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Enter young Seyward.

Y. Sey. What is thy name?

Mach. Thou 'It be afraid to hear it..

r. Sey. No, though thou call'ft thyfelf a hotter name is in hell.

Than any

Macb. My name 's Macbeth.

r. Sey. The devil himself could not pronounce a title More hateful to mine ear.

Mach. No, nor more fearful.

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r. Sey. Thou lieft, abhorred Tyrant; with my fword I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

Fight, and young Seyward is flain.

Mach. Thou waft born of woman.

But fwords I finile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandifh'd by man that 's of a woman born.

Alarums. Enter Macduff.

Macd. That way the noife is.

[Exit.

Tyrant, fhew thy face;
If thou be'ft flain, and with no ftroke of mine,
My wife and children's ghofts will haunt me ftill.
I cannot ftrike at wretched Kernes, whose arms
Are hir'd to bear their ftaves; either thou, Macbeth,
Or elfe my fword with an unbatter'd edge

I fheath again undeeded. There thou Thould'st be—.
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune,
And more I beg not.

[Exit. Alarums.

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Enter Malcolm and Seyward.

Sey. This way, my Lord; the caftle 's gently rendred;

The Tyrant's people on both fides do fight;

The noble Thanes do bravely in the war;

X

The day almost itself professes yours,

And little is to do.

Mal. We have met with foes,

That ftrike befide us.

Sey. Enter, Sir, the caftle.

Enter Macbeth.

[Exeunt. Alarum.

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

To him, enter Macduff.

Macd. Turn, hell-hound, turn.

Mach. Of all men elfe I have avoided thee.

But get thee back, my foul is too much charg'd
With blood of thine already.

Macd. I have no words;

My voice is in my fword! Thou bloodier villain,

Than terms can give thee out.

Mach. Thou lofeft labour;

As eafy may'st thou the intrenchant air

[Fight. Aarum.

With thy keen fword imprefs, as make me bleed:

Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crefts,

I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.

Macd. Defpair thy charm,

X J. profefes itself yours, &c.

y R. and all after, except C. Wbilf.

1

And let the Angel, whom thou ftill haft ferv'd,
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ript.

Mach. Accurfed be that tongue that tells me fo,
For it hath cow'd my better part of man;
And be thefe juggling fiends no more believ❜d,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promife 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 fhew 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."
Mach. I will not yield,

To kifs the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.

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Though Birnam wood be come to Dunfinane,
And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the laft.

Before my body

I throw my warlike fhield.

a

Lay on, Macduff;

And damn'd be he, that first cries, “

Hold, enough." [Exeunt fighting. Alarums,

:

2 T. W. and J. be for being.

The fo's, R. and C. bim for be

SCENE

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Retreat and flourish. Enter, with Drum and Colours, Malcolm, Seyward, Roffe, Thanes, and Soldiers.

Mal. I would the friends we mifs were fafe arriv'd.

Sey. Some must go off; and yet, by these I see,

So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

Mal. Macduff is miffing, and your noble fon.

Roffe. Your fon, my Lord, Has paid a foldier's debt

He only liv'd but 'till he was a man,

The which no fooner had his prowess confirm'd,

In the unfhrinking station where he fought,

But like a man he dy'd.

Sey. Then he is dead?

Roffe. Ay, and brought off the field. Your caufe of

forrow

Muft not be meafur'd by his worth, for then

It hath no end.

Sey. Had he his hurts before?

Roffe. Ay, on the front.

Sey. Why then, God's foldier be he!

Had I as many fons as I have hairs;

The fo's and R. here infert the following direction, Enter fighting, and Macbeth flain; which supposes Macbeth and Macduff to re-enter, and end their duel upon the stage. If we allow this Drestion, we must also put in another;

1 2

and either make the curtain fall, or exit Macdiff, and the body of Macbeth carried off, before Malcolm, &c. enter.

c P. and all after, except C. is be for

be is.

I would

I would not wifh them to a fairer death.

And fo his knell is knoll'd.

Mal. He's worth more forrow;

And that I'll spend for him.

Sey. He's worth no more;

They fay, he parted well, and paid his fcore.

And fo God be with him!-Here comes newer comfort. Enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head.

Macd. Hail, King! for fo thou art. Behold, where ftands

Th' Ufurper's curfed head. The time is free;

e

I fee thee compaft with thy kingdom's pearl,

That speak my falutation in their minds,

Whofe voices I defire aloud with mine;

Hail, King of Scotland!

All. Hail, King of Scotland!

[Flourish.

Mal. We fhall not spend a large expence of time, Before we reckon with your feveral loves,

f

And make us even with you. My Thanes and kinfmen,

Henceforth be Earls, the first that ever Scotland.
In fuch 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 fnares of watchful tyranny,
Producing forth the cruel minifters

Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like Queen,

P. and all after, except C. omit 1ft and 2d, pearle; the rest, peers for

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