Thunder and lightning. Enter three witches.
When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
When the hurly-burly's done,
When the battle's lost, and won.
That will ere the set of sun.
Where the place?
Upon the Heath.
There to meet with Macbeth.
I come, Graymalkin.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair,
Hover through the fog and filthy air.
Continue to: Macbeth I.ii