I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun, [done. And wish the estate of the world were now unRing the alarum bell:-Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VL-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 leavy screens throw down,

And show like those you are:--You, worthy uncle,
Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,
Lead our first battle; worthy Macduff, and we,
Shall take upon us what else remains to do,
According to our order.

Siw.
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.

SCENE VII.-ANOTHER PART OF THE PLAIN. Enter Macbeth.

Macb. They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, But, bear-like, I must fight the course. -What's That was not born of woman? Such a one [he, Am I to fear, or none.

Enter Young Siward.

Y. Siw. What is thy name? Macb. Thou'lt be afraid to hear it. Y. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a Than any is in hell. [hotter name Macb. My name's Macbeth. Y.Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce More hateful to mine ear. [a title Macb. No, nor more fearful. Y. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. [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.

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.
I cannot strike at wretched kernes, 1 whose arms
Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou, Mac-
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge, [beth,
Isheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst
By this great clatter, one of greatest note [be;
Seems bruited: 2 Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not.
[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;

My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out! [They fight.
Macb.
Thou losest labour:

As easy mayst thou the intrenchant1air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
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, And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd, That palter2 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, [thee. 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. Macb. I'll not yield, To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's 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 him that first cries, Hold, enough. [Exeunt fighting.

Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter with Drum and Colours, Malcolm, old Siward, Rosse, Lenox, Angus, Cathness, Menteth, and Soldiers. Mal. I would, the friends we miss were safe arriv'd.

Siw. Some must go off: and yet, by these I see, So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Ros. 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.
Siw.

1 Uncutable.

Then he is dead? Shuffle.

Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion,
Lord of thy presence and no land beside?
Bast. Madam, an if my brother had my shape,
And I had his, Sir Robert his, like him:
And if my legs were two such riding-rods,
My arms such eel-skins stuffed; my face so thin,
That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose,
Lest men should say, Look, where three-far-
things goes!

And to his shape, were heir to all this land,
'Would I might never stir from off this place,
I'd give it every foot to have this face;
I would not be Sir Nob in any case.

Eli. I like thee well; Wilt thou forsake thy fortune,

Bequeath thy land to him, and follow me?
I am a soldier, and now bound to France.

Bast. Brother, take you my hand, I'll take my chance:

Your face hath got five hundred pounds a year; Yet sell your face for five pence, and, 'tis dear. Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.

Eli. Nay, I would have you go before me thither.

Bast. Our country manners give our betters K. John. What is thy name? [way. Bast. Philip, my liege; so is my name begun Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son. K. John. From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st:

Kneel thou down Philip, but arise more great: Arise Sir Richard, and Plantagenet.

Bast. Brother, by my mother's side, give me your hand;

My father gave me honour, yours gave land.-
Eli. The very spirit of Plantagenet!-
I am thy grandame, Richard; call me so.
Bast. Madam, by chance, but not by truth:
What though?
[thy desire,
K. John. Go, Faulconbridge; now hast thou
A landless knight makes thee a landed 'squire.--
Come,madam, and come, Richard; we must speed
For France, for France; for it is more than need.
Bast. Brother, adieu; good fortune come to
For thou was got i' the way of honesty. [thee!
[Exeunt all but the Bastard.
A foot of honour better than I was;
But many a foot of land the worse.
Well, now can I make any Joan a lady:-----
Good den,1 Sir Richard,-

And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter: For new made honour doth forget men's names; "Tis too respective, and too sociable,

For your conversion. Now your traveller,-
He and his tooth-pick at my worship's mess;
And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd,
Why then I suck my teeth and catechise
My picked man of countries 2:My dear sir,
(Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin,)
I shall beseech you-That is question now;
And then comes answer like an ABC-book:-
O sir, says answer, at your best command;
At your employment; at your service, sir:
No, sir, says question, I, sweet sir, at yours:
And so, ere answer knows what question would,
(Saving in dialogue of compliment;
And talking of the Alps, and Apennines,
1 Good evening.
2 My travelled fop.

The Pyrenean, and the river Po,)
It draws towards supper in conclusion so.
But this is worshipful society.
And fits the mounting spirit, like myself:
And not alone in habit and device,
Exterior form, outward accoutrement;
But from the inward motion to deliver
Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth:
Which, though I will not practise to deceive,
Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;
For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.-
But who comes in such haste, in riding robes?
What woman-post is this? hath she no husband,
That will take pains to blow a horn before her?
Enter Lady Faulconbridge and James Gurney.
O me! it is my mother:-How now, good lady?
What brings you here to court so hastily?
Lady F. Where is that slave, thy brother?
where is he?

That holds in chase mine honour up and down?

Bast. My brother Robert? old Sir Robert's son? Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man? Is it Sir Robert's son, that you seek so? [boy, Lady F. Sir Robert's son ! Ay, thou unreverend Sir Robert's son: Why scorn'st thou at Sir Robert?

He is Sir Robert's son; and so art thou.

Bast. James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave Gur. Good leave,1 good Philip. [awhile? Bast. Philip?-sparrow!-James, There's toys abroad; anon I'll tell thee more. [Exit Gurney.

Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's son. Lady F. Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,

That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? [knave? What means this scorn, thou most untoward Bast. Knight, knight, good mother,-Basil

isco like3:

By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd:
Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!
Thou art the issue of my great offence,
Which was so strongly urg'd, past my defence.
Bast. Madam, I would not wish a better father.
Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,
And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly:
Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,-
Subjècted tribute to commanding love,-
Against whose fury and unmatched force
The aweless lion could not wage the fight,
Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand
He that perforce robs lions of their hearts,
May easily win a woman's.

1 Readily.

[Exeunt

2 Idle reports rel

3 A character in an old drama.

Act Second.

SCENE I.

FRANCE. BEFORE THE WALLS OF ANGIERS.

Enter, on one side, the Archduke of Austria, and Forces; on the other, Philip King of France, and Forces; Lewis, Constance, Arthur, and Attendants.

Lew. Before Angiers well met, brave Austria.-
Arthur, that great fore-runner of thy blood,
Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart,
And fought the holy wars in Palestine,
By this brave duke came early to his grave:
And, for amends to his posterity,
At our importance,1 hither is he come,
To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf;
And to rebuke the usurpation

Of thy unnatural uncle, English John:
Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither.
Arth. Heaven will forgive you Coeur-de-lion's
The rather, that you give his offspring life,[death,
Shadowing their right under your wings of war:
I give you welcome with a powerless hand,
But with a heart full of unstained love:
Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke.
Lew. A noble boy! Who would not do thee right?
Aust. Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss,
As seal to this indenture of my love;
That to my home I will no more return,
Till Angiers, and the right thou hast in France,
Together with that pale, that white-fac'd shore,
Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides,
And coops from other lands her islanders,
Even till that England, hedg'd in with the main,
The water-walled bulwark, still secure
And confident from foreign purposes,
Even till that utmost corner of the west
Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy,
Will I not think of home, but follow arms.
Const. O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's
thanks,

Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength,

To make a more requital to your love.

Aust. The peace of heaven is theirs, that lift their swords

In such a just and charitable war.

[be bent K. Phi. Well then, to work; our cannon shall Against the brows of this resisting town. Call for our chiefest men of discipline, To cull the plots of best advantages:-We'll lay before this town our royal bones, Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, But we will make it subject to this boy.

Const. Stay for an answer to your embassy, Lest unadvis'd you stain your swords with blood: My lord Chatillon may from England bring That right in peace, which here we urge in war; And then we shall repent each drop of blood, That hot rash haste so indirectly shed.

Enter Chatillon.

K. Phi. A wonder, lady!-lo, upon thy wish, Our messenger Chatillon is arriv'd.-What England says, say briefly, gentle lord, 1 Importunity.

We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak.
Ch. Then turn your forces from this paltry siege,
And stir them up against a mightier task.
England, impatient of your just demands,
Hath put himself in arms; the adverse winds,
Whose leisure I have staid, have given him time
To land his legions all as soon as I:
His marches are expedient to this town,
His forces strong, his soldiers confident.
With him along is come the mother-queen,
An Até,2 stirring him to blood and strife;
With her her niece, the lady Blanch of Spain;
With them a bastard of the king deceas'd:
And all the unsettled humours of the land,-
Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries,
With ladies' faces, and fierce dragons' spleens,---
Have sold their fortunes at their native homes,
Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs,
To make a hazard of new fortunes here.
In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits,
Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er
Did never float upon the swelling tide,
To do offence and scath3 in Christendom.
The interruption of their churlish drums

[Drums beat.

Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand, To parley, or to fight; therefore, prepare.

K.P.How much unlook'd for is this expedition! Aust. By how much unexpected, by so much We must awake endeavour for defence; For courage mounted with occasion: Let them be welcome then, we are prepar'd. Enter King John, Elinor, Blanch, the Bastard, Pembroke, and Forces.

K John. Peace be to France; if France in peace permit

Our just and lineal entrance to our own! If not; bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven. Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct Their proud contempt that beat his peace to heaven. [return

K. Phi. Peace be to England: if that war
From France to England, there to live in peace!
England we love: and, for that England's sake,
With burden of our armour hear we sweat:
This toil of ours should be a work of thine;
But thou from loving England art so far,
That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king,
Cut off the sequence of posterity,
Outfaced infant state, and done a rape
Upon the maiden virtue of the crown.
Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face ;-
These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his:
This little abstract doth contain that large,
Which died in Geffrey; and the hand of time
Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume.
That Geffrey was thy elder brother born,
And this his son; England was Geffrey's right,
And this is Geffrey's: In the name of God,
How comes it then, that thou art call'd a king,
When living blood doth in these temples beat,
Which owes the crown that thou o'ermasterest?
K. John. From whom hast thou this great
commission, France,

To draw my answer from thy articles?
3 Mischief.
4 Little one.

1 Expediting.

The goddess of revenge.

5 Own.