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all hail macbeth, that shalt be king herafter
the prince of Cumberland! this is a step on which i must not fall down
The raven himself is hoarse. That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan. Under my battlements
Will all Neptune’s ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?
Macbeth shall never vanquished be until Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill Shall come against him
As I did stand my watch upon the hill,I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,The wood began to move.
Of all men else I have avoided thee:But get thee back; my soul is too much chargedWith blood of thine already.