Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story,
Mess. Gracious my lord,
I should report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to do it.
Yo. Siw. No: though thou call'st thyself a
Then any is in hell.
[hotter name,
Macb.
My name's Macbeth.
Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pro-
More hateful to mine ear. [nounce a title.
Mach.
No, nor more fearful.
Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with
[thought, I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. [my sword
[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.
Well, say, sir. Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
I look'd towards Birnam, and anon, me-
The wood began to move.
Мась. Liar [Striking him.] and slave !
Mess. Let me endure your wrath, ift be not
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
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.
[arms
I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose
Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou,
Macbeth,
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge, Do come to Dunsinane;"—and now a wood I sheath again undeeded. There thou shouldst Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and By this great clatter, one of greatest note [be: If this which he avouches does appear, [out!-Seems bruited :-let me find him, fortune! There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here. And more I beg not. I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun, [undone.And wish th' estate o' the world were now Ring the alarum bell!-Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back.
[Exeunt. SCENE VI.-Dunsinane. A plain before the Castle. Enter, with drums and colours, Malcolm, Old Siward, Macduff, &c., and their army, with boughs.
Mal. Now near enough; your leafy screens throw down,
[Exit. Alarum.
Enter Malcolm and Old Siward.
Siw. This way, my lord:-The castle's
gently render'd:
The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
The day almost itself professes yours,
And little is to do.
And show like those you are.--You, worthy On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the
Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son, Do better upon them.
Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff, and we,
Shall take upon us what else remains to do,
According to our order.
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.
SCENE VII.-Another Part of the Plain.
Alarums. Enter Macbeth.
Macb. They have tied me to a stake; I
cannot fly,
[he
But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What's
That was not born of woman? Such a one
Am I to fear, or none.
Enter Young Siward. Yo. Siw. What is thy name? Macb.
Macd.
Turn, hell-hound, turn!
Mach. Of all men else I have avoided thee:
But get thee back; my soul is too much
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! [They fight.
Macb.
Thou losest labour:
As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; [bleed:
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 For it hath cow'd my better part of man! [so, Thou'lt be afraid to hear it. 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
Macd. Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o' the time
[thee.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit,
Here may you see the tyrant."
Macb.
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's
I will not yield,
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 : before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be he that first cries, "Hold,
enough!"
Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter, with drum and
[Exeunt, fighting.
colours, Malcolm, Old Siward, Rosse,
Thanes, and Soldiers.
Why then, God's soldier be he!
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
And so, his knell is knoll'd.
Mal.
He's worth more sorrow,
And that I'll spend for him.
Siw.
They say he parted well, and paid his score:
And so, God be with him!--Here comes newer
comfort.
Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head.
Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art behold,
The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
where stands
That speak my salutation in their minds;
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,-
Hail, king of Scotland!
All.
Hail, king of Scotland!
Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of
[Flourish.
Mal. I would the friends we miss were safe Before we reckon with your several loves, [time, arriv'd. Siw. Some must go off: and yet, by these [I see, And make us even with you. My thanes and So great a day as this is cheaply bought. [son. Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotkinsmen, Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do, [land Rosse. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's Which would be planted newly with the time, He only liv'd but till he was a man ; The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; [debt: As calling home our exil'd friends abroad, In the unshrinking station where he fought, But like a man he died. Siw. Then he is dead? Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
It hath no end.
Producing forth the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,
Took off her life ;-this, and what needful else
Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
We will perform in measure, time, and place :
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
So, thanks, to all at once, and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
[Flourish. Exeunt.
SCENE I-Elsinore. A Platform before the
Castle.
Francisco on his post. Enter to him Bernardo.
Ber. Who's there?
Fran. Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold
Yourself.
Ber. Long live the king!
He.
Fran. You come most carefully upon your
hour.
[bed, Francisco.
Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to
Fran. For this relief, much thanks: 'tis
And I am sick at heart.
bitter cold,
Ber. Have you had quiet guard?
Fran.
Not a mouse stirring.
Ber. Well, good night.
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
Fran. I think I hear them.-Stand! Who
Hor. Friends to this ground. [is there?
Mar.
And liegemen to the Dane.
Fran. Give you good night.
Mar.
O! farewell, honest soldier:
Who hath relieved you?
Fran.
Give you good night.
Bernardo has my place. Bernardo!
Hor.
A piece of him.
Ber. Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good
Marcellus.
Hor. Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee,
speak!
[Exit Ghost.
Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.
Bar. How now, Horatio! you tremble, and
look pale:
Is not this something more than fantasy?
What think you on't?
Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe,
Without the sensible and true avouch
Of mine own eyes.
Is it not like the king? Hor. As thou art to thyself: Such was the very armour he had on, When he the ambitious Norway combated; So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. 'Tis strange!
[dead hour, Mar. Thus, twice before, and just at this With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know not;
But, in the gross and scope of my opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state. Mar. Good now, sit down, and tell me, he
Why this same strict and most observant watch [to-night? So nightly toils the subject of the land;
Mar. What, has this thing appear'd again Ber. I have seen nothing.
Mar. Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, And will not let belief take hold of him, Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: Therefore I have entreated him along With us to watch the minutes of this night;. That, if again this apparition come, He may approve our eyes, and speak to it. Hor. Tush, tush, 'twill not appear. Ber. Sit down awhile; And let us once again assail your ears, That are so fortified against our story, What we two nights have seen. Hor. Well, sit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
Ber. Last night of all, [pole, When yon same star, that's westward from the Had made his course to illume that part of
Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, The bell then beating one,- [comes again! Mar. Peace! break thee off; look, where it Enter Ghost.
Ber. In the same figure, like the king that's dead. [Horatio. Mar. Thou art a scholar; speak to it,
And why such daily cast of brazen cannon, And foreign mart for implements of war; [task Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore Does not divide the Sunday from the week; What might be toward, that this sweaty haste Doth make the night joing labourer with the Who is't that can inform me?
[day : That can I; At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, Whose image even but now appear'd to us, Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride, Dar'd to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet
[him) (For so this side of our known world esteem'd Did slay this Fortinbras: who, by a seal'd Weil ratified by law and heraldry, [compact, Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands Which he stood seiz'd of, to the conqueror : Against the which, a moiety competent Was gaged by our king; which had return'd To the inheritance of Fortinbras, Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same coAnd carriage of the article design'd, [mart, His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
Of unimproved metal hot and full,
Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there,
Shark'd up a list of landless resolutes
For food and diet, to some enterprise
That hath a stomach in't: which is no other
(As it doth well appear unto our state)
But to recover of us, by strong hand
And terms compulsative, those 'foresaid lands
So by his father lost and this, I take it,
Is the main motive of our preparations,
The source of this our watch, and the chief
head
Of this post-haste and romage in the land.
Ber. I think it be no other, but even so: Well may it sort, that this portentous figure Comes armed through our watch; so like the king
That was, and is, the question of these wars.
Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, [dead
The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets :
As, stars with trains of fire, and dews of blood,
Disasters in the sun; and the moist star,
Upon whose influence Neptune's empire
stands,
Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:
And even the like precurse of fierce events,
As harbingers preceding still the fates,
And prologue to the omen coming on,
Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
Unto our climatures and countrymen.-
Re-enter Ghost.
But, soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!
I'll cross it, though it blast me.-Stay, illusion!
If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me:
If there be any good thing to be done,
That may to thee do ease, and grace to me,
Speak to me :
If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,
O, speak!
Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,
For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in
death,
[Cock crows.
Speak of it ;--stay, and speak !-Stop it, Mar-
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day; and at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
Th' extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine and of the truth herein
This present object made probation..
Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock.
Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
This bird of dawning singeth all night long;
And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad :
The nights are wholesome; then no planets
strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm; So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.
Hor. So have I heard, and do in part be
But, look, the morn in russet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.
Break we our watch up; and, by my advice,
Let us impart what we have seen to-night
Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,
This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
Mar. Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently. [Exeunt.
SCENE II-A Room of State in the Castle. Enter the King, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, Voltimand, Cornelius, Lords, and Attendants.
King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
The memory be green; and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole
To be contracted in one brow of woe;
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature,
That we with wisest sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore, our sometime sister, now our queen
Th' imperial jointress of this warlike state,
Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,-
With one auspicious, and one dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in
marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole,—
Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along :-for all, our thanks.
Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
Or thinking, by our late dear brother's death,
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
Colleaguèd with the dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bands of law,
Toour most valiant brother.-So much for him.
Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting:
Thus much the business is: we have here writ
To business with the king, more than the scope
Of these dilated articles allow.
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief,
That can denote me truly: these, indeed, seem,
For they are actions that a man might play :
But I have that within which passeth show;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
King. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your
nature, Hamlet,
Farewell; and let your haste commend your To give these mourning duties to your father: Cor., Vol. In that, and all things, we will But, you must know, your father lost a father; show our duty. [well. That father lost, lost his; and the survivor King. We doubt it nothing: heartily fare- In filial obligation, for some term [Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius. And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes? You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, And lose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes,
That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
The head is not more native to the heart,
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
What wouldst thou have, Laertes?
My dread lord,
Laer.
Your leave and favour to return to France;
From whence though willingly I came to
Denmark,
To show my duty in your coronation;
Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again toward
France,
[don.
And bow them to your gracious leave and par-
King. Have you your father's leave? What
says Polonius?
Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my
slow leave,
By laboursome petition; and, at last,
Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:
I do beseech you, give him leave to go.
King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be
thine,
And thy best graces spend it at thy will!
But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,—
Ham. [Aside.] A little more than kin, and
less than kind.
King. How is it that the clouds still hang
[the sun.
on you?
Ham. Not so, my lord; I am too much i
Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted co-
lour off,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
Do not, for ever, with thy vailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
Thou know'st 'tis common, all that live must
Passing through nature to eternity.
Ham. Ay, madam, it is common.
Queen.
Why seems it so particular with thee?
Ham. Seems, madam! Nay, it is; I know
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
To do obsequious sorrow: but to perséver
In obstinate condolement, is a course
Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief :
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven;
A heart unfortified, a mind impatient;
An understanding simple and unschool'd:
For what we know must be, and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we, in our peevish opposition,
Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd; whose common theme
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
From the first corse till he that died to-day,
"This must be so." We pray you, throw to
earth
This unprevailing woe; and think of us
As of a father: for let the world take note,
You are the most immediate to our throne ;
And, with no less nobility of love
Than that which dearest father bears his son,
Do I impart toward you. For your intent
In going back to school in Wittenberg,
It is most retrograde to our desire:
And we beseech you, bend you to remain
Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers,
I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.
Ham. I shall in all my best obey you,
madam.
King. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply?
Be as ourself in Denmark.-Madam, come;
This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet
Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,
No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,
But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell;
And the king's rouse the heaven shall bruit
again,
Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.
[Exeunt all except Hamlet.
Ham. O, that this too too solid flesh would
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! [melt,
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable [God!
Seems to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
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