Macbeth

Macbeth

Storyboard Text

  • How goes the night, boy?
  • Who's there?
  • The moon is down; I have not heard the clock.
  • A friend.
  • What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's abed. He hath been in unusual pleasure, and Sent forth great largess to your offices
  • Being unprepared, Our will became the servant to defect; Which else should free have wrought.
  • I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters. To you they have showed some truth.
  • 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.
  • Thanks, sir; the like to you.
  • Go bid thy mistress: when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
  • 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.
  • 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.
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