"Fear not, Macbeth; no man, that's born of woman, Enter Second Officer, R. The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon! 2d Off. There are ten thousand— Macb. Geese, villain ? 2d Off. Soldiers, sir. Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, 2d of The English force, so please you. Macb. Take thy face.hence.— [Exit Officer, R. Seyton !—I am sick at heart, • When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push Enter Seyton, R. Sey. What is your gracious pleasure ? Sey. All is confirmed, my lord, which was reported. Macb. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh- be Banked. Give me my armour. Sey. 'Tis not needed yet. Enter Physician, L. Send out more horses, skirr the country r «und; Hang those that talk of fear.— [Exit Seyton, » How does your patient, doctor? Phy. Not so sick, my lord, Mach. Cure her of that: Phy. Therein the patient Enter Seyton, R., with the King's Truncheon, and a GenTleman with his Armour. Macb. Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it. Seyton, send out:—Doctor, the Thanes fly from me :— Phy. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation Macb. Bring it after me.— [Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.—Exeunt, R. Scene III.—Birnam Forest.—A March. Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, Lenox, Rosse, and Soldiers, L. U. E. Mal. Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand, That chambers will be safe. Macd. We doubt it nothing. Siw. What wood is this before us? lien. The wood of Birnam. Mal. Let every soldier hew him down a bough, And bear't before him; thereby shall we shadow Len. It shall be done. Rosse. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant Macd. 'Tis his main hope: Siw. Let our just censures Macd. The time approaches, [March.—Exeunt, into the Wood, B. Scene IV.— The Ramparts of the Castle at Dunsinane.— Flourish of Trumpets and Drums. Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Attendants, L. 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 forced with those that should be ours, We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, And beat them backward home. [A cry within of women, L. What is that noise? Sey. It is the cry of women, good my lord. [Exit Seyton, L. Mad. I have almost forgot the taste of fears; The time has been, my senses would have cooled 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 supped full with horrors Re-enter Seyton. Wherefore was that cry ? Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Macb. She should have died hereafter; Enter First Officer, R. • Thou comest to use thy tongue: thy story quickly 1st Off. Gracious my lord, I should report that which, I say, I saw, But know not how to do't. Macb. Well, say, sir. 1st Offi. [Kneeling.] As I did stand my watch upon the hill, I looked toward Birnam, and anon, methought, Macb. Liar and slave! 1st Offi. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so: Macb. If thou speak'st false, Comes toward Dunsinane.—Arm, arm, and out!— If this, which he avouches does appear, There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here. I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun, And wish the state o'the world were now undone.— Ring the alarum bell:—Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back! [Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.—Exeunt, R. Scene V.—A Plain before the Castle at Dunsinane.— Flourish of Trumpets and Drums. Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, Lenox, and Soldiers, with Boughs, discovered. Mal. Now near enough; your leafy screens throw down, And show like those you are :—You, worthy uncle, Den, This way, my lords, the castle's gently rendered. Macd. Make all our trumpets speak: give them all breath, Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. [Alarums—Exeunt several ways. Scene VI.—A Court in the Castle of Dunsinane.—Alarums. Enter MACBETH,_//wtt the gates. Macb. They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, But, bear-like, I must fight the course.—What's he, That was not born of woman 1 Such a one Am I to fear, or none. [Alarums.—Exit, L Enter Macduff, R. 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, whose arms |