Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

51

Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: heaven knows what she has known. Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still : all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!

Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.

Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body. Doct. Well, well, well.

Gent. Pray God it be, sir.

60

SCENE II. The Country near Dunsinane. Enter, with drum and colours, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, and Soldiers.

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.

11

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd
loon!
Where gott'st thou that goose look?
Serv. There is ten thousand-
Mach.
Serv.

Geese, villain!
Soldiers, st
Mach. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,

Ment. The English power is near, led on by Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch!

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.

Near Birnam wood

Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.

Caith. Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?

Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thite
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, wher

face?
Serv. The English force, so please you.
Exit Sermat
Mach. Take thy face hence.
Seyton! I am sick at heart
behold-Seyton, I say! This push

When I

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,
What does the tyrant? Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor

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.

10

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.

لا

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

reported.

Mach. I'll fight till from my bones my ffe)

be hack'd.

Give me my armour.

Mach. 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 of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
As life were in't. I have supp'd full with
horrors;

11

Doct. Aside. Were I from Dunsinane away Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, and clear,

Profit again should hardly draw me here.

Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Country near Birnam Wood.

Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, old SIWARD and his Son, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, Ross, and Soldiers, marching.

Cannot once start me.

Re-enter SEYTON.

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.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;

Mal. Cousins, I hope the days are near at And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

That chambers will be safe.

20

hand

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come, And more I beg not.

Young Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself For it hath cow'd my better part of man:

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.

They fight and young SIWARD is slain. To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's fre

And to be baited with the rabble's curse. Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born, Exit. Yet I will try the last: before my body

Mal. Weshall not spend a large expense of time
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you. My thanes and
kinsmen,

Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do
Which would be planted newly with the time,
As calling home our exil'd friends abroad
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers

Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen,

Took off her life; this, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace
We will perform in measure, time, and place:

Why then, God's soldier be he! Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands

He's worth more sorrow, So thanks to all at once and to each one,

Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
Flourish. Exeunt.

Fran. Nay, answer me; stand, and unfold yourself.

Ber. Long live the king!

Fran. Bernardo?

Ber. He.

Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour.

Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed,

Francisco.

Fran. For this relief much thanks; 'tis bitter

cold,

And I am sick at heart.

Ber. Have you had quiet guard?
Fran.

Not a mouse stirring. 10

Ber. Well, good night.

If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,

The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.

Fran. I think I hear them.

Stand, ho!

Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.

Who's there?

Hor. Friends to this ground.
Mar.

Fran. Give you good night.

Mar.

O! farewell, honest soldier:

Who hath reliev'd you ?
Fran.

Bernardo has my place

Give you good night.

Ezit

Mar.

Holla! Bernardo!

Ber.

Sar

Ber. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Mar

Mar. What! has this thing appear'd again to-night?

Ber. I have seen nothing.

Mar. Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy,
And will not let belief take hold of him
Touching this dreaded sight twice seen of us:
Therefore I have entreated him along
With us to watch the minutes of this night;
That if again this apparition come,
He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
Hor. Tush, tush! 'twill not appear.
Sit down awhile,

When yond same star that's westward from the pole

And liegemen to the Dane. Had made his course to illume that part of