Ang. Near Birnam wood

Shall we meet them; that way are they coming.
Cath. Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
Len. For certain, fir, he is not: I have a file
Of all the gentry; there is Siward's fon,
And many unrough youths, that even now
Proteft their firft of manhood.

Ment. What does the tyrant ?

Cath. Great Dunfinane he ftrongly fortifies:
Some fay he's mad; others, that leffer hate him,
Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his diftemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.
Ang. Now does he feel

His fecret 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

His pefter'd fenfes to recoil, and start.
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself, for being there?

Cath. Well, march we on,

To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd :
Meet me the medicine of the fickly weal;
And with him pour we, in our country's purge,
Each drop of us.

Len. Or fo much as it needs,

To dew the fovereign flower, and drown the weeds.

Make we our march towards Birnam.

[Exeunt, marching.

SCENE

SCENE III.

Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants. Macb. Bring me no more reports; let them fly all: 'Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,

I cannot taint with fears. What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? The fpirits that know
All mortal confequences, have pronounc'd me thus:
Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman,
Shalle'er have power upon thee.-Then fly, falfe thanes,
And mingle with the English epicures:

The mind I fway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never fagg with doubt, nor fhake with fear.

Enter a Servant.

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon!
Where got'ft thou that goofe look?

Serv. There is ten thoufand-
Macb. Geefe, villain?

Serv. Soldiers, fir.

Mech. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-liver'd boy. What foldiers, patch? Death of thy, foul! thofe linen checks of thine Are counters to fear. What foldiers, whey-face! Serv.glish force, fo please you.

Mach. Take thy face hence.-Seyton!-Iam fick at heart,

When i behold-Seyton, I fay !—This push
Will cheer me ever, or diffeat me now.
I have liv'd long enough my May of life
Is fall'n into the fear, 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 ftead,
Curfes, not loud, but deep; mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not,
Seyton!

Enter SEYTON.

Sey. What is your gracious pleasure ?
Macb. What news more?

Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported,
Macb. I'll fight, 'till from my bones my flesh bę
hack'd.-

Give me my armour.

Sey. 'Tis not needed yet.

Macb. I'll put it on.

Send out my horses, skirr the country round;

Hang thofe that talk of fear.

mour.

How does your patient, doctor?

Doct. Not fo fick, my lord,

-Give me mine ar

As fhe is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.

Macb. Cure her of that:

Can't thou not minister to a mind difeas'd;
Pluck from the memory a rooted forrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the foul bofom of that perilous fluff,
Which weighs upon the heart?
Doct. Therein the patient

Muft minifter to himself.

Macb. Throw phyfic to the dogs, I'll none of it.Come, put mine armour on; give me my ftaff:Seyton, fend out.-Doctor, the thanes fly from. Come, fir, difpatch :-If thou couldit, doctor, cait G

The

The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a found and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,

That should applaud again.-Pull't off, I say.— What rhubarb, fenna, or what purgative drug, Would scour these English hence?-Hearest thou of them?

Do&. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation Makes us hear fomething.

Macb. Bring it after me.

I will not be afraid of death and bane, 'Till Birnam foreft come to Dunsinane.

Doct. Were I from Dunfinane away and clear, Profit again fhould hardly draw me here. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Drum and Colours.

Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MACDUFF, SIWARD's Son, MENTETH, CATHNESS, ANGUS, and Soldiers march. ing.

Mal. Coufins, I hope, the days are near at hand, That chambers will be fafe.

Ment. We doubt it nothing.

Siw. What wood is this before us?

Ment. The wood of Birnam.

Mal. Let every foldier hew him down a bough, And bear't before him thereby fhall we fhadow The numbers of our hoft, and make discovery Err in report of us.

Sold. It fhall be done.

Siw. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant Keeps in Dunfinane, and will endure

Our fetting down before't.

Mal. 'Tis his main hope:

For

For where there is advantage to be given,

Both more and lefs have given him the revolt;
And none ferve with him but constrained things,
Whofe hearts are absent too.

Macd. Let our just cenfures

Attend the true event, and put we on
Induftrious foldiership.

Siw. The time approaches,

That will, with due decifion, make us know
What we shall fay we have, and what we owe.
Thoughts fpeculative their unfure hopes relate;
But certain iffue ftrokes must arbitrate:
Towards which, advance the war. [Exeunt,marching.

SCENE V.

Enter MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers, with drums and Colours.

Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The cry is ftill, They come; Our caftle's ftrength Will laugh a fiege to fcorn: 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 noife? [A cry within, of women,

Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears: The time has been, my fenfes would have cool'd To hear a night-ihriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir As life were in't: I have fupt full with horrors: Direness, familiar to my flaughtrous thoughts, Cannot once ftart me.-Wherefore was that cry?