Imatges de pÓgina

the stage,

my watch

the hill,

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: duskylb death. Out, out, brief candk!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon
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'ft to use thy tongue: thy story quickly.

Mes. My gracious Lord,
I should report that which, .'I'd say, I saw,
But know not how to do't.

Macb. Well, say it, Sir.
Mef. As I did stand

I look'd toward Birnam, and anon methought
The wood began to move,
Macb. Liar, and save!

[Striking bim
Mes. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not fo:
Within this three mile you may fee 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 do'st for me as much.
I pull in resolution, and begin
To doubt th’equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth. Fear not, 'till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane, and now a wood
Comes toward Dunfinane. Arm, arm, and out !
If this which he avouches does appear,
There is no flying hence, nor carrying here;
I’gin to be a weary of the fun,

And (a) Dusky graves. Rich. 3. 373. and the infernal God is called dusky Dis, Temp. 55.

2 dusty...old edit, Theob, emend,

3 I

And wish the state o'th' world were now undone,
Ring the alarum bell, blow wind, come wrack,
At least we'll die with harness on our back.


S c с Е Ν Ε VI.

Before Dunfinane.
Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, and their Army,

with Boughs.
Mal. TO W near enough: your leavy screens throw

And shew like thofe you are. You (worthy uncle)
Shall with my cousing your right noble son,

Lead our first battel. Brave Macduff and we
E Shall take upon's what else remains to do,
According to our order.

Siw. Fare you well: * Let us 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, 3 Those clam'rous harbingers of blood and death. [Exeunt.

[Alarums continued.
Enter Macbeth,
Macb. They've tyd 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 it thy self a hotter name
Than any is in hell.
Macb. My name's Macbeth.

Yo. Siw.

Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce a tick More hateful to mine ear.

Macb. No, nor more fearful.

Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my swot I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

[Fight, and young Siward's fizis. Macb. Thou wast born of woman; But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Brandilh'd by man that's of a woman born. [Exi

Alarums. Enter Macduff. Macd. That way the noise is: Tyrant, shew thy face; If thou be'st Nain, and with no stroke of mine, My wife and childrens ghosts will haunt me ftill. I cannot strike at wretched Kerns, whose arms Are hir'd to bear their ftaves: Or thou, Macbeth, Or elfe my sword with an unbatter'd edge I sheath again undeeded. There thou should'st be — By this great clatter one of greatest note Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune! and More I beg not.

[Exit. Alarua, Enter Malcolm and Siward. Siw. This way, my Lord; the castle's gently render'd; The tyrant's people on both sides do fight, The noble Thanes do bravely in the war, The day almost it self professes yours, And little is to do.

Mal. We've met with foes That strike beside us.

Siw. Enter, Sir, the castle. [Exeunt. Alarka,



Enter Macbeth.
Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
On mine own sword ? whilft I fee lives, the galhes
Do better upon them.


To him, enter Macduff.
Macd. Turn, hell-hound, turn.

Macb. Of all men eise I have avoided thee:
But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd
With blood of thine already.

Macd. I've no words,
My voice is in my sword. Thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out! [Fight. Alarum.

Macb. Thou losest labour,
As easie may'st thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests,
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.

Macd. Despair thy charm,
And let the angel whom thou still haft serv'd
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.

Macb. Accurfed be that tongue that tells me so;
For it hath cow'd my better part of man:
And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope! I'll not fight with thee.

Macd. Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the Thew, and gaze o' th' time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and under-writ,
Here may you see the Tyrant.

Macb. I'll not yield
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
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;
Yet I will try the last. Before my body
1 throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,
And damn'd be he, that first cries hold, enough.

[Exeunt fighting. Alarum.


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Retreat and Flourish. Enter with Drum and Colours, M.

colm, Siward, Roffe, Thanes, and Soldiers. Mal. I would the friends we miss were safe arriv'd.

Siw. Some must go off: and yet by these I fee, So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble fon.

Rolle. Your son, my Lord, has paid a soldier's debt; He only liv'd but till he was a man, The which no sooner had his 4' prowess' confirm'd In the unshrinking station where he fought, But like a man he dy'd. Siw. Then is he dead?

{row Rose. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of fosMust

not be measur'd by his worth, for then It hath no end.

Siw. Had he hurts before?
Roje. Ay, on the front.

Siw. Why then, God's soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knoll'd.

Mal. He's worth more forrow,
And that I'll spend for him.

Siw. He's worth no more ;
They say he parted well, and paid his score,
So God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.

Enter Macduff with Macbeth's bead.

Macd. Hail, King! for so thou art. Behold, where Th'usurper's cursed head; the time is free: [stands I see thee compast with thy kingdom's peers, That speak my falutation in their minds: Whose yoices I desire aloud with mine.


4 prow'ls

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