Fair is foul, and foul is fair: / Hover through the fog and filthy air.

And oftentimes to win us to our harm, / The instruments of darkness tell us truths; / Win us with honest trifles, to betray’s / In deepest consequence.—

All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! SECOND WITCH. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! THIRD WITCH. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter!

Upon my head they plac’d a fruitless crown, / And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, / Thence to be wrench’d with an unlineal hand, / No son of mine succeeding.

He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear / His hopes ’bove wisdom, grace, and fear. / And you all know, security / Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.

Be bloody, bold, and resolute. Laugh to scorn / The power of man, for none of woman born / Shall harm Macbeth.

Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care / Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: / Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until / Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill / Shall come against him.

Let every soldier hew him down a bough, / And bear’t before him. Thereby shall we shadow / The numbers of our host, and make discovery / Err in report of us.

I bear a charmed life, which must not yield / To one of woman born.

And be these juggling fiends no more believ’d, / That palter with us in a double sense; / That keep the word of promise to our ear, / And break it to our hope!—