Seyton. 'Tis not needed yet. Macbeth. I'll put it on. Send out moe horses; skirr the country round; Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour. How does your patient, doctor?>* Doctor. Not so sick, my lord, As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, That keep her from her rest. Cure her of that. Macbeth. Doctor. Must minister to himself. Therein the patient Macbeth. Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it. And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, 40 50 That should applaud again. Pull't off, I say. What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of them? Doctor. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation Makes us hear something. Macbeth. Bring it after me. I will not be afraid of death and bane Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. бо Doctor. [Aside.] Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Country near Birnam wood. Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, old SIWARD and his Son, MACDUFF, Menteith, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, Ross, and Soldiers, marching. Malcolm. Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand That chambers will be safe. Menteith. Siward. What wood is this before us? Menteith. We doubt it nothing. The wood of Birnam. Malcolm. Let every soldier hew him down a bough Siward. We learn no other but the confident tyrant Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure Our setting down before 't. Malcolm. 'Tis his main hope: ΙΟ For where there is advantage to be given, Macduff. Let our just censures Attend the true event, and put we on Industrious soldiership. Siward. The time approaches That will with due decision make us know 20 [Exeunt, marching. SCENE V. Dunsinane. Within the castle. Enter MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers, with Macbeth. Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is still 'They come': our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie Till famine and the ague eat them up: Were they not forced with those that should be ours, [A cry of women within. What is that noise? Seyton. It is the cry of women, my good lord. As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors; [Exit. ΙΟ Re-enter SEYTON. Wherefore was that cry? Seyton. The queen, my lord, is dead. Macbeth. She should have died hereafter; 20 Enter a Messenger. Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. Messenger. Gracious my lord, I should report that which I But know not how to do it. Macbeth. say I saw, Well, say, sir. Messenger. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought, The wood began to move. Macbeth. Liar and slave! Messenger. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so: Within this three mile may you see it coming; I say, a moving grove. Macbeth. If thou speak'st false, Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth, 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 Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out! There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. I 'gin to be aweary of the sun,. And wish the estate o' the world were now undone. SCENE VI. Dunsinane. Before the castle. 30 40 50 [Exeunt. Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, old SIWARD, MACDUff, and their Army, with boughs. Malcolm. Now near enough: your leavy screens throw down, And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle, Shall with my cousin, your right-noble son, Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, 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. SCENE VII. Another part of the field. Alarums. Enter MACBETH. [Exeunt. Macbeth. 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. Enter young SIWARD. Young Siw. What is thy name? Thou 'lt be afraid to hear it. Young Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name Than any is in hell. Macbeth. My name's Macbeth. Young Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce a title More hateful to mine ear.. Macbeth. No, nor more fearful. 9 Young Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. Macbeth. [They fight, and young Siward is slain. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Alarums. Enter MACDUFF. [Exit. Macduff. That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face! If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine, |