Hecate, the chief witch, addresses the other witches, berating them for telling Macbeth too much, or not enough.
[Hecate, the head witch has a meeting with the other three witches.]
First Witch.
0, Well, hey, hey, HEY! Howdy, Hecate. Waddya say?
What's the problem? You don't look too happy today!
Hecate.
[Having gone off the deep end, she berates and chides the others.]
I have good reason, sad or mad;
As delegates, you three've been bad.
How dare you speak of kings and death
In rhymes obscure to poor Macbeth?
Of all the witches brewed or bred,
I am the ONE on top, the head.
You never asked me, not one word,
To help him with all that he heard
About a crown and sons and kings,
Treason, thanes, and other things
That left Macbeth and friends confused,
Some dead, some fled, and others, used
In plots and plans for his own end
To break his vows and others, mend.
For now, begone; I'll try to fix
What all you broke by nasty tricks.
Macbeth would like his destiny
In simple terms explained by me
Better, clearly, simple terms;
No frogs or lizards, earthy worms;
No horror stories left to tell.
So, get you gone, you three to hell.
I'm leaving too; I gotta run
Before the moon meets rising sun.
The moon is right this very night,
To make a spirit so he can hear 't,
And make all others think they're blind
Because his sight they cannot find. (Hee, hee!)
(There's not much time for too much rhyme:
The rest of this I'll do in mime.)
The while you ugly girls are working
My time I'll spend unseen, but lurking
In the darkness, waiting, baiting
The man who spends his time but hating
With traps that snag and tricks that lure
For him all things he thinks are sure;
But, then, he'll find his end in death;
All say ,"Goodbye," to King Macbeth. [She pauses]
Oh, hear that, Hark! There's someone calling . . .
I cannot stay; she'll think I'm stalling.
Oh, you up there, I call out loud!
If you can hear, get offa my cloud.
[Hecate flies away like, but better than, Fleance.]
First Witch.
Golly, Geez! I'm glad that's over.
One more rhyme, I'd head for cover.
Let's hit the road, girls -- Be like Jack.
Hit the road; she might be back.
[All fly away.]
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 972 times
Written on 2007-01-21 at 03:29
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Macbeth, Act III, sc. v, A Chief Witch's State of the Union Address
[Hecate, the head witch has a meeting with the other three witches.]
First Witch.
0, Well, hey, hey, HEY! Howdy, Hecate. Waddya say?
What's the problem? You don't look too happy today!
Hecate.
[Having gone off the deep end, she berates and chides the others.]
I have good reason, sad or mad;
As delegates, you three've been bad.
How dare you speak of kings and death
In rhymes obscure to poor Macbeth?
Of all the witches brewed or bred,
I am the ONE on top, the head.
You never asked me, not one word,
To help him with all that he heard
About a crown and sons and kings,
Treason, thanes, and other things
That left Macbeth and friends confused,
Some dead, some fled, and others, used
In plots and plans for his own end
To break his vows and others, mend.
For now, begone; I'll try to fix
What all you broke by nasty tricks.
Macbeth would like his destiny
In simple terms explained by me
Better, clearly, simple terms;
No frogs or lizards, earthy worms;
No horror stories left to tell.
So, get you gone, you three to hell.
I'm leaving too; I gotta run
Before the moon meets rising sun.
The moon is right this very night,
To make a spirit so he can hear 't,
And make all others think they're blind
Because his sight they cannot find. (Hee, hee!)
(There's not much time for too much rhyme:
The rest of this I'll do in mime.)
The while you ugly girls are working
My time I'll spend unseen, but lurking
In the darkness, waiting, baiting
The man who spends his time but hating
With traps that snag and tricks that lure
For him all things he thinks are sure;
But, then, he'll find his end in death;
All say ,"Goodbye," to King Macbeth. [She pauses]
Oh, hear that, Hark! There's someone calling . . .
I cannot stay; she'll think I'm stalling.
Oh, you up there, I call out loud!
If you can hear, get offa my cloud.
[Hecate flies away like, but better than, Fleance.]
First Witch.
Golly, Geez! I'm glad that's over.
One more rhyme, I'd head for cover.
Let's hit the road, girls -- Be like Jack.
Hit the road; she might be back.
[All fly away.]
Poetry by NotaDeadPoet
Read 972 times
Written on 2007-01-21 at 03:29
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