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Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,.' We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, And beat them backward home. What is that noise ?

[A Cry within of Women. Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.

Mac. I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have coolid To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir As life were in't: I have supt full with horrors; 230 Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me. Wherefore was that cry? *Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.

Mac. She should have dy'd hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! 240
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour

And then is heard no more : it is a tale
Told by an ideot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.--

the stage,

Enter a Messenger.
Thou com'st to use thy tongue : thy story quickly..

Mes. Gracious my lord,
I should report that which, I say I saw,


But know not how to do't.
Mac. Well, say, sir.

Mes. As I did stand my watch upon tļie hill,
I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.
Mac. Liar, and slave !

[Striking him. Mes. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so: Within this three mile may you see it coiping; say, a moving grove.

Mac. If thou speak'st false, Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, 'Till fainine cling thee : if thy speech be sooth, 260 I care not if thou do'st for me as much.-I pull in resolution; and begin To doubt the equivocation of the fiend, That lies like truth : Fear not, 'till Birnam wood Do come to Dunsinane !--and now a wood Comes toward Dunsinane.--Arm, arm, and out! If this, which he avouches, does appear, There is no flying hence, nor tarrying here. I gin to be a-weary of the sun,

269 And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.-Ring the alarum bell :--Blow, wind!

come, wrack ! At least we'll dię with harness on our back. [Excunt,



Drum and Colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MAC

DUFF, and their Army, with Boughs. Mal. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw

down, And shew like those you are:-You, worthy uncle, Shall, with my cousin, your right noble son, Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff, and we, Shall take upon us what else remains to do, According to our order. Siw. Fare


well. Do we but find the tyrant's power tò-night, 280 Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them all

breath, Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.

[Exeunt. Alarums continued.



Mac. They have ty'd me to a stake; I cannot fly, But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What's he, That was not born of woman? Such a one Am I to fear, or none.



Enter Young SIWARD.
Yo. Siw. What is thy name?

Mac. Thou'lt be afraid to hear it. -1. Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter

290 Than any is in hell.

Mac. My name's Macbeth.
Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce a

More hateful to mine car.

Mac. No, nor more fearful.
Ya. Siw. Thgų liest, abhorred tyrant; with my

I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

[Fight; and Young SIWARD is slain. Mac. Thou wast born of woman. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, 299 Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. [Exit.

Alarums. Enter MACDUFF.

Macd. That way the noise is :-Tyrant, shew thy

face; If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine, My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still. I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou Macbeth, Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge, I sheath again undeeded. There thou should'st be ; By this great clatter, one of greatest note..



Seems bruited: Let me find him, fortune! and
More I beg not. [Exit. Alaram.

310 Enter MALCOLM and Old SIWARD. Siw. This way, my lord ;-the castle's gently ren.

der'd :
The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
The day almost itself professes yours,
And little is to do.

Mal. We have met with foes
That strike beside us.
Siw. Enter, sir, the castle. [Exeunt. Alarum.

Re-enter MACBETH.

Mac. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword ? whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better



Re-enter MACDUFF.

Macd. Turn, hell-hound, turn.

Mac. Of all men else I have avoided thee : But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd With blood of thine already.

Maed. I have no words,'
My voice is in my sword : thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out! [Fight. Alarum.

Mac. Thou losest labour :
As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air

339 With thy keen sword impress, as mąkę me bleed :


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