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I will not be afraid of death and bane,
[Exit. Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here. Exit.
Enter, with Drum and Colours, MALCOLM, old
SIWARD and his Son, MacDUFF, Menteri, CATHNESS, ANGUS, Lenox, Rosse, and Soldiers, marching.
Mal. Cousins, I hope, the days are near at hand, That chambers will be safe. Ment.
We doubt it nothing. Siw. What wood is this before us? Ment.
The wood of Birnam. Mal. Let every soldier hew him down a bough, And bear't before him; thereby shall we shadow The numbers of our host, and make discovery Err in report of us. Sold.
It shall be done.
'Tis his main hope:
Let our just censures
The time approaches,
That will with due decision make us know
Dunsinane. Within the Castle.
Enter, with Drums and Colours, Macbeth, Sey
TON, and Soldiers. Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward
walls; The cry is still, They come: Our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie, Till famine, and the ague, eat them up: Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours, We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, And beat them backward home. What is that
noise ? [A cry within, of Women.
Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.
the cry of (A cry with: What is th The time h have almos, women, mithin, of w.
arbitrate: ] i, e. determine.
There would have been a time for such a word.-
Enter a Messenger.
Well, say, sir.
Liar, and slave!
If thou speak'st false,
? Till famine cling thee:) Clung, in the Northern counties, signifies any thing that is shrivelled or shrunk up.
Comes toward Dunsinane.—Arm, arm, and out!-
Enter, with Drums and Colours, MALCOLM, old
SIWARD, MACDUFF, &c. and their Army, with
Fare you well. 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.
Exeunt. Alarums continued.
Enter young Siward.
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
name Than any is in hell. Macb.
My name's Macbeth.
No, nor more fearful.
[They fight, and young Siward is slain. Macb.
Thou wast born of woman.“ But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Brandish’d by man that's of a woman born. [Exit.
Alarums. Enter Macduff. 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.