Free site book and epub digitized and proofread by Project Gutenberg. The Tragedy of. Macbeth. William Shakespeare. This web edition published by [email protected] Last updated Wednesday, December 17, at Free PDF, epub, site ebook. Macbeth is Shakespeare's shortest tragedy, and tells the story of a brave Scottish general Macbeth By William Shakespeare.
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The worthy Thane of Ross. LENNOX. What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look. That seems to speak things strange. [Enter Ross.] ROSS. Become a member of bestthing.info and you can download five free ebooks Macbeth is among the best-known of William Shakespeare's plays, and is his. The Tragedy of Macbeth. Shakespeare homepage | Macbeth | Entire play . Enter MACBETH and BANQUO. MACBETH. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Macduff's army attacks Macbeth's forces. Macduff meets Macbeth in single combat and kills him. Malcolm, Duncan's son, is then proclaimed king of Scotland. His surviving works consist of 37 plays, sonnets, two long narrative poems, and several other poems. His plays have been translated into every major living language. Shakespeare was born and raised in Stratford-upon-Avon. At the age of 18 he married Anne Hathaway, who bore him three children: Susanna, twins Hamnet and Judith.
Between and he began a successful career in London as an actor, writer, and part owner of the playing company the Lord Chamberlain's Men, later known as the King's Men. He appears to have retired to Stratford around , where he died three years later. Shakespeare produced most of his known work between and His early plays were mainly comedies and histories, genres he raised to the peak of sophistication and artistry by the end of the sixteenth century.
Next he wrote mainly tragedies until about He was a respected poet and playwright in his own day, but his reputation did not rise to its present heights until the nineteenth century. The Romantics, in particular, acclaimed Shakespeare's genius, and the Victorians hero-worshipped Shakespeare.
In the twentieth century, his work was repeatedly adopted and rediscovered by new movements in scholarship and performance. His plays remain highly popular today and are consistently performed and reinterpreted in diverse cultural and political contexts throughout the world.
Sergeant As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come Discomfort swells.
Mark, king of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had with valour arm'd Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men Began a fresh assault.
Sergeant Yes; As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, Or memorise another Golgotha, I cannot tell. But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
Go get him surgeons. Exit Sergeant, attended. Enter the three Witches First Witch Where hast thou been, sister? Second Witch Killing swine.
Third Witch Sister, where thou? First Witch A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd: Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger: Second Witch I'll give thee a wind.
First Witch Thou'rt kind.
Third Witch And I another. First Witch I myself have all the other, And the very ports they blow, All the quarters that they know I' the shipman's card. I will drain him dry as hay: Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his pent-house lid; He shall live a man forbid: Weary se'nnights nine times nine Shall he dwindle, peak and pine: Though his bark cannot be lost, Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
Look what I have. Second Witch Show me, show me. First Witch Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wreck'd as homeward he did come. Drum within. Are not Those in commission yet return'd? But I have spoke With one that saw him die: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust.
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!
Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.
Enter a Messenger. Hautboys and torches. Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, The air is delicate. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage.
But in these cases We still have judgment here; that we but teach Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return To plague the inventor: He's here in double trust; First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, Who should against his murderer shut the door, Not bear the knife myself.
Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off; And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent, but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other.
Court of Macbeth's castle. There's husbandry in heaven; Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, And yet I would not sleep: It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good-night.
He is about it: The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd their possets, That death and nature do contend about them, Whether they live or die.
The attempt and not the deed Confounds us. I laid their daggers ready; He could not miss 'em.
William Shakespeare's Macbeth
Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done't. Knocking within. Enter a Porter Porter Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key.
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Within the volume of which time I have seen Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night Hath trifled former knowings. Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, That darkness does the face of earth entomb, When living light should kiss it? Old Man 'Tis unnatural, Even like the deed that's done.
On Tuesday last, A falcon, towering in her pride of place, Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. ROSS And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain-- Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make War with mankind. Old Man 'Tis said they eat each other. Here comes the good Macduff. The palace. If there come truth from them-- As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine-- Why, by the verities on thee made good, May they not be my oracles as well, And set me up in hope?
But hush! Sennet sounded. Servant Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.
Servant Madam, I will. Enter three Murderers First Murderer But who did bid thee join with us? Third Murderer Macbeth. Second Murderer He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers Our offices and what we have to do To the direction just.
First Murderer Then stand with us. The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: Now spurs the lated traveller apace To gain the timely inn; and near approaches The subject of our watch. Third Murderer Hark!
I hear horses. Second Murderer Then 'tis he: First Murderer His horses go about.
Third Murderer Almost a mile: Second Murderer A light, a light! A banquet prepared. Lords Thanks to your majesty. Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time We will require her welcome.
First Murderer appears at the door. How did you dare To trade and traffic with Macbeth In riddles and affairs of death; And I, the mistress of your charms, The close contriver of all harms, Was never call'd to bear my part, Or show the glory of our art? And, which is worse, all you have done Hath been but for a wayward son, Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do, Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now: Your vessels and your spells provide, Your charms and every thing beside. I am for the air; this night I'll spend Unto a dismal and a fatal end: Great business must be wrought ere noon: Upon the corner of the moon There hangs a vaporous drop profound; I'll catch it ere it come to ground: And that distill'd by magic sleights Shall raise such artificial sprites As by the strength of their illusion Shall draw him on to his confusion: He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: And you all know, security Is mortals' chiefest enemy.
Music and a song within: The gracious Duncan Was pitied of Macbeth: And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late; Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd, For Fleance fled: Who cannot want the thought how monstrous It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain To kill their gracious father?
How it did grieve Macbeth! Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive To hear the men deny't. So that, I say, He has borne all things well: But, peace!
Lord The son of Duncan, From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth Lives in the English court, and is received Of the most pious Edward with such grace That the malevolence of fortune nothing Takes from his high respect: That, by the help of these--with Him above To ratify the work--we may again Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, Do faithful homage and receive free honours: All which we pine for now: Lord He did: Some holy angel Fly to the court of England and unfold His message ere he come, that a swift blessing May soon return to this our suffering country Under a hand accursed!
Lord I'll send my prayers with him.Go get him surgeons. Macbeth himself, a brave warrior, is fatally impelled by supernatural forces, by his proud wife, and by his own burgeoning ambition. The Problems of Philosophy Reads: Who cannot want the thought how monstrous It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain To kill their gracious father?
First Witch A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:
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