'They met me in the day of success: and I have 

learned by the perfectest report, they have more in 

them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire 

to question them further, they made themselves air, 

into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in 

the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who 

all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title, 

before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred 

me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that 

shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver 

thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou 

mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being 

ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it 

to thy heart, and farewell.' 
 
 

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be 

What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; 

It is too full o' the milk of human kindness 

To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; 

Art not without ambition, but without 

The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly,

That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, 

And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis, 

That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it; 

And that which rather thou dost fear to do 

Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither, 

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; 

And chastise with the valour of my tongue 

All that impedes thee from the golden round, 

Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem 

To have thee crown'd withal.