[Verse 1] Oboes breathing through the castle gate, Duncan's horses slowing at the weight of walls that seem to welcome, stone by stone, "This castle hath a pleasant seat," he's shown to say such things when comfort fills his chest — he reads the house and never asks the rest. [Chorus] Sweet air, sweet air, nothing here is sour, Martlets nesting in every tower, But hush now, listen closer than you think, The flower hides the serpent at the brink. [Verse 2] Banquo tilts his head toward the eaves, counts the temple-haunting birds, believes where martlets breed their cradle and their young the heaven's breath is gentle on the tongue. No jutty, frieze, no coign of vantage bare but these small guests have built their lodging there. [Chorus] Sweet air, sweet air, nothing here is sour, Martlets nesting in every tower, But hush now, listen closer than you think, The flower hides the serpent at the brink. [Verse 3] Lady Macbeth steps out in borrowed light, her courtesy a lantern wrapped too tight, she thanks the king for trouble and for pains, she says her service doubles what remains. Duncan takes her hand, calls her his host, "Fair and noble hostess" — trusts the most the woman who, we know, has sharpened steel behind a voice that's taught itself to kneel. [Bridge] We heard her scheme already, heard the plan, now Scene Six hands the dagger to the man in velvet phrases, oboe-sweetened air — dramatic irony is sitting there: we know the ending, Duncan does not see, the pleasant seat's a trap built cordially. [Verse 4] Seat just means the place, the where, the home, martlet's just a bird that builds of loam, coign of vantage, a handy little nook, hautboys are oboes — check the glossary book. Learn the words and watch the scene unfold, the warmest welcome masks a plot grown cold. [Chorus] Sweet air, sweet air, nothing here is sour, Martlets nesting in every tower, But hush now, listen closer than you think, The flower hides the serpent at the brink. [Verse 5] The castle keeps its secrets in the stone, a guest who will not wake to see the dawn alone, the raven's hoarse beneath the battlement, foretelling what the gentle words have meant. Duncan sleeps where kindness paved the floor, not knowing comfort opens every door to daggers dressed as duty, kin as friend — the pleasant seat becomes the fatal end. [Outro] Sweet air, sweet air, the oboes playing on, Duncan walks in singing someone else's song, martlets nesting, courtesy on tap — smile, dear guest, and step into the trap. [Chorus] Sweet air, sweet air, nothing here is sour, Martlets nesting in every tower, But hush now, listen closer than you think, The flower hides the serpent at the brink.
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