This title is for centering. This title is for centering. This title is for centering. This title is for centering.
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- Tell me, what have you done? - I have slit a boar's throat. - And you?
The wife of a helmsman has entered my thoughts, sent by the devil. I shall drown the boat on which her husband sailed.
- I shall give you a north wind. - I shall raise huge waves. - I will drive him to run aground.
A drum! What can it be?
Macbeth comes! Here he is!
The vagabond sisters fly through the air, float on the waves, they can weave a circle that embraces the earth and sea.
- I have never seen a day so foul and yet so lovely. - Nor so glorious!
- Who are these women? - Who are you? Of this world or another? I'd call you women, but your dirty beards prevent me from doing so.
Come, speak!
- Hail, Macbeth, Thane of Glamis! - Hail, Macbeth, Thane of Cawdor! - Hail, Macbeth, King of Scotland!
Do happy omens make you tremble thus?
Speak to me also of the future, you fantastical creatures, if you are not in the dark about it.
- Hail! You shall be less than Macbeth, but greater! - Happier than he, but not as happy. - Not king, but king of the people.
Hail, Macbeth and Banquo! Banquo and Macbeth, hail!
- They have gone. Your sons shall be kings. - And you, king before them.
Mysterious words!
- Brave Macbeth! Your king has elected you Thane of Cawdor. - But that Thane still reigns there.
- No! He died on the block after he was struck down by the law. - (Those witches from Hell spoke the truth!)
Two prophecies are now fulfilled. The third promises me a throne.
But why do I feel my hairs stand on end? Thoughts of blood, from whence are you born?
I shall not raise my rapacious hand to the crown which Fate offers me.
(How he swells with pride in the hope of a royal throne.)
(But often the evil spirit of Hell speaks truth in order to deceive us, and then abandons us, accursed, over the abyss it has dug for us.)
(Why did Macbeth hear our news so coldly? Why did he not appear more content?)
They have gone. We shall meet again when we hear the crashing of thunderbolts.
Let us flee and await the working of the fates in the witches' Sabbath. We will see Macbeth return, and we shall speak our prophecy to him.
"On the day of victory I met them. I was rapt in wonder at the things they said:"
"The king's messengers hailed me, Thane of Cawdor, just as the seers prophesied, predicting a crown upon my head."
"Lock this secret into your heart. Farewell."
You have an ambitious spirit, Macbeth. You aspire to greatness, but will you be wicked?
The path to power is strewn with misdeeds, and woe to him who sets his faltering foot upon that path and then retreats!
Come! Hurry, I wish to kindle that cold heart of yours.
I will give you courage to accomplish the audacious deed.
The seers promised you the throne of Scotland.
Why delay? Accept the gift! Ascend the throne and reign!