Ment. The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Siward and the good Macduff:

Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
Excite the mortified man.

Ang.

r

Near Birnam wood

Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
Caith. Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
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?

Caith. 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.

Ang.

Now does he feel

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?

Caith.

Well, march we on,

To give obedience where 'tis truly owed:
Meet we the medicine 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.

SCENE III

Dunsinane. A room in the castle. Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants. Mach. 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 consequences have pronounced me thus : 'Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman Shall e'er have power upon thee.' Then fly, false thanes, And mingle with the English epicures: The mind I sway by and the heart I bear

Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.

Enter a Servant.

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!

Where got'st thou that goose look?

Serv. There is ten thousand

Macb.

Serv.

Geese, villain?

Mach. Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear,

Soldiers, sir.

Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch!
Death of my soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face!

Serv. The English force, so please you.

Mach. Take thy face hence.

[Exit Servant.

Seyton! I am sick at heart,

When I behold-Seyton, I say! This push
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
I have lived 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, and dare not.
Seyton!

Enter Seyton.

Sey. What's your gracious pleasure?
Macb.

What news more?

Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
Mach. 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 moe horses, skirr the country round;
Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.

How does your patient, doctor?

Doct.

Not so sick, my lord,

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

Macb.
Cure her of that.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
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

८

Mach. Throw physic 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, dispatch. 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? Hear'st 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.

Doct. [Aside] Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,....

Profit again should hardly draw me here.

SCENE IV

Country near Birnam wood.

[Exeunt.

Drum and colours. Enter Malcolm, old Siward and his Son,

Macduff, Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox, Ross, and

Soldiers, marching.

Mal. Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand

That chambers will be safe.

Ment.

We doubt it nothing.

The wood of Birnam.

Siw. What wood is this before us?

Ment.

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.

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 have given him the revolt,
And none serve with him but constrained
Whose hearts are absent too.

Macd.

F

things

Let our just censures

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

The time approaches,

Siw.
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.

SCENE V

[Exeunt, marching.

Dunsinane. Within the castle.

Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers, with drum and colours. 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 of women within.

What is that noise?

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 ell 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,

Wherefore was that cry?

Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.

Mach. She should have died hereafter;

There would have been a time for such a word.

[Exit.

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

Thou comest 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.

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!

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
Do come to Dunsinane;' and now a wood
Comes towards 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.

SCENE VI

Dunsinane. Before the castle.

[Exeunt.

Drum and colours. Enter Malcolm, old Siward, Macduff,

and their Army, with boughs.

Mal. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw down,
And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle,