Meanwhile, in the dark wood, the three witches plotted....
Good sir, why do you start and fear things that do sound so fair?
All hail Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter.
Killing swine!
Speak, if you can. What are you?
What are these? So withered and so wild in their attire that look not like th' inhabitants o' th' earth.
Hail
If you can look into the seeds of timeAnd say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak, then
Hail
A drum, a drum, Macbeth doth come
Hail
Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
And they disappeared into a cloud of smoke and stars.
Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more.By Sinel’s death I know I am thane of Glamis.But how of Cawdor? The thane of Cawdor lives,A prosperous gentleman, and to be kingStands not within the prospect of belief, Speak, I charge you.