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There would be hands uplifted lo my right; Macd. O Scotland! Scotland!
And herc, from gracious England, have I offer Mah. If such a one be tit to govern, speak:
Of goodly thousands : but, for all this,

I am as I have spoken.
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,

Macd. Fit to govern! Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country No, not to live.-0 nation miserable, Shall have more vices than it had before; With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptred, More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever, When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again? By him that shall succeed.

Since that the truest issue of thy throne Macd. What should he be?

By his own interdiction stands accurs'd, Mal. It is myself I mean: in whom I know And does blaspheme his breed?—Thy royal father AU the particulars of vice so grafted,

Was a most sainted kivg; the queen, that bore tbee, That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet, Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd

These evils, thou repeat'st upon thyself, With my confincless harms.

Have banish'd me from Scotland.—0, my breast Macd. Not in the legions

Thy hope ends here!
Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn'd Mal. Macduff, this noble passion,
In evils, to top Macbeth.

Child of integrity, hath from my sou
Mal. I grant him bloody,

Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,

To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin

By many of these trains hath sought to win me
That has a name. But there's no bottom, none, Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me
In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, I'rom over-credulous haste. But God above
Your matrons, and your maids, could not till up Deal between thee and me! for even now
The cistern of my lust; and my desire

I put myself to thy direction, and
All continent impediments woald o'erbear, Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure
That did oppose my will: better Macbeth, The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
Than such a one to reign.

For strangers to my nature.

I am yet Mucd. Boundless intemperance

Unknown to woman; never was forsworn; In nature is a tyranny; it hath been

Scarcely have coveted what was mine own; The untimely emptying of the happy throne, At no time broke my faith ; would not betray And fall of many kings. But fear not yet The devil to his fellow; and delight To take upon you what is yours: you

No less in truth, than life: my irst false speaking Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, [wink. Was this upon myself. What I am truly, And yet seem cold, the time you may so bood- Is thine, and my poor country's, to command: We have willing dames enough; there cannot be Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach, That vulture in you, to devour so many

Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men, As will to greatness dedicate themselves,

All ready at a point, was setting forth; Finding it so inclin'd.

Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness, Mal. With this, there grows,

Belikeour warranted quo cel! Why are you silent? In my most ill-compos'd affection, such

Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things at A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,

once, I should cut off the nobles for their lands;

'Tis hard to reconcile. Desire his jewels, and this other's house :

Enter a Doctor. And my more having would be as a sauce

Mal. Well; more anon.-- Comes the king forth. To make me hunger more; that I should forge

I pray you?

(souls, Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,

Doct. Ay, sir : there are a crew of wretched Destroying them for wealth.

That stay his cure; their malady convinces
Maca. This avarice

The great assay of art; but, at his touch,
Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand,
Than summer-seeding lust: and it hath been They presently amend.
The sword of our slain kings. Yet do not fear; Mal. I thank you, doctor.
Scotland hath foysons to fill up your will,

Macd. What is the disease he means?
Of your mere own: all these are portable,

Mal. 'Tis call'd the evil: With other graces weigh'd.

A most miraculous work in this good king; Mal. But I have none: the king-becoining Which often, since my here-remain in England, As justice, verity, tenperance, stableness, (graves, have seen him do. How he solicits heaven, Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,

Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,

All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, I have no relish of them; but abound

The mere despair of surgery, he cures;
In the division of each several crime,

Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken,
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, To the succeeding royalty he leaves
L'proar the universal peace, confound

T'he healing benediction. With this strange virtue, itil unity on earth.

He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;

(exit Doct.

And sundry blessings hang about his throne, Rosse. No mind, that's honest,
That speak him full of grace.

But in it shares some woe; though the main part
Enter Rosse.

Pertains to you alone. Macd. See, who comes here?

Macd. If it be mine,
Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him not. Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. [ever,
Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for

Mal. I know him now.—Good God, betimes Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound
The means that make us strangers! [remove That ever yet they heard.
Rosse. Sir, amen.

Macd. Humph! I guess at it.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?

Rosse. Your castle is surpris'd; your wife and Rosse. Alas, poor country ;

Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner, (babes Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer, Becall'dour mother, but our grave: where nothing, To add the death of you. But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;

Mal. Merciful heaven!Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rend What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows, the air,

| Give sorrow wor<: the grief, that does not speaki, Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow scems Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it braak. A modern ecstacy; the dead man's knell

Macd. My children too?
Is there scarce ask'd, for who; and good men's Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all
Expire before the flowers in their caps, [lives That could be found.
Dying or ere they sicken.

Macd. And I must be from thence
Macd. O, relation,

My wife kill'd too? Too nice, and yet too true!

Rosse. I have said. Mal. What is the newest grief?

Mal. Be comforted : Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the Let's make us med’cines of our great revenge, Each minute teems a new one. (speaker ; To cure this deadly grief. Macd. How does my wife?

Macd. He has no children.—All my pretty ones? Rosse. Why, well.

Did you say all?-0, hell-kite!-AL! Macd. And all my children?

What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam, Rosse. Well, too.

At one fell swoop?
Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? Mal. Dispute it like a man.
Rosse. No; they were well at peace, when I did Macd. I shall do so ;
leave them.

[goes it? But I must also feel it as a man :) Macd. Be not a niggurd of your speech. How cannot but remember such things were, on, Rosse. When I came hither to transport the 'That were most precious to me.—Did heaven look tidings

And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour They were all struck for thee! naught that I am, Of many worthy fellows that were out;

Not for their own demerits, but for mine, (now. Which was to my belief witness'd the rather, Fell slaughter on their souls: Heaven rest therr For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot.

Mai. Be this the whetstone of your sword: les Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland

grief Would create soldiers, make our women fight, Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. To doff their dire distresses.

Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes: Mal. Be it their comfort,

And braggart with my tongue! -But, gentle We are coming thither: gracious England hath heaven, Lent us good Siward, and ten thousand men ; Cut short all intermission; front to front, An older, and a better soldier, none,

Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself; That Christendom gives out.

Within my sword's length sct him; if he 'scape, Rosse. Would I could answer

Heaven forgive him too! This comfort with the like! But I have words, Mal. This tune goes manly. That would be lowl'd out in the desert air, Come, go we to the king; our power is ready; Where hearing should not latch them.

Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth Macd. What concern they?

Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above (may; The general cause? or is it a fee-grief,

Put on their instruments. Receive what checr you Due to some single breast?

The night is long, that never finds the day. (exeunts




have seen her rise from her bed, throw her night. Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a waiting Gentle gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper,

fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards seal il, Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but and again, return to bed; yet all this while io a ran perceive no truth in your report. When was most fast sleep. it she last walked?

Doct. A great perturbation in nature! to receiro Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I l at once the benefit of slecp, and do the effects of





watching. In this slumbry agitation, besides her | More needs she the divine, than the physician.--walking, and other actual performances, what, at God, God, forgive us all! Look after her; any time, have you heard her say?

Remove from her the means of all annoyance. Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her. And still keep eyes upon her:--So, good night

Doct. You may, to me: and 'tis most meet you My mind she has mated, and amaz’d my sight: should.

I think, but dare not speak. Gent. Neither to you, nor any one; having no Gent. Good night, good doctor. [ereunt, witness to confirm my speech. Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper.

Enter, with drum and colours, Menteth, Cathness, Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise ;

Angus, Lenor, and Soldiers. and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; Ment. The English power is near, led on by stand close.

Malcolm, Doct. How came she by that light?

His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff. Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by Revenges burn in them: for their dear causes her continually; 'tis her command.

Would, to the bleeding, and the grim alarm, Doct. You see, her eyes are open.

Excite the mortified man, Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.

Ang. Near Birnam wood

(coming Doct. What is it she does now? Look, low Shall we well meet them; that way are thry she rubs her hands.

Cath. Who knows, if Donalbain be with his Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to

brother? seem thus washing her hands; I have known her Len. For certain, sir, he is not: I have a fle continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Of all the gentry; there is Siward's sou, Lady M. Yet here's a spot.

And many unrough youths, that even now Doct. Hark, she speaks: I will set down what Protest their first of manhood. comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the Ment. What does the tyrant? more strongly.

Cath. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies : Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say !_One; Some say, he's mad; others, that lesser hate hiin, two; Why, then, 'tis time to do't: Hell is murky! Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,

- Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afеard? What He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
need we fear who knows it, when none can call Within the belt of rule.
our power to account?-Yet who would have Ang. Now does he feel
thought the old man to have so much blood in him? His secret murders stioking on his hands;
Doct. Do you mark that?

Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-brench; Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife. Where Those he commands, move only in command, is sho now?-What, will these hands ne'er be Nothing in love; now does he feel his title clean?—No more o'that, my lord, no more o'that: Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe you mar all with this starting.

Upon a dwarfish thief. Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you Ment. Who shall then blame should not.

His pester'd senses to recoil, and start, Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am When all that is within him does condemn sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known. Itself, for being there?

Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still! all Cath. Well, march we on, the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd. hand. Oh! oh! oh!

(charged. Meet: we the medecin of the sickly weal; Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely And with him pour we, in our country's purge,

Gent. I would not have such a heart in my Each drop of us. bosom, for the dignity of the whole body.

Len. Or so much as it needs, Doct. Well, well, well,

To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds. Gent. Pray God it be, sir.

Make we our march towards Birnam. Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: yet

[exeunt, marching. I have known those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds,

Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants. Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your night- Macb. Bring me no more reports; let them fly gown; look not so pale:--I tell you yet again, 'Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane, (all; Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his grave. I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm? Doct. Even so?

Was he not born of woman? The spirits that kuow Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at All mortal consequents, pronounc'd me thus:

Come, come, come, come, give me your Fear not, Macbeth, no man, that's born of woman', hand. What's done, cannot be undone: to bed, Shall e'er have power on thee.— Then fiy, false to bed, to bed.

(exit Lady Macbeth. And mingle with the English epicures: (thanes, Doct. Will she go now to bed ?

The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear, Gent. Directly.

[deeds Shall never sags with doubt, nor shake with fear. Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural

Enter a Servant. Do breed unnatural troubles. Infected minds The devil damn thee black, thou creani-fuc'd loon; To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets Where got'st thou that goose look ?



the gate.


Serv. There is ten thousand-
Macb. Geese, villain?


Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old Siwars Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, and his Son, Macduff, Menteth, Cathness, Angus, Thou lilly-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch? Lenox, Rosse, and Soldiers, marching. Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine Mal. Cousins, I hope, the days are near at hand, Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face? That chambers will be safe. Serv. The English force, so please you.

Ment. We doubt it nothing. Macb. Take thy face bence.--Seyton!—I am sick Siw. What wood is this before us? at heart,

Ment. The wood of Birnam. When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push Mal. Let every soldier hew him down a bough, Wil cheer me ever, or disseat me now.

And bear't before him; thereby shall we shadow I have liv'd long enough: my way of life The numbers of our host, and make discovery Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf:

Err in report of us. And that which should accompany old age,

Sold. It shall be done. As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, Siw. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath Our setting down before't. Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare Mal. 'Tis his main hope: Seyton !

(not. For where there is advantage to be given, Enter Seyton.

Both more and less hath given him the revolt; Sey. What is your gracious pleasure ?

And none serve with him but constrained things, Macb. What news more?

Whose hearts are absent too. Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was Macd. Let our just censures reported.

Attend the true event, and put we on
Macb. I'll fight, till from my bones my filesh be Industrious soldiership.

Siw. The time approaches,
Give me my armour.

That will with due decision make us know Sey. 'Tis not needed yet.

What we shall say we have, and what we owe. Macb. I'll put it on.

Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate; Send out more horses, skirr the country round; But certain issue strokes must arbitrate: Haug those that talk of fear.—Give me mine Towards which, advance the war.[exeunt,marching. armour,

DUNSINANE, WITHIN THE CASTLE, How does your patient, doctor?

Enter, with drums and colours, Macbeth, Seyton, Doct. Not so sick, my lord,

and soldiers. As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward That keep her from her rest.

walls; Macb. Cure her of that:

The cry is still, They come: Our castle's strength Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased; Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; 'Till famine, and the ague, eat them up. Raze out the written troubles of the brain; Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours, And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,

We might bave met them dareful, beard to beard, Cleanse the stuff d bosom of that perilous stuff And beat them backward home. What is that noise? Which weighs upon the heart?

+ [a cry within, of women. Doct. Therein the patient

Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. Must minister to himself.

Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears: Macb. Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of the time has been, my senses would have cool'd it

To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff:- Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir Seyton, send out.--Doctor, thethanes fly from me:-- As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors; Come, sir, despatch:-If thou couldst, doctor, cast Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, The water of my land, find her disease,

Cannot once start me.- Wherefore was that cry? And purge it to a sound and pristine health, Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. I would applaud thee to the very echo,

Macb. She should have died hereafter; That should applaud again.—Pull't off, I say.- There wuuld bave been a time for such a word. What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Would scour these English hence?-Hearest thou Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, of them?

To the last syllable of recorded time; Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation And all our yesterdays, have lighted fools Makes us hear something.

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle Dlacb. Bring it after me.

Life's but a walking shadow: a poor player, I will not be afraid of death and bane,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, 'Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. [exit. And then is heard no morc: it is a tale

Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Profit again should hardly draw me here. [exit. Signifying nothing.






Enter a Messenger.

Macb. Thou wast born of woman.Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Mess. Gracious my lord,

Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. (erit I shall report that which I



Alarums. Enter Macduff.
But know not how to do it.

Macd. That way the noise is :-Tyrant, show Macb. Well, say, sir.

thy face: Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine, I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought, My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still. The wood began to move.

I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms Macb. Liar, and slave!

(striking him. Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thoú, Macbeth, Mess. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so: Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,' Within this three mile may you see it coming; I sheath again undeeded. There thou should'st be; I say, a moving grove.

By this great clatter, one of greatest note Macb. If thou speak'st false,

Seems bruited: Let me find him, fortune! Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, And more I beg not.

(erit; alarum. 'Till famine cling thee: if thy specch be sooth,

Enter Malcolm and old Siward. I care not if thou dust for me as much.

Six. This way, my lord ;—the castle's gently I pull in resolution; and begin

render'd : To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,

The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
That lies like truth: Fear not, till Birnam wood The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
Do come to Dunsinane;—and now, a wood The day almost itself professes yours,
Comes toward Dunsinane.--Arm, arm, and out! And little is to do.
If this, which he arouches, does appear,

Mal. We have met with foes
There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here. That strike beside us.
I'gin to be a-weary of the sun,

Siw. Enter, sir, the castle. [ercunt; alarums. And wish the estatc o'the world were now un

Re-enter Macbeth. done. —

Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and Ring the alarum bell:-- Blow, wind! come, wrack!

die At least we'll die with harness on our back. [ereunt. On my own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes

Do better upon them.

Re-enter Macduff. Enter, with drums and colours, Malcolm, old Siward, Macd. Turn, hell-hound, turn!

Macduf, 8c. and their army, with boughs. Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee Mal. Now near enough; your leafy screens But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd throw down,

With blood of thine already. And show like those you are.—You, worthy uncle,

Macd. I have no words, Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son, My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff, and we, Than terms can give thee out ! (they fight. Shall take upon's what else remains to do,

Macb. Thou losest labour : According to our order.

As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air Siw. Fare you well.

With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, Let fall thy blade un vulnerable crests; Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. (all breath, I bear a charmed life, which must not yield

Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them To one of woman born. Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. Macd. Despair thy charm; [ereunt ; alarums continued. And let the angel, whom thou still hast servd,

Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb

Untimely ripp'd.
Enter Macbeth.

Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tells me sy
Macb. They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
But, bear-like, I must fight the course. -What's And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
"That was not born of woman? Such a one (he, That palter with us in a double sense ;
Am I to fear, or none.

That kcep the word of promise to our ear,
Enter young Siwand

And break it to our hope.—I'll not fight with thee. Y. Siw. What is thy name?

Macd. Then yield thee, coward, Macb. Thou'lt be afr to hear it.

And live to be the show and gaze o'the time. Y. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter We'll have thec, as our rarer monsters are, Than any is in hell.

(name Painted upon a pole; and underwrit, Macb. My name's Macbeth.

Here may you see the tyrant. Y. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce

Macb. I'll not yield, More hateful to mine ear.

(a title 'To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet Macb. No, nor more fearful.

And to be baited with the rabble's curse. Y. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, I'll prove the lie thou spcak'st.

(sword And thou oppos'd, being of no woman boro, (they fight, and young Siward is slain. | Yet I will try the last. Before my body



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