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In my voluptuousness : your wives, your daughters, The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
Unknown to woman; never was forsworn; All continent impediments would o'er-bear, Scarcely have coveted what was mine own; That did oppose my will : Better Macbeth, At no time broke my faith; would not betray Than such a one to reign.
The devil to his fellow; and delight
No less in truth, than life : my first false speaking In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
Was this upon myself: What I am truly, The untimely emptying of the happy throne, Is thine, and my poor country's, to command: And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach, To take upon you what is yours: you may
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men, Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, All ready at a point, was setting forth : And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood-wink. Now we'll together ; And the chance, of goodness, We have willing dames enough; there cannot be Be like our warranted quarrel ! Why are you silent? That vulture in you, to devour so many
Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things at As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
once, Finding it so inclin'd.
**Tis hard to reconcile. Mal.
With this there grows, In my most ill-compos'd affection, such
Enter a Doctor. A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,
Mal. Well; more anon. — Comes the king forth, I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
I pray you? Desire his jewels, and this other's house :
Doct. Ay, sir : there are a crew of wretched souls, And my more-having would be as a sauce
That stay his cure : their malady convinces To make me hunger more; that I should forge The great assay of art ; but, at his touch, Quarrels unjust against the good, and loyal, Such sanctity hath heaven given in his hand, Destroying them for wealth.
They presently amend. Macd.
I thank you, doctor. Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Than summer-seeding lust; and it hath been
Macd. What's the disease he means? The sword of our slain kings : Yet do not fear;
'Tis call’d the evil Scotland bath foysons to fill up your will,
A most miraculous work in this good king : of your mere own : All these are portable, Which often, since my here-remain in England, With other graces weigh’d.
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven, Mal. But I have none : The king-becoming
Himself best knows : but strangely-visited people graces,
All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures ; Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
Put on with holy prayers : and 'tis spoken, I have no relish of them ; but abound
To the succeeding royalty he leaves In the division of each several crime,
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy ; Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
And sundry blessings hang about his throne, Uproar the universal peace, confound
That speak him full of grace.
See, who comes here? I am as I have spoken.
Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him not. Macd. Fit to govern!
Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. No, not to live. O nation miserable,
Mal. I know him now : Good God, betimes reWith an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd, When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again? The means that make us strangers ! Since that the truest issue of thy throne
Rosse. By his own interdiction stands accurs'd,
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did ? And does blaspheme his breed? - Thy royal father Rosse.
Alas, poor country; Was a most sainted king: the queen, that bore thee, Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet,
Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where nothing, Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile ; These evils, thou repeat'st upon thyself,
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the Have banish'd me from Scotland. - O, my breast,
air, Thy hope ends here !
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems Mal.
Macduff, this noble passion, A modern ecstacy; the dead man's knell Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Is there scarce ask'd, for who; and good men's lives
What is the newest griet? Deal between thee and me! for even now
Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the I put myself to thy direction, and
speaker; Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure Lach minute teeins a new one.
How does my wife ? | What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; Rüsse. Why, well.
Give sorrow words: the grief, that does not speak, Macd.
And all my children ? Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break. Rosse.
Macd. My children too? Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their Rosse.
Wife, children, servants, all peace?
That could be found. Rasse. No; they were well at peace, when I did Macd.
And I must be from thence ! leave them.
My wife kill'd too?
I have said.
Be comforted : Rosse. When I came hither to transport the Let's make us med'eines of our great revenge, tidings,
To cure this deadly grief.
All my pretty Of many worthy fellows that were out;
What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam,
I shall do so ; Mal.
Be it their comfort, But I must also feel it as a man : We are coming thither : gracious England hath I cannot but remember such things were, Lent us good Siward, and ten thousand men ; That were most precious to me. - Did heaven look An older, and a better soldier, none
on, That Christendom gives out.
And would not take their part ? Sinful Macduff, Rosse.
'Would I could answer They were all struck for thee! naught that I am, This comfort with the like! But I have words, Not for their own demerits, but for mine, That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Fell slaughter on their souls: Heaven rest them Were hearing should not latch them.
now ! Macd.
What concern they ? Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword : let The general cause ? or is it a fee-grief,
grief Due to some single breast?
Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. Rasse.
No mind, that's honest, Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine But in it shares some woe; though the main part
eyes, Pertains to you alone.
And braggart with my tongue !
But gentle Mace. If it be mine,
heaven, Kæp it not from me, quickly let me have it. Cut short all intermission; front to front, Russe. Let not your ears despise my tongue for Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself ; ever,
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, Heaven forgive him too! That ever yet they heard.
This tune goes manly. Macd.
Humph! I guess at it. Come, go we to the king; our power is ready; Rosse. Your castle is surpriz'd; your wife, and Our lack is nothing but our leave : Macbeth babes,
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Saragely slaughter'd: to relate the manner, Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you Were , on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
may; To all the death of you.
The night is long, that never finds the day,
SCENE I. – Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. walking and other actual performances, what, at
any time, have you heard her say? Enter a Doctor of Physick, and a waiting
Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her. Gentlewoman.
Doct. You may, to me; and 'tis most meet you
should. Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but Gent. Neither to you, nor any one; having no can perceive no truth in your report. When was it witness to confirm my speech. she last walked? Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I
Enter Lady MACBETH, with a taper. lige seen her rise from her bed, throw her night-Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise ; Town upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her: stand fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards seal it, close. and again return to bed; yet all this while in a Doct. How came she by that light? mat fast sleep.
Gent. Why, it stood by ber : she has light by Datt. A great perturbation in nature ! to receive her continually; 'tis her command. at Goce the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of Doct. You see, her eyes are open. watching. – In this slumbry agitation, besides her Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.
Doct. What is it she does now ? Look how she | Would, to the bleeding, and the grim alarm, rubs her hands.
Excite the mortified man. Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to Ang.
Near Birnam wood seem thus washing her hands; I have known her Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming. continue in this a quarter of an hour.
Cath. Who, knows, if Donalbain be with his Lady M. Yet here's a spot.
brother? Doct. Hark, she speaks: I will set down what Len. For certain, sir, he is not : I have a file comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the Of all the gentry; there is Siward's son, more strongly.
And many unrough youths, that even now
What does the tyrant? Hell is murky! - Fye, my lord, fye! a soldier, Cath. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies : and afеard ? What need we fear who knows it, Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him, when none can call our power to account? - Yet Do call it valiant fury : but, for certain, who would have thought the old man to have had He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause so much blood in him?
Within the belt of rule. Doct. Do you mark that?
Now does he feel Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife; Where His secret murders sticking on his hands; is she now? What, will these hands ne'er be Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach ; clean ? - No more o'that, my lord, no more o'that : Those he commands, move only in command, you mar all with this starting
Nothing in love : now does he feel his title Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe should not.
Upon a dwarfish thief. Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I Ment.
Who then shall blame am sure of that : Heaven knows what she has His pester'd senses to recoil, and start, known.
When all that is within him does condemn Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still : all Itself, for being there? the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little Cath.
Well, march we on, hand. Oh! oh! oh!
To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd : Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely Meet we the medicin of the sickly weal : charged.
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.
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 I
SEreunt, marcking. have known those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.
SCENE III. -Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale : – I tell you yet again,
Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants. Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his Macb. Bring me no more reports; let them fly all; grave.
Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane, Doct. Even so ?
I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm? Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at Was he not born of woman?. The spirits that know the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your All mortal consequents pronounc'd me thus : hand; What's done, cannot be undone ; To bed, Fear not, Macbeth, no man, that's born of woman, to bed, to bed.
[Erit Lady MACBETH. Shall e'er have power on thee. Then fly, false thanes, Doct. Will she go now to bed ?
And mingle with the English epicures : Gent. Directly.
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear, Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad : Unnatural Shall never sagg with doubt, nor shake with fear.
deeds Do breed unnatural troubles : Infected minds
Enter a Servant. To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon More needs she the divine, than the physician, Where got'st thou that goose look ? God, God, forgive us all! Look after her ;
Serv. There is ten thousand Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
Geese, villain? And still keep eyes upon her : - So, good night : Serv.
Soldiers, sir. My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight : Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, I think, but dare not speak.
Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch? Gent.
Good night, good doctor. Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
(Exeunt. Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whes-face?
Serv. The English force, so please you. SCENE II. — The Country near Dunsinane. Macb. Take thy face hence.-Seyton - I am sick
at heart, Enter, with drum and colours, MENTETH, Cath
When I behold - Seyton, I say! -- Tliis push NESS, Angus, LENOx, and Soldiers.
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now. Ment. The English power is near, led on by I have liv'd long enough : my way of life Malcolm,
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf : His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
And that which should accompany old age, Revenges burn in them: for their dear causes As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Keeps still in Dansinane, and will endure
'Tis his main hope : Seyton !
For where there is advantage to be given, · Enter SEYTON.
Both more and less have given him the revolt ;
And none serve with him but constrained things, Sey. What is your gracious pleasure ?
Whose hearts are absent too.
Let our just censures Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was re- Attend the true event, and put we on ported.
Industriotis soldiership. Macé. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be Siw.
The time approaches, hack'd.
That will with due decision make us know Give me my armour.
What we shall say we have, and what we owe. 'Tis not needed yet. Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate ; Macb. I'll put it on.
But certain issue strokes must arbitraté :
(Exeunt, marching mour, How does your patient, doctor?
SCENE V. - Dunsinane. Within the Castle. Doct.
Not so sick, my lord, As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
Enter, with drums and colours, MACBETH, SEYTON,
anu! Soldiers. That keep her from her rest. Macb.
Cure her of that: Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;
walls; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
The cry is still, They come : Our castle's strength Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
Will laugh a siege to scorn: herr let them lie, And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Till famine, and the agile, eat them ur. Cleanse the stuff 'd bosom of that perilous stuff, Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours, Which weighs upon the heart?
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
Therein the patient And beat them backwara nome. What is that Must minister to himself.
(A cry wilhin, of women. Macke Throw physick to the dogs, I'll none of Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. it.
Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears : Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff: The time has been, my senses would have coolid Seyton, send out. — Doctor, the thanes fly from To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair me :
Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir Come, sir, despatch :-If thou could'st, doctor, cast As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors ; The water of my land, find her disease,
Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, Cannot once start me. - Wherefore was that cry? I would applaud thee to the very echo,
Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. That should applaud again. - Pull't off, I say. Macb. She should have died hereafter ; What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, There would have been a time for such a word. Would scour these English hence?
-- Hearest thou To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow of them?
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, Doet. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation To the last syllable of recorded time; Makes us hear something.
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools Macb.
Bring it after me. - The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! I will not be afraid of death and bane,
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
Doc. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Enter a Messenger. in view.
Thou com'st to use thy tongue ; thy story quickly. Exter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, old
Mess. Gracious my lord,
But know not how to do it.
Well, say, sir. Mal. Cousins, I hope, the days are near at hand, Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, That chambers will be safe.
I look toward Birnam, and anon, methought, Ment.
We doubt it nothing. The wood began to move. Six. What wood is this before us?
Liar, and slave!
If thou speak’st false, Sold. It shall be done.
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, Sæ. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant Till famine cling thee if thy speech be sooth,
I care not if thou dost for me as much.
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge, I pull in resolution ; and begin
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou should'st be; To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
By this great clatter, one of greatest note That lies like truth: Fear not, till Birnam wood Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune! Do come to Dunsinane ;- and now a wood
And more I beg not.
(Erit. Alaruta. Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and out! If this, which he avouches, does appear,
Enter MALCOLM and old SIWARD. There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here.
Siw. This way, my lord ; the castle's gently I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun,
[Exeunt. And little is to do.
We have met with foes
Enter, sir, the castle. Enter, with drums and colours, MALCOLM, old
Exeunt. Alarum. SIWard, MacDUFF, fc. and their Army, with
Re-enter MACBETH. boughs.
Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and Val. Now, near enough ; your leavy screens
die throw down,
On mine own sword ? whiles I see lives, the gashes And show like those you are :-You, worthy uncle, Do better upon them. Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son, Lead our first battle : worthy Macduff, and we,
Re-enter Macduff. Shall take upon us what else remains to do,
Turn, hell-hound, turn. According to our order.
Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee: Siw. Fare you well.
But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, With
blood of thine already. Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
I have no words, Macd. Make all our trumpets speak ; give them My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain all breath,
Than terms can give thee out ! [ They fight. Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. Macb.
Thou losest labour: [Exeunt. Alarums continued.
As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed : SCENE VII. The same. Another part of the Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests ; Plain.
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.
Despair thy charm; hiacb. They have tied me to a stake ; I cannot fly, | And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd, But, bear-like, I must fight the course. - What's he, Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb That was not born of woman ? Such a one Untimely ripp'd. Am I to fear, or none.
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, Yo. Sit. What is thy name?
That palter with us in a double sense ; Macb.
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it. That keep the word of promise to our ear, Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter And break it to our hope. - I'll not fight with thee.
Macd. Then yield thec, coward, Than any is in hell.
And live to be the show and gaze o'the time. Macb. My name's Macbeth.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, Yo.iw. The devil bimself could not pronounce Painted upon a pole; and underwrit, a title
Here may you see the tyrant. More hateful to mine ear.
I'll not yield,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant ; with my And to be baited with the rabble's curse. sword
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
And thou oppos’d, being of no woman born, [They fight, and yozing Siward is slain. Yet I will try the last : Before my body Macb.
Thou wast born of woman. - I throw my warlike shield : lay on, Macduff ; But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough. Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. (Exit.
(Ereunt, fighting Alarums. Enter MACDUFF.
Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter with drum and Macd. That way the noise is : - Tyrant, show
colours, Malcolm, old Stward, Rosse, LENOS, thy face :
Angus, CathNESS, MENTETH, and Soldiers. If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine, Mal. I would, the friends we miss were safe My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
arriv'd. I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms Siw. Some must go off; and yet, by these I see, Are hir'd to bear their staves ; either thou, Macbeth, So great a day as this is cheaply bouglas.