HEADING

Act I Scene III
Macbeth Soliloquy

1. MAKE TEN CONNECTIONS TO EXCERPT USING COMMENT BOXES. LABEL THE COMMENT BOX “CONNECTIONS.”

2. ASK FIVE QUESTIONS OF THE EXCERPT. Do this by typing the question in green next to the text.

3. HIGHLIGHT TEN VOCABULARY WORDS YOU DON’T KNOW IN YELLOW.

4. INFER THE MEANING OF THE VOCABULARY WORDS. Type your inference in red at the end of the line the word is found in.

5. DEFINE THE VOCABULARY WORDS. Type the definition in blue at the end of the line after the inference.

6. HIGHLIGHT THREE QUOTES THAT REVEAL CHARACTERIZATION IN TURQOISE.

7. Type what is revealed about the character in purple at the end of the line.

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]
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	The king hath happily received, 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: silenced with that, In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day, He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, Strange images of death. As thick as hail Came post with post; and every one did bear Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, And pour'd them down before him.
ANGUS	We are sent To give thee from our royal master thanks; Only to herald thee into his sight, Not pay thee.
ROSS	And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! For it is thine.
BANQUO	What, can the devil speak true?
MACBETH	The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me In borrow'd robes?
ANGUS	Who was the thane lives yet; But under heavy judgment bears that life Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined With those of Norway, or did line the rebel With hidden help and vantage, or that with both He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, Have overthrown him.
MACBETH	[Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor! The greatest is behind.
	[To ROSS and ANGUS]
	Thanks for your pains.
	[To BANQUO]
	Do you not hope your children shall be kings, When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me Promised no less to them?
BANQUO	That trusted home Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray's In deepest consequence. Cousins, a word, I pray you.
MACBETH	[Aside] Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen.
	[Aside] This supernatural soliciting Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, Why hath it given me earnest of success, Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings: My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man that function Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is But what is not.
BANQUO	Look, how our partner's rapt.
MACBETH	[Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, Without my stir.
BANQUO	New horrors come upon him, Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould But with the aid of use.
MACBETH	[Aside] Come what come may, Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.