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That struts and frets his hour upon the Stage;
And then is heard no more! It is a Tale,
Told by an ideot, full of found and fury,
Signifying nothing !

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

Mej. My gracious lord,
I should report That which, I say, I saw,
But know not how to do't.

Macb. Well, say it, Sir.

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

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

Macb. If thou speak’st, false, Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, 'Till famine cling thee: If thy speech be footh, I care not, If thou dost 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 DunGnane, and now a wood Comes towards Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out ! If this, which he avouches, does appear, There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here, I'gin to be a weary of the Sun; And with, the state o'th' world were now undone. Ring the alarum Bell; blow, wind ! come, wrack ! At leaít, we'll die with harness on our back. [Exeunt.

S CE N E VI.

Before DUNSINANE. Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, and their Army

with Boughs. row, near enough: your leavy screens

And

Mal. No throw down,

And shew like those you are. You (worthy uncle)
Shall with my Cousin, your right-noble son,
Lead our first battle. Brave Macduff and we
Shall take upon’s what else remains to do,
According to our order.

Siw. Fare you well:
Do We but find the Tyrant's Power to night,
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. [breath,

Macd. Make all our trumpets speak, give them all Those clam'rous harbingers of blood and death. (Exe.

[Alarums continued. Enter Macbeth. Macb. They've tyd me to a fake, 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? Macb. Thou'lt be afraid to hear it. [name,

Yo. Siw. No: though thou call'st thyself a hotter Than

any

is in hell. Macb. My name's Macbeth.

[title Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce a More hateful to mine ear. Macb. No, nor more fearful.

[sword Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred Tyrant; with my I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. [Fight, and young Siward's Nain.

. Macb. Thou wast born of woman; But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, 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 : Or thou, Macbeth, Or else my sword with an unbatter'd edge

I fheath

I sheath again undeeded. There thou should' it be-
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not.

Exit. Alarm. ,
Enter Malcolm and Siward.
Siw. This way, my lord, the Castle's gently ren-
The 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.

Mal. We've met with foes, That strike beside us. Siw. Enter, Sir, the Castle. (Exeunt, Alarm.

S CE N E VII.

Enter Macbeth. Wiacb. HY should I play the Roman fool, and die

Biach. W

Do better upon them.

[galhes To him, enter Macduff. Macd. 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've no words;
My voice is in my sword! thou bloodier villain,
Than terms can give thee out.

[Fight. Alarm.
Macb. Thou losest labour;
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

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 shew, and gaze o' th' time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and under-writ,
Here may you see the tyrant.

Macb. I will 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 Dunfinane,
And thou, oppos'd, be 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 he, that first cries, hold, enough.

[Exeunt fighting, Alarms.
S C E N E VIII.
Retreat and flourish. Enter with Drum and Colours,
Malcolm, Siward, Roise, Thanes and Soldiers.
Would, the friends, we miss, were safe ar-

riv'd. Siw. Some must go off: and yet, by these I see, So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

Mol. Macduff is missing, and your noble for.

Koffe. Your fon, 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 fiation where he fought,
But like a man he dy'd.

Siw. Then is he dead ?
Roffe. Ay, and brought off the field : your cause

of sorrow
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
It hath no end.

Malo

Siw. Had he his hurts before ?
Rose. Ay, on the front.

Siw. 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. He's worth more sorrow,
And that I'll spend for him.

Siw. He's worth no more ; They say, he parted well, and paid his score. So, God be with him!-Here comes newer comfort.

Enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head.
Macd. Hail, King! for so thou art. Behold, where

stands
Th' Usurper's cursed head; the time is free:
I see thee compaft with thy Kingdom's Peers,
That speak my falutation in their minds :
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine;
Hail, King of Scotland !
All. Hail, King of Scotland !

(Flourish.
Mal. We shall not spend a large expence of time,
Before we reckon with your sev'ral loves,
And make us even with you. 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 elfe
That calls upon us, by the grace of God,
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,

3- [Flourish. Excunt omnes The End of the Seventh Volume.

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