Macbeth by William Shakespeare (top ten books of all time .TXT) 📕
Description
King Duncan’s closest generals, Macbeth and Banquo, have just defeated two invading armies and the Irish rebel Macdonwald. Out across the misty moor, they encounter three witches who reveal to Macbeth a powerful prophecy: “All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis! All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter!” They not only claim that Macbeth will eventually become King of Scotland, but that Banquo will father a line of Scottish kings—though ominously, Banquo will never be king himself.
This shocking tragedy—a violent caution to those seeking power for its own sake—is, to this day, one of Shakespeare’s most popular and influential masterpieces.
This Standard Ebooks production is based on William George Clark and William Aldis Wright’s 1887 Victoria edition, which is taken from the Globe edition.
Read free book «Macbeth by William Shakespeare (top ten books of all time .TXT) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: William Shakespeare
Read book online «Macbeth by William Shakespeare (top ten books of all time .TXT) 📕». Author - William Shakespeare
Rebellion’s head, rise never till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart
Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art
Can tell so much: shall Banquo’s issue ever
Reign in this kingdom? All Seek to know no more. Macbeth
I will be satisfied: deny me this,
And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this? Hautboys.
Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart!
Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down!
Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair,
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first.
A third is like the former. Filthy hags!
Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes!
What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
Another yet! A seventh! I’ll see no more:
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
Which shows me many more; and some I see
That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry:
Horrible sight! Now, I see, ’tis true;
For the blood-bolter’d Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his. Apparitions vanish. What, is this so?
Ay, sir, all this is so: but why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
And show the best of our delights:
I’ll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antic round;
That this great king may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay. Music. The Witches dance, and then vanish, with Hecate.
Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour
Stand aye accursed in the calendar!
Come in, without there!
Infected be the air whereon they ride;
And damn’d all those that trust them! I did hear
The galloping of horse: who was’t came by?
’Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
Macduff is fled to England.
Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits:
The flighty purpose never is o’ertook
Unless the deed go with it: from this moment
The very firstlings of my heart shall be
The firstlings of my hand. And even now,
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:
The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o’ the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
This deed I’ll do before this purpose cool.
But no more sights!—Where are these gentlemen?
Come, bring me where they are. Exeunt.
Fife. Macduff’s castle.
Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Ross. Lady Macduff What had he done, to make him fly the land? Ross You must have patience, madam. Lady MacduffHe had none:
His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.
You know not
Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
His mansion and his titles in a place
From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear and nothing is the love;
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.
My dearest coz,
I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband,
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
The fits o’ the season. I dare not speak much further;
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors
And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
But float upon a wild and violent sea
Each way and move. I take my leave of you:
Shall not be long but I’ll be here again:
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
To what they were before. My pretty cousin,
Blessing upon you!
I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once. Exit.
Sirrah, your father’s dead:
And what will you do now? How will you live?
Poor bird! thou’ldst never fear the net nor lime,
The pitfall nor the gin.
Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
My father is not dead, for all your saying.
Thou speak’st with all thy wit; and yet, i’ faith,
With wit enough for thee.
Now, God help thee, poor monkey!
But how wilt thou do for a father?
Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
Though in your state of
Comments (0)