SCENE II.

The Country near Dunsinane.

Enter, with Drum and Colours, MENTETH, CATHNESS, ANGUS, LENOX, and Soldiers.

Ment. The English power is near, led on by
Malcolm,

His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
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 com

ing.

Cath. Who knows, if Donalbain be with his

Len.

brother?

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?

Cath. 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

His pester'd senses 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 we the medecin of the sickly weal;
And with him pour we, in our country's purge,
Each drop of us.

Len. Or so much as it needs,

To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the

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 Mal

colm?

Was he not born of woman?

know

The spirits that

All mortal sonsequents, pronounc'd me thus:
Fear not, Macbeth; no man,

that's born of

Then fly, false

woman,

Shall e'er have power on thee.-
Thanes,

And mingle with the English epicures:

The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sagg with doubt, nor shake with fear.

Enter a Servant.

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

Ser. There is ten thousand

Macb. Geese, villain?

Ser. Soldiers, Sir.

Mach. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy

fear,

Thou lilly - 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.
Macb. Take thy face hence.

When I behold

Seyton!

I

am sick at heart, Seyton, I say! This push Will cheer me ever, or disseat 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

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

Sey. All is confirm'd, my Lord, which was re

ported.

Mach.

Mach. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh

Give me my armour.

be hack'd.

Sey. 'Tis not needed yet.

Macb. I'll put it on.

Send out more horses, skirr the country round; Hang those that talk of fear.

armour.

How does your patient, Doctor?
Doct. Not so sick, my Lord,

Give me mine

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

Macb. 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 stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?

Doct. Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.

Macb. Throw physick to the dogs, I'll none

Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff:
Seyton, send out.

Come, Sir, despatch:

Doctor, the Thanes fly from

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? Hearest thou of them?

Vol. VII.

6

Doct.. Ay, my good Lord; your royal prepara

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

[Exit.

Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here. [Exit.

SCENE IV.

Country near Dunsinane: A wood in view.

Enter, with Drum and Colours, MALCOLM, old SIWARD and his Son, MACDUFF, MENTETH, CATHINESS, ANGUS, LENOx, RossE, 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 shadowThe 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 ty

rant

Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure

Our setting down befor't.

Mal. 'Tis his main hope:

For where there is advantage to be given,