Curse of the Macbeths (2022) - full transcript

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- We have
an active shooter!

We have an active shooter!

- I got one down,
gunshot wound to the leg.

- We have
multiple casualties!

We have gunmen at
the medical check.

Multiple casualties!

Turning and turning

in the widening gyre.

The falcon cannot
hear the falconer.

Things fall apart.

The center cannot hold.



Mere anarchy is
loosed upon the world.

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed,

and everywhere

the ceremony of
innocence is drowned.

The best lack all conviction,

while the worst

are full of
passionate intensity.

Surely some
revelation is at hand.

Surely the Second
Coming is at hand.

- Report.

- Say the knowledge.

- The merciless Macdonwald.

The multiplying villainies
of nature swarm upon him.

And fortune,



on his damned quarrel smiling

showed like a devil's whore.

But all's too weak

for brave Macbeth,

with his brandished steel,

which smoked with
bloody execution.

He unseamed him from
the nave to the chaps

and fixed his head
upon our battlement.

- Worthy.

- A fresh assault!

I bathe in reeking wounds.

My gashes cry for help.

- Get him surgeons.

- Aye.

- When shall we
three meet again?

In thunder,
lightning or in rain?

When the hurlyburly's done,

when the battle's lost and won,

that will be ere the
set of sun, where?

Fair is foul and foul is fair,

hover through the
fog and filthy air.

Where hast thou been, sister?

Killing swine.

And munched and
munched and munched.

Like a rat without a tail,
I'll do, I'll do, I'll do.

A wind.

- Ross!

- A haste looks
through his eyes.

It seems to speak
things strange.

- God save the King.

- Whence camest thou?

- A dismal conflict.

The victory fell on us.

- Mmm.

No more the thane of
Cawdor shall deceive.

Go pronounce his present death,

and...

with his title, greet Macbeth.

- I'll see it done.

- What he hath lost,

noble Macbeth hath won.

Boom.

- The second coming.

Hardly are those words out

when a vast image
out of Spiritus Mundi

Somewhere in sands of the desert

a shape with lion body
and the head of a man,

a gaze blank and
pitiless as the sun,

is moving its slow
thighs, while all about it

reel shadows of the
indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again,

but now I know

that 20 centuries of stony sleep

were vexed to nightmare
by a rocking cradle.

- So foul

and fair a day I have not seen.

- And what rough beast

its hour come round at last,

slouches towards
Bethlehem to be born?

♪ Fair is foul,
and foul is fair ♪

♪ Hover through the
fog and filthy air ♪

♪ Fair is foul,
and foul is fair ♪

♪ Hover through the
fog and filthy air ♪

♪ Fair is foul
and foul is fair ♪

♪ Fair is foul,
and foul is fair ♪

- All hail, Macbeth.

Hail to thee, thane of Glamis.

All hail, Macbeth.

Hail to thee, thane of Cawdor.

All hail, Macbeth.

Thou shalt be king hereafter!

- To me you speak not.

If you can look into
the seeds of time

and say which grains will
grow and which will not,

speak then to me.

- Lesser than
Macbeth, and greater.

Not so happy, yet much happier.

Thou shalt get kings,
though thou be none.

So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

♪ Fair is foul
and foul is fair ♪

♪ Hover through the
fog and filthy air ♪

- All hail, Macbeth!
- All hail, Macbeth!

♪ Fair is foul
and foul is fair ♪

♪ Hover through the
fog and filthy air ♪

♪ Hover through the
fog and filthy air ♪

- Who's there?

- We are sent to give thee
from our royal master thanks.

- He bade me call
thee thane of Cawdor.

Hail, most worthy thane.

For it is thine.

- What?

What?

Can a devil speak true?

- The thane of Cawdor lives.

Why do you dress me
in borrowed robes?

- He labored in his
country's wrecks.

Treason's capital,

confessed and proved,
have overthrown him.

- I thank you for your pains.

- Have we eaten
on the insane root

that takes the reason prisoner?

- Your children shall be kings.

- You shall be king.

Duncan comes hither tonight.

- And when goes hence?

- Tomorrow, as he purposes.

- O, never shall
sun that morrow see.

Your face, my
thane, is as a book

where men may read
strange matters.

To beguile the time,

look like the time,

bear welcome in your eye,

your hand, your tongue,

look like the innocent flower,

but be the serpent under it.

Yet I do fear thy nature.

It is too full the
milk of human kindness

to catch the nearest way.

Thou wouldst be great.

Art not without ambition,

but without the illness
should attend it.

Hie thee hither,

that I may pour my
spirits in thine ear

and chastise with the
valor of my tongue

all that impedes thee
from the golden round.

The raven, himself,

is hoarse

that croaks the fatal
entrance of Duncan

under my battlements.

Come,

you spirits.

Attend on mortal thoughts,

unsex me here,

and fill me from
the crown to the toe

top-full of direst cruelty.

Make thick my blood.

Stop up the access and
passage to remorse,

that no compunctious
visitings of nature

shake my fell purpose,

nor make peace between
the effect and it.

Come to my woman's breasts
and take my milk for gall,

you murdering ministers,

wherever in your
sightless substances

you wait on nature's mischief.

Come, thick night, and pall thee

in the dunnest smoke of hell,

that my keen knife see
not the wound it makes,

nor heaven peep through
the blanket of the dark,

to cry "Hold, hold!"

- If it were done
when 'tis done,

then 'twere well it
were done quickly.

If the...

assassination could trammel
up the consequences,

and catch with his
surcease success

that but this blow

might be the be-all

and the end-all here,

but here,

upon this bank
and shoal of time,

we'll jump the life to come.

But in these cases we
still have judgment here,

that we but teach
bloody instruction,

which being taught,

returns to plague the inventor.

Mmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm.

This even-handed justice

commends the ingredients

of our poisoned chalice
to our own lips.

- Is execution done on Cawdor?

- Nothing in his life became him

like the leaving it.

- There's no art to find

the mind's construction
in the face.

He was a gentleman

on whom I built
an absolute trust.

My worthy Cawdor.

- He's here in double trust,

first, as I am his kinsman
and his subject strong,

both against the deed, then,

as his host,

who should against his
murderer shut the door,

not bear the knife myself.

Besides,

this Duncan hath borne
his faculties so meek,

hath been so clear
in his great office,

that his virtues will
plead like angels,

trumpet-tongued,

against the deep damnation

of his taking-off.

And pity,

like a naked new-born babe,

striding the blast,

or heaven's cherubim,

horsed upon the sightless
couriers of the air,

shall blow the horrid deed

in every eye,

that tears

shall drown the wind.

- This castle hath
a pleasant seat.

The air...

freely and nimbly recommends
itself to our gentle senses.

My fair and gentle hostess,

we are your guests tonight.

- Macbeth!

Macbeth!

Macbeth!

Macbe...

Sleep no more.

Macbeth has murdered sleep.

Macbeth has murdered sleep.

Macbeth shall sleep no more!

Macbeth shall sleep no more.

Ah, ah, ah!

Oh, fuck.

- The king's a-bed.

He hath been in
unusual pleasure.

This diamond he greets
your wife withal

by the name of most
kind hostess, and...

- False face must hide what
the false heart doth know.

- I dreamt last night
of the weird sisters.

To you, they have
shown some truth.

- I think not of them.

How now?

What news?

- He has almost supped, why
have you left the chamber?

- Hath he asked for me?

- Know you not he has?

- We will proceed

no further with this business.

- Was the hope drunk wherein
you dressed yourself?

Hath it slept since?

And wakes it now, to
look so green and pale

at what it did so freely?

From this time, such
I account thy love.

Art thou afraid

to be the same in
thine own act and valor

as thou art in desire?

Wouldst thou have that
which thou esteems

to the ornament of life,

and live a coward
in thine own esteem,

letting "I dare not'"
wait upon "I would?"

- Prithee, peace!

I dare do all that
may become a man

who dares do more is none!

- What beast was it, then,

that made you break
this enterprise to me?

When you durst do it,
then you were a man.

I have given suck,

and know how tender it is

to love the babe that milks me.

I would,

while it was smiling in my face,

have plucked my nipple
from his boneless gums,

and dashed the brains out,

had I so sworn as you
have done to this!

- If we should fail?

- We fail.

But screw your courage
to the sticking-place,

and we'll not fail.

When Duncan is asleep,

his two chamberlains,

will I with wine and
wassail so convince

that memory, the warder of
the brain, shall be a fume,

and when in swinish sleep

their drenched natures
lie as in a death.

What cannot you and I perform
against the unguarded Duncan?

- Is this a dagger
I see before me,

the handle towards my hand?

Come,

let me clutch thee.

I have thee not,

and yet I see thee still.

Art thou not,

fatal vision,

sensible to feeling as
to sight or art thou but

a dagger of the mind,

a false creation,

proceeding from the
heat-oppressed brain?

Oh.

I...

see thee yet,

in form

as palpable

as this

which now I draw.

And on thy blade

and dudgeon

gouts of blood,

which was not so before.

- My husband.

- I have done the deed.

Didst I hear a noise?

- I heard the owl scream
and the crickets cry.

Did not you speak?

- When?
- Now.

- As I descended?

- Aye.

- This is a sorry sight.

- A foolish thought,
to say a sorry sight.

- There's one...

did laugh in his sleep,
and one cried "murder"

that they did wake each
other, I stood and heard them,

but they did say their prayers,

and addressed them
again to sleep.

- There are two lodged together.

- One cried "God bless
us" and the other, "Amen"

as they had seen me with
these hangman's hands.

Listening their fear,
I could not say "Amen,"

when they did say
"God bless us!"

- Consider it not so deeply.

- But wherefore could
not I pronounce "Amen?"

I had most need of blessing,
and "Amen" stuck in my throat!

- Sleep no more.

- Sleep no more.

It's just murder.

Sleep no more.
- Before I heard a voice cry,

"Sleep no more!

"Macbeth does murder sleep."

- Macbeth does murder sleep.

- The innocent sleep.

Sleep that knits up the raveled

sleeve of care.

The death of each day's life,

sore labor's bath
balm of hurt minds,

great nature's second course,

chief nourisher in life's feast.

"Sleep no more,"

steady cries, "Macbeth
hath murdered sleep!

"Sleep no more, Macbeth
hath murdered sleep

"and therefore,
Macbeth shall sleep

"no more!"
- Why did you bring the dagger

from the place?

It must lie there.

Give me the dagger.

- Bring forth men-children only.

- The king was murdered.

Those of his chamber, as
it seemed, had done it.

Their hands and faces
were an badged with blood,

so were their daggers,

which unwiped we found
upon their pillows.

- I do repent me of my fury,

I did kill him.

- Wherefore did you so?

- Here lay Duncan,

his silver skin laced
with his golden blood.

There, the murderers,

who could refrain,

that had a heart to love?

- Let us meet to question
this most bloody piece of work

to know it further.

The great hand of God stand I,

against the undivulged pretense

I fight of treasonous malice.

- Malcolm and
Donalbain, his two sons,

are stolen away and fled,

which puts upon them
suspicion of the deed.

- It seems most like
the sovereignty will

- I am already named

and...

gone to Scone to be invested.

Ride you this afternoon?

- Aye, my good lord.

- Is it far, your ride?

- As far, my lord,
as will fill up the time

'twixt this and supper.

- Fail not our feast.

- My lord, I will not.

- I shall
drain him dry as hay

and sleep shall
neither night nor day.

Hang upon his pent-house lid,

he shall live a man forbid.

Macbeth doth come.

♪ Macbeth ♪

♪ Doth come ♪

♪ Macbeth doth come ♪

- Oooooo.

Whence is that knocking?

How is it with me, that
every noise appalls me?

What hands are these?

Ah!

Ah!

They pluck out mine eyes!

Will all great Neptune's
oceans wash clean these hands?

No!

This, my hand, will rather
the multitudinous seas

in incarnadine,

making the green one red.

Knock, knock.

- Who's there?
- Who's there?

- In the name of Beelzebub.

- Here's a farmer...

that hanged himself on
the expectation of plenty.

Knock, knock.

- Who's there?
- Who's there?

- Here's an equivocator,

that could swear
in both the scales

against either scale.

Who committed treason,

yet could not
equivocate to heaven.

Knock,

knock.

- Who's there?
- Who's there?

- Here's an English tailor.

- Snip, snip, snip, snip.
- Snip, snip, snip, snip.

- Snip, snip, snip, snip.

- Here, you will
roast your goose.

What are you?

But this place is
too cold for hell.

- To be thus...

is nothing.

But to be safely thus.

Our fears

in Banquo

stick deep.

And in his royalty of nature

reigns that which
would be feared.

'Tis much he dares.

There is none but he

whose being I do fear.

And, under him,

my Genius is rebuked,
as, it is said,

Mark Antony's was

by Caesar.

He chid the sisters

when first they put the
name of king upon me,

and bad him

talk to them.

Then prophet-like,

they hailed him.

Father to a line of kings.

Hmm?

And put a barren
scepter in my grip,

thence to be wrenched
with an unlineal hand,

Hmm?

- Mmm.
- Hmm.

No son of mine succeeding...

If it be so,

for Banquo's son

have I

filed my mind.

For them,

the gracious Duncan

have I murdered

only for them

and mine eternal jewel

given

to the common enemy of man!

To make them kings!

The seed

of Banquo

kings!

Was it not yesterday
we spoke together?

- It was, so please
your highness.

- Well then,

now,

Have you considered
of my speeches?

Know that it was he

in the times past which
held you so under fortune,

which you thought had
been our innocent self,

this I made good to you
in our last conference,

"Thus did Banquo."

- You made it known to us.

- I did so, and went further,

which is now our point
of second meeting.

Do you find your patience

so predominant in your nature
that you can let this go?

- We are men, my liege.

- Aye.

In the catalog ye go for men,

as hounds and greyhounds,

mongrels, spaniels,

curs, shoughs,

water-rugs, demi-wolves,
are clept...

By the name of dogs,

I will put that
business in your bosoms,

whose execution
takes your enemy off,

grapples you to the
heart and love...

of me.

- I am one, my liege.

Whom the vile blows and
buffets of the world

have so incensed

that I am reckless what
I do to spite the world.

- You know Banquo
was your enemy.

So is he mine.

- We are resolved, my lord.

- Your spirits
shine through you.

Must be done tonight.

Fleance, his son,

must embrace the fate

of that dark hour.

- Weary se'nnights,

nine times nine shall he
dwindle, peak and pine!

Though his bark
shall not be lost,

yet it shall be tempest-tost.

Macbeth doth come.

Macbeth doth come.

- How now, my lord?

Why do you sit alone?

Of sorriest fancies
your companions making,

letting those thoughts
which should indeed

have died with
them they think on?

What's done is done.

- Duncan is in his grave!

He sleeps well!

- Macbeth doth come!
♪ The newborn king ♪

♪ Peace ♪

- Treason has done his worst!

Nor steel, nor poison,

malice domestic, foreign levy!

Nothing

can touch him further!

- Gentle my lord,

sleek o'er your rugged looks.

Be bright and jovial
among your guests tonight.

- Thou knows that Banquo,
and his Fleance, lives.

What's to be done?

- Macbeth doth come.

Macbeth doth come.

♪ Glory to the newborn king ♪

- Macbeth doth come!

♪ Sleep no more ♪

♪ Macbeth does murder sleep ♪

♪ Sleep no more ♪

♪ Macbeth does murder sleep ♪

♪ Sleep no more ♪

♪ Macbeth does murder sleep ♪

♪ Sleep no more ♪
- Look what I have!

♪ Macbeth does murder sleep ♪

- Macbeth doth come!

- There's
blood on your face.

- 'Tis Banquo's then.

- Is he dispatched?

- His throat is cut.

- That I did for him.

- Fleance?

- Fleance...

escaped.

Bleed.

Bleed, poor country.

Great tyranny.

I think our country
sinks beneath the yoke.

- Sneakth on me?

- Tis time, tis time.

- Each new day, a gash

opens up her wounds.

A deed without a name.

Macbeth.

Macbeth.

Macbeth.

- When I shall tread
upon the tyrant's head,

or wear it on my sword,
yet my poor country.

O Scotland.

O Scotland.

Macbeth.

Macbeth.

Be bloody, bold, and resolute.

Laugh to scorn the power of man,

for none of woman born
shall harm Macbeth.

- Yet my heart throbs
to know one thing.

Tell me,

shall Banquo's issue ever
reign in this kingdom?

Tell me!

- Seek to know no more.

- I shall be satisfied!

- Tomorrow

and tomorrow

and tomorrow.

Creeps in this petty
pace from day to day

to the last syllable
of recorded time.

Sit, worthy friends.

My lord is often thus and
hath been from his youth.

The fit is momentary.

Upon a thought, he
will again be well.

Feed, and regard him not.

- And
all our yesterdays

have lighted fools the
way to dusty death.

Out,

out, brief candle.

Life is but a walking shadow,

a poor player

that struts and frets
his hour upon the stage

and then is heard no more.

It is a tale

told by an idiot,

full of sound and fury,

signifying

nothing.

- See?

There.

Behold!

- What, my good lord?

- Look!

Look!

I saw him!

I saw him!

I saw him!

When the brains were out,

the man would die,

and there an end but now...

oh, they rise again.

- Noble friends.

- I have a strange infirmity,

which is nothing to
those that love me.

Come.

Love and health
to all, fill full.

Fill full!

Drink!

Give me some wine!

Give me some wine?

Fill full.

I drink to the general.

Joy of the whole table,

and to our dear friend, Banquo.

Whom we miss.

Would he were here!

To all, and him, we
thirst, and all to all.

Let the earth hide thee!

Thy bones are marrowless!

Thy blood is cold, thou
hast no speculation

in those eyes which
thou dost glare with!

What man dare, I dare...

Approach her like a
rugged Russian bear,

the armed rhinoceros, or the
Hyrcan tiger, take any shape

but that, and my firm nerves

shall never tremble
or be alive again!

And dare me to the
desert with your sword!

- You have displaced the mirth,

broke the good meeting,

with most admired disorder.

Think of this, good friends,

as but a think of
custom, 'tis no other.

Only it spoils the
pleasure of the time.

- Can such things be,

and overcome us like
a summer's cloud,

without our special wonder?

You make me strange

even to the
disposition that I owe.

When now I think you
can behold such sights

and keep the natural
ruby of your cheeks.

When mine is blanched with fear.

- Speak not.

He grows worse and worse.

At once,

good night.

Go, at once!

- It will have blood, they say.

Blood will have blood.

Stones have been known to move

and trees

to speak.

- Help, help!

Was my father a traitor?

- Your father's dead.

And what will you do now?

How will you live?

- What is a traitor?

- Why?

One that swears and lies.

- And be all
traitors that do so?

- Aye.

- He is dead.

- And must they all be
hanged who swear and lie?

- All.

Everyone.

- Everyone.

- Who
must hang them?

- Why, the honest men.

- His flight was madness

when our actions do not, our
fears do make us traitors.

- Came they not by you?

- To leave his wife,

to leave his babes, his
mansion and his titles

in a place from whence
himself does fly?

He loves us not.

For the poor wren, the most
diminutive of birds will fight!

Her young ones in her
nest, against the owl!

All is the fear and
nothing is the love!

- What's the boy,

MacDuff?

Was he not born of woman?

Where is your husband?

- I hope, in no
place so unsanctified

where such as thou
mayst find him.

God help thee, poor monkey!

God help thee, poor monkey!

Murder!

Murder!

Murder!

- Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

- Bring me no more reports.

I cannot taint

with fear.

What's the boy, MacDuff,

was he not born of woman?

What's the boy, MacDuff,

was he not born of woman?

- Look not so pale.

I tell you yet again,
Banquo's buried,

he cannot come out on his grave.

- I cannot taint with fear.

The spirits that know...

all mortal...

consequences

have pronounced me thus...

Ha!

"Fear not, Macbeth.

"No man that's born of woman

"shall e'er have
power over thee."

- The thane of Fife had a wife.

Where is she now?

One,

two,

why then, 'tis time to do it.

To bed.

To bed!

Come.

Come.

Come.

Come.

Give me your hand.

- What's done cannot be undone.

Give me my armor!

Give me my armor!

- What's done cannot be undone.

What's done cannot be undone.

- Tomorrow

and tomorrow

and tomorrow

creeps in this petty
pace from day to day.

Till the last syllable
of recorded time,

and all our yesterdays
have lighted fools

the way to dusty death.

- How does my wife?

- Why, well.

- And all my children?

- Well too.

- The tyrant has not
battered at their peace?

- No, they were well at
peace the last time I saw.

- Help!

Help!

Help!

- If it be mine,

keep it not from me.

Quickly, let me have it.

My castle is surprised,

my wife and babes
savagely slaughtered.

What, my children too?

Wife, children, servants, all!

All that could be found,
my wife killed too!

He has no children!

All!

Did you say, "All,
all, my pretty ones."

Did you say all?

- Dispute it like a man.

Get thee back.

My soul

is too much charged with
blood of thine already.

I bear

a charmed life,

which must not yield,

to one of woman born.

- MacDuff was from his
mother's womb untimely ripped.

- Out!

Out, brief candle!

Life is but a walking shadow,

a poor player that
struts and frets

his hour upon the stage.

And then

is heard

no more.

It is

a tale

told

by an idiot,

full of sound

and fury,

signifying...

nothing.