SCENE VII.The same.

Another part of the

plain.

Enter MACBETH.

Macb. They have tied 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.

SIWARD.

Enter young Siward.

Yo. Sin. What is thy name?

Macb.

Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

Yo. Sin. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter

Than any is in hell.

[name

Macb Yo. Sin. The devil himself could not pronounce a More hateful to mine ear.

My name's Macbeth.

[title

No, nor more fearful.

Macb. Yo. Sin. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

[sword

[They fight, and young SIWARD is slain.
Thou wast born of woman.

Macb.
But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born.

Alarums. Enter MACDUff.

[Exit.

Macd. That way the noise is :-Tyrant, show thy
If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine, [face:
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 sheathe 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. Alarum.

either thou, Macbeth, must encounter me, Or else my

sword, &c.

Enter MALCOLM and old SIWARD.

Sin. This way, my lord;-the castle's gently renThe tyrant's people on both sides do fight; [der'd: The noble thanes do bravely in the war; The day almost itself professes yours,

And little is to do.

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

Macd.

Re-enter MACDUFF.

Turn, hell-hound, turn.

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

Macd.

I have no words, My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain

Than terms can give thee out!

[They fight.

Thou losest labour:

Macb.
As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air

With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed :
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;

I bear a charmed life, which must not yield

To one of woman born.

Macd.

Despair thy charm; And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd, Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb Untimely ripp'd.

Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, For it hath cow'd my better part of man!

And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That palter with us in a double sense;

That keep the word of promise to our ear,

And break it to our hope.-I'll not fight with thee.
Macd. Then yield thee, coward,

And live to be the show and gaze o' th' time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole;' and underwrit,

Here may you see the tyrant.

Macb.

I'll not yield,

To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last: Before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough.
[Exeunt, fighting.

Retreat Flourish. Re-enter, with drum and colours,
MALCOLM, old SIWARD, ROSSE, LENOX, ANGUS,
CATHNESS, MENTETH, and Soldiers.

Mal. I would, the friends we miss were safe arriv'd. Sin. Some must go off: and yet, by these I see, So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Rosse. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
He only liv'd but till he was a man;

The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,

But like a man he died.

Siw.

Then he is dead?

Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause

of sorrow

Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then

It hath no end.

Sin.

Had he his hurts before?

That is, on cloth suspended on a pole.

Rosse. Ay, on the front.

Sin.

Why then, God's soldier be he!

Had I as many sons as I have hairs,

I would not wish them to a fairer death.
And so his knell is knoll'd.

Mal.

And that I'll spend for him.
Sin.

He's worth more sorrow,

He's worth no more:

They say, he parted well, and paid his score:
So, God be with him!-Here comes newer comfort.
Re-enter MACDuff, with MacbeTH's head on a pole.
Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art: Behold, where
Th' usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,'
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,-
Hail, king of Scotland!

All.

Istands

King of Scotland, hail!

several loves,

[Flourish.
Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time,
Before we reckon with your
And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,
Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,—
As calling home our exil'd friends abroad,
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers

Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen;
Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
Took off her life;-This, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
We will perform in measure, time, and place:
So thanks to all at once, and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

'thy kingdom's wealth, or ornament, meaning the peers.

KING JOHN.