Literature Quiz / Macbeth Quotes Act I

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QUIZ: Can you name the Macbeth Quotes Act I

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QuoteSpoken By and To
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.
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, Without my stir.
He’s here in double trust: First, as I am his kinsman and subject, Strong both against the deed; then as his host, Who should against his murderers shut the door, Not bear the kn
Bring forth men-children only. For thy undaunted mettle should compose Nothing but males.
And, for an earnest of a greater honour, He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: 210 In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! For it is thine.
No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest. Go, pronounce his present death, And with his former title greet Macbeth.
We will proceed no further in this business. He hath honored me of late, and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o’ th’ milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way.
Sons, kinsman, thanes, And you whose places are nearest, know We will establish our estate upon Our eldest, Malcom, whom we name hereafter The Prince of Cumberland.
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 blo
QuoteSpoken By and To
Give me your hand. Conduct me to mine host. We love him highly And shall continue our graces towards him. By your leave hostess.
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.
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…
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
The Prince of Cumberland! That is a step On which I must fall down or else o’erleap, For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.
To beguile the time, Look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue. Look like th’ innocent flower But be the serpent under ‘t.
What are these So wither'd and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught That man may question?
Fair is foul, and foul is fair, Hover through the fog and filthy air.
Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the insane root That takes the reason prisoner?

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