Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should A modern ecstacy; the dead man's knell

And does blaspheme his breed?-Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king: the queen, that bore thee,
Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet,

Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!

These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself

Have banish'd me from Scotland.-0, my breast,

[once,

The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,"

Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth
More needs she the divine than the physician.
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
[may; God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
The night is long that never finds the day.
[Exe. 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. [Exe.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a waiting Gentle

woman.

Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?

Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon 't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

Doct. A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching.-In this slumbery agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances, what, at any time, have you heard her say?

should.

Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her. Doct. You may, to me; and 't is inost meet you Gent. Neither to you, nor any one; having no witness to confirm iny speech.

Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper.

Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her: stand close.

Doct. How came she by that light?

Cath. 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 murthers sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
Those he coinmands move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe

Gent. Why, it stood by her she has light by her Upon a dwarfish thief.

continually; 't is her command.

Doct. You see, her eyes are open.

Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.

Doct. What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her hands.

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands. I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Lady M. Yet here's a spot.

Doct. Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say!-One; Two: Why, then 't is time to do 't!-Heil is murky -Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard! What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?-Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him!

Doct. Do you mark that?

Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife; Where is she now?-What, will these hands ne'er be clean? -No more o' that, my lord, no more o' that you mar all with this starting.

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

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! [charged.

Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely Gent. I would not have such a heart in iny 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 night. gown; look not so pale-I tell you yet again, Banquo 's buried; he cannot come out on 's grave.

Doct. Even so?

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?
Cath.

Well, march we on,

To give obedience where 't is 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. 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.
Macb. 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 pronounc'd me thus:
'Fear not, Macbeth; no man that 's born of woman
Shall e'er have power upon thee.' Then fly, false
And mingle with the English epicures: [thanes,
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,

Shall never sagg with doubt, nor shake with fear.

Enter a Servant.

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

Macb. Geese, villain? Serv. Soldiers, sir.
Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch? patch?
Death of thy soul! those linen checks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
Serv. The English force, so please you

Mach. Take thy face hence. -Seyton!-I am sick
at heart,

When I behold-Seyton, I say !-This push Will cheer me ever, or dis-seat me now. I have liv'd long enough: my way of life Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf: Lady M. To bed, to bed; there 's knocking at And that which should accompany old age, the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, hand. What's done cannot be undone; To bed, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, to bed, to bed. [Exit Lady Macbeth. Curses not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Doct. Will she go now to bed? Gent. Directly. Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.

Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad: Unnatural Seyton!

deeds

Do breed unnatural troubles: Infected minds

To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.

Enter Seyton.

Sey. All is confirım'd, my lord, which was reported. Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
Macb. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be
Give me my armour.
[hack'd.
Sey.

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;
Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.-Wherefore was that cry?
Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.

Mach. She should have died hereafter;

Not so sick, my lord, There would have been a time for such a word.

I 'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

Macb.

[They fight, and young Siward is slain. 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. Alarums. Enter Macduff.

face:

Macd. That way the noise is:-Tyrant, show thy
If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms
Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,

I sheathe 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. Alarum.

Enter Malcolm and old Siward.
Siw. This way, my lord; the castle 's gently ren-
The tyrant's people on both sides do fight; (der'd:
The noble thanes do bravely in the war;

The day almost itself professes yours,

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
I throw my warlike shield lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough."
[Exeunt, fighting.
Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter, with drum and
colours, Malcolm, old Siward, Rosse, Lenox,
Angus, Cathness, Menteth, and Soldiers.

Mal. I would the friends we miss were safe ar-
riv'd.

Siw. Some must go off; and yet, by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Rosse. 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 prowess confirm'd,
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died. Siw. Then he is dead?
Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause

And little is to do. Mal. We have met with foes Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then

That strike beside us.
Siw.

of sorrow

Enter, sir, the castle,

It hath no end.
Siw.

Had he his hurts before?

[Exeunt. Alarum.

Rosse. 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 sorrow,

And that I'll spend for him.

Siw.
He's worth no more;
They say, he parted well, and paid his score: [fort.
And so, God be with him! - Here comes newer com.

Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head.

Macd. Hail, king for so thou art: Behold, where
The usurper's cursed head: the time is free: [stands
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,-
Hail, king of Scotland!
All.

Hail, king of Scotland!

[Flourish.
Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time,
Before we reckon with your several loves, [men,
And make us even with you. My thanes and kins
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

Despair thy charm;

And let the angel whom thou still hast serv'd
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.

Macb. Accursed be the tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cow'd iny 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. Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,