Macbeth's Plea
My Beloved Witches,
Hello my three dearest ladies. I am very
privileged by your statement the other day, and yet very blissful. I thank you
for these statements in which I have taken as a compliment, acknowledging that
I am high quality and brilliant enough to rule. Of course it would be to my
delight if these statements come true. Honestly, I must see that they come
true, no matter what it takes. One of your predictions has already come true I
have become the Thane of Cawdor, but now I request something further, I must be
king. I know I will be king, because you have predicted it.
Now I seek for your advice, what shall I do my
fair ladies? I have a couple of ideas in mind. Shall I kill the king and help
my succession? Or shall I wait patiently for my turn in line, which could be
never, not that I don't believe in you, I most certainly put all my trust upon
you ladies, but anything is possible. I have told my darling wife this
situation, and she recommends that I kill the king and his son Malcolm whom has
been, to my displeasure, declared Prince of Cumberland by the king. Then blame
this murder on the guards, who would be put asleep. With their swords covered with the
king's red and royal blood, they will be blamed yet I would not be suspected.
Please give me your advice, for I seek it badly. Help me succeed my lovely
ladies, help me… become king. Once again I thank you gracefully and will wait
patiently for your reply my ladies.
Signed,
Macbeth Thane of Cawdor
Witches'
Reply
Our Lord Macbeth,
Macbeth, king you
shall be. Don't be rushed for the day will come when you get the crown when the
king goes down. Listen to us, you will not, that we know but warn you we must.
Rush if you want, but revenge will hunt. Blood may drip on guarding swords, but
blood shall drip within your heart. Your lady smart she sure is, but into the
night sleep is dangerous. Secrets kept well in bright light, but in the dark
things spread without the light.
Prince of Cumberland,
the son of the king's, shall go on with life, while you lie there still.
Advices we shall give you three. Chant we shall when the brew is on boil,
"double, double, toil and trouble." First beware of Macduff, we shall warn you.
Second, none of woman borne will hurt you my lord, don't think you'll never
bare a wound. Last yet third, Macbeth shall be king until Birnam Wood come to
Dunsinane hill. Even with advices you shall listen to none, for you will is too
strong yet ambitious. Thinking you'll win the entire game, yet not knowing with
you, this game will lose its fame. Think my lord is thou worth it? No out
answer is, but yours is totally different. May luck be with you King Macbeth,
All Hail! All Hail! All Hail King Macbeth! Turn back, and wait, for now you're
life is not much be hide you, go any farther and hopeless you are.
Gracefully,
The
Witches
