Macbeth The Power of Words Worksheet Choose one of the provided scenes from Macbeth that you have previously studied in this course and locate or create an

Macbeth The Power of Words Worksheet Choose one of the provided scenes from Macbeth that you have previously studied in this course and locate or create an image that shows a fitting setting for that scene. This should be a background or backdrop appropriate for the scene to take place in.In a response of at least five sentences (75-100 words), explain why you chose the image. Use examples from the play and the image to support your reasoning. Include the scene and the image along with your response. Be sure to cite the relevant lines of the play to support your answer. 01.10 Scenes
1. ACT I, Scene V
LADY MACBETH
“They met me in the day of success; and I have learned by the perfectest
report they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in
desire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they
vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the
king, who all-hailed me, ‘Thane of Cawdor’; by which title, before, these
weird sisters saluted me, and referred me to the coming on of time, with
‘Hail, king that shalt be!’ This have I thought good to deliver thee, my
dearest partner of greatness; that thou mightst not lose the dues of
rejoicing, by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy
heart, and farewell.”
LADY MACBETH
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be
What thou art promis’d; yet do I fear thy nature;
It is too full o’ the milk of human kindness
To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great;
Art not without ambition; but without
The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou’dst have, great Glamis,
That which cries, “Thus thou must do, if thou have it:
And that which rather thou dost fear to do
Than wishest should be undone.” Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valor of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown’d withal.
The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts,
And take my milk for gall, your murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark
To cry, “Hold, hold!”
[Enter Macbeth.]
LADY MACBETH
Great Glamis! Worthy Cawdor!
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present, and I feel now
The future in the instant.
MACBETH.
My dearest love,
Duncan comes here tonight.
LADY MACBETH.
And when goes hence?
MACBETH.
To-morrow, — as he purposes.
LADY MACBETH.
O, never
Shall sun that morrow see!
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
May read strange matters: — to beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under’t. He that’s coming
Must be provided for: and you shall put
This night’s great business into my despatch;
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
MACBETH.
We will speak further.
LADY MACBETH.
Only look up clear;
To alter favor ever is to fear:
Leave all the rest to me.
2. ACT I, Scene VII
MACBETH
If it were done when ’tis done, then ’twere well
It were done quickly. If the assassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch,
With his surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all — here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, —
We’d jump the life to come. But in these cases
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which being taught, return
To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison’d chalice
To our own lips. He’s here in double trust:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed: then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off:
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven’s cherubin, hors’d
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That tears shall drown the wind. — I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself,
And falls on the other.
[Enter Lady Macbeth.]
MACBETH
How now! what news?
LADY MACBETH.
He has almost supp’d: why have you left the chamber?
MACBETH.
Hath he ask’d for me?
LADY MACBETH.
Know you not he has?
MACBETH.
We will proceed no further in this business:
He hath honour’d me of late; and I have bought
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.
LADY MACBETH.
Was the hope drunk
Wherein you dress’d yourself? hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valor
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem’st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem;
Letting “I dare not” wait upon “I would,”
Like the poor cat i’ the adage?
MACBETH.
Pr’ythee, peace!
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none.
LADY MACBETH.
What beast was’t, then,
That made you break this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both:
They have made themselves, and that their fitness now
Does unmake you.
MACBETH.
If we should fail?
LADY MACBETH.
We fail!
But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
And we’ll not fail…
3.ACT II, Scene I
MACBETH
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee: —
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshall’st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o’ the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. — There’s no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes. — Now o’er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain’d sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
[A bell rings.]
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven or to hell.
4. ACT II, Scene II
MACBETH.
I’ll go no more:
I am afraid to think what I have done;
Look on’t again I dare not.
LADY MACBETH.
Infirm of purpose!
Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures: ’tis the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I’ll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt.
[Exit. Knocking within.]
MACBETH.
Whence is that knocking?
How is’t with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here? Ha, they pluck out mine eyes!
Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.
[Re-enter Lady Macbeth.]
LADY MACBETH.
My hands are of your color, but I shame
To wear a heart so white. [Knocking within.] I hear knocking
At the south entry: — retire we to our chamber.
A little water clears us of this deed:
How easy is it then! Your constancy
Hath left you unattended. — [Knocking within.] Hark, more
knocking:
Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us
And show us to be watchers: — be not lost
So poorly in your thoughts.
MACBETH.
To know my deed, ’twere best not know myself. [Knocking within.]
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst!
[Exeunt.]
5. ACT V, Scene I
LADY MACBETH.
Yet here’s a spot.
DOCTOR.
Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my
remembrance the more strongly.
LADY MACBETH.
Out, damned spot! out, I say! — One; two; why, then ’tis time to do’t ; —
Hell is murky! — Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear
who knows it, when none can call our power to account? — Yet who would
have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?
DOCTOR.
Do you mark that?
LADY MACBETH.
The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? — What, will these hands
ne’er be clean? No more o’ that, my lord, no more o’ that: you mar all with
this starting.
DOCTOR. This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those
which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in their beds.
LADY MACBETH. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so
pale: — I tell you yet again, Banquo’s buried; he cannot come out on’s
grave.
DOCTOR.
Even so?
LADY MACBETH. To bed, to bed; there’s knocking at the gate: come,
come, come, come, give me your hand: what’s done cannot be undone: to
bed, to bed, to bed.
[Exit.]
6. ACT V, Scene V
MACBETH.
I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
The time has been, my senses would have cool’d
To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
As life were in’t: I have supp’d full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaught’rous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.
[Re-enter Seyton.]
Wherefore was that cry?
SEYTON.
The queen, my lord, is dead.
MACBETH.
She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word. —
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
[Enter a Messenger.]
Thou com’st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
MESSENGER.
Gracious my lord,
I should report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to do it.
MACBETH.
Well, say, sir.
MESSENGER.
As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
I look’d toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.
MACBETH.
Liar, and slave!
[Striking him.]
MESSENGER.
Let me endure your wrath, if’t be not so.
Within this three mile may you see it coming;
I say, a moving grove.
MACBETH.
If thou speak’st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
I care not if thou dost for me as much. —
I pull in resolution; and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
That lies like truth. “Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane;” and now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane. — Arm, arm, and out! —
If this which he avouches does appear,
There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.
I ‘gin to be a-weary of the sun,
And wish the estate o’ the world were now undone. —
Ring the alarum bell! — Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At least we’ll die with harness on our back.
[Exeunt.]
7. ACT V, Scene VII
MACBETH.
Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes
Do better upon them.
[Enter Macduff.]
MACDUFF.
Turn, hell-hound, turn!
MACBETH.
Of all men else I have avoided thee:
But get thee back; my soul is too much charg’d
With blood of thine already.
MACDUFF.
I have no words, —
My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!
[They fight.]
MACBETH.
Thou losest labour:
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.
MACDUFF.
Despair thy charm;
And let the angel whom thou still hast serv’d
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s womb
Untimely ripp’d.
MACBETH.
Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cow’d my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believ’d,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope! — I’ll not fight with thee.
MACDUFF.
Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o’ the time:
We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit,
“Here may you see the tyrant.”
MACBETH.
I will not yield,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet,
And to be baited with the rabble’s curse.
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou oppos’d, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last. Before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”
8. ACT I, Scene II
[Army camp near Forres. Alarum within. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm,
Donalbain, Lennox, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Soldier.]
DUNCAN.
What bloody man is that? He can report,
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
The newest state.
MALCOLM.
This is the sergeant
Who, like a good and hardy soldier, fought
‘Gainst my captivity. — Hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil
As thou didst leave it.
SOLDIER.
Doubtful it stood;
As two spent swimmers that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald, —
Worthy to be a rebel, — for to that
The multiplying villainies of nature
Do swarm upon him, — from the Western isles
Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show’d like a rebel’s whore. But all’s too weak;
For brave Macbeth, — well he deserves that name, —
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish’d steel,
Which smok’d with bloody execution,
Like valor’s minion, Carv’d out his passage
Till he fac’d the slave;
And ne’er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam’d him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix’d his head upon our battlements.
DUNCAN.
O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
SOLDIER.
As whence the sun ‘gins his reflection
Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break;
So from that spring, whence comfort seem’d to come
Discomfort swells. Mark, King of Scotland, mark:
No sooner justice had, with valor arm’d,
Compell’d these skipping kerns to trust their heels,
But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage,
With furbish’d arms and new supplies of men,
Began a fresh assault.
DUNCAN.
Dismay’d not this
Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
SOLDIER.
Yes;
As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion:
If I say sooth, I must report they were
As cannons overcharg’d with double cracks;
So they
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha,
I cannot tell: —
But I am faint; my gashes cry for help.
9. ACT I, Scene III
Macbeth and Banquo discuss the weird sisters and their strange
predictions.
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 receiv’d, 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: silenc’d with that,
In viewing o’er the rest o’ the self-same 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 defense,
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 honor,
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 judgement bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combin’d
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. — Thanks for your pains. —
Do you not hope your children shall be kings,
When those that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me
Promis’d 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. —
10. ACT II
MACDUFF.
Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon: — do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak yourselves.
[Exeunt Macbeth and Lennox.]
Awake, awake! —
Ring the alarum bell: — murder and treason!
Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death’s counterfeit,
And look on death itself! up, up, and see
The great doom’s image! Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites
To countenance(see for yourselves) this horror!
[Alarum-bell rings.]
[Re-enter Lady Macbeth.]
LADY MACBETH.
What’s the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!
MACDUFF.
O gentle lady,
‘Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
The repetition, in a woman’s ear,
Would murder as it fell.
[Re-enter Banquo.]
O Banquo, Banquo!
Our royal master’s murder’d!
LADY MACBETH.
Woe, alas!
What, in our house?
BANQUO.
Too cruel any where. —
Dear Duff, I pr’ythee, contradict thyself,
And say it is not so.
[Re-enter Macbeth and Lennox, with Ross.]
MACBETH.
Had I but died an hour before this chance,
I had liv’d a blessed time; for, from this instant
There’s nothing serious in mortality:
All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.
[Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain.]
MALCOLM.
What will you do? Let’s not consort with them:
To show an unfelt sorrow is an office
Which the false man does easy. I’ll to England.
DONALBAIN.
To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
Shall keep us both the safer: where we are,
There’s daggers in men’s smiles: the near in blood,
The nearer bloody.
MALCOLM.
This murderous shaft that’s shot
Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is to avoid the aim. Therefore to horse;
And let us not be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away: there’s warrant in that theft
Which steals itself, when there’s no mercy left.
11. ACT III, Scene II
Macbeth becomes paranoid about Banquo — he knows too much about
the weird sisters’ prediction. Macbeth also worries that the weird sisters’
promise that Banquo will be the father of kings is a threat to his crown. He
decides to remedy the situation. In this scene he reveals his plan to Lady
Macbeth.
LADY MACBETH.
Naught’s had, all’s spent,
Where our desire is got without content:
‘Tis safer to be that which we destroy,
Than, by destruction, dwell in doubtful joy.
[Enter Macbeth.]
How now, my lord! why do you keep alone,
Of sorriest fancies your companions making;
Using those thoughts which should indeed have died
With them they think on? Things without all remedy
Should be without regard: what’s done is done.
MACBETH.
We have scotch’d the snake, not kill’d it;
She’ll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let the frame of things …
Purchase answer to see full
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