SCENE I.
Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.
Enter a Doctor of Physick, and a waiting Gentlewoman.
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 field4 note
, I
-- 239 --
have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown
upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper,
fold it, write upon it, 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 slumbry agitation, besides her
walking, and other actual performances, what, at
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
should.
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?
Gent.
Why, it stood by her: she has light by
her continually; 'tis her command.
Doct.
You see, her eyes are open6 note
.
-- 240 --
Gent.
Ay, but their sense are shut7 note
.
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 spot8 note
.
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; Two9 note; Why, then 'tis time to do't:—
-- 241 --
Hell is murky1 note
!—Fye, my lord, fye! a soldier, and
afear'd? 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 him2 note
?
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 starting3 note.
-- 242 --
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
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 of his grave.
Doct.
Even so?
Lady M.
To bed, to bed; there's knocking at
the gate4 note. Come, come, come, come, give me your
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 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;
-- 243 --
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her:—So, good night:
My mind she has mated5 note
, and amaz'd my sight:
I think, but dare not speak.
Gent.
Good night, good doctor.
[Exeunt.
-- 244 --
SCENE II.
The Country near Dunsinane.
Enter, with Drum and Colours, Menteth, Cathness, Angus, Lenox, and Soldiers.
Ment.
The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Siward6 note, and the good Macduff,
Revenges burn in them: for their dear causes
Would, to the bleeding, and the grim alarm,
Excite the mortified man7 note
.
Ang.
Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
Cath.
Who knows, if Donalbain be with his brother?
Len.
For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
-- 245 --
Of all the gentry; there is Siward's son,
And many unrough youths8 note
, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.
Ment.
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 rule9 note
.
Ang.
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.
Ment.
Who then shall blame
His pester'd senses to recoil, and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself, for being there1 note
?
Cath.
Well, march we on,
To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd:
Meet we the medecin2 note of the sickly weal;
-- 246 --
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 weeds3 note
.
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 all4 note;
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 thus5 note
:
Fear not, Macbeth; no man, that's born of woman,
Shall e'er have power upon thee6 note.—Then fly, false thanes,
-- 247 --
And mingle with the English epicures7 note
:
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sagg with doubt8 note
, nor shake with fear.
-- 248 --
Enter a Servant.
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon9 note
!
Where got'st thou that goose look1 note
?
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 boy2 note
. What soldiers, patch3 note?
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear4 note
. What soldiers, whey-face5 note?
-- 249 --
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 now6 note
.
I have liv'd long enough: my way of life7 note
-- 250 --
Is fall'n into the sear8 note
, the yellow leaf:
And that which should accompany old age,
-- 251 --
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead.
-- 252 --
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not.
Seyton!—
-- 253 --
Enter Seyton.
Sey.
What is your gracious pleasure?
Macb.
What news more?
Sey.
All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
Macb.
I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
Give me my armour.
Sey.
'Tis not needed yet.
Macb.
I'll put it on.
-- 254 --
Send out more horses, skirr the country round9 note
;
Hang those that talk of fear1 note.—Give me mine armour.—
How does your patient, doctor?
Doct.
Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her2 note from her rest.
Macb.
Cure her of that:
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd3 note
;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote4 note
,
-- 255 --
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff5 note
,
Which weighs upon the heart?
-- 256 --
Doct.
Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
Macb.
Throw physick 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 land6 note
, 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.—
-- 257 --
What rhubarb, senna6 note
, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence?—Hear'st thou of them?
Doct.
Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
Makes us hear something.
Macb.
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, Malcolm, old
Siward and his Son, Macduff, Menteth, Cathness,
Angus, Lenox, Rosse, and Soldiers marching.
Mal.
Cousins, I hope, the days are near at hand,
That chambers will be safe.
Ment.
We doubt it nothing.
Siw.
What wood is this before us?
Ment.
The wood of Birnam.
Mal.
Let every soldier hew him down a bough7 note
,
-- 258 --
And bear't before him; thereby shall we shadow
The numbers of our host, and make discovery
Err in report of us.
Sold.
It shall be done.
Siw.
We learn no other, but the confident tyrant8 note
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down before't.
Mal.
'Tis his main hope:
For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less have given him the revolt9 note
;
-- 259 --
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.
Macd.
Let our just censures
Attend the true event1 note
, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.
Siw.
The time approaches,
That will with due decision make us know
What we shall say we have, and what we owe2 note
.
-- 260 --
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate;
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate2 note
:
Towards which, advance the war3 note
.
[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;
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 forc'd with those that should be ours,
-- 261 --
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home. What is that noise?
[A cry within, of Women.
Sey.
It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Macb.
I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
The time has been4 note, my senses would have cool'd
To hear a night-shriek5 note
; and my fell of hair6 note
-- 262 --
Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir
As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors7 note
;
Direness, familiar to my slaughterous 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 word8 note
.—
-- 263 --
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow9 note
,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time1 note
;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death2 note
. Out, out, brief candle!
-- 264 --
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 com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
Mess.
Gracious my lord,
I shall report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to do't.
Macb.
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.
Macb.
Liar, and slave!
[Striking him3 note.
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.
Macb.
If thou speak'st false,
-- 265 --
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling thee4 note
: if thy speech be sooth,
-- 266 --
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 truth4 note
: Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane;—and now a wood
-- 267 --
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 a-weary of the sun5 note
,
And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.—
Ring the alarum bell:—Blow, wind! come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness6 note
on our back.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
The Same. A Plain before the Castle.
Enter, with Drums and Colours, Malcolm, old
Siward, Macduff, &c. and their Army, with Boughs.
Mal.
Now near enough; your leavy 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 us* note what else remains to do,
According to our order.
Siw.
Fare you well.—
-- 268 --
Do we 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,
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
[Exeunt. Alarums continued.
SCENE VII.
The Same. Another Part of the Plain.
Enter Macbeth.
Macb.
They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
But, bear-like, I must fight the course7 note
.—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'st thyself a hotter name
Than any is in hell.
Macb.
My name's Macbeth.
Yo. Siw.
The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.
Macb.
No, nor more fearful.
-- 269 --
Yo. Siw.
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
[They fight, and young Siward is slain.
Macb.
Thou wast born of woman.—
But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born8 note.
[Exit.
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 sheathe again undeeded. There thou should'st be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited9 note
: Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not1 note
.
[Exit. Alarum.
-- 270 --
Enter Malcolm and old 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 itself professes yours,
And little is to do.
Mal.
We have met with foes
That strike beside us.
Siw.
Enter, sir, the castle.
[Exeunt. Alarum.
Re-enter Macbeth.
Macb.
Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
On mine own sword3 note
? whiles I see lives, the gashes
Do better upon them.
Re-enter Macduff.
Macd.
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.
Macd.
I have no words,
My voice is in my sword4 note
; thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!
[They fight.
Macb.
Thou losest labour:
-- 271 --
As easy may'st thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed5 note
:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
I bear a charmed life6 note
, which must not yield
To one of woman born.
Macd.
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,
-- 272 --
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 sense7 note
;
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 pole8 note
; and underwrit,
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
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough9 note
.
[Exeunt, fighting.
-- 273 --
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 arriv'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 of sorrow
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
It hath no end.
Siw.
Had he his hurts before?
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'd1 note
.
-- 274 --
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:
And so, God2 note be with him!—Here comes newer comfort.
Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's Head on a Pole3 note
.
Macd.
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 pearl4 note
,
-- 275 --
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,—
Hail, king of Scotland!
All.
Hail, king of Scotland5 note
!
[Flourish.
Mal.
We shall not spend a large expence of time6 note,
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 nam'd7 note
. What's more to do,
-- 276 --
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
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. Exeunt8.
