Updated: 6/13/2020
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Storyboard Text

  • Here had we now our country’s honor roofed,Were the graced person of our Banquo present,Who may I rather challenge for unkindnessThan pity for mischance.
  • Here is a place reserved, sir.
  • Here, my good lord. What is ’t that moves your highness?
  • Where?
  • Which of you have done this?
  • Thou canst not say I did it. Never shakeThy gory locks at me.
  • Sit, worthy friends. My lord is often thusAnd hath been from his youth. Pray you, keep seat.The fit is momentary; upon a thoughtHe will again be well. If much you note him,You shall offend him and extend his passion.Feed and regard him not.
  • Gentlemen, rise. His highness is not well.
  • O proper stuff!This is the very painting of your fearThis is the air-drawn dagger which you saidLed you to Duncan.
  • Are you a man?
  • Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on thatWhich might appall the devil.
  • Prithee, see there! Behold! Look! Lo!
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