Scene 1: A desolate place - Setting description Thunder and Lightning - Stage Direction When the battle's lost, and won Upon the heath. There to meet with Macbeth I come, Graymalkin. Paddock calls Fair is foul, and foul is fair fog and filthy air Scene 2: Doubtful it stood merciless Macdonald all's too weak: For Brave Macbeth - well he deserves that name brandished steel... smoked with bloody execution Like Valour's minion unseamed him from the nave to the chaps Fixed his head upon our battlements valiant cousin worthy gentleman Bellona's bridegroom What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won Scene 3: tempest-tossed so foul and fair a day So withered and so wild in their attire you should be women Speak if you can My noble partner Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear' Lesser... and greater. Not so happy, and yet much happier Stay, you imperfect speakers Speak, I charge you can the devil speak true Why do you dress me in borrowed robes? to win us to our harms, the instruments of darkness tell us truths supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill, cannot be good strange garments Scene 4: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust O worthiest cousin the loyalty... pays itself I must fall down, or else overleap Stars, hide your fires, Let not light see my black and deep desires Scene 5: I burned in desire too full of the milk of human kindness That I may pour my spirits The raven himself is hoarse that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Come you spirits... unsex me here direst cruelty! Stop up the access and passage to remorse take my milk for gall murdering ministers pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell keen knife Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it We will speak further- Leave all the rest to me Scene 6+7: We love him highly We still have judgement here Bloody instructions To plague the inventor poisoned chalice double trust kinsman host, who should against his murderer shut the door his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued newborn babe I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself And falls on the other We will proceed no further Was the hope drunk Wherein you dressed yourself? so green and pale Such I account thy love Art thou afeared coward... poor cat in the adage When you durst do it, then you were a man dashed the brains out spongy officers mock the time False face must hide what the false heart doth know