Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Macbeth: Modern (Modern)
  • Editor: Anthony Dawson
  • Coordinating editor: Michael Best
  • Research assistant: Katie Davion
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-528-5

    Copyright Anthony Dawson. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Anthony Dawson
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Modern (Modern)

    Hautboys and torches. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus, and attendants.
    This castle hath a pleasant seat; 435the air
    Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
    Unto our gentle senses.
    This guest of summer,
    The temple-haunting martlet, does approve
    By his loved mansionry that the heavens' breath
    440Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze,
    Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird
    Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle.
    Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed
    The air is delicate.
    Enter Lady [Macbeth].
    See, see, our honored hostess. The love
    That follows us sometime is our trouble,
    Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you
    How you shall bid God 'ield us for your pains
    And thank us for your trouble.
    450Lady Macbeth
    All our service
    In every point twice done, and then done double,
    Were poor and single business to contend
    Against those honors, deep and broad, wherewith
    Your majesty loads our house. 455For those of old,
    And the late dignities heaped up to them,
    We rest your hermits.
    Where's the Thane of Cawdor?
    We coursed him at the heels and had a purpose
    To be his purveyor, but he rides well,
    460And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
    To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
    We are your guest tonight.
    Lady Macbeth
    Your servants ever
    Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs in count,
    465To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,
    Still to return your own.
    Give me your hand,
    Conduct me to mine host. We love him highly,
    And shall continue our graces towards him.
    470By your leave, hostess.