The Tragedy of Macbeth — Act 3, Scene 5: A Heath.

Thunder brings the three witches to Hecate, who is angry that they have dealt with Macbeth without involving her. She scolds them for using riddles and prophecies with him and says they have only helped a selfish man who loves power for himself. Hecate orders them to meet her at Acheron the next morning and prepare their spells, while she goes to fetch a magical ingredient from the air. She plans to create spirits and illusions that will trap Macbeth by making him feel safe and overconfident. After hearing music and a call from within, she leaves, and the witches hurry off to get ready.

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Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly.

Have I not reason, beldams as you are,

Saucy and overbold? How did you dare

To trade and traffic with Macbeth

In riddles and affairs of death;

And I, the mistress of your charms,

The close contriver of all harms,

Was never call'd to bear my part,

Or show the glory of our art?

And, which is worse, all you have done

Hath been but for a wayward son,

Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do,

Loves for his own ends, not for you.

But make amends now: get you gone,

And at the pit of Acheron

Meet me i' the morning: thither he

Will come to know his destiny:

Your vessels and your spells provide,

Your charms and every thing beside.

I am for the air; this night I'll spend

Unto a dismal and a fatal end:

Great business must be wrought ere noon:

Upon the corner of the moon

There hangs a vaporous drop profound;

I'll catch it ere it come to ground:

And that distill'd by magic sleights

Shall raise such artificial sprites

As by the strength of their illusion

Shall draw him on to his confusion:

He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear

He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear:

And you all know, security

Is mortals' chiefest enemy.

Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see,

Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.

Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again.