Macbeth

Macbeth

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle.
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
[The countryside near Dunsinane Hill. Military drums and flags. Enter several Scottish lords leading armed troops]

Menteith

The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them, for their dear causes
Would, to the bleeding and the grim alarm,
Excite the mortified man.

Angus

Caithness

Lennox

Menteith

Caithness

Angus

Menteith

Caithness

Lennox

[Exit, marching]
[Before Macbeth's castle, flutes and torches. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus, and Attendants.]

Duncan

This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.

Banquo

[Enter Lady Macbeth]

Duncan

Lady Macbeth

Duncan

Lady Macbeth

Duncan

[Duncan gives Lady Macbeth a kiss. All exit]

Macbeth

                                    Seyton! — I am sick at heart
When I behold — Seyton, I say! — This push
Will cheer me ever, or dis-seat me now.
I have lived long enough. My way of life
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have — but, in their stead:
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
... Seyton!

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