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All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be King hereafter!
All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!
My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight.
Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! Thy letters have transported me beyond this ignorant present,
This castle hath a pleasant seat. The air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses.
Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!
I'll go no more. I am afraid to think What I have done; Look on't again I dare not.
These deeds must not be thought After these ways. So, it will make us mad.
Our royal master's murdered!
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