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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,

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. Siw. 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 7 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

77. e. Greater and less.

What we shall say we have, and what we owe.
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate;
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate :8
Towards which, advance the war.

[Ereunt, marching.

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cry

Enter, with Drums and Colours, MACBETH, Sey

TON, and Soldiers. Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward walls; The 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 forc'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 uithin, of Women, Sey. It is the

cry
of

women, my good lord.
Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears :
The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
To hear a night-shriek; and my fell 9 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 slaught'rous 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,

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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 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 pull in resolution ; and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth: Fear not, till Birnam wood

1 Shrivel.

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,
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.

[E.reunt.

SCENE VI.

The same.

A plain before the Castle.

Enter, wrth Drums and Colours, MALCOLM, old

SIWARD, MACDUFF, fc. 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 us what else remains to do,
According to our order.
Siwa

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.

[Exeunt. Alarums continued.

2 Armour,

SCENE VII.

The same.

Another Part of the Plain,

Enter MACBETH.

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

pame

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, Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. [Exit.

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