Ang.

Near Birnam wood

Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming. Cath. Who knows, if Donalbain be with his bro

ther?

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?

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.

Now does he feel

Ang.
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 weeds. Make we our march towards Birnam.

[Exeunt, marching.

* Unbearded.

+ The physician,

SCENE III.

Dunsinane. A room in the castle.

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 fear. What's the boy Malcolm! Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know All mortal consequents, pronounc'd me thus:

Fear not, Macbeth; no man, that's born of woman, Shall e'er have power on thee.Then fly, false 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; t Where got'st thou that goose look ?

Serv. There is ten thousand

Macb.

Serv.

Geese, villain?

Soldiers, sir.

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.

Macb. Take thy face hence.-Seyton!-I am sick

at heart,

When I behold-Seyton, I say!-This push
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.

I have liv'd long enough: my way of life
Is fall'n 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, but dare not.
Seyton!

Enter Seytou.

Sey. What is your gracious pleasure?

Macb.

What news more?

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

ported.

Macb. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be

hack'd.

Give me my armour.

Sey.

Macb. I'll put it on.

'Tis not needed yet.

Send out more horses, skirrt the country round; Hang those that talk of fear.-Give me mine ar

mour.

How does your patient, doctor?

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

Macb.

Not so sick, my lord,

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.

Must minister to himself.

Therein the patient

Macb. Throw physick 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, despatch :-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?-Hearest thou of

them?

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

Macb.

Bring it after me.——

I will not be afraid of death and bane,

Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

[Erit.

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, Cathness, 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 shadow The numbers of our host, and make discovery Err in report of us.

Sold.

It shall be done.

Sim. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure

Our setting down before't.

Mal.

'Tis 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.

Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.

Siw..

Let our just censures

The time approaches,

That will with due decision make us know
What we shall say we have, and what we owe.
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate;
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate: t
Towards which, advance the war.

[Exeunt, marching.

SCENE V.

Dunsinane. Within the castle.

Enter, with drums and colours, Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers.

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 fore'd with those that should be ours,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home. What is that noise?
[A cry within, of women.

i. e. Greater and less.

+ Determine.