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Modern English
What bloody man is that? He can report, As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt The newest state.
Who is that bloody man? He looks like he can tell us, From the way he looks, about the latest rebellion. The situation is new.
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.
This is the soldier Who, like a brave and strong fighter, fought To free me. Hail, brave friend! Tell the king what you know about the battle As you last saw it.
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 villanies 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 smoked with bloody execution, Like valour’s minion carved out his passage Till he faced the slave; Which 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.
It was uncertain; Like two exhausted swimmers who cling together And struggle to stay afloat. The merciless Macdonwald-- He deserved to be a rebel, because Nature’s evil forces Came down on him--he was joined by men From the western islands, And fortune, smiling on his cursed cause, Looked like a rebel’s prostitute: but it was all too weak: For brave Macbeth--he truly earned that name-- Disregarding fortune, with his raised sword, Which dripped with bloody slaughter, Like the favorite of courage, he hacked his way Until he met the traitor; He never shook his hand, or even said goodbye, Until he cut him open from belly to jaw, And placed his head on our battlements.
O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!
Oh, valiant cousin! A worthy man!
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 valour 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.
Just as the sun, when it starts to shine, Causes storms and terrible thunder to break, From the same source that seemed to bring comfort, Misery follows. Listen, king of Scotland, listen: No sooner had justice armed with courage Forced these wild men to run away, Than the Norwegian lord, seeing an opportunity, With fresh weapons and new men, Launched a new attack.
Dismay’d not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Did this not frighten Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Yes; As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, Or memorise another Golgotha, I cannot tell. But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
Yes; Like sparrows against eagles, or the hare against the lion. To tell the truth, I must say they were Like cannons overloaded with double charges, so they Hit the enemy twice as hard: Unless they meant to bathe in bloody wounds, Or create another Golgotha, I can’t say. But I am weak, my wounds need attention.
So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons.
Your words are as honorable as your wounds; They both show great courage. Go get him a doctor.
Who comes here?
Who is coming here?
The worthy thane of Ross.
The noble thane of Ross.
What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look That seems to speak things strange.
He looks in such a hurry! He must be coming to report something urgent.
God save the king!
God save the king!
Whence camest thou, worthy thane?
Where did you come from, noble thane?
From Fife, great king; Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky And fan our people cold. Norway himself, With terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; Till that Bellona’s bridegroom, lapp’d in proof, Confronted him with self-comparisons, Point against point rebellious, arm ’gainst arm. Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, The victory fell on us.
From Fife, great king; Where the Norwegian banners mock the sky And chill our people. Norway himself, With a huge army, Supported by the most treacherous traitor, The thane of Cawdor, started a horrible battle; Until that warrior of the goddess Bellona, armored and ready, Confronted him head on, Point for point, rebellious sword for rebellious sword. He tamed his reckless spirit: and, to sum up, The victory was ours.
Great happiness!
Great happiness!
That now Sweno, the Norways’ king, craves composition: Nor would we deign him burial of his men Till he disbursed at Saint Colme’s inch Ten thousand dollars to our general use.
Now King Sweno of Norway asks for a settlement: And we wouldn’t even let him bury his men Until he paid ten thousand dollars at Saint Colme’s inch For our general use.
No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death, And with his former title greet Macbeth.
No longer will the Thane of Cawdor trick Our loyalty: go announce his immediate execution, And give Macbeth his old title.
I’ll see it done.
I’ll make sure it’s done.
What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won.
What he has lost, noble Macbeth has gained.