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Posters of the sea and land,

Thus do go about, about:

Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,

And thrice again, to make up nine.

Peace! the charm's wound up.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

Ban. How far is 't call'd to Forres? What are these,

So wither'd and so wild in their attire,

That look not like th' inhabitants o' the earth,

And yet are on 't? Live you? or are you aught

That man may question? You seem to understand me,

By each at once her choppy finger laying

Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,

And yet your beards, forbid me to interpret

That you are so.

Macb. Speak, if you can: what are you?

First Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!

Sec. Witch. All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!

Third Witch. All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter.

Ban. Good sir, why do you start, and seem to fear

Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth,

Are ye fantastical, or that indeed

Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner

You greet with present grace and great prediction

 33 Posters: couriers

35 Thrice to thine; cf. n.

44 choppy: wrinkled and cracked

53 fantastical: unreal, imaginary

