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That were most precious to me.-Did heaven look-Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afear'd? What

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And braggart with my tongue!-But, gentle heaven,
Cut short all intermission; front to front,
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you

The night is long, that never finds the day.



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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!

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.

Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: Yet 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 of his grave. Doct. Even so?

the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your
Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at
hand; What's done, cannot be undone: To bed,
to bed, to bed.
[Exit Lady Macbeth.
Doct. Will she go now to bed?
Gent. Directly.

Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad: Unnatural

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, Do breed unnatural troubles: Infected minds fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards seal it, and To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. again return to bed; yet all this while in a most More needs she the divine, than the sleep. 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: think, but dare not speak. Good night, good doctor. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The country near Dunsinane. Enter, with drum and colours, Menteth, Cathness, Angus, Lenox, and Soldiers.

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

Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her.
Doct. You may, to me; and 'tis most meet you


Gent. Neither to you, nor any one, having no witness to confirm my 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?



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Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by Ang. her continually; 'tis 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 'tis time to do't:-Hell is murky !2

(1) All pause. (2) Dark. (3) Confounded.

Near Birnam wood Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming. Cath. 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?
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.

Now does he feel

(4) A religious; an ascetic. (5) Unbearded.

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Well, march we on,

To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd:
Meet we the medicin' 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 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 consequents, pronounc'd me thus:
Fear not, Macbeth; no man, that's born of woman,
Shall e'er have power on thee.-Then fly, false

And mingle with the English epicures:
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sagg with doubt, nor shake with fear.
Enter a Servant.

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

Cure her of that:
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;
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?

Must minister to himself.

Therein the patient

Macb. 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, despatch :-If thou could'st, doctor, cast
The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
That should applaud again.-Pull't off, I say.-
I would applaud thee to the very echo,
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence ?-Hearest thou

of them?

Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
Makes us hear something."

Bring it after me.———
I will not be afraid of death and bane,
Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. [Exit.
Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
Profit again should hardly draw me here. [Exit.
SCENE IV.-Country near Dunsinane: A wood
in view. Enter, with drum and colours, Mal-
colm, Old Siward and his Son, Macduff, Men-
teth, Cathness, Angus, Lenox, Rosse, and Sol-

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

Geese, villain?
Soldiers, sir.
Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch ?4
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
Serv. The English force, so please you.
Macb. Take thy face hence.-Seyton!-I am
sick at heart,

When I behold-Seyton, I say!-This push
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-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not.

Enter Seyton.

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Mal. Cousins, I hope, the days are near at hand
That chambers will be safe.
We doubt it nothing.
Siw. What wood is this before us?
The wood of Birnam.
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.

It shall be done.

Siw. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down befor't.


"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 things,
Whose hearts are absent too.
Attend the true event, and put we on
Let our just censures
Industrious soldiership.

The time approaches,
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.

[Exeunt, marching. SCENE V.-Dunsinane. Within the castle. Enter, with drums and colours, Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers..

Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward walls;

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The cry is still, They come: Our castle's strength Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie, Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. Till famine, and the ague, eat them up: Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours, all breath, We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. And beat them backward home. What is that noise? [Exeunt. Alarums continued. [A cry within, of women. SCENE VII.-The same. Another part of the plain. Enter Macbeth.

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 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.

Macb. 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;
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
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.-

Enter a Messenger.

Macb. They have tied 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?
'Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hot-
ter name
Than any is in hell.
My name's Macbeth.
Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce

a title
More hateful to mine ear.

No, nor more fearful.
Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my

I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

[They fight, and Young Siward is slain. Thou wast born of woman.

Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Mess. Gracious my lord,

I shall report that which I say I saw,

But know not how to do it.


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.
Liar, and slave!
[Striking him.
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.

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.-

Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. [Ex.
Alarums. Enter Macduff.

Macd. That way the noise is:-Tyrant, show
thy face:

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 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. Alarum.
Enter Malcolm and Old Siward.
Siw. This way, my lord ;-the castle's gently


The tyrant's people on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
out!—And little is to do.
The day almost itself professes yours,

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 toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and
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.


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Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die

SCENE VI.-The same. A plain before the cas-On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes tle. Enter, with drums and colours, Malcolm. Do better upon them. Old Siward, Macduff, &c. and their army, with boughs.

Mal. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw

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

Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff, and we,
Shall take upon us what else remains to do,
According to our order.

(1) Skin.

Fare you well.—

(2) Shrivel.


Re-enter Macduff.

Turn, hell-hound, turn. Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee: But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd With blood of thine already.


I have no words,

My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!

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[They fight. Thou loosest labour:

(5) Reported with clamour.

As easy may'st thou the entrenchant air1
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.


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 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 show and gaze o'the time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole; and underwrit,
Here may you see the tyrant.


To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
I'll not yield
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.
colours, Malcolm, Old Siward, Rosse, Lenox,
Re-enter, with drum and
Angus, Cathness, Menteth, and soldiers.
Mal. I would, the friends we miss were safe ar-

Retreat. Flourish.

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.


Then he is dead?

Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow

Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then

It hath no end.


Had he his hurts before?

Rosse. Aye, on the front.

Act V.

He's worth more sorrow,

And that I'll spend for him.
He's worth no more;
They say, he parted well, and paid his score:
So, God be with him!-Here comes newer comfort.
Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head on a pole.

Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art: Behold,
The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
where stands
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,3
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,-
Hail, king of Scotland!

King of Scotland, hail!
Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time,
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you. My thanes and kins-


In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do,
Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
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

Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen;
Took off her life;-This, and what needful else
So thanks to all at once, and to each one,
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
We will perform in measure, time, and place:

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

This play is deservedly celebrated for the propriety of its fiction, and solemnity, grandeur, and variety of its action; but it has no nice discriminations of character; the events are too great to admit the influence of particular dispositions, and the course of the action necessarily determines the conduct of the agents.

The danger of ambition is well described; and I know not whether it may not be said, in defence of some parts which now seem improbable, that in Shakspeare's time it was necessary to warn credulity against vain and illusive predictions.

The passions are directed to their true end. Lady Why then, God's soldier be he! Macbeth is merely detested; and though the cou rage of Macbeth preserves some esteem, yet every reader rejoices at his fall.

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.

(1) The air, which cannot be cut. (2) Shuffle.


(3) The kingdom's wealth or ornament.

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