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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 thet." - Then fly, false

thanes, una And mingle with the English epicures Wall The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear, Shall never sagg with doubt*, nor shake with fear. 130

52 Enter a Servant.

izarra "The devil damn thee black.,” thou cream-fac'd loon"! Where got'st thou that goose look? Ser. There is ten thousands or 10 h Mac. Geese, villain ? Ser. Soldiers, sir. Mac. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear's 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? Ser. The English force, so please you. 140 Mac. Take thy face hence.--Seyton !-I am sick at heart,

smo When I behold—Seyton, I say !—This push Will cheer me ever, or *disseat me now. y los I have liv'd long enough: *my May of life solo Is fall’n into the sear*, the yellow leaf : glow didW And that which should accompany old age, La As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, EM

I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, h Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath, !

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Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Seyton !

151

Enter SEYTON.

mour.

Sey. What is your gracious pleasure ?
Mac. What news more?
Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
Mac. I'll fight, 'till from my bones my flesh be

hackid.
Give me my armour.
: Sey. 'Tis not needed yet.

Mac. I'll put it on.
Send out more horses, *skirr the country round;
Hang those that talk of fear..Give me mine ar-

160 How does your patient, doctor ?

Do£t. Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.

Mac. Cure her of that:
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain ;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
*Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff, 170
Which weighs upon the heart?

Doct. Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.

Mac. Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it.
Comc, put mine armour on; give me my staff:

-Seyton,

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Seyton, send out.-Doctor, the thanes Ay from me:
Come, sir, dispatch :-If thou could'st, 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,

180
That should applaud again.--Pull't off, I say.-
What rhubarb, senna*, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence ?_Hearest thou of

them? Dokt. Ay, my good lord ; your royal preparation Makes us hear something.

Mac. Bring it after me.
I will not be afraid of death and bane;
Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

188 " Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, " Prosit again should hardly draw me here.” [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Drum and Colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MAC

DUFF, SIWARD's Son, MENTETH, CATHNESS, ANGUS, 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

200

The numbers of our host, and make discovery
Err in report of us.

« Sold. It shall be done."

Siw. We learn no other, *but the confident tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down before't.

Mal. 'Tis his main hope :
*For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less have given him the revolt;
And none-serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.

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. 20

210

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Erter MACBETH, Seyron, and Soldiers, with Drums

and Colours,

Mac. Hang out our banners on the outward walls ; The

cry is still, They come : Our castle's strength Wil laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie, 'Till famine, and the ague, eat them up:

Were

223

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

Mac. I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have coolid 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 supt full with horrors ; 230 Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, Cannot once start me.--Wherefore was that cry?

Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Mat. *She should have dy'd 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 ! 240 Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more : it is a tale Told by an ideot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing:

Enter a Messenger.
Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.

Mes. Gracious my lord,
I should report that which, I say I saw,

But

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