Both more and less have given him the revolt;
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.
Macd.

Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.
Siw.

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 : Towards which, advance the war. [Exeunt, marching.

SCENE V. Dunsinane.

Within the Castle.

Enter, with drums and colors, MACBETH, Seyron,

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 forced 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. Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.

Mach. 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 ;
Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.—Wherefore was that cry?

Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.
Macb. She should have died hereafter ;

a

There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle !
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more ; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Enter a Messenger.
Thou com’st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
Mess. Gracious my lord,

.
I shall report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to do it.
Macb.

Well, say, sir.
Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill

,
I looked toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.
Macb.

Liar and slave !
Mess. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so.
Within this three mile may you see it coming ;
I say, a moving grove.
Macb.

If thou speak’st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling thee; if thy speech be sooth,

ܪ

2

1 « The last syllable of recorded time" seems to signify the utmost period fixed in the decrees of Heaven for the period of life. The record of futurity is indeed no accurate expression ; but as we only know transactions past or present, the language of men affords no term for the volumes of prescience in which future events may be supposed to be written.

[“ Striking him,"] says the stage direction in the margin of all the modern editions ; but this stage direction is not in the old copies: it was first interpolated by Rowe, and is now omitted on the suggestion of the late Mr. Řemble. See his Essay on Macbeth and King Richard III. Lond. 1817. p. 111.

I care not if thou dost for me as much.-
I pall in resolution; and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth: Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane ;-and now a wood
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,

a
And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.
Ring the alarum-bell. Blow, wind! come, wrack !
At least we'll die with harness' on our back. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI. The same.

A Plain before the Castle.

Enter, with drums and colors, 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 uso 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.

sExeunt. Alarums continued.

2

2 The first folio reads upon's.

1 Harness, armor. VOL. III.

83

SCENE VII. The same.

Another Part of the Plain.

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

Enter Young SIWARD.
Yo. Siw. What is thy name?
Macb.

Thou'lt be afraid to hear it. Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter

name

Than any is in hell.
Macb.

My name's Macbeth.
Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce a

title More hateful to mine ear. Macb.

No, nor more fearful. Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my

sword I'll prove the lie thou speak’st.

[They fight, and Young Siward is slain. Macb.

Thou wast born of woman.But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Brandished by man that's of a woman born.

[Exit.

Alarums. Enter MACDUFF. Macd. That way the noise is.—Tyrant, show thy

I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms
Are hired to bear their staves ; either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword, with an unbattered edge,
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited. 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 ren-

dered:
The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
The day almost itself professes yours,
And little is to do.
Mal.

We have met with foes
That strike beside us.
Siw.

Enter, sir, the castle.

[Exeunt. Alarum.

Re-enter MACBETH. Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword ? Whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better

upon

them.

Re-enter MACDUFF.
Macd.

Turn, hell-hound, turn.
Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee;
But get thee back; my soul is too much charged
With blood of thine already.
Macd.

I have no words ;
My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain

! Than terms can give thee out!

[They fight Macb.

Thou losest labor : As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air?