Fair, Kind, And True, Have Often Lived

The Thane Of Cawdor Lives, A Prosperous Gentleman; And To Be King Stands Not Within The Prospect Of Belief, No More Than To Be Cawdor.

And The More Pity That Great Folk Should Have Count'nance In This World To Drown Or Hang Themselves More Than Their Even-christen.

Though Inclination Be As Sharp As Will, My Stronger Guilt Defeats My Strong Intent, And, Like A Man To Double Business Bound, I Stand In Pause Where I Shall First Begin, And Both Neglect.

If You Shall Marry, You Give Away This Hand, And This Is Mine; You Give Away Heaven's Vows, And Those Are Mine; You Give Away Myself, Which Is Known Mine; For I By Vow Am So Embodied Yours That She Which Marries You Must Marry Me-- Either Both Or None.

She Marking Them Begins A Wailing Note And Sings Extemporally A Woeful Ditty How Love Makes Young Men Thrall And Old Men Dote How Love Is Wise In Folly, Foolish-witty Her Heavy Anthem Still Concludes In Woe, And Still The Choir Of Echoes Answer So.