Thunder. Three figures wait upon a barren heath.

FIRST WITCH: All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!
SECOND WITCH: All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!
THIRD WITCH: All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter!
BANQUO: Good sir, why do you start and seem to fear things that sound so fair?
MACBETH: Stay, imperfect speakers. Tell me more. By what name do you call me Cawdor?
FIRST WITCH: Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
SECOND WITCH: Not so happy, yet much happier.
THIRD WITCH: Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none.
BANQUO: The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, and these are of them.
MACBETH: Into the air, and what seemed corporal melted as breath into the wind.
