Hecate's Soliloquy

Have I not reason bedlams 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 called 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, and get you gone and at the pit of Acheron, meet me in the morning, thither he will come to know his destiny.