Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all,
As the Weird Women promis’d; and, I fear,
Thou play’dst most foully for’t; yet it was said
It should not stand in thy posterity;
But that myself should be the root and father
Of many kings. If there come truth from them
(As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine)
Why, by the verities on thee made good,
May they not be my oracles as well,
And set me up in hope? But hush; no more.
Sennet sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Macbeth as Queen; Lennox,
Ross, Lords, and Attendants.
You have it now, King—Glamis, Cawdor, all—just as the Weird Women promised. And I'm afraid you played most foully for it. Yet they said it would not stand in your descendants; rather, that I myself would be the root and father of many kings. If there is truth from them (as their promises have shone on you, Macbeth), why, given that their words to you have proven true, may they not also be my oracles, and lift me up in hope? But hush; no more.
You got it all—king of all three titles, just like the witches said. But I think you got it through murder. They also said it wouldn't stay in your kids, but that I'd be the father of kings instead. If the witches told you the truth (and they clearly did about you), why can't they be right about me too? Why can't my family be kings as well? But that's enough. Don't think about it.
you have it all just as promised but you played foully if their words are true for you why not for me but hush no more
Here’s our chief guest.
That's our most important guest.
Here comes our main guest.
theres our main guest
If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap in our great feast,
And all-thing unbecoming.
If he had been forgotten, it would have been like a gap in our great feast—completely inappropriate.
If we forgot him, the whole feast would fall apart. It would look terrible.
if forgotten gap in our great feast all-thing unbecoming
Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir,
And I’ll request your presence.
Tonight we hold a formal supper, sir, and I ask for your presence.
We're having a fancy dinner tonight, and we'd love for you to be there.
tonight solemn supper request your presence
Let your Highness
Command upon me, to the which my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tie
For ever knit.
Your Majesty, command me—my duties to you are bound with a knot that can never be untied.
Whatever you say, sir. I'm yours forever.
command upon me my duties bound indissoluble tie forever knit
Ride you this afternoon?
Are you riding out this afternoon?
Are you going riding this afternoon?
u riding this afternoon?
Ay, my good lord.
Yes, my good lord.
Yes, my lord.
yes sir
We should have else desir’d your good advice
(Which still hath been both grave and prosperous)
In this day’s council; but we’ll take tomorrow.
Is’t far you ride?
We would have liked your good advice (which has always been both thoughtful and profitable) in today's council, but we'll take it tomorrow. Is it far you're riding?
I'd want your advice for today's meeting—you always give great counsel. But I guess we'll do it tomorrow. Are you going far?
we should have desired your good advice but we'll take tomorrow is't far you ride
As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
’Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better,
I must become a borrower of the night,
For a dark hour or twain.
As far as I need to go to fill the time between now and supper. If my horse holds up, I should be back; if not, I'll have to borrow the darkness for an hour or two.
Far enough to use up the time till dinner. If my horse is fast enough, I'll make it back. Otherwise, I'll be borrowing some dark night time.
fill up the time from now till supper borrow the night for a dark hour
Fail not our feast.
Don't miss our dinner.
Don't miss the feast.
dont miss the feast
My lord, I will not.
I won't, my lord.
I won't, sir.
i will not
We hear our bloody cousins are bestow’d
In England and in Ireland; not confessing
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
With strange invention. But of that tomorrow,
When therewithal we shall have cause of state
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu,
Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?
We hear our bloody cousins are lodged in England and Ireland, not confessing their cruel parricide but filling their listeners with strange lies. But we'll discuss that tomorrow, when we have time to deal with matters of state together. Go now, on your horses. Until you return tonight. Does Fleance go with you?
I heard Malcolm and Donalbain are in England and Ireland now, making excuses about killing their father and lying through their teeth. We can deal with that tomorrow. Go on your ride. Until tonight. Is Fleance with you?
bloody cousins in england and ireland filling with strange invention we'll talk tomorrow go to horse does fleance ride with you
Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon’s.
Yes, my good lord: our duties require us to go.
Yes, my lord, I need to get going.
yes sir gotta go
I wish your horses swift and sure of foot;
And so I do commend you to their backs.
Farewell.—
I hope your horses are quick and sure-footed. So I place you in their care. Farewell.
I hope your horses are fast and steady. Take care. Goodbye.
safe travels goodbye
Scholars often identify Act 3 scene 1 as the moment Macbeth's tragedy becomes irreversible. The murder of Duncan was terrible but comprehensible — an act of ambition and manipulation, carried out in horror and immediately regretted. The murder of Banquo is different in kind. Macbeth is not reacting to pressure from Lady Macbeth or from an immediate threat. He is reasoning, calmly and alone, toward murder as policy. His logic is airtight within its own premises: if the witches' prophecy is true and Banquo's descendants will be kings, then having the crown now is meaningless — it will be taken. The only way to prevent this is to end Banquo's line. The horror is that this is rational. Political philosophers call this kind of reasoning 'preventive aggression' — attacking a future threat before it materialises. What Macbeth cannot see is that the very act of killing Banquo produces the insecurity he was trying to prevent: Fleance escapes, the ghost appears at the banquet, the court grows suspicious. Violence does not purchase safety; it compounds danger.
Let every man be master of his time
Till seven at night; to make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
Till supper time alone: while then, God be with you.
Let every man have control of his time until seven in the evening; to make our company all the sweeter to welcome, we will keep to ourselves until supper time alone: until then, may God be with you.
Everyone should spend their time as they like until seven tonight; to make our gathering even better, I'll stay by myself until dinner: until then, take care of yourselves.
everyone's free til 7 we hang alone til dinner then we party together stay good til then
Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men
Our pleasure?
Sir, a word with you. Are those men attending to our wishes?
Hey, a word with you. Are those men doing what I asked?
hey you are those men waiting for us?
They are, my lord, without the palace gate.
They are, my lord, waiting outside the palace gate.
Yes, sir. They're out by the gate.
waiting outside the palace gate
Bring them before us.
Bring them in to me.
Bring them in.
bring them here
To be thus is nothing,
But to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep, and in his royalty of nature
Reigns that which would be fear’d: ’tis much he dares;
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety. There is none but he
Whose being I do fear: and under him
My genius is rebuk’d; as, it is said,
Mark Antony’s was by Caesar. He chid the sisters
When first they put the name of king upon me,
And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like,
They hail’d him father to a line of kings:
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. If’t be so,
For Banquo’s issue have I fil’d my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder’d;
Put rancours in the vessel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man,
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come, fate, into the list,
And champion me to th’ utterance!—Who’s there?—
To be king is nothing if I cannot be safely king. My fears about Banquo run deep, and his natural dignity contains all that should be feared: he is bold, wise, and acts in safety. No one but him makes me afraid; my power feels diminished beside him, like Mark Antony felt beside Caesar. When the witches first called me king, they told Banquo he would father a line of kings. They put an infertile crown on my head and a barren scepter in my hand, to be torn away by someone not my son. If this is true, then for Banquo's children I have destroyed my mind, murdered good Duncan, filled my peace with hatred, and given my eternal soul to the devil, all to make Banquo's children kings! Rather than that, come fate into battle, and I will fight you to the death!
Being king means nothing if I can't feel safe doing it. My fear of Banquo runs really deep. He's got this natural authority that's actually frightening—he's bold, he's smart, and he knows how to stay safe. He's the only one who scares me; next to him my power feels weak, like how Antony felt small compared to Caesar. When the witches first made me king, they said Banquo would have sons who'd be kings. They gave me a crown that can't have children and a scepter that someone outside my family will take away. So basically, I've wrecked my own peace, murdered Duncan, sold my soul, all so Banquo's kids can be kings? No way—I'll fight fate itself if I have to!
being king means nothing if i'm not safe banquo scares me—he's bold & wise no one else frightens me like he does the witches said his kids would be kings i murdered duncan for nothing i won't let that happen
Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.
Now go to the door and stay there until we call you.
Go wait by the door and stay there until I call for you.
go wait by the door stay there til i need you
Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
Did we not have a conversation just yesterday?
Didn't we just talk yesterday?
we talked yesterday right?
It was, so please your Highness.
Yes, it was, if it pleases your Majesty.
Yes, your Majesty.
yes sire
Well then, now
Have you consider’d of my speeches? Know
That it was he, in the times past, which held you
So under fortune, which you thought had been
Our innocent self? This I made good to you
In our last conference, pass’d in probation with you
How you were borne in hand, how cross’d, the instruments,
Who wrought with them, and all things else that might
To half a soul and to a notion craz’d
Say, “Thus did Banquo.”
Well then, have you thought about what I said? You understand that Banquo held you down in fortune, which you believed was an accident—not my doing? I proved this to you in our last meeting, showed you how you were cheated, crossed at every turn, who was behind it, and everything else that might convince even a half-wit that this was Banquo's doing.
Okay, so have you been thinking about what we talked about? You know Banquo was the one keeping you down—and you thought it was just bad luck? Last time we met, I showed you how he worked against you, who he was working with, all of it. Even half an idiot would see it was Banquo.
have you consider'd of my speeches banquo held you down it was he in times past showed you the proof
You made it known to us.
You did, my liege.
Yeah, you did.
you made it known
The murderers are not given backstories in the text — Macbeth claims he has already told them their grievances against Banquo in a previous (offstage) meeting. What matters is what Macbeth does with them in this scene. He does not simply order the killing; he invests considerable rhetorical energy in making the murderers want to do it — with the dogs catalogue, with the appeal to pride, with the manufactured grievance. This tells us something important: Macbeth cannot simply command murder the way a secure tyrant might. He needs the murderers to feel it is justified, perhaps because he himself needs to believe that Banquo deserves death. The scene also raises the uncomfortable question of class: these are men ground down by poverty and social exclusion, being used as instruments by a nobleman who will never acknowledge them. Shakespeare is careful not to make them merely villainous; their resentment is real, their circumstances are desperate. They are the collateral damage of power politics.
I did so; and went further, which is now
Our point of second meeting. Do you find
Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? Are you so gospell’d,
To pray for this good man and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow’d you to the grave,
And beggar’d yours forever?
I did, and I went further—which is why we're meeting again. Now tell me: can you just accept this and move on? Are you so religious that you'd pray for this good man and his children, even though his heavy hand has beaten you into the grave and destroyed your family forever?
Yeah, and now I'm saying: are you really gonna just take it? Are you so churchy that you'd forgive Banquo and his kids, even though he's been crushing you and destroying your family?
went further our point of second meeting can you let this go are you so gospell'd to pray for him
We are men, my liege.
We are real men, my lord.
We're men, my lord.
we r men
Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men;
As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept
All by the name of dogs: the valu’d file
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The housekeeper, the hunter, every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him clos’d; whereby he does receive
Particular addition, from the bill
That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station in the file,
Not i’ th’ worst rank of manhood, say’t;
And I will put that business in your bosoms,
Whose execution takes your enemy off,
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,
Which in his death were perfect.
Yes, you're catalogued as men, but men come in varieties—just as hounds, greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, and curs, fierce shoughs, water-dogs, and half-wolves are all just called 'dogs,' but the list distinguishes the swift from the slow, the clever from the dull, the housekeeping from the hunting dog, each with its own gifts from nature. So it is with men. If you believe you rank somewhere in the hierarchy of manhood—not at the bottom—then tell me, and I'll put a task before you whose doing will remove your enemy, bind you to my heart and to my love. Right now I'm sick as long as he's alive, and would be perfectly well when he's dead.
Sure, you're 'men' on the list, but men aren't all the same, just like dogs come in all types—greyhounds, mutts, water dogs, half-wolves—they're all just 'dogs,' but everyone knows they're different. Fast, slow, smart, dumb, different jobs, different abilities. Same with men. If you think you're above the bottom of the manhood pile, tell me. I'll give you a job: kill my enemy, and you'll have my heart. Right now I'm sick while he lives. When he dies, I'll be perfect again.
catalogue ye go for men like hounds greyhounds curs shoughs water-rugs all by name of dogs but distinguish'd if you have station not worst rank i'll put business in your bosoms
I am one, my liege,
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Hath so incens’d that I am reckless what
I do to spite the world.
I'm one, my liege, whom the world's cruel blows and beatings have so enraged that I don't care what I do to spite it.
I'm the guy who's been beaten down so much by life that I'll do anything to hurt back.
vile blows and buffets incens'd that i am reckless what i do to spite the world
And I another,
So weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune,
That I would set my life on any chance,
To mend it or be rid on’t.
And I'm another, so worn out by bad fortune, so worn down by life, that I'd bet my life on any chance to change it or be rid of it.
And I'm the other. Life's beaten me so much that I'd risk everything for a change.
weary with disasters tugg'd with fortune would set my life on any chance mend it or be rid on't
Both of you
Know Banquo was your enemy.
You both know that Banquo was your enemy.
Come on, you're both well aware that Banquo was your enemy.
banquo was ur enemy
True, my lord.
That's true, my lord.
Yeah, it's true.
true my lord
So is he mine; and in such bloody distance,
That every minute of his being thrusts
Against my near’st of life; and though I could
With barefac’d power sweep him from my sight,
And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not,
For certain friends that are both his and mine,
Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall
Who I myself struck down: and thence it is
That I to your assistance do make love,
Masking the business from the common eye
For sundry weighty reasons.
He is to me as well, and we are in such bitter conflict that every moment of his existence is a threat to my life. Although I could openly strike him down and justify it openly, I cannot, because certain friends belong to both him and me, and I cannot lose their affection. So I must seem to mourn his death publicly, even though I myself struck him down. That's why I'm asking for your help—I'm hiding this business from the public eye for several serious reasons.
He is to me too, and being around him is like a knife to my chest every second. I could just kill him openly and get away with it, but I can't—we have mutual friends who'd lose respect for me if I just took him out directly. So I need to hide this from people. I need your help to do it secretly for good reasons.
so is he mine bloody distance every minute thrusts against my near'st of life yet i must not for certain friends mask the business
We shall, my lord,
Perform what you command us.
We will perform whatever you command, my lord.
We'll do it, sir.
perform what you command us
Though our lives—
Though our lives—
Even if it costs—
though our lives
Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most,
I will advise you where to plant yourselves,
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o’ th’ time,
The moment on’t; for’t must be done tonight
And something from the palace; always thought
That I require a clearness. And with him
(To leave no rubs nor botches in the work)
Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
Whose absence is no less material to me
Than is his father’s, must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart.
I’ll come to you anon.
Your courage shines through. Within an hour, I'll tell you exactly where to station yourselves, give you the exact timing, the precise moment—it must be done tonight, away from the palace. But I need to be seen clear of suspicion. And him too—to leave no loose ends in the work—his son Fleance, who goes with him: his absence is as important to me as his father's. Both must embrace the fate of that dark hour. Go now and make up your minds. I'll find you soon.
You've got the guts for this. In an hour, I'll tell you exactly where to be, exactly when—it happens tonight, away from here. I need a clear alibi. And make sure Fleance dies too—Banquo's son. His death is just as important as his father's. You both die tonight. Go think it through. I'll catch up with you.
within this hour will advise where to plant acquaint with the moment must be done tonight something from palace i require clearness fleance his son must embrace the fate
We are resolv’d, my lord.
We're resolved, my lord.
We're ready, sir.
resolv'd my lord
I’ll call upon you straight: abide within.
I will call for you very soon: stay inside.
I'll call for you in a moment. Stay here.
ill call u soon stay here
It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul’s flight,
If it find heaven, must find it out tonight.
It is decided. Banquo, your soul's journey, if it finds heaven, must find it tonight.
It's settled. Banquo, your soul—if it's headed to heaven—has to get there tonight.
it's decided banquo your soul needs to find heaven tonight
The Reckoning
This is where Macbeth crosses the second threshold. Killing Duncan was an act of ambition carried out in horror. Killing Banquo is something colder: calculation. Macbeth reasons his way to murder with terrifying clarity: 'To be thus is nothing, / But to be safely thus.' He has the crown; that means nothing if the witches' promise that Banquo's descendants will be kings also comes true. So the man who helped him get here must die. The scene begins with Banquo's silent suspicion — he says it aloud only in soliloquy — and ends with Macbeth methodically briefing hired killers. The court scene in between is pure performance: Macbeth warmly pressing Banquo to come to the feast, all false warmth over planning murder. Lady Macbeth is nearly silent here, which registers: the partnership is already fraying.
If this happened today…
A CEO who got the top job through a hostile takeover discovers the former CFO — who knows everything — was promised the next CEO slot by the board. The new CEO can't fire him outright without scandal. So he has the CFO scheduled for a late-night drive, then meets with two freelancers in a side office. He's very calm. He's done the math.