Updated: 1/29/2021

Storyboard Text

  • Harpier cries, “'Tis time, ’tis time.”
  • Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whined.
  • Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed.
  • Come, high or low;
  • Pour in sow’s blood, that hath eaten Her nine farrow; grease that’s sweaten From the murderer’s gibbet throw Into the flame.
  • Call them. Let me see them.
  • Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.
  • Laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born Shall harm Macbeth.
  • Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are.
  • Tell me, thou unknown power