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    Act 1. Scene III - Page 2

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    not,
    Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear
    Your favours nor your hate.

    First Witch
    Hail!

    Second Witch
    Hail!

    Third Witch
    Hail!

    First Witch
    Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.

    Second Witch
    Not so happy, yet much happier.

    Third Witch
    Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none:
    So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

    First Witch
    Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!

    MACBETH
    Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:
    By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis;
    But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives,
    A prosperous gentleman; and to be king
    Stands not within the prospect of belief,
    No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence
    You owe this strange intelligence? or why
    Upon this blasted heath you stop our way
    With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you.

    Witches vanish

    BANQUO
    The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
    And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd?

    MACBETH
    Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted
    As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd!

    BANQUO
    Were such things here as we do speak about?
    Or have we eaten on the insane root
    That takes the reason prisoner?

    MACBETH
    Your children shall be kings.

    BANQUO
    You shall be king.

    MACBETH
    And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?

    BANQUO
    To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here?

    Enter ROSS and ANGUS

    ROSS
    The king hath happily received, Macbeth,
    The news of thy success; and when he reads
    Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight,
    His wonders and his praises do contend
    Which should be thine or his: silenced with that,
    In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day,
    He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
    Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,
    Strange images of death. As thick as hail
    Came post with post; and every one did bear
    Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
    And pour'd them down before him.

    ANGUS
    We are sent
    To give thee from our royal master thanks;
    Only to herald thee into his sight,
    Not pay thee.

    ROSS
    And, for an earnest of a greater honour,

    He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
    In which addition, hail, most worthy thane!
    For it is thine.

    BANQUO
    What, can the devil speak true?

    MACBETH
    The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me
    In borrow'd robes?

    ANGUS
    Who was the thane lives yet;
    But under heavy judgment bears that life
    Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined
    With those of Norway, or did line the rebel
    With hidden help and vantage, or that with both
    He
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