Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.
Why, how are you, Hecate? You look angry.
Hecate, what's wrong? You seem really mad.
hecate what's wrong you're angry
Have I not reason, beldams as you are,
Saucy and overbold? How did you dare
To trade and traffic with Macbeth
In riddles and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call’d to bear my part,
Or show the glory of our art?
And, which is worse, all you have done
Hath been but for a wayward son,
Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now: get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron
Meet me i’ th’ morning: thither he
Will come to know his destiny.
Your vessels and your spells provide,
Your charms, and everything beside.
I am for th’ air; this night I’ll spend
Unto a dismal and a fatal end.
Great business must be wrought ere noon.
Upon the corner of the moon
There hangs a vap’rous drop profound;
I’ll catch it ere it come to ground:
And that, distill’d by magic sleights,
Shall raise such artificial sprites,
As, by the strength of their illusion,
Shall draw him on to his confusion.
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
His hopes ’bove wisdom, grace, and fear.
And you all know, security
Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.
Don't I have reason to be angry, you old hags as you are, so rude and too bold? How did you dare to make deals with Macbeth in mysterious predictions and matters of death, when I, the leader of your spells, the secret creator of all harm, was never asked to take my part, or show the skill of our craft? And worse yet, everything you have done has been only for a stubborn son, mean and angry; who, like others, loves for his own purposes, not for you. But make it right now: go away, and at the pit of Acheron meet me in the morning: he will come there to learn his fate. Bring your containers and your spells, your charms and everything else. I'm heading to the air; tonight I will spend working toward a terrible and fatal result. Great work must be done before noon. On the edge of the moon there hangs a mysterious drop of vapor; I'll catch it before it falls to earth, and that, refined through magic methods, will raise such unreal spirits, that through the power of their illusion, will lead him to his ruin. He will reject fate, mock death, and hold his hopes above wisdom, mercy, and fear. And you all know that safety is the greatest enemy of mortals.
Don't you see why I'm mad, you old witches? You're so rude and way too bold. How could you make deals with Macbeth about prophecies and death when I'm the leader of all your magic, the secret master of all harm, and you never even asked me to help or let me show what I can do? And the worst part is, everything you did was for some moody guy who's bitter and angry, and like everyone else, only cares about himself, not you. But fix it now: get out of here, and meet me at Acheron tomorrow morning. He'll come there to learn what happens next. Bring your bottles and spells, your magic and whatever else you need. I'm going up into the air; tonight I'll work on something dark and terrible. I've got big plans before noon. There's a magical drop hanging from the edge of the moon. I'll grab it before it hits the ground, and once I process it with magic, it will create fake spirits that can trick him so badly he'll end up destroying himself. He'll laugh at fate, ignore death, and let his dreams rise above common sense, mercy, and caution. And you all know that confidence is what kills humans most.
why'd u deal with macbeth without me i'm the leader of your magic i wasn't asked to help worst part he only cares about himself fix it meet me at acheron tomorrow i'll catch a drop from the moon use magic on it it'll fool him he'll destroy himself confidence kills
Scene 3-5 is widely believed by scholars to be non-Shakespearean in origin — most likely an addition by Thomas Middleton, who revised Macbeth sometime between 1606 and 1616 for the King's Men. The evidence is partly stylistic: the scene uses rhyming tetrameter throughout, in a pattern more consistent with Middleton's 'The Witch' (c.1613) than with Shakespeare's dramatic verse. The songs Hecate references — 'Come away, come away' and 'Black spirits' — appear in Middleton's play with full text, suggesting they were interpolated from his work into Macbeth. The scene also adds nothing dramatically that the play requires: we already know the witches will give Macbeth further prophecy, and Hecate's explanation of the trap is somewhat redundant with the dramatic irony already built into the structure. Most contemporary editions include it with a scholarly note on its probable authorship. The First Folio (1623) prints it without attribution. For performance purposes it often works: the operatic quality of Hecate's speech, and the explicit naming of 'security' as the trap, can heighten the dramatic irony of Act 4.
Hark! I am call’d; my little spirit, see,
Sits in a foggy cloud and stays for me.
Listen! I am being called; my little spirit, see, sits in a foggy cloud and waits for me.
Listen! Someone's calling me; my little spirit is waiting for me in that foggy cloud.
listen im being called my spirit's waiting in the fog
Come, let’s make haste; she’ll soon be back again.
Come, let's hurry; she will return soon.
Let's go, we need to move fast. She'll be back soon.
let's go fast she's coming back
The Reckoning
A brief, tonally odd scene. Hecate speaks in tetrameter (four-beat lines) rather than the blank verse of the rest of the play, and her rebuke has a somewhat formal, almost operatic quality that feels different from the witches' previous scenes. She announces that she will manufacture prophecies designed to make Macbeth feel invincible — and that his overconfidence will destroy him. The scene functions as a spoiler for Act 4: we are told the mechanism of Macbeth's destruction before he walks into it. Hecate's line 'He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear / His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear' — describes exactly what Macbeth does after the witches' second prophecies.
If this happened today…
The senior partner of a firm finds out that two junior associates have been running an off-the-books client engagement. She's not angry that they're doing something morally questionable — she's angry they cut her out. Now she's going to handle it herself, and her plan is more sophisticated: give the client exactly what he wants to hear, and let his own hubris be the trap.