SCENE VII. The Gates of the Castle at Dunsinane. Alarums. Enter Macbeth. Mach. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better upon them. 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 have no words, My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain Macb. Thou losest labour: [Fight.-Alarums. As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: I bear a charmed life, which must not yield Macd. Despair thy charm; And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd, 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, And break it to our hope.—I'll not fight with thee. Macd. Then yield thee, coward, And live to be the show and gaze o'the time. 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 Dunsinane, Lay on, Macduff; And damn'd be him that first cries, "Hold! enough!" And now I wake to darkness, guilt, and horror.— Flourish of Trumpets and Drums—Shout, &c. [Dies. Enter Malcolm, Rosse, Lenox, Siward, GenTlemen, and Soldiers. Macd. Hail, King! for so thou art: the time is free: I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl, Hail, King of Scotland! All. King of Scotland, hail! Flourish of Trumpets and Drums. Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time, Before we reckon with your several loves, And make us even with you. My thanes and kills men, Henceforth be Earls, the first that ever Scotland [Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.—Exeunt. THE END. |