SCENE I.-Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a waiting Gentle

woman.

Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?

Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

Doct. A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In this slumbery agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances, what at any time have you heard her say?

Gent. That, sir, which I will not repeat after

Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her to seem thus washing her hands: I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Lady M. Yet here's a spot.

Doct. Hark! she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say!One; two: why, then 'tis time to do't.-Hell is murky!-Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?-Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?

Doct. Do you mark that?

Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife: where is she now?-What, will these hands ne'er be clean?-No more o' that, my lord; no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.

Doct. Go to, go to: you have known what you should not.

Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known.

Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!

Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.

Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom, for the dignity of the whole body.

Doct. Well, well, well,

Gent. Pray God, it be, sir.

Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: yet I

who have died holily in their beds.

SCENE II.-The Country near Dunsinane. Enter, with Drum and Colours, MENTETH, CATHNESS, ANGUS, LENOX, and Soldiers.

Ment. The English power is near, led on by
Malcolm,

His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
Would, to the bleeding and the grim alarm,
Excite the mortified man.
Ang.
Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them: that way are they coming.
Cath. Who knows, if Donalbain be with his
brother?

Len. For certain, sir, he is not. I have a file
Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son,
And many unrough youths, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.

Ment.
What does the tyrant?
Cath. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies.
Some say, he's mad: others, that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant fury; but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.

Ang.
Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach:
Those he commands move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.

SCENE III.-Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.

Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants. Macb. Bring me no more reports; let them fly all:

Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,

I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm? Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know All mortal consequences have pronounc'd me thus:

"Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman Shall e'er have power upon thee."-Then fly, false thanes,

And mingle with the English epicures:
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sag with doubt, nor shake with fear.

Serv.
Soldiers, sir.
Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
Serv. The English force, so please you.
Macb. Take thy face hence.-Seyton !-I am
sick at heart,

When I behold-Seyton, I say!-This push
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
I have liv'd long enough: my way of life
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Seyton!-

Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff.-
Seyton, send out.--Doctor, the thanes fly from me.--
Come, sir, despatch.-If thou couldst, doctor, cast
The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,
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?

Doct. Ay, my good lord: your royal preparation Makes us hear something.

Macb.

[Exit.

Bring it after me.I will not be afraid of death and bane, Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here. [Erit.

It shall be done.

For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less have given him the revolt,
Whose hearts are absent too.
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Macd.
Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.

Siw.
The time approaches,
That will with due decision make us know
What we shall say we have, and what we owe.
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate,
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate;
Towards which, advance the war.

[Exeunt, marching.

SCENE V.-Dunsinane. Within the Castle.

Our setting down before't.

Mal.

"Tis his main hope;

TON, and Soldiers.