“Stay, you imperfect speakers. Tell me more.
By Sinel’s death I know I am Thane of Glamis.
But how of Cawdor? The The Thane of Cawdor lives…”
“Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest, know
We will establish our estate upon
Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
The Prince of Cumberland."
“Fair is foul, and foul is fair,
Hover through the fog and filthy air."
“Come you spirits
That tend of mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty.”
“The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step
On which I must fall down or else o’erleap,
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires.”