Macbeth by William Shakespear

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction' started by MiTouch-, Dec 7, 2012.

  1. Hey all, here is a very famous play written William Shakespear. The genre of this story is Deception, and it is very interesting. I hope you all liked reading it. I will try and post the next scenes day by day :) thank you!



    Act 1, Scene 1

    SCENE I. A desert place.

    Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches

    First Witch

    When shall we three meet again
    In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

    Second Witch

    When the hurlyburly's done,
    When the battle's lost and won.

    Third Witch

    That will be ere the set of sun.

    First Witch

    Where the place?

    Second Witch

    Upon the heath.

    Third Witch

    There to meet with Macbeth.

    First Witch

    I come, Graymalkin!

    Second Witch

    Paddock calls.

    Third Witch

    Anon.

    ALL

    Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthyair.



    Act 1, Scene 2

    SCENE II. A camp near Forres.

    Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant

    DUNCAN

    What bloody man is that? He can report,
    As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
    The newest state.

    MALCOLM

    This is the sergeant
    Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
    'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!
    Say to the king the knowledge of the broil
    As thou didst leave it.

    Sergeant

    Doubtful it stood;
    As two spent swimmers, that do cling together
    And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald--
    Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
    The multiplying villanies of nature
    Do swarm upon him--from the western isles
    Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
    And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
    Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak:
    For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name--
    Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
    Which smoked with bloody execution,
    Like valour's minion carved out his passage
    Till he faced the slave;
    Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
    Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps,
    And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

    DUNCAN

    O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!

    Sergeant

    As whence the sun 'gins his reflection
    Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
    So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come
    Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark:
    No sooner justice had with valour arm'd
    Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels,
    But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage,
    With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men
    Began a fresh assault.

    DUNCAN

    Dismay'd not this
    Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?

    Sergeant

    Yes;
    As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
    If I say sooth, I must report they were
    As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they
    Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
    Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
    Or memorise another Golgotha,
    I cannot tell.
    But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

    DUNCAN

    So well thy words become thee as thy wounds;
    They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons.

    Exit Sergeant, attended
    Who comes here?

    Enter ROSS

    MALCOLM

    The worthy thane of Ross.

    LENNOX

    What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look
    That seems to speak things strange.

    ROSS

    God save the king!

    DUNCAN

    Whence camest thou, worthy thane?

    ROSS

    From Fife, great king;
    Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky
    And fan our people cold. Norway himself,
    With terrible numbers,
    Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
    The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict;
    Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof,
    Confronted him with self-comparisons,
    Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm.
    Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude,
    The victory fell on us.

    DUNCAN

    Great happiness!

    ROSS

    That now
    Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition:
    Nor would we deign him burial of his men
    Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch
    Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

    DUNCAN

    No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive
    Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death,
    And with his former title greet Macbeth.

    ROSS

    I'll see it done.

    DUNCAN

    What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won.


    To be continued.....
     
  2. Reserved.
     
  3. Resereved.,