1.

(A person reporting a battle and Macbeth's fighting skill to the king. He is battle worn and in awe of what he witnessed.)

For brave Macbeth—well he deserves that name—

Disdaining Fortune, with his brandished steel,

Which smoked with bloody execution,

Like Valor's minion, carved out his passage

Till he faced the slave;

Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,

Till he unseamed him from the nave to th' chops,

And fixed his head upon our battlements.

2.

(A woman scornfully mocking her husband.)

Was the hope drunk

Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since?

And wakes it now, to look so green and pale

At what it did so freely? From this time

Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard

To be the same in thine own act and valor

As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that

Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life

And live a coward in thine own esteem,

Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would,"

Like the poor cat i' th' adage?

3.

(A guard at the gate, pretending he is the porter to the gate to hell and seeing those who enter. He is tipsy and not too bright, but imaginative.)

Here's a knocking indeed! If a man were porter of hell gate, he should have old turning the key. (Knock.) Knock, knock, knock! Who's there, i' th' name of Beelzebub? Here's a farmer that hanged himself on th' expectation of plenty. Come in, time-server! Have napkins enow about you; here you'll sweat for 't. (Knock.) Knock, knock! Who's there, in th' other devil's name? Faith, here's an equivocator!

4.

(A man, devastated to learn his king has been murdered. He may or may not have been said murderer.)

Had I but died an hour before this chance,

I had lived a blessèd time; for from this instant

There's nothing serious in mortality.

All is but toys. Renown and grace is dead.

The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees

Is left this vault to brag of.

5.

(A person of indeterminate age and questionable nature fashion, chanting or singing.)

Fillet of a fenny snake

In the cauldron boil and bake.

Eye of newt and toe of frog,

Wool of bat and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork and blindworm's sting,

Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

6.

(A man calling forth a group of people of indeterminate age and questionable nature fashion. He is demanding answers but underneath is worried about the future, and past sins are haunting him.)

I conjure you by that which you profess

—Howe'er you come to know it—answer me.

Though you untie the winds and let them fight

Against the churches, though the yeasty waves

Confound and swallow navigation up,

Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down,

Though castles topple on their warders' heads,

Though palaces and pyramids do slope

Their heads to their foundations, though the treasure

Of nature's germens tumble all together

Even till destruction sicken, answer me

To what I ask you.

7.

(A man, dismayed at what his country has fallen to, patriotic and driven to action.)

Fit to govern?

No, not to live.—O nation miserable,

With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptered,

When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,

Since that the truest issue of thy throne

By his own interdiction stands accursed

And does blaspheme his breed?—Thy royal father

Was a most sainted king. The queen that bore thee,

Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet,

Died every day she lived. Fare thee well.

These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself

Hath banished me from Scotland.—O my breast,

Thy hope ends here!

8.

(A woman, upset her husband has chosen to flee rather than return to her and their children. Chiding and sorrowful, she is a faithful wife, fiercely protective of her children, who has lost her patience with her husband.)

Wisdom? To leave his wife, to leave his babes,

His mansion and his titles in a place

From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;

He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren,

The most diminutive of birds, will fight,

Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.

All is the fear, and nothing is the love,

As little is the wisdom, where the flight

So runs against all reason.

9.

(A person describing a castle and the birds who choose to nest there, uplifting, observant.)

This guest of summer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,

By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath

Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze,

Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird

Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle.

Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,

The air is delicate.