Original Text |
Modern Text |
Enter LADY MACBETH, alone, with a
letter
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LADY MACBETH enters, reading a
letter.
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LADY MACBETH
(reading) “They met me
in the day of success, and I have learned by the perfectest report
they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in
desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into
which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it came
missives from the king, who all-hailed me 'Thane of
Cawdor,' by which title, before, these weird sisters
saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time with
'Hail, king that shalt be!' This have I thought
good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou
might’st not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being ignorant
of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart, and
farewell.”
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LADY MACBETH “The witches met me on the day of my victory in
battle, and I have since learned that they have supernatural
knowledge. When I tried desperately to question them further, they
vanished into thin air. While I stood spellbound, messengers from
the king arrived and greeted me as the thane of Cawdor, which is
precisely how the weird sisters had saluted me before calling me
’the future king!' I thought I should tell you
this news, my dearest partner in greatness, so that you could
rejoice along with me about the greatness that is promised to us.
Keep it secret, and farewell.”
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Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness
5To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great,
Art not without ambition, but without
The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldst wrongly win. Thou'ld’st have,
great Glamis,
10That which cries, “Thus thou must do,” if
thou have it,
And that which rather thou dost fear to do,
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear
And chastise with the valor of my tongue
15All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crowned withal.
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(she looks up from the letter) You
are thane of Glamis and Cawdor, and you’re going to be
king, just like you were promised. But I worry about whether or not
you have what it takes to seize the crown. You are too full of the
milk of human kindness to strike aggressively at your first
opportunity. You want to be powerful, and you don’t lack
ambition, but you don’t have the mean streak that these
things call for. The things you want to do, you want to do like a
good man. You don’t want to cheat, yet you want what
doesn’t belong to you. There’s something you want,
but you’re afraid to do what you need to do to get it. You
want it to be done for you. Hurry home so I can persuade you and
talk you out of whatever’s keeping you from going after the
crown. After all, fate and witchcraft both seem to want you to be
king.
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Enter SERVANT
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A SERVANT
enters.
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