You know your own degrees, sit down. At first
And last the hearty welcome.
You know your ranks, sit down. From start to finish, you have my warmest welcome.
Everyone knows where they sit. Come on, take a seat—you're all welcome here.
sit down welcome to all
Thanks to your Majesty.
We thank you, your Majesty.
Thanks for having us, your Majesty.
thanks your majesty
Ourself will mingle with society,
And play the humble host.
Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time,
We will require her welcome.
I will mingle with the guests and play the humble host. My wife maintains her position as hostess, but when the moment is right, I will ask for her welcome.
I'm going to hang out with everyone and be a humble host. My wife's staying in her spot for now, but soon I'll need her to greet us.
i'll mix with guests be a humble host wife stays dignified will ask her to say hi
Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends;
For my heart speaks they are welcome.
Say it for me to everyone— that they're all welcome here, from my heart.
Tell everyone for me that they're truly welcome—that's what my heart says.
say they're welcome for me they're in my heart
See, they encounter thee with their hearts’ thanks.
Both sides are even: here I’ll sit i’ th’ midst.
Be large in mirth; anon we’ll drink a measure
The table round. There’s blood upon thy face.
See, they greet you with heartfelt thanks. We're evenly matched here: I'll sit in the middle. Be generous with your joy; soon we'll drink all around the table. There's blood on your face.
Look, they're thanking you from the heart. We're balanced out—I'll sit in the middle. Be fun and cheerful; soon we'll toast to everyone at the table. You've got blood on your face.
they thank u i'll sit in the middle let's have fun there's blood on u
’Tis Banquo’s then.
That is Banquo's then.
That's Banquo's blood then.
banquo's blood
’Tis better thee without than he within.
Is he dispatch’d?
It's better to have you here without him than to have him inside. Is he dead?
I'd rather have you here than him in there. Is he done for?
better without him is he dead?
My lord, his throat is cut. That I did for him.
My lord, I cut his throat. That's what I did for you.
My lord, the deed is done—he's gone. I did it for you.
his throat is cut did it for u
Thou art the best o’ th’ cut-throats;
Yet he’s good that did the like for Fleance:
If thou didst it, thou art the nonpareil.
You are the best of the assassins. But anyone who did the same to Fleance would be great too. If you killed Fleance, you'd be perfect.
You're the best killer I know. But anyone who got Fleance the same way would be amazing. If you killed Fleance, you'd be perfect.
you're the best hope u got fleance too then you'd be perfect
Most royal sir,
Fleance is ’scap’d.
Most royal sir, Fleance has escaped.
Your Majesty, Fleance got away.
fleance escaped
Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect;
Whole as the marble, founded as the rock,
As broad and general as the casing air:
But now I am cabin’d, cribb’d, confin’d, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo’s safe?
Then my panic returns: I would have been perfect otherwise, solid as marble, strong as rock, as vast and unlimited as the surrounding air. But now I am locked, cramped, confined, trapped in rash doubts and fears. But Banquo is definitely dead?
My anxiety's back: I would've been fine otherwise, solid as marble, strong as rock, as wide and free as the air all around. But now I'm trapped, boxed in, confined by these wild doubts and fears. But Banquo's definitely dead?
panic's back would've been perfect now i'm trapped in doubt and fear banquo's dead right?
Ay, my good lord. Safe in a ditch he bides,
With twenty trenched gashes on his head;
The least a death to nature.
Yes, my good lord. He lies safe in a ditch, with twenty deep cuts on his head; any one of them would be fatal.
Yes, my lord. He's lying in a ditch, with twenty deep wounds on his head; any one would kill a man.
he's in a ditch twenty deep cuts any one woulda killed him
Whether Banquo's ghost is 'real' — genuinely supernatural — or a hallucination produced by Macbeth's guilt is a question Shakespeare deliberately leaves open, and it matters for interpretation. In the Ghost of Hamlet's father, there is no ambiguity: the ghost is real, seen by multiple people, speaks, and carries verifiable information. Banquo's ghost is visible only to Macbeth. Lady Macbeth, who stands next to him, sees nothing. The lords see nothing. This could mean it is Macbeth's guilty imagination — a parallel to the floating dagger of 2-1. Or it could mean the ghost selectively reveals itself only to the man who killed him. Both readings work. In performance, directors have tried it both ways: some use an actor for the ghost, some have Macbeth addressing empty space. The production choice changes the meaning: with an actor, the audience shares Macbeth's vision and the supernatural is confirmed; without, we are watching a man in private psychological crisis before a public that cannot see what he sees.
Thanks for that.
There the grown serpent lies; the worm that’s fled
Hath nature that in time will venom breed,
No teeth for th’ present.—Get thee gone; tomorrow
We’ll hear, ourselves, again.
Thank you for that. There lies the adult snake; the young one that escaped has nature that will develop venom in time, but has no teeth now. Get out of here; tomorrow we'll meet again.
Thanks for that. The big snake is dead; the little one that got away will eventually develop poison, but it's harmless now. Get out of here; tomorrow we'll talk again.
dead snake little one got away will be dangerous later get out see u tomorrow
My royal lord,
You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold
That is not often vouch’d, while ’tis a-making,
’Tis given with welcome. To feed were best at home;
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.
The Ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth’s place.
My royal lord, you're not setting the tone for the feast. A feast is worth nothing if the host doesn't constantly encourage the guests while it's happening. It should be given with welcome. Eating alone at home would be better; from there, what makes food taste good is ceremony. A gathering without ceremony would be empty.
Your Majesty, you're not showing enthusiasm for this feast. A party is worthless if the host doesn't keep cheering people on while it's going. It needs to be done with genuine warmth. You could eat alone at home; what makes food special is ceremony and manners. A get-together without that would feel hollow.
you're not into this the feast needs your energy ceremony is what makes it work without it it's just eating
Sweet remembrancer!—
Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!
Sweet reminder! Now, may good digestion follow good appetite, and health to both!
Thanks for reminding me! May everyone have a good appetite and digestion, and good health to all!
good reminder hope everyone eats well and stays healthy
May’t please your Highness sit.
Would it please you to take a seat, your Highness?
Your Highness, please take a seat.
sit down
Here had we now our country’s honour roof’d,
Were the grac’d person of our Banquo present;
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness
Than pity for mischance!
We would now have all our country's honor in this room, if the distinguished Banquo were present. I would rather blame him for rudeness than pity him for misfortune!
We'd have everyone important here if Banquo had shown up. I'd rather be angry at him for being rude than feel sorry for what might've happened to him!
we'd have everyone here if banquo came i'm mad at him for not showing not worried about him
His absence, sir,
Lays blame upon his promise. Please’t your Highness
To grace us with your royal company?
His absence, sir, breaks his promise to you. Please, your Highness, honor us with your company?
His absence breaks his word to you. Your Highness, will you grace us with your presence?
he broke his promise stay with us
The table’s full.
The table’s full.
the table’s full.
the table’s full.
Here is a place reserv’d, sir.
There is a seat reserved for you, sir.
There's a seat saved for you, sir.
seat's ready for u
Where?
Where?
where?
where?
Here, my good lord. What is’t that moves your Highness?
Here, my good lord. What is upsetting you, your Highness?
Here, my lord. What's bothering you, your Highness?
here what's wrong?
Which of you have done this?
Which of you did this?
Who's responsible for this?
who did this
What, my good lord?
I don't understand, my good lord. What do you mean?
What, my lord?
what?
Thou canst not say I did it. Never shake
Thy gory locks at me.
You cannot say I did it. Never shake your bloody hair at me.
You can't say I did it. Don't you dare shake your bloody head at me.
you can't blame me stop shaking that blood at me
Gentlemen, rise; his Highness is not well.
Gentlemen, stand up; his Highness is unwell.
Gentlemen, stand up; the king isn't feeling well.
everyone up he's sick
The banquet is a political as well as psychological event. In the early modern period, the royal feast was one of the central rituals of legitimate kingship — a demonstration of the king's abundance, hospitality, and command. To host a feast was to perform sovereignty. Macbeth's collapse at the table is therefore not merely personal but political: it is the visible failure of the performance of kingship. The lords witness something they cannot explain; Lady Macbeth cannot fully suppress it; the feast is cut short. In 3-6 we learn that Lennox and others are already drawing conclusions. The banquet scene is where Macbeth's private guilt first becomes publicly legible, even if the lords cannot name exactly what they are seeing.
Sit, worthy friends. My lord is often thus,
And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat;
The fit is momentary; upon a thought
He will again be well. If much you note him,
You shall offend him, and extend his passion.
Feed, and regard him not.—Are you a man?
Stay seated, worthy friends. My lord is often like this, and has been since his youth: please, keep your seats. The fit will pass; in a moment he will be fine again. If you pay too much attention to him, you will offend him and make it worse. Eat, and ignore him. Are you a man?
Everyone sit down, friends. My husband is like this a lot— it's been happening since he was young. Please stay. It'll pass soon; he'll snap out of it. If you stare at him, you'll upset him and make it worse. Just eat and leave him alone. Are you even a man?
sit down he's like this all the time it'll pass don't watch him or he'll get worse eat and ignore him are u a man?
Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
Which might appal the devil.
Yes, and a bold one, who dares look at something that might terrify the devil itself.
Yes, and a brave one too—I can look at things that would scare the devil.
yeah i'm brave i can look at anything even scary stuff
O proper stuff!
This is the very painting of your fear:
This is the air-drawn dagger which you said,
Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws, and starts
(Impostors to true fear), would well become
A woman’s story at a winter’s fire,
Authoris’d by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do you make such faces? When all’s done,
You look but on a stool.
What nonsense! This is just a picture of your fear. This is the imaginary dagger you claimed led you to Duncan. These nervous outbursts (fake fear), would fit well in a woman's story told by a fire at winter, told as if by her grandmother. Shame on you! Why do you make such faces? When it's all said and done, you're just looking at a stool.
What a load of garbage! This is just your fear playing tricks on you. This is the pretend dagger you said led you to Duncan. These panic attacks are just fake fear—they'd fit right into a ghost story some old woman tells by the fire in winter. You should be ashamed! Why are you making those faces? In the end, you're just staring at a chair.
that's bullshit you're imagining things like the fake dagger before this is fake fear it's just a stool stop acting like a scared kid
Pr’ythee, see there!
Behold! look! lo! how say you?
Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.—
If charnel houses and our graves must send
Those that we bury back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.
Please, look there! Look! Look! What do you say? Why should I care? If you can nod, speak too. If the burial vaults and our graves must send back those we bury, then our monuments will become the bellies of birds.
Look there! Just look! What do you say? Why should I care? If you can nod, say something. If the dead come back from our graves, then our monuments will just be bird guts.
look what do u think? if the dead come back our graves mean nothing monuments become bird shit
What, quite unmann’d in folly?
What, completely unmanned by foolishness?
Have you completely lost your nerve?
lost ur nerve?
If I stand here, I saw him.
If I'm standing here, I saw him.
I'm telling you, I saw him.
i saw him
Fie, for shame!
How shameful!
Snap out of it!
seriously
Blood hath been shed ere now, i’ th’ olden time,
Ere humane statute purg’d the gentle weal;
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform’d
Too terrible for the ear: the time has been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end; but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools. This is more strange
Than such a murder is.
Blood has been shed before, in ancient times, before laws made society more gentle. Yes, and since then too, murders have been committed too terrible to even speak about. There was a time when a man died once you killed him, and that was the end of it. But now they rise again, with twenty deadly wounds on their heads, and push us from our seats. This is stranger than a simple murder is.
Blood has been spilled before, way back when, before laws made society civilized. And yeah, murders still happen— horrible ones we can't even talk about. There was a time when you killed someone and that was it, they stayed dead. But now they come back, with twenty wounds on them, and they shove us off our chairs. This is weirder than just killing someone.
blood's been shed before old murders happened but when u killed someone they stayed dead now they come back with their wounds and push us around that's really weird
My worthy lord,
Your noble friends do lack you.
My worthy lord, your noble friends miss you.
My lord, your friends need you back.
your friends miss u
I do forget.—
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends.
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
Then I’ll sit down.—Give me some wine, fill full.—
I drink to the general joy o’ th’ whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss:
Would he were here.
Ghost rises again.
To all, and him, we thirst,
And all to all.
I forgot myself. Don't stare at me, my worthy friends. I have a strange condition, which is nothing to those who know me. Come, love and health to everyone. Then I'll sit down. Give me wine, fill it up. I toast to the joy of this whole table, and to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss. If only he were here. To all of you and to him, we raise our glasses, and to all of us.
I got distracted. Don't worry about me, friends. I have a strange thing, which nobody who knows me thinks is weird. Come on, love and health to everyone. Now I'll sit. Get me some wine, pour it up. I'm toasting to everyone's happiness, and to our good friend Banquo, who we miss. Wish he was here. To all of you and to him, we raise our glasses, to all of us.
lost my head don't worry i'm fine toast to everyone and banquo we miss him wish he was here to all of us
Our duties, and the pledge.
Our duties to you, and we drink to your health.
We're loyal to you, and we drink to that.
to our duties and u
Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with!
Get away! Leave my sight! Let the earth hide you! Your bones have no marrow, your blood is cold. There's no life in those eyes that are staring at me!
Get away! Get out of my sight! Let the earth swallow you! Your bones are empty, your blood is frozen. There's nothing alive in those eyes that are glaring at me!
get away get out you're dead no life in those eyes
Think of this, good peers,
But as a thing of custom: ’tis no other,
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
Think of this, good lords, as just a usual occurrence. It's nothing else— it only ruins the pleasure of the evening.
Think of this, gentlemen, as just a normal thing. It's nothing more than that— it just ruins the party.
it's just a thing that happens nothing serious just ruins the mood
What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm’d rhinoceros, or th’ Hyrcan tiger;
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: or be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhabit then, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mock’ry, hence!
Whatever any man dares, I dare: Come at me like a rough Russian bear, an armed rhinoceros, or a Hyrcanian tiger. Take any form but that, and my strong nerves will never shake. Or come alive again, and challenge me to single combat in the desert. If I tremble then, call me less than a baby girl. Get out, horrible ghost! Fake illusion, get out!
I'll do whatever any man would do. Attack me like a wild Russian bear, a deadly rhinoceros, or a fierce tiger. Be anything but what you are, and I won't flinch. Or come back to life and fight me one-on-one in the desert. If I shake then, say I'm worse than a baby girl. Get lost, creepy ghost! Fake vision, get out of here!
i'll do whatever come at me any way u want i won't be scared come back to life and fight me if i flinch call me a baby get out fake ghost
Lady Macbeth spends the banquet scene performing an extraordinary feat of emotional labor: managing Macbeth's breakdown, explaining it to the lords, maintaining social order, and trying to recall Macbeth to himself in urgent whispered asides — all simultaneously. She succeeds in getting the guests out. But she cannot undo what they have seen. The scene also reveals the limits of her power over Macbeth. In Acts 1-2 she could direct him; she could manipulate his ambition, correct his hesitation, organize the aftermath. Now, when she whispers 'You have displaced the mirth,' he barely hears her. The ghost is more present to him than she is. Her management fails not because it is bad management, but because the thing she is trying to manage — Macbeth's guilt made visible — is beyond anyone's control.
Why, so;—being gone,
I am a man again.—Pray you, sit still.
There then, now that it is gone, I am a man again. I ask you, remain seated.
Good, it's gone—now I'm back to being myself. Everyone, please stay sitting.
ok it's gone now i'm myself stay seated
You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting
With most admir’d disorder.
You have destroyed the joy, ruined this good gathering with shocking chaos.
You've killed the fun and ruined this nice party with absolutely crazy behavior.
you ruined it killed the fun with ur crazy shit
Can such things be,
And overcome us like a summer’s cloud,
Without our special wonder? You make me strange
Even to the disposition that I owe,
When now I think you can behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
When mine are blanch’d with fear.
Can such things happen, and overwhelm us like a summer cloud, without amazing us deeply? You make me feel strange, even uncomfortable with my own nature, when I realize you can see such sights and keep your rosy cheeks, while mine are pale with fear.
Can things like this really happen, and just sweep over us like a summer cloud, without shocking us? You're making me feel weird, even weird with who I am, when I see that you can watch this stuff and stay calm, your face still rosy, while mine is white with terror.
this is crazy it just happens like a cloud u stay calm and rosy i'm white with fear what's wrong with me
What sights, my lord?
What do you mean by sights, my lord?
What are you talking about, my lord?
what sights?
I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse;
Question enrages him. At once, good night:—
Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once.
I ask you, don't speak. He's getting worse. Asking questions makes him angry. Goodbye now. Don't worry about the order of leaving— just go right now.
Please don't talk. He's getting worse. Questioning him makes him furious. Good night. Don't worry about who leaves first— just get out now.
don't talk he's getting worse questions make him mad leave now in any order
Good night; and better health
Attend his Majesty!
Good night, and may better health come to his Majesty!
Good night, and I hope the king feels better soon!
good night hope he feels better
A kind good night to all!
I wish you all a good night!
A good night to everyone!
good night everyone
It will have blood, they say, blood will have blood.
Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak;
Augurs, and understood relations, have
By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth
The secret’st man of blood.—What is the night?
Murder demands murder, they say, blood calls for blood. Stones have been seen to move, and trees to speak. Augurs, and signs that are understood, have through magpies, jackdaws, and crows, revealed the most hidden murderers. What time of night is it?
Murders lead to more murder, they say—blood pays back in blood. Stones have been known to move, trees have spoken. Augurs and signs through magpies, jackdaws, and crows have shown even the most secret killers. What time is it?
murder pays with murder blood for blood birds reveal murderers what time is it?
Almost at odds with morning, which is which.
Almost between night and morning—it's hard to tell which is which.
Almost dawn—night and day are mixing together.
almost morning can't tell night from day
How say’st thou, that Macduff denies his person
At our great bidding?
What do you think—that Macduff refuses to come when I call for him?
What do you make of Macduff ignoring my summons?
macduff's ignoring me why won't he come?
Did you send to him, sir?
Did you send for him, sir?
Did you send someone to get him?
u sent for him?
I hear it by the way; but I will send.
There’s not a one of them but in his house
I keep a servant fee’d. I will tomorrow
(And betimes I will) to the Weird Sisters:
More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good,
All causes shall give way: I am in blood
Stepp’d in so far that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o’er.
Strange things I have in head, that will to hand,
Which must be acted ere they may be scann’d.
I heard it indirectly, but I will send for him. There's no one among them but has a paid servant of mine in his house. I will go tomorrow (and early) to the Weird Sisters. They will tell me more. I'm determined now to know the worst by the worst means. For my own benefit, I will sacrifice everything. I've waded so far into blood that going back would be as hard as going forward. I have strange plans forming that must become actions, which must be done before they can be examined.
I heard it through people, but I'll send for him. Everyone I care about has one of my spies working in their house. I'm going tomorrow (early) to the Weird Sisters. They'll tell me more. I'm determined to know the worst by whatever means it takes. For myself, I'll abandon everything else. I'm so deep in blood that turning back would be just as hard as going on. I have wild ideas brewing that need to become real, things that have to happen before anyone can stop them.
heard it through the grapevine i'll send for him i have spies everywhere going to see the witches tomorrow will get the worst info i'm in too deep no turning back gotta do these things now
You lack the season of all natures, sleep.
You lack sleep, which heals all living things.
You need sleep—it's what heals everything.
u need sleep
Come, we’ll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear that wants hard use.
We are yet but young in deed.
Come, let's go to sleep. My strange self-deception is the beginning fear that needs to be pushed through. We are still new to this.
Come on, let's go to bed. My strange delusions are just fear at the start that needs to be faced. We're still new at this.
let's sleep my fear is just the start we're new at this
The Reckoning
The banquet scene is the play's social catastrophe — the moment the public performance of kingship collapses. Macbeth has been managing two registers: king in public, murderer in private. Here the private erupts into the public in a way that cannot be explained away. The ghost of Banquo is visible only to Macbeth — the assembled lords see only their king losing his mind, raving at an empty chair. Lady Macbeth spends the whole scene performing competent damage control: 'He has a disorder — do not pay attention — please, go — good night.' It is her last great moment of management, and it fails. When the guests are gone and the two of them are alone, Macbeth says the play's most important line about himself: 'I am in blood / Stepped in so far that, should I wade no more, / Returning were as tedious as go o'er.' He is no longer trying to stop. He has made peace with the direction he is going.
If this happened today…
A CEO's gala dinner for the board. He's just heard from his security chief that the rival is dead but the key witness escaped. Then he starts seeing the rival's face everywhere — staring at him from his own seat at the head of the table. His wife smoothly invents a medical excuse, whispers urgently, covers. The board looks at each other. Everyone drives home knowing something is very wrong at the top.