The Works of Shakespeare

I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps, it bleeds: and each new day a gash
Is added to her wounds: I think, withal,
There would be hands uplifted in my right;
And here, from gracious England, have I offer
Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
Shall have more vices than it had before;
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever,
By him that shall succeed.
MACD.

What should he be? MAL. It is myself I mean: in whom I know All the particulars of vice so grafted,

That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd
With my confineless harms.

MACD.

Not in the legions

Boundless intemperance

In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
The untimely emptying of the happy throne,
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,

And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.

We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
That vulture in you, to devour so many

As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclin'd.

MAL.
With this, there grows,
In my most ill-compos'd affection, such
A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
Desire his jewels, and this other's house :
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more; that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.

MACD.

This avarice

Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming lust; and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;
Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will,
Of your mere own.
All these are portable,

With other graces weigh'd.

MAL. But I have none: the king-becoming graces, As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,

Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,

I have no relish of them; but abound

In the division of each several crime,

Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.

MACD.

O, Scotland! Scotland!

MAL. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken.

MACD.

Fit to govern!

No, not to live.-O, nation miserable!
With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptred,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne

By his own interdiction stands accurs'd,
And does blaspheme his breed?-Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore
thee-

Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet-
Died every day she liv'd. Fare thee well!
These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself

Have banish'd me from Scotland.-O, my breast,
Thy hope ends here!
MAL.

Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts
To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth
By many of these trains hath sought to win me
Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste: but God above
Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature. I am yet
Unknown to woman; never was forsworn ;
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own;
At no time broke my faith: would not betray
The devil to his fellow; and delight

No less in truth than life: my first false speaking
Was this upon myself.-What I am truly,
Is thine, and my poor country's, to command:
Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,
Already at a point, was setting forth;
Now we'll together: and the chance of goodness

MACD. What, all my pretty chickens and their dam. Belike our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent? MACD. Such welcome and unwelcome things at

once,

'Tis hard to reconcile.

Enter a DOCTOR.

I thank you, doctor. [Exit DOCTOR.
MACD. What's the disease he means?
MAL.
'T is call'd the evil;
A most miraculous work in this good king;
Which often, since my here-remain in England,
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,
All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures ;
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers: and 't is spoken,
To the succeeding royalty he leaves

The healing benedictions. With this strange virtue,
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
That speak him full of grace.

MACD.
See, who comes here?
MAL. My countryman; but yet I know him not.

MACD. Be not a niggard of your speech; how goes 't?

Ross. When I came hither to transport the tidings,

Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
Of many worthy fellows that were out;
Which was to my belief witnessed the rather,
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot :
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses.
MAL.
Be 't their comfort
We are coming thither: gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men ;
An older and a better soldier none
That Christendom gives out.
Ross.
Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words
That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Where hearing should not latch them.

MACD. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue!-But, gentle heavens,
Cut short all intermission; front to front

Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

MAL.
This tune goes manly,
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you

may;

The night is long that never finds the day!

[Exeunt.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][graphic][merged small]

Enter a DOCTOR OF PHYSIC and a waiting
GENTLEWOMAN.

DOCT. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked ?

GENT. Since his Majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

DOCT. A great perturbation in nature-to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching!-In this slumbery agitation, besides her

walking and other actual performances, what, at any
time, have you heard her say?

GENT. That, sir, which I shall not report after her.
DOCT. You may to me; and 't is most meet you
should.

GENT. Neither to you nor anyone; having no
witness to confirm my speech. Lo you! here she
comes.

Enter QUEEN with a taper.
This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep
Observe her: stand close.

DOCT. You see, her eyes are open.

GENT. Ay, but their sense is shut.

DOCT. What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her hands.

GENT. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands: I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

QUEEN. Yet here's a spot.

DOCT. Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

QUEEN. Out, damned spot! out, I say!-One, two; why, then 't is time to do 't :-Hell is murky! -Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?-Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? DOCT. Do you mark that?

QUEEN. The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?-What, will these hands ne'er be clean ?No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that you mar all with this starting.

DOCT. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

GENT. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known. QUEEN. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!

DOCT. What a sigh is there! The heart is surely charged.

GENT. I would not have such a heart in my bosom, for the dignity of the whole body.

DOCT. Well, well, well

GENT. Pray God it be, sir.

DOCT. This disease is beyond my practice : yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in their beds.

QUEEN. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale :-I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out on's grave. DOCT. Even so?

QUEEN. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand : what's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.

DOCT. Will she go now to bed?
GENT. Directly.

[Exit.

DOCT. Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural
deeds

Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
More needs she the divine than the physician :-
God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her: so, good night
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight:
I think, but dare not speak.
GENT.
Good night, good doctor.
[Exeunt

SCENE II.-The Country near Dunsinane.
Enter, with drum and colours, MENTEITH, CAITH-
NESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, and SOLDIERS.
MENT. The English power is near, led on by
Malcolm,

DOCT. How came she by that light?
GENT. Why, it stood by her: she has light by her His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff:
continually; 'tis her command.
Revenges burn in them: for their dear causes

Would, to the bleeding, and the grim alarm, Excite the mortified man.

ANG.

Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
CAITH. Who knows if Donalbain be with his
brother?

LEN. For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
Of all the gentry there is Siward's son,
And many unrough youths, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.

MENT.

What does the tyrant?
CAITH. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies :
Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.

ANG.
Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
Those he commands move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.

MENT.

Who, then, shall blame

K. MACB. Throw physic to the dogs-I'll none of it.

Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff:-
Seyton, send out.-Doctor, the thanes fly from me.-
Come, sir, dispatch.-If thou couldst, 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,
That should applaud again.-Pull't off, I say.-
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence ?-Hear'st thou of
them?

DOCT. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation Makes us hear something.

Enter, with drum and colours, KING MACBETH, SEYTON, and SOLDIERS.

K. 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.

[A cry of women within. What is that noise? SEY. It is the cry of women, my good lord.

[Exit.

SCENE III.-Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Enter KING MACBETH, DOCTOR and ATTENDANTS. K. MACB. Bring me no more reports;-let them fly all:

Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,

I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus,--
Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman
Shall e'er have power upon thee. Then fly, false thanes,
And mingle with the English epicures:

The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear,-
Enter a SERVANT.

The devil damn the black, thou cream-fac'd loon !
Where gott'st thou that goose look ?

SERV. There is ten thousand-
K. MACB.

SERV.

Geese, villain? Soldiers, sir. K. MACB. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,

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? SERV. The English force, so please you. K. MACB. Take thy face hence.- [Exit Servant. Seyton!-I am sick at heart, When I behold-Seyton, I say!-This push Will chair me ever, or dis-seat me now. I have liv'd long enough: my way of life Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf;

And that which should accompany old age,

As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but in their stead,
Curses not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare

not.

Seyton!

K. MACB.

"And now a Wood comes toward Dunsinane." Bring it after me.I will not be afraid of death and bane, Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. [Exeunt all except the DOCTOR. DOCT. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here. [Exit.

K. MACB. I have almost forgot the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool'd 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 slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.

SEY.

Re-enter SEYTON.

SCENE IV.-Country near Dunsinane: a Wood
Wherefore was that cry?
in view.
The queen, my lord, is dead.
Enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, old
K. MACB. She should have died hereafter;
SIWARD and his SON, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, There would have been a time for such a word.
CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, ROSS, and SOL-To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
DIERS, marching.
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 upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.-

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

MAL.
'T is 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.

K. MACB.

It wou speak'st lalse,
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 toward 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 estate o' the world were now undone.-
Ring the alarum-bell !-Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back.

MACD. That way the noise is. -Tyrant, show thy And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born,

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. There thou shouldst be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited.-Let me find him, Fortune!
And more I beg not.
[Exit. Alarums.
Enter MALCOLM and old SIWARD.

Yet I will try the last :-before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough!
[Excunt, fighting.

Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours,
MALCOLM, old SIWARD, ROSS, LENNOX, ANGUS,
CAITHNESS, MENTEITH, and SOLDIERS.
MAL. I would the friends we missed were safe
arriv'd.

SIW. Some must go off; and yet, by these I see,

SIW. This way, my lord;-the castle's gently ren- So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

dered:

Turn hell-hound, out!
K. 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!
[They fight.
Thou losest labour:
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me Llced:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests!

К. МАСВ.

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.

K. 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 gaze o' the time.
We 'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole; and underwrit,
Here may you see the tyrant.
K. MACB.
I will not yield,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,

MAL. Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Ross. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt;
He only liv'd but till he was a man ;

The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.

They say he parted well, and paid his score:
And so, God be with him !-Here comes newer
comfort.

Re-enter MACDUFF, with KING MACBETH's heal.
MACD. Hail, king! for so thou art behold,
where stands

The usurper's cursed head: the time is free!
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!

Hail, king of Scotland!

[Flouri.h.

ALL.
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 kits

men,

Henceforth be earls,-the first that ever Scotland
In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,-
As calling home our exil'd friends abroad
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,
Who, as 't is thought, by self and violent hands
Took off her life ;-this, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
We will perform in measure, time, and place!
So, thanks to all at once, and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
[Flourish. Exeunt.

[merged small][graphic][subsumed][subsumed][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

JULIA, a lady of Verona, beloved by I'ROTEUS.
SILVIA, beloved by VALENTINE.
LUCETTA, waiting-woman to JULIA.
Servants, Musicians.

Sometimes in VERONA; sometimes in MILAN; and on the frontiers of MANTua.

« Previous Continue »

Books