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Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.

[Erit SEYTON. Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears; The time has been my senses would have coold To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me.

Enter SeyToN. Wherefore was that cry?

Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.

Macb. She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.-
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and— To-morrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to'day,
- To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour



And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an ideot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Enter FIRST Officer.
Thou com’st to use thy tongue: thy story quickly.

1 Off. Gracious my lord, I should report that which, I say, I saw, But know not how to do't.

Macb. Well, say, sir,
i Off. As I did stand


the hill, I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought, The wood began to move.

Macb. Liar and slave !
i Off. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:

Within this three mile may you see it coming ;
I say, a moving grove.

Macb. 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
Do come to Dunsinane :"-and now a wood
Comes towards Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and out!-
If this, which he avouches, does appear,
There is no flying hence, nor tarrying here.
I'gin to be a-weary of the sun,
And wish the state o’the world were now undone.
Ring the alarum bell :-Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At least, we'll die with harness on our back!

(Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.-Exeunt.


A Plain before the Castle at Dunsinane.


Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.

DIERS, with Boughs, discovered.
Mal. Now near enough ; your leavy screens throw

And show like those you are :-You, worthy uncle,
Shall, with my cousin, your right noble son,
Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff

, and we,
Shall take upon us what else remains to do,
According to our order.
Len. This way, my lord, the castle's gently ren-


Siw. 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.



A Court in the Castle at Dunsinane.



Macb. They have ty'd 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 MacDUFF and SOLDIERS. Macd. That way the noise is :--Tyrant, show thy

face; If thou be’st slain, and with no stroke of mine, My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still. I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou, Macbeth, Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge, I sheathe again undeeded, Let me find him, fortune! and More I beg not.



The Gates of the Castle at Dunsinane.


Enter MACBETH. Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword ? whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better




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
Than terms can give thee out!

Macb. Thou losest labour:
As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed :
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests ;
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.

Macd. Despair thy charm;
And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd,
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'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,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise 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 show and


o'the time. We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, Painted upon a pole; and under-write, “ Here you may see the tyrant.”

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, And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born, Yet I will try the last ;Lay on, Macduff; And damn'd be him that first cries,“ Hold! enough!"

[Alarums.They fight.-Macbeth falls. Macb. 'Tis done! the scene of life will quickly close. Ambition's vain delusive dreams are fled, And now I wake to darkness, guilt, and horror.I cannot rise :--I dare not ask for mercyIt is too late;—hell drags me down ;—Í sink, I sink ;-my soul is lost for ever!-Oh!



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Flourish of Trumpets and Drums-Shout, fc.


Macd. Hail, King! for so thou art: the time is

I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,
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,

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