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Macbeth: *damns the witches and anyone who has trusted them*

The witches:

Scotland: Babe come over

Malcolm: I can’t I’m in England

Scotland: Macbeth is in power

Malcolm:

Macbeth: Good thing the forest isn’t moving

Seyton: Sir the forest is moving

Macbeth:

Macbeth, longingly staring into the forest off his castle balcony:

Lady Macduff: How wilt thou do for a father?

Son: Nay, how will you do for a husband?

Duncan: *dies*

Macbeth, looking at Dunsinane castle:

Macduff: *banging on door*

The porter, drunk:

A murderer: What, you egg?

Me, an intellectual: Pardon, thou chicken offspring

#macbeththeplay