A Strange Encounter
It was on our way towards Forres, where we had the most peculiar of encounters. Rather, horrific than state is as just unordinary. As Banquo conversed about the king’s court we were to soon encounter, we caught sight of three horrendous hags.
Banquo sighed, “ What are these, so withered, and so wild in their attireThat look not like th’ inhabitants o’th’ eath.. And yet are on ‘t? - Live you? Or are you ought. Than 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. (1.3.39-47)
But they seemed as to have little regard for his observations, as they addressed me by my previous title. Those witches! How they had the audacity to call me by a title, “thane of Cawdor”, as if they had the power to grant me as such a title. They talked in riddles, and rather than stop them, Banquo entertained them and disappeared before answer my questions. Although I was confused, I believe my companion was slightly more shocked. Will I actually be king- NO! I mustn’t let these crones control me with their lies. But would that possibility ever exist? I do still ponder about what transpired, as I feel scared and excited by the realm of possibility the cows conversed of.
