Macb.
They have ty'd me to a stake; I cannot fly,
But, bear-like, I must fight the course^{2 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.

Yo. Siw.
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st. [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 born. [Exit. Alarums. Enter Macduff.

Macd.
That way the noise is:—Tyrant, shew 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^{3 note}

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 sword? 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 sword; thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out! [Fight. Alarum.

Macb.
Thou losest labour:
As easy may'st thou the ^{4 note}

With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
^{5 note}

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,
For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That ^{6 note}

Macd.
Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the shew and gaze o'the 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 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 oppos'd, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last: Before my body
I throw my warlike shield 9Q0578: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough^{7 note}

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 dy'd.

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!
^{9 note}

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, God be with him!—Here comes newer comfort. Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head.

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 ^{1 note}