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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.

Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in their beds.

Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale. I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out on's grave. Doct. Even so ?


Lady M. To bed, to bed: there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed. Exit.

Doct. Will she go now to bed?
Gent. Directly.

Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad. Unnatural

Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets;
More needs she the divine than the physician.
God, God forgive us all! Look after her;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night:
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight.
I think, but dare not speak.

Gent. Good night, good doctor.



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.


Near Birnam wood

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



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.
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.



Who then shall blame
His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself for being there?

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Well, march we on,
To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd;
Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
And with him pour we in our country's purge
Each drop of us.


Or so much as it needs
To dew the sovereign flower and drown the

Make we our march towards Birnam.
Ereunt, marching.

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon !

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

Where gott'st thou that goose look ?
Serv. There is ten thousand-

Geese, villain!

Soldiers, sit. Ment. The English power is near, led on by Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch! Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,


Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thire
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-

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Serv. The English force, so please you.
Macb. Take thy face hence. Exit Servant.
When I behold-Seyton, I say!--This push *
Seyton!-I am sick at heart
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,
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor,

Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare


Sey. What is your gracious pleasure?
What news more!
Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was

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Mach. I'll fight till from my bones my flest

be hack'd.

Give me my armour.




'Tis not needed yet.


Let our just censures Macb. I'll put it on.

Attend the true event, and put we on
Send out more horses, skirr the country round; Industrious soldiership.
Hang those that talk of fear, Give me mine Siw.

The time approaches armour.

That will with due decision make us know How does your patient, doctor ?

What we shall say we have and what we owe. Doct.

Not so sick, my lord, Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate, As she is troubled with tbick-coming fancies, But certain issue strokes must arbitrate, That keep her from her rest.

Towards which advance the war. Macb. · Cure her of that:

Exeunt, marching. Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'a, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,

SCENE V.-Dunsinane. Within the Castle. Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote

Enter, with drum and colours, MACBETH, Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff

SEYTON, and Soldiers. Which weighs upon the heart?

Mach. Hang out our banners on the outward Doct. Therein the patient

walls ; Must minister to himself,

The cry is still ‘They come !' our ca: tle's Macb. Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none strength of it.

Will laugh a siege to scorn; here let them lie Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff. Till famine and the ague eat them up; Seyton, send out-Doctor, the thanes fly from me. Were they not forc'd with those that should be Come, sir, dispatch.-If thou could'st, doctor,

ours, cast

50 We might have met them dareful, beard to The water of my land, find her disease,

beard, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, And beat them backward home. I would applaud thee to the very echo,

A cry of women within. That should applaud again.--Pull’t off, I say.-

What is that noise ? What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. Would scour these English hence ? Hear'st

Erit. thon of them?

Macb. I bave almost forgot the taste of fears. Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation The time has been my senses would have cool'd Makes us hear something.

To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair Mach.

Bring it after me, Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir I will not be afraid of death and bane

As life were in 't. I have supp'd full with Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

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

Cannot once start me. Profit again should hardly draw me here.


Re-enter SEYTON.

Wherefore was that cry? SCENE IV.-Country near Birnam Wood. Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, old SIWARD There would have been a time for such a word.

Mach. She should have died hereafter ; and his Son, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITH- To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, NESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, Ross, and Soldiers, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, marching.

To the last syllable of recorded time; Mal. Cousins, I hope the days are at And all our yesterdays have lighted fools hand

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief That chambers will be safe.

candle! Ment.

We doubt it nothing. Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player Siw. What wood is this before us?

That struts and frets his bour upon the stage, Ment.

The wood of Birnam. And then is heard po more ; it is a tale Mal. Let every soldier hew him down a Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, bough

Signifying nothing. And bear’t before him : thereby shall we

Enter a Messenger. shadow The numbers of our host, and make discovery Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story Err in report of us.

quickly. Sold. It shall be done.

Mess. Gracious my lord, Siw. We learn no other but the confident I should report that which I say I saw, tyrant

But know not how to do it. Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure


Well, say, sir. Our setting down before 't.

Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, Mal.

"Tis his main hope ; 10 I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought, For where there is advantage to be given, The wood began to move. Both more and less hath given him the revolt, Macb.

Liar and slave ! And none serve with him but constrained Mess. Let me endure your wrath if 't be not so: things

Within this three mile may you see it coming ; Whose hearts are absent too.

I say, a moving grove.


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30 41

If thou speak'st false,

Alarums. Enter MACDUFF.
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling thee ; if thy speech be sooth,

Mard. That way the noise is. Tyrant, show I care not if thou dost for me as much.

thy face: I pull in resolution, and begin

If thou be’st slain and with no stroke of mine, To doubt the equivocation of the fiend

My wife and children's ghost will haunt me still That lies like truth; *Fear not till Birnam wood I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms Do come to Dunsinane'; and now a wood

Are hir'd to bear their staves : either thou, Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!

Macbeth, If this which he avouches does appear,

Or else my sword with an unbatter'd edge There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. I sheathe again undeeded. There thou I'gin to be aweary of the sun,

should'st be ; And wish the estate o' the world were now By this great clatter, one of greatest note undone.

50 Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune! Ring the alarum-bell ! Blow, wind ! come,

Aud more I beg not.

Exit. Alarum wrack! At least we'll die with harness on our back.

Enter: MALCOLM and old SIWARD.

Siw. This way, my lord ; the castle's gently

render'd : SCENE VI.— The Same. A Plain before the

The tyrant's people on both sides do fight; Castle.

The noble thanes do bravely in the war ; Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old The day almost itself professes yours,

SIWARD, MACDUFF, etc., and their Army, with And little is to do. boughs.


We have met with foes

That strike beside us. Mal. Now, near enough ; your leavy screens Siw,

Enter, sir, the castle. throw down,

Excunt. Alarums And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle, Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,

Re-enter MACBETH. Lead our first battle; worthy Macduff and we Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, Shall take upon 's what else remains to do,

and die According to our order.

On mine own sword ? whiles I see lives, the gashes
Fare you well.

Do better upon them.
Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.

Re-enter MACDUFF.
Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give

Macd. them all breath,

Turn, hell-hound, torn! Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd

Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee:

With blood of thine already.

I have no words; SCENE VII. - The Same. Another Part of the

My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain

Than terms can give thee out ! They fight.

Thou losest labour:
Alarums. Enter MACBETH.

As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air Macb. They have tied me to a stake; I can- With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed : not fly,

Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; But bear-like I must fight the course. What’s he I bear a charmed life, which must not yield That was not born of woman? Such a one To one of woman born. Am I to fear, or none.


Despair thy charm :

And let the angel whom thou still hast serv'd Enter young SIWARD.

Tell thee. Macduff was from his mother's womb Young Siw. What is thy name?

Untimely ripp'd. Macb.

Thou 'lt be afraid to hear it, Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tells meso, Young Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself For it hath cow'd my better part of man : a hotter name

And be these juggling fiends no more belier'd, Than any is in hell.

That palter with us in a double sense ; Macb.

My name 's Macbeth. That keep the word of promise to our ear, Young Siw. The devil himself could not And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thce. pronounce a title

Macd. Then yield thee, coward, More hateful to mine ear.

And live to be the show and gaze o' the time: Macb.

No, nor more fearful. 'We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, Young Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; Painted upon a pole, and underwrit, with my sword

10 Here may you see the tyrant.' I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.


I will not viell. They fight and young SIWARD is slain. To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, Mach.

Thou wast born of woman : And to be baited with the rabble's curse. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Though Birnam wood be come to Duosinane, Brandish'd by man that 's of a woman bord. And thou oppos’d, being of no woman born,

Exit,' Yet I will try the last : before my body


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I throw my war-like shield. Lay on, Macduff, They say, he parted well, and paid his score : And damn'd be him that first cries ‘Hold, And so, God be with him! Here comes newer enough!'

Excunt, fighting. comfort. Retreat. Plourish. Re-enter, with drum and Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head. colours, Malcolm, old SIWARD, Ross, Thanes,

Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art. Behold, and Soldiers.

where stands Mal. I would the friends we miss were safe The usurper's cursed bead : the time is free : arriv'd.

I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
Siw. Some must go off ; and yet, by these I see, That speak my salutation in their minds;
So great a day as this is cheaply bought. Whose voices I desire aloud with mine;

Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son, Hail, King of Scotland !
Ross. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's All,

Hail, King of Scotland ! debt :

Flourish. He only liv'd but till he was a man;

Mal. Weshall not spend a large expense of time The which no sooner had bis prowess confirm's Before we reckon with your several loves, In the unshrinking station where he fought, 71 And make us even with you. My thanes and But like a man he died.

kinsmen, Siv.

Then he is dead ? Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland Ross. Ay, and brought off the field. Your In such an honour nam’d. What's more to do cause of sorrow

Which would be planted newly with the time, Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then As calling home our exil'd friends abroad It hath no end.

That fled the shares of watchful tyranny ; Siv.

Had he his hurts before? Producing forth the cruel ministers Ross. Ay, on the front.

Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen, Siro.

Why then, God's soldier be he! Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands Had I as many sons as I have hairs,

Took off her life ; tbis, and what needful else I would not wish them to a fairer death: That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace And so, his knell is knollid.

We will perform in measure, time, and place: Mal.

He's worth more sorrow, So thanks to all at once and to each one, And that I'll spend for him.

Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone. Sir, He's worth no more ; 80

Plourish. Exeunt.



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SCENE I.-Elsinore. A Platform before the

Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers, and Attendants.
Ghost of Hamlet's Father.

FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him

Ber. Who's there?

Fran. Nay, answer me; stand, and unfold


English Ambassadors.


Two Clowns, Grave-diggers.

GERTRUDE, Queen of Denmark, and Mother to


OPHELIA, Daughter to Polonius.

Who hath reliev'd you?

Give you good night.


What is Horatio there?
A piece of him.
Ber. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Mar
Mar. What has this thing appear'd again


O farewell, honest soldier:

Bernardo has my place

Holla! Bernardo!


Ber. Long live the king!

Fran. Bernardo?

Ber. He.

Fran. You come most carefully upon your

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

Fran. For this relief much thanks; 'tis bitter

And I am sick at heart.

Ber. Have you had quiet guard?

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!

Who's there?


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,
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.
Well, sit we dowt
And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
Ber. Last night of all,

When yond same star that's westward from the

Hor. Friends to this ground.



And liegemen to the Dane. Had made his course to illume that part of Fran. Give you good night. heaven

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