A drum, a drum
Macbeth doth come
Of noble having, and of royal hope
For a charm of powerful trouble makes an eternal curse fall.
Strange images of death
pour'd down before him.
The harvest is your own.
Let not light see black and deep desires
but teach bloody instruction.
The fatal entrance of Duncan.
The moon is down.
Their candles are all out.
Witchcraft celebrates pale Hecate's offerings.
All hail, Macbeth! That be king!
Things do sound so fair
Solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence!
Let the earth hide thee!
Shakes so my single state of man!
Peace.
Macbeth shall sleep no more.
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