SCENE I. Dunsinane. Ante-room in the castle
            Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman
            Doctor
            I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?
            Gentlewoman
            Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown 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.
            Doctor
            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?
            Gentlewoman
            That, sir, which I will not report after her.
            Doctor
            You may to me: and 'tis most meet you should.
            Gentlewoman
            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.
            Doctor
            How came she by that light?
            Gentlewoman
            Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually; 'tis her command.
            Doctor
            You see, her eyes are open.
            Gentlewoman
            Ay, but their sense is shut.
            Doctor
            What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.
            Gentlewoman
            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 MACBETH
            Yet here's a spot.
            Doctor
            Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
            LADY MACBETH
            Out, damned spot! out, I say!--One: two: why, then, 'tis time to do't.--Hell 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.
            Doctor
            Do you mark that?
            LADY MACBETH
            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.
            Doctor
            Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.
            Gentlewoman
            She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: heaven knows what she has known.
            LADY MACBETH
            Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh!
            Doctor
            What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.
            Gentlewoman
            I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body.
            Doctor
            Well, well, well,--
            Gentlewoman
            Pray God it be, sir.
            Doctor
            This disease is beyond my practise: yet I have known those which have walked in their sleep who have died holily in their beds.
            LADY MACBETH
            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.
            Doctor
            Even so?
            LADY MACBETH
            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
            Doctor
            Will she go now to bed?
            Gentlewoman
            Directly.
            Doctor
            Foul whisperings are abroad: unnatural deeds
            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 amazed my sight.
            I think, but dare not speak.
            Gentlewoman
            Good night, good doctor.
            Exeunt
            SCENE II. The country near Dunsinane
            Drum and colours. Enter MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, and Soldiers
            MENTEITH
            The English power is near, led on by 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.
            ANGUS
            Near Birnam wood
            Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
            CAITHNESS
            Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
            LENNOX
            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.
            MENTEITH
            What does the tyrant?
            CAITHNESS
            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.
            ANGUS
            Now does he feel
            His secret murders sticking on his hands;
            Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
            Those he commands move only in command,
            Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
            Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
            Upon a dwarfish thief.
            MENTEITH
            Who then shall blame
            His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
            When all that is within him does condemn
            Itself for being there?
            CAITHNESS
            Well, march we on,
            To give obedience where 'tis truly owed:
            Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
            And with him pour we in our country's purge
            Each drop of us.
            LENNOX
            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
            MACBETH
            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 pronounced me thus:
            'Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman
            Shall e'er have power upon thee.' Then fly, false thanes,
            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
            The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!
            Where got'st thou that goose look?
            Servant
            There is ten thousand--
            MACBETH
            Geese, villain!
            Servant
            Soldiers, sir.
            MACBETH
            Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
            Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?
            Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
            Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
            Servant
            The English force, so please you.
            MACBETH
            Take thy face hence.
            Exit Servant
            Seyton!--I am sick at heart,
            When I behold--Seyton, I say!--This push
            Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
            I have lived 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, and dare not. Seyton!
            Enter SEYTON
            SEYTON
            What is your gracious pleasure?
            MACBETH
            What news more?
            SEYTON
            All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
            MACBETH
            I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
            Give me my armour.
            SEYTON
            'Tis not needed yet.
            MACBETH
            I'll put it on.
            Send out more horses; skirr the country round;
            Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.
            How does your patient, doctor?
            Doctor
            Not so sick, my lord,
            As she is troubled with thick coming fancies,
            That keep her from her rest.
            MACBETH
            Cure her of that.
            Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
            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?
            Doctor
            Therein the patient
            Must minister to himself.
            MACBETH
            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, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, cast
            The water of my land, find her disease,
            And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
            I would applaud thee to the very echo,
            That should applaud again.--Pull't off, I say.--
            What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug,
            Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of them?
            Doctor
            Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
            Makes us hear something.
            MACBETH
            Bring it after me.
            I will not be afraid of death and bane,
            Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
            Doctor
            [Aside] Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
            Profit again should hardly draw me here.
            Exeunt
            SCENE IV. Country near Birnam wood
            Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD and YOUNG SIWARD, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, ROSS, and Soldiers, marching
            MALCOLM
            Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
            That chambers will be safe.
            MENTEITH
            We doubt it nothing.
            SIWARD
            What wood is this before us?
            MENTEITH
            The wood of Birnam.
            MALCOLM
            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.
            Soldiers
            It shall be done.
            SIWARD
            We learn no other but the confident tyrant
            Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
            Our setting down before't
            MALCOLM
            '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.
            MACDUFF
            Let our just censures
            Attend the true event, and put we on
            Industrious soldiership.
            SIWARD
            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 MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers, with drum and colours
            MACBETH
            Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
            The cry is still 'They come:' our castle's strength
            Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie
            Till famine and the ague eat them up:
            Were they not forced with those that should be ours,
            We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
            And beat them backward home.
            A cry of women within
            What is that noise?
            SEYTON
            It is the cry of women, my good lord.
            Exit
            MACBETH
            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 slaughterous thoughts
            Cannot once start me.
            Re-enter SEYTON
            Wherefore was that cry?
            SEYTON
            The queen, my lord, is dead.
            MACBETH
            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
            Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
            Messenger
            Gracious my lord,
            I should report that which I say I saw,
            But know not how to do it.
            MACBETH
            Well, say, sir.
            Messenger
            As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
            I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
            The wood began to move.
            MACBETH
            Liar and slave!
            Messenger
            Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:
            Within this three mile may you see it coming;
            I say, a moving grove.
            MACBETH
            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.
            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 out!
            If this which he avouches does appear,
            There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.
            I gin to be aweary 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.
            Exeunt
            SCENE VI. Dunsinane. Before the castle
            Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MACDUFF, and their Army, with boughs
            MALCOLM
            Now near enough: your leafy screens throw down.
            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 's what else remains to do,
            According to our order.
            SIWARD
            Fare you well.
            Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
            Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
            MACDUFF
            Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
            Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
            Exeunt
            SCENE VII. Another part of the field
            Alarums. Enter MACBETH
            MACBETH
            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
            YOUNG SIWARD
            What is thy name?
            MACBETH
            Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
            YOUNG SIWARD
            No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
            Than any is in hell.
            MACBETH
            My name's Macbeth.
            YOUNG SIWARD
            The devil himself could not pronounce a title
            More hateful to mine ear.
            MACBETH
            No, nor more fearful.
            YOUNG SIWARD
            Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
            I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
            They fight and YOUNG SIWARD is slain
            MACBETH
            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
            MACDUFF
            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 kerns, whose arms
            Are hired to bear their staves: either thou, Macbeth,
            Or else my sword with an unbatter'd edge
            I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
            By this great clatter, one of greatest note
            Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
            And more I beg not.
            Exit. Alarums
            Enter MALCOLM and SIWARD
            SIWARD
            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 itself professes yours,
            And little is to do.
            MALCOLM
            We have met with foes
            That strike beside us.
            SIWARD
            Enter, sir, the castle.
            Exeunt. Alarums
             
            SCENE VIII. Another part of the field
            Enter MACBETH
            MACBETH
            Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
            On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes
            Do better upon them.
            Enter MACDUFF
            MACDUFF
            Turn, hell-hound, turn!
            MACBETH
            Of all men else I have avoided thee:
            But get thee back; my soul is too much charged
            With blood of thine already.
            MACDUFF
            I have no words:
            My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
            Than terms can give thee out!
            They fight
            MACBETH
            Thou losest labour:
            As easy mayst 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.
            MACDUFF
            Despair thy charm;
            And let the angel whom thou still hast served
            Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
            Untimely ripp'd.
            MACBETH
            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 believed,
            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.
            MACDUFF
            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 on a pole, and underwrit,
            'Here may you see the tyrant.'
            MACBETH
            I will 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 opposed, 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. Alarums
            Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, SIWARD, ROSS, the other Thanes, and Soldiers
            MALCOLM
            I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.
            SIWARD
            Some must go off: and yet, by these I see,
            So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
            MALCOLM
            Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
            ROSS
            Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
            He only lived 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.
            SIWARD
            Then he is dead?
            ROSS
            Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
            Must not be measured by his worth, for then
            It hath no end.
            SIWARD
            Had he his hurts before?
            ROSS
            Ay, on the front.
            SIWARD
            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.
            MALCOLM
            He's worth more sorrow,
            And that I'll spend for him.
            SIWARD
            He's worth no more
            They say he parted well, and paid his score:
            And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.
            Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head
            MACDUFF
            Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, where stands
            The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
            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
            MALCOLM
            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 kinsmen,
            Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
            In such an honour named. What's more to do,
            Which would be planted newly with the time,
            As calling home our exiled friends abroad
            That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
            Producing forth the cruel ministers
            Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen,
            Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
            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:
            So, thanks to all at once and to each one,
            Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
            Flourish. Exeunt
            - - - The End - - -
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