Macd. Let our just censures The time approaches Attend the true event, and put we on Industrious soldiership. Siw. That will with due decision make us know What we shall say we have, and what we owe. 20 [Exeunt, marching. Enter with drums and colors, MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers Macb. Hang out our banners on the outer walls; Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours. Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears: 10 The time has been, my senses would have cool'd 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 supp'd full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts Cannot once start me.- Wherefore was that cry? Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Macb. She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. To-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow 20 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 30 And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Enter a Messenger Thou com❜st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. Mess. Gracious my lord, I should report that which I say I saw, But know not how to do it. Macb. Mess. As I did stand my Well, say, sir. watch upon the hill, I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought, The wood began to move. Macb. Liar and slave! [Striking him. 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, 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 There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. I 'gin to be a-weary of the sun, 40 And wish the estate o' the world were now undone. - 50 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 leafy screens throw down, And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle, Shall with my cousin your right-noble son, 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, 10 Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. [Exeunt. Alarums continued. 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? 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, abhorrèd tyrant: with my sword I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. [They fight, and Young SIWARD is slain. 10 |