prompt:
Chapter: ACT II. SCENE I.

Inverness. Court within the Castle.

[Enter Banquo, preceeded by Fleance with a torch.]

BANQUO.
How goes the night, boy?

FLEANCE.
The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.

BANQUO.
And she goes down at twelve.

FLEANCE.
I take't, 'tis later, sir.

BANQUO.
Hold, take my sword.--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:--merciful powers,
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature
Gives way to in repose!--Give me my sword.
Who's there?

[Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a torch.]

MACBETH.
A friend.

BANQUO.
What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed:
He hath been in unusual pleasure and
Sent forth great largess to your officers:
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up
In measureless content.

MACBETH.
Being unprepar'd,
Our will became the servant to defect;
Which else should free have wrought.

BANQUO.
All's well.
I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
To you they have show'd some truth.

MACBETH.
I think not of them:
Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
We would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.

BANQUO.
At your kind'st leisure.

MACBETH.
If you shall cleave to my consent,--when 'tis,
It shall make honor for you.

BANQUO.
So I lose none
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
My bosom franchis'd, and allegiance clear,
I shall be counsell'd.

MACBETH.
Good repose the while!

BANQUO.
Thanks, sir: the like to you!

[Exeunt Banquo and Fleance.]

MACBETH.
Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.

[Exit Servant.]

Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee:--
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before.--There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes.--Now o'er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost.--Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
And take the present horror from the time,
Which now suits with it.--Whiles I threat, he lives;
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.

[A bell rings.]

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell.

[Exit.]

[Enter Lady Macbeth.]

LADY MACBETH.
That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold:
What hath quench'd them hath given me fire.--Hark!--Peace!
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.

MACBETH.
[Within.] Who's there?--what, ho!

LADY MACBETH.
Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd,
And 'tis not done: the attempt, and not the deed,
Confounds us.--Hark!--I laid their daggers ready;
He could not miss 'em.--Had he not resembled
My father as he slept, I had done't.--My husband!

[Re-enter Macbeth.]

MACBETH.
I have done the deed.--Didst thou not hear a noise?

LADY MACBETH.
I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak?

MACBETH.
When?

LADY MACBETH.
Now.

MACBETH.
As I descended?

LADY MACBETH.
Ay.

MACBETH.
Hark!--
Who lies i' the second chamber?

LADY MACBETH.
Donalbain.

MACBETH.
This is a sorry sight.

[Looking on his hands.]

LADY MACBETH.
A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.

MACBETH.
There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried, "Murder!"
That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them:
But they did say their prayers, and address'd them
Again to sleep.

LADY MACBETH.
There are two lodg'd together.

MACBETH.
One cried, "God bless us!" and, "Amen," the other;
As they had seen me with these hangman's hands.
Listening their fear, I could not say "Amen,"
When they did say, "God bless us."

LADY MACBETH.
Consider it not so deeply.

MACBETH.
But wherefore could not I pronounce "Amen"?
I had most need of blessing, and "Amen"
Stuck in my throat.

LADY MACBETH.
These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

MACBETH.
I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep,"--the innocent sleep;
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.

LADY MACBETH.
What do you mean?

MACBETH.
Still it cried, "Sleep no more!" to all the house:
"Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more,--Macbeth shall sleep no more!"

LADY MACBETH.
Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane,
You do unbend your noble strength to think
So brainsickly of things.--Go get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand.--
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there: go carry them; and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood.

MACBETH.
I'll go no more:
I am afraid to think what I have done;
Look on't again I dare not.

LADY MACBETH.
Infirm of purpose!
Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt.

[Exit. Knocking within.]

MACBETH.
Whence is that knocking?
How is't with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here? Ha, they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.

[Re-enter Lady Macbeth.]

LADY MACBETH.
My hands are of your color, but I shame
To wear a heart so white. [Knocking within.] I hear knocking
At the south entry:--retire we to our chamber.
A little water clears us of this deed:
How easy is it then! Your constancy
Hath left you unattended.--[Knocking within.] Hark, more
knocking:
Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us
And show us to be watchers:--be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts.

MACBETH.
To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. [Knocking within.]
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!

[Exeunt.]

[Enter a Porter. Knocking within.]

PORTER.
Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell-gate, he
should have old turning the key. [Knocking.] Knock, knock, knock.
Who's there, i' the name of Belzebub? Here's a farmer that hanged
himself on the expectation of plenty: come in time; have napkins
enow about you; here you'll sweat for't.--[Knocking.] Knock,
knock! Who's there, in the other devil's name? Faith, here's an
equivocator, that could swear in both the scales against either
scale, who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not
equivocate to heaven: O, come in, equivocator. [Knocking.] Knock,
knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an English tailor come
hither, for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here
you may roast your goose.-- [Knocking.] Knock, knock: never at
quiet! What are you?--But this place is too cold for hell.
I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in
some of all professions, that go the primrose way to the
everlasting bonfire. [Knocking.] Anon, anon! I pray you, remember
the porter.

[Opens the gate.]

[Enter Macduff and Lennox.]

MACDUFF.
Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,
That you do lie so late?

PORTER.
Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock: and
drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things.

MACDUFF.
What three things does drink especially provoke?

PORTER.
Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir,
it provokes and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it
takes away the performance: therefore much drink may be said to
be an equivocator with lechery: it makes him, and it mars him; it
sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and
disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to: in
conclusion, equivocates him in a sleep, and giving him the lie,
leaves him.

MACDUFF.
I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.

PORTER.
That it did, sir, i' the very throat o' me; but I requited
him for his lie; and, I think, being too strong for him,
though he took up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast
him.

MACDUFF.
Is thy master stirring?--
Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.

[Enter Macbeth.]

LENNOX.
Good morrow, noble sir!

MACBETH.
Good morrow, both!

MACDUFF.
Is the king stirring, worthy thane?

MACBETH.
Not yet.

MACDUFF.
He did command me to call timely on him:
I have almost slipp'd the hour.

MACBETH.
I'll bring you to him.

MACDUFF.
I know this is a joyful trouble to you;
But yet 'tis one.

MACBETH.
The labour we delight in physics pain.
This is the door.

MACDUFF.
I'll make so bold to call.
For 'tis my limited service.

[Exit Macduff.]

LENNOX.
Goes the king hence to-day?

MACBETH.
He does: he did appoint so.

LENNOX.
The night has been unruly: where we lay,
Our chimneys were blown down: and, as they say,
Lamentings heard i' the air, strange screams of death;
And prophesying, with accents terrible,
Of dire combustion and confus'd events,
New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird
Clamour'd the live-long night; some say the earth
Was feverous, and did shake.

MACBETH.
'Twas a rough night.

LENNOX.
My young remembrance cannot parallel
A fellow to it.

[Re-enter Macduff.]

MACDUFF.
O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart
Cannot conceive nor name thee!

MACBETH, LENNOX.
What's the matter?

MACDUFF.
Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o' the building.

MACBETH.
What is't you say? the life?

LENNOX.
Mean you his majesty?

MACDUFF.
Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon:--do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak yourselves.

[Exeunt Macbeth and Lennox.]

Awake, awake!--
Ring the alarum bell:--murder and treason!
Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself! up, up, and see
The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites
To countenance this horror!

[Alarum-bell rings.]

[Re-enter Lady Macbeth.]

LADY MACBETH.
What's the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!

MACDUFF.
O gentle lady,
'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
The repetition, in a woman's ear,
Would murder as it fell.

[Re-enter Banquo.]

O Banquo, Banquo!
Our royal master's murder'd!

LADY MACBETH.
Woe, alas!
What, in our house?

BANQUO.
Too cruel any where.--
Dear Duff, I pr'ythee, contradict thyself,
And say it is not so.

[Re-enter Macbeth and Lennox, with Ross.]

MACBETH.
Had I but died an hour before this chance,
I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this instant
There's nothing serious in mortality:
All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.

[Enter Malcolm and Donalbain.]

DONALBAIN.
What is amiss?

MACBETH.
You are, and do not know't:
The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood
Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd.

MACDUFF.
Your royal father's murder'd.

MALCOLM.
O, by whom?

LENNOX.
Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done't:
Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood;
So were their daggers, which, unwip'd, we found
Upon their pillows:
They star'd, and were distracted; no man's life
Was to be trusted with them.

MACBETH.
O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
That I did kill them.

MACDUFF.
Wherefore did you so?

MACBETH.
Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate, and furious,
Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man:
The expedition of my violent love
Outrun the pauser reason. Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood;
And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature
For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers,
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain,
That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage to make's love known?

LADY MACBETH.
Help me hence, ho!

MACDUFF.
Look to the lady.

MALCOLM.
Why do we hold our tongues,
That most may claim this argument for ours?

DONALBAIN.
What should be spoken here, where our fate,
Hid in an auger hole, may rush, and seize us?
Let's away;
Our tears are not yet brew'd.

MALCOLM.
Nor our strong sorrow
Upon the foot of motion.

BANQUO.
Look to the lady:--

[Lady Macbeth is carried out.]

And when we have our naked frailties hid,
That suffer in exposure, let us meet,
And question this most bloody piece of work
To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:
In the great hand of God I stand; and thence,
Against the undivulg'd pretense I fight
Of treasonous malice.

MACDUFF.
And so do I.

ALL.
So all.

MACBETH.
Let's briefly put on manly readiness,
And meet i' the hall together.

ALL.
Well contented.

[Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain.]

MALCOLM.
What will you do? Let's not consort with them:
To show an unfelt sorrow is an office
Which the false man does easy. I'll to England.

DONALBAIN.
To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
Shall keep us both the safer: where we are,
There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood,
The nearer bloody.

MALCOLM.
This murderous shaft that's shot
Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is to avoid the aim. Therefore to horse;
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away: there's warrant in that theft
Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left.

[Exeunt.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: This scene opens at Inverness around midnight with Banquo and his son Fleance having a last conversation before retiring to bed. Banquo comments on the darkness, saying that there are no stars out on this dreary night. He then tells his son that he is also dreary, for he has been afraid to sleep. He does not want to be haunted with bad dreams about the three wicked witches. Macbeth then enters the scene, and Banquo turns to him and issues praises for his hospitality. He also states that Lady Macbeth is a most kind hostess. Macbeth also learns that the king has gone happily to his bed for the night. Banquo then tells Macbeth about dreaming of the three weird sisters. Macbeth replies, "I think not of them," in direct contradiction to his actual thoughts. Next Macbeth asks for Banquo's loyalty should he become king. Banquo ironically answers that if it is honorable and free from evil, he will be supportive. Banquo and Fleance depart for bed, and Macbeth is left by himself with his fears. He sees a vision of a dagger in front of him. He reaches out for it, but nothing is there --what seems real is only an appearance. He blinks his eyes to erase the image, but the dagger is still there and is now dripping blood. Still unable to grab it, Macbeth acknowledges that it is only a vision and that the "bloody business at hand" has clouded his reason. Then his thoughts in the soliloquy turn to the current bewitching hour of midnight when "wicked dreams abuse" and "witchcraft celebrates" and "the wolf howls. " Macbeth, still resolved to the murder, hears a bell calling him to action. He turns to leave and says, "I go, and it is done. " The murder is at hand; there is no more time for procrastination.


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE II.

The same. Without the Castle.

[Enter Ross and an old Man.]

OLD MAN.
Threescore and ten I can remember well:
Within the volume of which time I have seen
Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.

ROSS.
Ah, good father,
Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock 'tis day,
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp;
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.

ROSS.
They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,
That look'd upon't.
Here comes the good Macduff.

[Enter Macduff.]

How goes the world, sir, now?

MACDUFF.
Why, see you not?

ROSS.
Is't known who did this more than bloody deed?

MACDUFF.
Those that Macbeth hath slain.

ROSS.
Alas, the day!
What good could they pretend?

MACDUFF.
They were suborn'd:
Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.

ROSS.
'Gainst nature still:
Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
Thine own life's means!--Then 'tis most like,
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

MACDUFF.
He is already nam'd; and gone to Scone
To be invested.

ROSS.
Where is Duncan's body?

MACDUFF.
Carried to Colme-kill,
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.

ROSS.
Will you to Scone?

MACDUFF.
No, cousin, I'll to Fife.

ROSS.
Well, I will thither.

MACDUFF.
Well, may you see things well done there,--adieu!--
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!

ROSS.
Farewell, father.

OLD MAN.
God's benison go with you; and with those
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!

[Exeunt.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Lady Macbeth enters and says aloud that the wine which "made them drunk hath made me bold. " She has arranged everything for her husband. The servants have passed out from drinking too much, Duncan is sound asleep and unguarded, and she has left the daggers out for Macbeth to use. She says that if the king had not resembled her own father in his sleep, she probably would have killed him herself. Instead, Macbeth has done the dastardly deed. He comes in covered in blood and carrying the two murder weapons. He is visibly and understandably shaken. He thinks he has heard a voice crying to him, "Sleep no more, Macbeth does murder sleep", a foreshadowing of his future sleeplessness. Lady Macbeth interrupts his demented thoughts and warns him to wash up and take the daggers back to the crime scene. The troubled Macbeth answers, "I'll go no more; I am afraid to think what I have done; Look on it again I dare not." Lady Macbeth calls him a coward and takes the daggers back herself. As she departs from Macbeth, there is a loud and repeated knocking. This sound pushes Macbeth to a panic level. He looks at his hands and asks, "Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?' When Lady Macbeth returns, she chides her husband more, saying she would be ashamed to have a heart as white  as his. She also leads him out towards their bedroom to wash up and change into nightgowns. As they leave, she warns her husband not to be lost "so poorly in your thoughts." His answer is "To know my deed, twere best not know myself." His guilt and fear have already commenced.


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE III.

The same. A Park or Lawn, with a gate leading to the Palace.

[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.

BANQUO.
[Within.] Give us a light there, ho!

SECOND MURDERER.
Then 'tis he; the rest
That are within the note of expectation
Already are i' the court.

FIRST MURDERER.
His horses go about.

THIRD MURDERER.
Almost a mile; but he does usually,
So all men do, from hence to the palace gate
Make it their walk.

SECOND MURDERER.
A light, a light!

THIRD MURDERER.
'Tis he.

FIRST MURDERER.
Stand to't.

[Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a torch.]

BANQUO.
It will be rain to-night.

FIRST MURDERER.
Let it come down.

[Assaults Banquo.]

BANQUO.
O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!
Thou mayst revenge.--O slave!

[Dies. Fleance escapes.]

THIRD MURDERER.
Who did strike out the light?

FIRST MURDERER.
Was't not the way?

THIRD MURDERER.
There's but one down: the son is fled.

SECOND MURDERER.
We have lost best half of our affair.

FIRST MURDERER.
Well, let's away, and say how much is done.

[Exeunt.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The knocking that began in Scene 2 intensifies at the beginning of this scene. Finally one of the drunken porters awakens and comes to the door of the castle. He imagines he is opening hell's gate, and a number of sinners are outside waiting to come in, including a greedy farmer who hanged himself, an equivocator who "committed treason enough for God's sake," and an English tailor who was a thief. When the porter actually opens the door, he finds Macduff and Lennox, who have come to wake the king. As the porter humorously talks to the two of them about the effects of alcohol, Macbeth enters the scene and offers to lead them to Duncan's room. As they walk, Macduff ironically says to Macbeth of the king's visit that it must have been "joyful trouble." He then enters the king's chambers, leaving Lennox and Macbeth outside in conversation about last night's foul weather . Lennox explained that in his neighborhood there were lamentings, screeching owls , earthquakes, and strange screams of death. The citizens said that such things were prophesies of "dire combustion and confused events" . Macbeth succinctly responds in perfect understatement, "Twas a rough night." Their conversation is interrupted by the wild-eyed Macduff screaming, "Horror, horror, horror." He then reports Duncan's murder by saying, "Confusion hath made his masterpiece!...... Murder has broke ope the Lord's anointed temple." Macbeth and Lennox head off towards the king's room, and Macduff gives orders to sound the alarm to announce the murder and treason. The scene is chaos, but Lady Macbeth enters calmly and asks what is going on. Ironically, Macduff calls her, "O, gentle lady' and explains that he cannot tell her, for the news would "murder" her ears and gentleness. Banquo next enters and is told of the murder. Lady Macbeth pretends to overhear and exclaims, "What, in our house?" Macbeth and Lennox return, and Macbeth, in total hypocrisy and trying to eloquently express his grief, speaks some of the greatest truth in the play. " Had I but died an hour before this chance , I had lived a blessed time; for from this instant there's nothing serious in mortality ...grace is dead." As he concludes this speech, the king's sons, Malcolm and Donaldbain, enter and learn of their father's death, seemingly at the hands of his servants who were smeared with blood. Then Macbeth confesses to having killed both servants out of feigned fury over their murderous deed . In order to diffuse the tension of the moment and to detract attention from her husband, Lady Macbeth, the great pretender, acts as if she has fainted. Banquo, the personification of goodness in the scene, takes charge. He tells the servants to tend to Lady Macbeth, and to the others he suggests that they all get dressed and then meet to discuss the situation and the next steps. Banquo closes by saying, "In the great hand of God I stand...to fight treasonous malice." The others all agree to meet, except for Malcolm and Donaldbain, who are going their separate ways to England and Ireland, in order to protect themselves from the traitor's hand.


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE IV.

The same. A Room of state in the Palace. A banquet prepared.

[Enter Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Ross, Lennox, Lords, and
Attendants.]

MACBETH.
You know your own degrees: sit down. At first
And last the hearty welcome.

LORDS.
Thanks to your majesty.

MACBETH.
Ourself will mingle with society,
And play the humble host.
Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time,
We will require her welcome.

LADY MACBETH.
Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;
For my heart speaks they are welcome.

MACBETH.
See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks.--
Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst:

[Enter first Murderer to the door.]

Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure
The table round.--There's blood upon thy face.

MURDERER.
'Tis Banquo's then.

MACBETH.
'Tis better thee without than he within.
Is he despatch'd?

MURDERER.
My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.

MACBETH.
Thou art the best o' the cut-throats; yet he's good
That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,
Thou art the nonpareil.

MURDERER.
Most royal sir,
Fleance is 'scap'd.

MACBETH.
Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect;
Whole as the marble, founded as the rock;
As broad and general as the casing air:
But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe?

MURDERER.
Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
The least a death to nature.

MACBETH.
Thanks for that:
There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled
Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
No teeth for the present.--Get thee gone; to-morrow
We'll hear, ourselves, again.

[Exit Murderer.]

LADY MACBETH.
My royal lord,
You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold
That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making,
'Tis given with welcome; to feed were best at home;
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.

MACBETH.
Sweet remembrancer!--
Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!

LENNOX.
May't please your highness sit.

[The Ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth's place.]

MACBETH.
Here had we now our country's honor roof'd,
Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present;
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
Than pity for mischance!

ROSS.
His absence, sir,
Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness
To grace us with your royal company?

MACBETH.
The table's full.

LENNOX.
Here is a place reserv'd, sir.

MACBETH.
Where?

LENNOX.
Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness?

MACBETH.
Which of you have done this?

LORDS.
What, my good lord?

MACBETH.
Thou canst not say I did it: never shake
Thy gory locks at me.

ROSS.
Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well.

LADY MACBETH.
Sit, worthy friends:--my lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;
The fit is momentary; upon a thought
He will again be well: if much you note him,
You shall offend him, and extend his passion:
Feed, and regard him not.--Are you a man?

MACBETH.
Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
Which might appal the devil.

LADY MACBETH.
O proper stuff!
This is the very painting of your fear:
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws, and starts,--
Impostors to true fear,--would well become
A woman's story at a winter's fire,
Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make such faces? When all's done,
You look but on a stool.

MACBETH.
Pr'ythee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?--
Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.--
If charnel houses and our graves must send
Those that we bury back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.

[Ghost disappears.]

LADY MACBETH.
What, quite unmann'd in folly?

MACBETH.
If I stand here, I saw him.

LADY MACBETH.
Fie, for shame!

MACBETH.
Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time,
Ere humane statute purg'd the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd
Too terrible for the ear: the time has been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end; but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: this is more strange
Than such a murder is.

LADY MACBETH.
My worthy lord,
Your noble friends do lack you.

MACBETH.
I do forget:--
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
Then I'll sit down.--Give me some wine, fill full.--
I drink to the general joy o' the whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss:
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.

LORDS.
Our duties, and the pledge.

[Ghost rises again.]

MACBETH.
Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with!

LADY MACBETH.
Think of this, good peers,
But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other,
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

MACBETH.
What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger;
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: or be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhabit then, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence!

[Ghost disappears.]

Why, so;--being gone,
I am a man again.--Pray you, sit still.

LADY MACBETH.
You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting,
With most admir'd disorder.

MACBETH.
Can such things be,
And overcome us like a summer's cloud,
Without our special wonder? You make me strange
Even to the disposition that I owe,
When now I think you can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
When mine are blanch'd with fear.

ROSS.
What sights, my lord?

LADY MACBETH.
I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
Question enrages him: at once, good-night:--
Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once.

LENNOX.
Good-night; and better health
Attend his majesty!

LADY MACBETH.
A kind good-night to all!

[Exeunt all Lords and Atendants.]

MACBETH.
It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood:
Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak;
Augurs, and understood relations, have
By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth
The secret'st man of blood.--What is the night?

LADY MACBETH.
Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

MACBETH.
How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person
At our great bidding?

LADY MACBETH.
Did you send to him, sir?

MACBETH.
I hear it by the way; but I will send:
There's not a one of them but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
(And betimes I will) to the weird sisters:
More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good,
All causes shall give way: I am in blood
Step't in so far that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:
Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd.

LADY MACBETH.
You lack the season of all natures, sleep.

MACBETH.
Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear that wants hard use:--
We are yet but young in deed.

[Exeunt.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: This scene opens the next morning outside Macbeths's castle with Ross and an old man conversing about the tragedy that occurred in the last scene. The old man states that in his seventy years he has never known such dreadful times. Ross agrees and adds that heaven is showing its displeasure with mankind, for even though it is morning, "darkness does the face of earth entomb, when living light should kiss it." The old man agrees that the darkness is unnatural, just like the murder. He then adds that many other strange signs have been happening. Just last Tuesday a proud falcon  was killed by a weaker mousing owl . Ross adds that also Duncan's tame, royal horses "turned wild in nature...as they would make war with mankind" . As this conversation goes on, Macduff enters and says that, like the weather, he is in a dark and dismal mood . When asked if anything else is known about the murder, Macduff says it is believed that the servants who killed the king were hired to do so, and Malcolm and Donaldbain are suspected since they have fled the country. Ross comments that for a son to kill his father is the most unnatural event. Then Macduff reveals that Macbeth has been chosen king and is already at Scone for his coronation, and Duncan's body has been taken to Colmekill, "the sacred storehouse of this predecessors" to be buried. Macduff is going home to Fife, but Ross plans to go to Scone for the coronation. Macduff departs saying "our old robes sit easier than our new!" He is obviously wary about Macbeth's being king. The old man closes the scene with a blessing, "God's benison go with you, and with those that would make good of bad and friends of foes!"


prompt:
Chapter: ACT III. SCENE I.

Forres. A Room in the Palace.

[Enter Banquo.]

BANQUO.
Thou hast it now,--king, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
As the weird women promis'd; and, I fear,
Thou play'dst most foully for't; yet it was said
It should not stand in thy posterity;
But that myself should be the root and father
Of many kings. 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; no more.

[Sennet sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Macbeth
as Queen; Lennox, Ross, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants.]

MACBETH.
Here's our chief guest.

LADY MACBETH.
If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap in our great feast,
And all-thing unbecoming.

MACBETH.
To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir,
And I'll request your presence.

BANQUO.
Let your highness
Command upon me; to the which my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tie
For ever knit.

MACBETH.
Ride you this afternoon?

BANQUO.
Ay, my good lord.

MACBETH.
We should have else desir'd your good advice,--
Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,--
In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow.
Is't far you ride?

BANQUO.
As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better,
I must become a borrower of the night,
For a dark hour or twain.

MACBETH.
Fail not our feast.

BANQUO.
My lord, I will not.

MACBETH.
We hear our bloody cousins are bestow'd
In England and in Ireland; not confessing
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
With strange invention: but of that to-morrow;
When therewithal we shall have cause of state
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu,
Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?

BANQUO.
Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon's.

MACBETH.
I wish your horses swift and sure of foot;
And so I do commend you to their backs.
Farewell.--

[Exit  Banquo.]

Let every man be master of his time
Till seven at night; to make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
Till supper time alone: while then, God be with you!

[Exeunt Lady Macbeth, Lords, Ladies, &c.]

Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men
Our pleasure?

ATTENDANT.
They are, my lord, without the palace gate.

MACBETH.
Bring them before us.

[Exit Attendant.]

To be thus is nothing;
But to be safely thus:--our fears in Banquo.
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature
Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares;
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety. There is none but he
Whose being I do fear: and under him,
My genius is rebuk'd; as, it is said,
Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters
When first they put the name of king upon me,
And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like,
They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
Upon my head they plac'd a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If't be so,
For Banquo's issue have I fil'd my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
Put rancours in the vessel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man,
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come, fate, into the list,
And champion me to the utterance!--Who's there?--

[Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers.]

Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.

[Exit Attendant.]

Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

FIRST MURDERER.
It was, so please your highness.

MACBETH.
Well then, now
Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know
That it was he, in the times past, which held you
So under fortune; which you thought had been
Our innocent self: this I made good to you
In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you
How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, the instruments,
Who wrought with them, and all things else that might
To half a soul and to a notion craz'd
Say, "Thus did Banquo."

FIRST MURDERER.
You made it known to us.

MACBETH.
I did so; and went further, which is now
Our point of second meeting. Do you find
Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd,
To pray for this good man and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave,
And beggar'd yours forever?

FIRST MURDERER.
We are men, my liege.

MACBETH.
Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept
All by the name of dogs: the valu'd file
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The house-keeper, the hunter, every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him clos'd; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill
That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file,
Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say it;
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
Whose execution takes your enemy off;
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
Which in his death were perfect.

SECOND MURDERER.
I am one, my liege,
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incens'd that I am reckless what
I do to spite the world.

FIRST MURDERER.
And I another,
So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune,
That I would set my life on any chance,
To mend it or be rid on't.

MACBETH.
Both of you
Know Banquo was your enemy.

BOTH MURDERERS.
True, my lord.

MACBETH.
So is he mine; and in such bloody distance,
That every minute of his being thrusts
Against my near'st of life; and though I could
With barefac'd power sweep him from my sight,
And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not,
For certain friends that are both his and mine,
Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
Who I myself struck down: and thence it is
That I to your assistance do make love;
Masking the business from the common eye
For sundry weighty reasons.

SECOND MURDERER.
We shall, my lord,
Perform what you command us.

FIRST MURDERER.
Though our lives--

MACBETH.
Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most,
I will advise you where to plant yourselves;
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time,
The moment on't; for't must be done to-night
And something from the palace; always thought
That I require a clearness; and with him,--
To leave no rubs nor botches in the work,--
Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
Whose absence is no less material to me
Than is his father's, must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart:
I'll come to you anon.

BOTH MURDERERS.
We are resolv'd, my lord.

MACBETH.
I'll call upon you straight: abide within.

[Exeunt Murderers.]

It is concluded:--Banquo, thy soul's flight,
If it find heaven, must find it out to-night.

[Exit.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: This scene opens at the palace at Forres with Banquo alone but speaking aloud to an absent Macbeth. He begins by saying, "Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, as the weird women promised, and I fear thou play'dst most foully for't." Then Banquo wonders if the witches' prediction for him will also come true, that he will become "the root and father of many kings." His thoughts are then interrupted by a trumpet as King Macbeth and the Queen enter with Lennox, Ross and other lords, ladies, and attendants. The king invites Banquo to the banquet he is holding this evening. Banquo accepts the invitation and tells Macbeth he is forever at his service as a man of duty. Then Macbeth asks Banquo a series of questions to find out what Banquo plans to do for the rest of the day and with whom. He then reports that "our bloody cousins are bestowed in England and in Ireland, not confessing their parricide." Macbeth then sends Banquo off for his planned afternoon ride and the others off to enjoy themselves until the dinner scheduled for 7:00. Macbeth is left alone with his thoughts and, in a soliloquy, states that to be king is nothing unless the king is safe. And he does not feel safe with Banquo, for "He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour to act in safety...and under him, my genius is rebuked." He also expresses his jealousy that the witches have proclaimed that Banquo's sons will some day be kings instead of his future offspring. He then laments that "for them the gracious Duncan have I murdered and put rancours in the vessel of my peace and given mine eternal jewel ...to the common enemy of man ." By the end of the soliloquy, Macbeth reveals that he must kill both Banquo and his son Fleance. A servant then enters with two common murderers that Macbeth has sent for. Macbeth manufactures a story to convince the two of them that Banquo has treated them poorly, "whose heavy hand hath bowed you to the grave and beggared yours forever." Macbeth asks them how they could possibly forgive Banquo, to which they answer, "We are men, my liege." Macbeth then asks them to murder Banquo. One of the murderers answers by saying the he is "so incensed that I am reckless what I do to spite the world," and the other also agrees. Then Macbeth confesses that Banquo is truly his deadly enemy, but he cannot openly kill him because of mutual friends. He makes the two men promise to be cautious about conducting the murder, "masking the business from the common eye." The murderers promise to do as commanded. Macbeth tells them the murder must be committed on this very night away from the palace, and the son Fleance must also be killed. The murderers agree to the plan and exit to await further instructions from the king. Macbeth closes the scene by speaking to an absent Banquo saying, "It is concluded." Macbeth heaps murder upon murder, and torture upon torture to his soul.


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE II.

The same. Another Room in the Palace.

[Enter Lady Macbeth and a Servant.]

LADY MACBETH.
Is Banquo gone from court?

SERVANT.
Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.

LADY MACBETH.
Say to the king, I would attend his leisure
For a few words.

SERVANT.
Madam, I will.

[Exit.]

LADY MACBETH.
Naught's had, all's spent,
Where our desire is got without content:
'Tis safer to be that which we destroy,
Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy.

[Enter Macbeth.]

How now, my lord! why do you keep alone,
Of sorriest fancies your companions making;
Using those thoughts which should indeed have died
With them they think on? Things without all remedy
Should be without regard: what's done is done.

MACBETH.
We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it;
She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let the frame of things disjoint,
Both the worlds suffer,
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep
In the affliction of these terrible dreams
That shake us nightly: better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace,
Than on the torture of the mind to lie
In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him further.

LADY MACBETH.
Come on;
Gently my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;
Be bright and jovial 'mong your guests to-night.

MACBETH.
So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you:
Let your remembrance apply to Banquo;
Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue:
Unsafe the while, that we
Must lave our honors in these flattering streams;
And make our faces vizards to our hearts,
Disguising what they are.

LADY MACBETH.
You must leave this.

MACBETH.
O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!
Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.

LADY MACBETH.
But in them nature's copy's not eterne.

MACBETH.
There's comfort yet; they are assailable;
Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown
His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons,
The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums,
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
A deed of dreadful note.

LADY MACBETH.
What's to be done?

MACBETH.
Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,
Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night,
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;
And with thy bloody and invisible hand
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
Which keeps me pale!--Light thickens; and the crow
Makes wing to the rooky wood:
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse;
Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.--
Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still;
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill:
So, pr'ythee, go with me.

[Exeunt.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: This scene opens with Lady Macbeth sending a servant to bring her husband to her. She is obviously lonely and curious to know what is going on. While she is waiting on the king's arrival, she reveals her concern for the brooding Macbeth and his fears. In a soliloquy, she states, "Tis safer to be that which we destroy than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy." She knows that her husband is too fearful to gain any pleasure from the crown, and she wants to try and calm him down. She is still the practical advice giver. When Macbeth arrives, she asks him, "Why do you keep alone of sorriest fancies your companions making? ... What's done is done." Macbeth explains that they have wounded the snake, not killed it. He admits to growing fears of retribution for his actions. He also claims that he would rather be dead than to endure the "torture of mind" he is feeling. Lady Macbeth, surprisingly, does not scorn his fearful words as earlier, but gently warns him to appear bright and jovial amongst the guests at dinner. He promises to disguise what is in his heart and asks her to pay special attention to Banquo during the meal. She tells him to quit worrying about Banquo and Fleance, but the audience, like Macbeth, knows this is an impossibility. In fact, the king replies to his wife that his mind is "full of scorpions" and that "there shall be done a deed of dreadful note." When Lady Macbeth asks what is to be done, her husband leaves her in the dark, saying to her, "Be innocent of the knowledge till thou applaud the deed." He is in charge now, not his wife as in earlier scenes; he, however, is still confident that she will agree with the murders after they are accomplished and "applaud the deed. " The scene ends with Macbeth once again asking for night to come quickly. This time he wants the darkness to "cancel and tear to pieces that great bond  which keeps me paled."


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE III.

England. Before the King's Palace.

[Enter Malcolm and Macduff.]

MALCOLM.
Let us seek out some desolate shade and there
Weep our sad bosoms empty.

MACDUFF.
Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men,
Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn
New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
Like syllable of dolour.

MALCOLM.
What I believe, I'll wail;
What know, believe; and what I can redress,
As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
Was once thought honest: you have loved him well;
He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but something
You may deserve of him through me; and wisdom
To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb
To appease an angry god.

MACDUFF.
I am not treacherous.

MALCOLM.
But Macbeth is.
A good and virtuous nature may recoil
In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon;
That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose;
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell:
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
Yet grace must still look so.

MACDUFF.
I have lost my hopes.

MALCOLM.
Perchance even there where I did find my doubts.
Why in that rawness left you wife and child,--
Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,--
Without leave-taking?--I pray you,
Let not my jealousies be your dishonors,
But mine own safeties:--you may be rightly just,
Whatever I shall think.

MACDUFF.
Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs,
The title is affeer'd.--Fare thee well, lord:
I would not be the villain that thou think'st
For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp
And the rich East to boot.

MALCOLM.
Be not offended:
I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
Is added to her wounds. I think, withal,
There would be hands uplifted in my right;
And here, from gracious England, have I offer
Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
Shall have more vices than it had before;
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever,
By him that shall succeed.

MACDUFF.
What should he be?

MALCOLM.
It is myself I mean: in whom I know
All the particulars of vice so grafted
That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd
With my confineless harms.

MACDUFF.
Not in the legions
Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
In evils to top Macbeth.

MALCOLM.
I grant him bloody,
Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
That has a name: but there's no bottom, none,
In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The cistern of my lust; and my desire
All continent impediments would o'erbear,
That did oppose my will: better Macbeth
Than such an one to reign.

MACDUFF.
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
The untimely emptying of the happy throne,
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours: you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
That vulture in you, to devour so many
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclin'd.

MALCOLM.
With this there grows,
In my most ill-compos'd affection, such
A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
Desire his jewels, and this other's house:
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more; that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.

MACDUFF.
This avarice
Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming lust; and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;
Scotland hath foysons to fill up your will,
Of your mere own: all these are portable,
With other graces weigh'd.

MALCOLM.
But I have none: the king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them; but abound
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.

MACDUFF.
O Scotland, Scotland!

MALCOLM.
If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
I am as I have spoken.

MACDUFF.
Fit to govern!
No, not to live!--O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accurs'd
And does blaspheme his breed?--Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king; the queen that bore thee,
Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she lived. Fare-thee-well!
These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
Have banish'd me from Scotland.--O my breast,
Thy hope ends here!

MALCOLM.
Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wiped the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts
To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth
By many of these trains hath sought to win me
Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste: but God above
Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature. I am yet
Unknown to woman; never was forsworn;
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own;
At no time broke my faith; would not betray
The devil to his fellow; and delight
No less in truth than life: my first false speaking
Was this upon myself:--what I am truly,
Is thine and my poor country's to command:
Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men
Already at a point, was setting forth:
Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?

MACDUFF.
Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
'Tis hard to reconcile.

[Enter a Doctor.]

MALCOLM.
Well; more anon.--Comes the king forth, I pray you?

DOCTOR.
Ay, sir: there are a crew of wretched souls
That stay his cure: their malady convinces
The great assay of art; but, at his touch,
Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand,
They presently amend.

MALCOLM.
I thank you, doctor.

[Exit Doctor.]

MACDUFF.
What's the disease he means?

MALCOLM.
'Tis call'd the evil:
A most miraculous work in this good king;
Which often, since my here-remain in England,
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,
All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures;
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken,
To the succeeding royalty he leaves
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
That speak him full of grace.

MACDUFF.
See, who comes here?

MALCOLM.
My countryman; but yet I know him not.

[Enter Ross.]

MACDUFF.
My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.

MALCOLM.
I know him now. Good God, betimes remove
The means that makes us strangers!

ROSS.
Sir, amen.

MACDUFF.
Stands Scotland where it did?

ROSS.
Alas, poor country,--
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks, that rent the air,
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell
Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying or ere they sicken.

MACDUFF.
O, relation
Too nice, and yet too true!

MALCOLM.
What's the newest grief?

ROSS.
That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker;
Each minute teems a new one.

MACDUFF.
How does my wife?

ROSS.
Why, well.

MACDUFF.
And all my children?

ROSS.
Well too.

MACDUFF.
The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

ROSS.
No; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.

MACDUFF.
Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes't?

ROSS.
When I came hither to transport the tidings,
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
Of many worthy fellows that were out;
Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses.

MALCOLM.
Be't their comfort
We are coming thither: gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
An older and a better soldier none
That Christendom gives out.

ROSS.
Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words
That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Where hearing should not latch them.

MACDUFF.
What concern they?
The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
Due to some single breast?

ROSS.
No mind that's honest
But in it shares some woe; though the main part
Pertains to you alone.

MACDUFF.
If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

ROSS.
Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound
That ever yet they heard.

MACDUFF.
Humh! I guess at it.

ROSS.
Your castle is surpris'd; your wife and babes
Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner
Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
To add the death of you.

MALCOLM.
Merciful heaven!--
What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.

MACDUFF.
My children too?

ROSS.
Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.

MACDUFF.
And I must be from thence!
My wife kill'd too?

ROSS.
I have said.

MALCOLM.
Be comforted:
Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.

MACDUFF.
He has no children.--All my pretty ones?
Did you say all?--O hell-kite!--All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?

MALCOLM.
Dispute it like a man.

MACDUFF.
I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me.--Did heaven look on,
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls: heaven rest them now!

MALCOLM.
Be this the whetstone of your sword. Let grief
Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.

MACDUFF.
O, I could play the woman with mine eye,
And braggart with my tongue!--But, gentle heavens,
Cut short all intermission; front to front
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

MALCOLM.
This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may;
The night is long that never finds the day.

[Exeunt.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Outside the palace the original two murderers are joined by a third one sent by Macbeth. As the scene opens, the three of them are waiting for Banquo and Fleance to return from their ride in the countryside in order to carry out the murders plotted by the king. Banquo and Fleance enter on foot and converse about the weather. The dark, cloudy skies cause them to forecast rain. The murderers attack and stab Banquo first. He, in turn, screams to Fleance to "Fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge ." Banquo dies, but his son escapes on foot into the darkness of the night. The murderers comment to one another that they "have lost  best half of our affair," and depart to tell the king the bad news.


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE IV.

Country nearDunsinane: a Wood in view.

[Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old Siward and his Son,
Macduff, Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox, Ross, and Soldiers,
marching.]

MALCOLM.
Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
That chambers will be safe.

MENTEITH.
We doubt it nothing.

SIWARD.
What wood is this before us?

MENTEITH.
The wood of Birnam.

MALCOLM.
Let every soldier hew him down a bough,
And bear't before him; thereby shall we shadow
The numbers of our host, and make discovery
Err in report of us.

SOLDIERS.
It shall be done.

SIWARD.
We learn no other but the confident tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down before't.

MALCOLM.
'Tis his main hope:
For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less have given him the revolt;
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.

MACDUFF.
Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.

SIWARD.
The time approaches,
That will with due decision make us know
What we shall say we have, and what we owe.
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate;
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate:
Towards which advance the war.

[Exeunt, marching.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: This very important scene, filled with flashback, symbolism, imagery, and irony, takes place in the banquet hall of the palace, and opens with King Macbeth entering with his queen, nobles, lords, and attendants. In the beginning, all seems a picture of perfect order. The table is prepared, and Macbeth tells everyone to sit according to their rank from the top of the table downward. He then tells Lady Macbeth to stay seated in order to welcome the guests while he mingles with them. He seems a man in perfect control . As he passes among the guests, the king spies the first murderer, who has just entered the hall. Macbeth tells him, "There's blood upon thy face." The murderer replies that it belongs to Banquo. After Macbeth praises the murderer for this work, the king learns that Fleance has escaped. It is Macbeth's undoing. He pales at the news and says, "Then comes my fit again," a foreshadowing of the real "fit" he is about to display in the banquet hall. The king tries to regain his composure saying that at least the "grown serpent" lies dead, and the smaller serpent is too young to fear today. But the news has visibly shaken Macbeth. The first murderer leaves, and Lady Macbeth seeks out her husband to come and give the toast. As he salutes his guests, Banquo's ghost enters the hall, unnoticed by Macbeth, and sits in his chair. When it is time to seat himself, Macbeth sees there is not an empty place for him and says, "The table's full." Since the others cannot see the ghost of Banquo, they know something is wrong with the king. Matters grow worse when Macbeth points to the ghost and asks, "Which of you have done this?" Then he openly incriminates himself by denying his guilt: "Thou canst say I did it," The nobleman Ross, recognizing Macbeth's state of mind, tells everyone to rise to leave, but Lady Macbeth wants to be in control and save her husband. She tells everyone to stay seated and explains that her husband often has "fits' and has had them since his youth. She further explains that "the fit is momentary; upon a thought he will again be well." She tells them that if they simply ignore him, it will pass. Then she turns on her husband and angrily asks, "Are you a man?" Macbeth answers that he is "a bold one , that dare look on that which might appall the devil." Lady Macbeth then ridicules him further, saying, "This is the very painting of your fear; this is the air-drawn dagger which...led you to Duncan." She ends this first tirade by saying, "Shame itself!" She takes up the verbal abuse against Macbeth again by attacking his male ego and calling him "quite unmanned in folly." This entire dialog serves as a flashback to the former Lady Macbeth, chiding her husband about his lack of courage to murder Duncan. Macbeth then turns and challenges the ghost to speak, which causes the image of Banquo to temporarily depart. To himself, the king bemoans that "murdered men rise again....more strange than such a murder is." He tries again to regain his composure and cover up his damage by taking up his wife's story to the guests. He tells them, "I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing to those that know me." He then goes forth with a toast to all, but the ghost reappears to taunt him. Macbeth challenges the apparition to take any shape but that of a ghost, and he will battle and defeat it, brave words from a sick mind that recalls Macbeth's former self as a proud warrior. Lady Macbeth turns on her husband again and chastises him for spoiling the party: "You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting." Then she turns to the guests and dismisses them, telling them to go out in any order. The well-planned, orderly banquet has dissolved into total chaos. When the guests have departed, the King and Lady Macbeth have a brief conversation that clearly reveals the depth of Macbeth's tortured mind. He says of himself, "I am in blood, stepped in so far that returning were as tedious as go o'er." He fears that "blood will have blood," , so he has put paid spies in the houses of all his nobles. Since Banquo is now dead, he turns his fear toward Macduff. He also says he will do whatever it takes to protect himself, for he is already in so deep it does not matter. He foreshadows further bloodshed when he says, "We are yet but young in deed." Two murders are behind him; more are to come. In order to find out his fate, Macbeth plans to go tomorrow to consult again with the three witches, the personification of evil that he now trusts. The audience can already imagine his future, but Lady Macbeth, lying to herself, says that a little sleep will cure her husband. The irony is that sleep escapes him. There is no respite from his tortured mind. Macbeth seems to slightly recover during the course of the scene and is brave enough to challenge his wife. When she asks if he is a man, he answers that it is a bold man who can look at a ghost and acknowledge that what he sees appalls the devil himself. He also complains to her that she makes him doubt himself . Macbeth is also recovered enough to taunt the ghost by saying, "If thou canst nod, speak too." There is, in this image, a flickering hint of the old warrior, and Macbeth momentarily wins, for the apparition temporarily disappears. When the ghost returns, Macbeth challenges again, daring the figure to take any shape but a ghost, be it "the rugged Russian bear, the armed rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger." Macbeth says he will gladly fight any of these forms without fear, or even fight Banquo in person if he will come back to life, but the audience wonders if he has any fight left in him. Then the king finally orders the "horrible shadow" to depart. The irony is that Macbeth is really the "horrible shadow", a mockery of the hero he used to be. When the ghost leaves for the last time, Macbeth pathetically says, "I am a man again." When Lady Macbeth realizes that her husband is not recovering from his strange behavior, she hastily dismisses the guests . The scene quickly turns into an image of even greater chaos with the lords and ladies leaving without order and in loud conversation about what has just transpired. Shakespeare has written a masterful and dramatic scene, where the chaotic ending of the banquet is in total contrast to its orderly beginning, just as Macbeth is in total contrast to his former heroic self. The symbolism and irony of the banquet scene is the essence of the entire play. Macbeth in the beginning of the play had it all. He was a true man -- a brave warrior who had just won his greatest victory, saved Scotland from ruin, and was honored by the king. He had much to look forward to, until the three evil witches planted a seed of greed in his mind. Suddenly, he had thoughts of being more than just Thane of Cawdor. In weakness, he let his even greedier wife really talk him into murder. His conscience had warned him against the plot, but he was manipulated by Lady Macbeth in an unmanly manner to do it anyway. So by appearing like a man in his wife's eyes, he had, in reality, thrown away his manhood. In this scene, Lady Macbeth is urging her husband to again become a man, when she had earlier begged him to destroy his manliness by ignoring his conscience and committing the murder. But his conscience has now stolen his self-respect, forever. He is a lost soul. His wife cannot save him, as she tries to do in this scene; he can only save himself. Ironically, he has become too unmanly to do that, as clearly demonstrated in the banquet scene. As a result, from this point forward in the play, the audience will watch Macbeth as he totally unravels himself to ruin.


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE V.

The heath.

[Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate.]

FIRST WITCH.
Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.

HECATE.
Have I not reason, beldams as you are,
Saucy and overbold? 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: get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron
Meet me i' the morning: thither he
Will come to know his destiny.
Your vessels and your spells provide,
Your charms, and everything 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
His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear:
And you all know, security
Is mortals' chiefest enemy.

[Music and song within, "Come away, come away" &c.]

Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see,
Sits in a foggy cloud and stays for me.

[Exit.]

FIRST WITCH.
Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again.

[Exeunt.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: This scene takes place once again on a heath with thunder in the background. The three witches of earlier scenes enter and meet their queen, Hecate  who appears to be angry. She explains, in rhyming couplets, that her wrath is due to the witches' failure to consult with her: ................. 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 called 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  Loves for his own end, not for you. In continuing verse, Hecate instructs the witches to meet her tomorrow morning at the pit of Acheron  where Macbeth will join them to learn his future. She instructs them to bring their cauldrons and be ready to conjure up their magic spells that will "draw him on to his confusion." Then Hecate suggests that Macbeth will continue to "spurn fate, scorn death." Things do not look good for the King of Scotland!


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE VI.

Forres. A Room in the Palace.

[Enter Lennox and another Lord.]

LENNOX.
My former speeches have but hit your thoughts,
Which can interpret further: only, I say,
Thing's have been strangely borne. The gracious Duncan
Was pitied of Macbeth:--marry, he was dead:--
And the right valiant Banquo walk'd too late;
Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd,
For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late.
Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous
It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain
To kill their gracious father? damned fact!
How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight,
In pious rage, the two delinquents tear
That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep?
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: and I do think,
That had he Duncan's sons under his key,--
As, an't please heaven, he shall not,--they should find
What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.
But, peace!--for from broad words, and 'cause he fail'd
His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear,
Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell
Where he bestows himself?

LORD.
The son of Duncan,
From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth,
Lives in the English court and is receiv'd
Of the most pious Edward with such grace
That the malevolence of fortune nothing
Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff
Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid
To wake Northumberland, and warlike Siward:
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: and this report
Hath so exasperate the king that he
Prepares for some attempt of war.

LENNOX.
Sent he to Macduff?

LORD.
He did: and with an absolute "Sir, not I,"
The cloudy messenger turns me his back,
And hums, as who should say, "You'll rue the time
That clogs me with this answer."

LENNOX.
And that well might
Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance
His wisdom can provide. 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 accurs'd!

LORD.
I'll send my prayers with him.

[Exeunt.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: This short scene takes place at the palace at Forres, but its purpose is to give the audience information on the state of affairs outside the palace walls. The noble Lennox is conversing with an unnamed lord  and states that as of late "things have been strangely borne. " It is still generally believed that Malcolm and Donaldbain murdered Duncan, their father. In a like manner it is believed that Fleance killed Banquo since he also has fled. Lennox, who speaks in a sarcastic tone, is not certain that Malcolm, Donaldbain, and Fleance are murderers. Their relative crimes are pinned on them because they have fled the country, but why wouldn't they flee to save their own lives in the face of imminent danger. Lennox also questions Macbeth's motives in killing Duncan's accused chamberlains, "for 'twould have angered any heart alive to hear the men  deny it ." Furthermore, Lennox doubts that drunken men could truly have committed the brutal execution. Lennox is also fearful for Malcolm, Donaldbain, and Fleance, for he believes that if Macbeth has the chance, he will kill them. Lennox then changes the subject to Macduff, who he has heard lives in Macbeth's disgrace for missing the royal banquet. He asks the other lord if he knows the whereabouts of Macduff. The lord explains that he has gone to England to petition the "holy king" and to visit with Malcolm, the rightful heir to the Scottish throne. Malcolm, since his flight, has been living in the English court and is treated with grace by King Edward. Macduff is there to convince Edward to help in an insurrection against Macbeth, who has become a tyrant king that the citizens greatly fear. Macduff particularly wants the aid of the warlike Siward and his strong men of Northumberland. The lord then reports that Macbeth has heard about Macduff's petition to the English King and is preparing for war. He also tells how Macbeth sent for Macduff, but the nobleman curtly replied to the king, "Sir, not I." Lennox closes the scene by asking "Some holy angel  fly to the court of England....that a swift blessing may soon return to this our suffering country under a hand accursed!" Macbeth, obviously, is not a popular king! He has reigned for a short period of time, but his evil has already inflicted the land.


prompt:
Chapter: ACT IV. SCENE I.

A dark Cave. In the middle, a Caldron Boiling.

[Thunder. Enter the three Witches.]

FIRST WITCH.
Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

SECOND WITCH.
Thrice; and once the hedge-pig whin'd.

THIRD WITCH.
Harpier cries:--"tis time, 'tis time.

FIRST WITCH.
Round about the caldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.--
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!

ALL.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

SECOND WITCH.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,--
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

ALL.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

THIRD WITCH.
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witch's mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangl'd babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,--
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our caldron.

ALL.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

SECOND WITCH.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

[Enter Hecate.]

HECATE.
O, well done! I commend your pains;
And everyone shall share i' the gains.
And now about the cauldron sing,
Like elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.

Song.
Black spirits and white, red spirits and gray;
Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may.

[Exit Hecate.]

SECOND WITCH.
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes:--
Open, locks, whoever knocks!

[Enter Macbeth.]

MACBETH.
How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!
What is't you do?

ALL.
A deed without a name.

MACBETH.
I conjure you, by that which you profess,--
Howe'er you come to know it,--answer me:
Though you untie the winds, and let them fight
Against the churches; though the yesty waves
Confound and swallow navigation up;
Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down;
Though castles topple on their warders' heads;
Though palaces and pyramids do slope
Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
Of nature's germins tumble all together,
Even till destruction sicken,--answer me
To what I ask you.

FIRST WITCH.
Speak.

SECOND WITCH.
Demand.

THIRD WITCH.
We'll answer.

FIRST WITCH.
Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
Or from our masters?

MACBETH.
Call 'em, let me see 'em.

FIRST WITCH.
Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten
Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten
From the murderer's gibbet throw
Into the flame.

ALL.
Come, high or low;
Thyself and office deftly show!

[Thunder. An Apparition of an armed Head rises.]

MACBETH.
Tell me, thou unknown power,--

FIRST WITCH.
He knows thy thought:
Hear his speech, but say thou naught.

APPARITION.
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff;
Beware the Thane of Fife.--Dismiss me:--enough.

[Descends.]

MACBETH.
Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
Thou hast harp'd my fear aright:--but one word more,--

FIRST WITCH.
He will not be commanded: here's another,
More potent than the first.

[Thunder. An Apparition of a bloody Child rises.]

APPARITION.--
Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!

MACBETH.
Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.

APPARITION.
Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn
The power of man, for none of woman born
Shall harm Macbeth.

[Descends.]

MACBETH.
Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
And sleep in spite of thunder.--What is this,

[Thunder. An Apparition of a Child crowned, with a tree in his
hand, rises.]

That rises like the issue of a king,
And wears upon his baby brow the round
And top of sovereignty?

ALL.
Listen, but speak not to't.

APPARITION.
Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until
Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him.

[Descends.]

MACBETH.
That will never be:
Who can impress the forest; bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good!
Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd 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.]

FIRST WITCH.
Show!

SECOND WITCH.
Show!

THIRD WITCH.
Show!

ALL.
Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart!

[Eight kings appear, and pass over in order, the last with a
glass in his hand; Banquo following.]

MACBETH.
Thou are too like the spirit of Banquo; down!
Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs:--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 twofold balls and treble sceptres carry:
Horrible sight!--Now I see 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his.--What! is this so?

FIRST WITCH.
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.]

MACBETH.
Where are they? Gone?--Let this pernicious hour
Stand aye accursed in the calendar!--
Come in, without there!

[Enter Lennox.]

LENNOX.
What's your grace's will?

MACBETH.
Saw you the weird sisters?

LENNOX.
No, my lord.

MACBETH.
Came they not by you?

LENNOX.
No indeed, my lord.

MACBETH.
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?

LENNOX.
'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
Macduff is fled to England.

MACBETH.
Fled to England!

LENNOX.
Ay, my good lord.

MACBETH.
Time, thou anticipat'st 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.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The fourth and final witch scene in the play is set in a cavern with a boiling cauldron in the middle. As in the other witch scenes, the weather is dark and ominous, with thunder in the background. The three witches are concocting their " hell-broth" and casting spells, obviously while waiting for Macbeth to arrive. As they throw entrails and other vile things into their magic potion and stir it, they chant their famous song: "Double, double, toil, and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble." During their preparations, Hecate, their queen, joins them and praises their efforts, saying, "Oh, well done! I commend your pains and everyone shall share in th' gains." She then instructs the witches to sing and dance around the cauldron. In the midst of their music, Macbeth enters and greets them as "secret, black and midnight hags." He then demands answers to his questions. The witches are eager to oblige and conjure up apparitions for Macbeth to satisfy his questioning. The first one appears with a clap of thunder and is nothing more than a head wearing armor. It calls Macbeth three times, warns him to "beware Macduff," and quickly disappears. Thunder also calls for the second apparition, a child covered with blood. Again the apparition calls Macduff three times and tells him to "be bloody, bold, and resolute: laugh to scorn the power of man; for none of woman born shall harm Macbeth." The king is delighted to hear this news, and his first reaction is to spare Macduff's life since he need not fear him. But he quickly changes his mind, deciding not to tempt fate. The thunder sounds again, and a third apparition appears as a crowned child carrying a tree in his hand. The child tells Macbeth to be brave and proud and not to worry about conspirators because "Macbeth shall never vanquished be until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill shall come against him." This news overjoys Macbeth, for he believes such a feat is an impossibility. Macbeth still wants to know the answer to one more question. "Shall Banquo's issue ever reign in this kingdom?" The witches suggest that the king does not want to hear the answer to that question, but Macbeth insists saying, "Deny me this, and an eternal curse fall on you." Suddenly the cauldron begins to sink, and a trumpet sounds. Then a procession of 8 kings appear, the last one carrying a mirror. Banquo's ghost is at the end of the parade. As each king passes before his eyes, Macbeth looks in horror and realizes its resemblance to Banquo. Macbeth is heart sick that the original prophecy will come true, and he curses the witches and all who trust them. After the kingly apparitions have departed, the witches perform again with music and dance and then suddenly vanish. Macbeth curses the day and calls to Lennox, who has been waiting outside. Macbeth questions him to find out if he has seen the three weird sisters, but he has not. Lennox, however, has news for the king. Macduff has fled to England. Macbeth is infuriated by the news and seeks retaliation. He plans to take Macduff's castle by surprise and kill his wife and children. The chaos of the scene will, it appears, end in greater chaos, murder, and mayhem.


prompt:
Chapter: SCENE II.

Fife. A Room in 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 MACDUFF.
He had none:
His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.

ROSS.
You know not
Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.

LADY MACDUFF.
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.

ROSS.
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!

LADY MACDUFF.
Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.

ROSS.
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.]

LADY MACDUFF.
Sirrah, your father's dead;
And what will you do now? How will you live?

SON.
As birds do, mother.

LADY MACDUFF.
What, with worms and flies?

SON.
With what I get, I mean; and so do they.

LADY MACDUFF.
Poor bird! thou'dst never fear the net nor lime,
The pit-fall nor the gin.

SON.
Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
My father is not dead, for all your saying.

LADY MACDUFF.
Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do for father?

SON.
Nay, how will you do for a husband?

LADY MACDUFF.
Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.

SON.
Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.

LADY MACDUFF.
Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet, i' faith,
With wit enough for thee.

SON.
Was my father a traitor, mother?

LADY MACDUFF.
Ay, that he was.

SON.
What is a traitor?

LADY MACDUFF.
Why, one that swears and lies.

SON.
And be all traitors that do so?

LADY MACDUFF.
Everyone that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.

SON.
And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?

LADY MACDUFF.
Every one.

SON.
Who must hang them?

LADY MACDUFF.
Why, the honest men.

SON.
Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars
and swearers enow to beat the honest men and hang up them.

LADY MACDUFF.
Now, God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt
thou do for a father?

SON.
If he were dead, you'ld weep for him: if you would not, it
were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father.

LADY MACDUFF.
Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!

[Enter a Messenger.]

MESSENGER.
Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
Though in your state of honor I am perfect.
I doubt some danger does approach you nearly:
If you will take a homely man's advice,
Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer.

[Exit.]

LADY MACDUFF.
Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm. But I remember now
I am in this earthly world; where to do harm
Is often laudable; to do good sometime
Accounted dangerous folly:  why then, alas,
Do I put up that womanly defence,
To say I have done no harm?--What are these faces?

[Enter Murderers.]

FIRST MURDERER.
Where is your husband?

LADY MACDUFF.
I hope, in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.

FIRST MURDERER.
He's a traitor.

SON.
Thou liest, thou shag-haar'd villain!

FIRST MURDERER.
What, you egg!

[Stabbing him.]

Young fry of treachery!

SON.
He has kill'd me, mother:
Run away, I pray you!

[Dies. Exit Lady Macduff, crying Murder, and pursued by the
Murderers.]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: This scene takes place at Macduff's castle in Fife. Lady Macduff, with her young son at her side, is conversing with noble Ross about her husband's having fled the country. She is understandably upset, feels deserted, fears for his life, and thinks "his flight was madness. " She openly calls him a traitor who acted out of fear. Ross tries to convince her that he acted from wisdom, not fear. Lady Macduff scoffs and says, "Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes... he loves us not." Ross assures her that her husband is noble and wise, and only the times are traitorous. Almost overcome with emotion, Ross leaves, and the mother turns her attention to her child, saying to him that she fears his father is dead. The son refuses to believe it, but he does ask if his father was a traitor. His mother answers that anyone who lies is a traitor and should be hanged by honest men. With a child's vision, her son answers that " there are liars enow to beat the honest men and hang them up." Lady Macduff laughs at his grown up thoughts, but the laughter is interrupted by an unknown messenger who has come to warn Lady Macduff that "some danger does approach you nearly." He advises her to take the children and flee from Fife. Then he is off. Lady Macduff is too melancholy and astonished to react. She asks herself, "Whither should I fly?... I have done no harm." In truth, there is not time for escape. The murderers enter and stab the young boy who calls out a warning. "He has killed me, mother; run away, I pray you." Lady Macduff, screaming "murder," runs out, pursued by the murderers who are certain to kill her as well.