SECOND WITCH. Not so happy, yet much happier. 

 THIRD WITCH. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! 

 FIRST WITCH. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! 

 MACBETH. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more. By Sinel’s death I know I am Thane of Glamis; But how of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives, A prosperous gentleman; and to be king Stands not within the prospect of belief, No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence You owe this strange intelligence? or why Upon this blasted heath you stop our way With such prophetic greeting?—Speak, I charge you. 

[Witches vanish.]

Witches

 BANQUO. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them. Whither are they vanish’d? 

 MACBETH. Into the air; and what seem’d corporal, Melted as breath into the wind. Would they had stay’d! 

 BANQUO. Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner? 

 MACBETH. Your children shall be kings. 

 BANQUO. You shall be king. 

 MACBETH. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not so? 

 BANQUO. To the selfsame tune and words. Who’s here? 

Enter Ross and Angus.

Ross

Angus

 ROSS. The King hath happily receiv’d, Macbeth, The news of thy success, and when he reads Thy personal venture in the rebels’ fight, His wonders and his praises do contend Which should be thine or his: silenc’d with that, In viewing o’er the rest o’ th’ selfsame day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as tale Came post with post; and everyone did bear Thy praises in his kingdom’s great defence, And pour’d them down before him. 

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