Lady.
I have seen her rise from her bed, throw
Her Night-Gown on 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.

Seat.
'Tis strange she should receive the Benefit
Of sleep, and do the Effects of waking.
In this disorder what at any time have
You heard her say?

Lady.
That Sir, which I will not report of her.

Seat.
You may to me; and 'tis most meet you shou'd.

Lady.
Neither to You, nor any one living;
Having no witness to confirm my Speech.

Enter Lady Macbeth.
See here she comes: observe her, and stand close.

Seat.
You see her eyes are open.

Lady.
Ay, But her Sense is shut.

Seat.
What is't she does now? Look how she rubs her hands:

Lady.
It is an accustom'd action with her to seem
Thus washing her hands: I have known
Her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

La. Macb.
Yet out, out, here's a spot.

Seat.
Heark, she speaks.

La. Macb.
Out, out, out I say. One, two: Nay then
'Tis time to do't: Fie my Lord, fy, a Souldier,
And affraid? What need we fear? Who knows it?
There's none dares call our Power to account:
Yet who would have thought the old Man had
So much Bloud in him.

Seat.
Do you mark that?

La. Macb.
Macduff had once a Wife; where is she now?
Will these hands ne're be clean? Fie my Lord,
You spoil all with this starting: Yet here's
a smell of bloud; not all the perfumes of Arabia
Will sweeten this little Hand. Oh, oh, oh. [Exit. SCENE II. Enter Donalbain and Flean, met by Lenox.

Len.
Is not that Donalbain and young Flean, Banquo's Son?

Don.
Who is this my worthy Friend?

Len.
I by your presence feel my hopes full blown.
Which hither to have been but in the Bud.
What happy Gale has brought you here to see
Your Fathers Death Reveng'd?

Don,
Hearing of Aid sent by the English King,
To check the Tyrants Insolence; I am come
From Ireland:

Flea.
And I from France, we are but newly met.

Don.
Where's my Brother?

Len.
He and the good Macduff are with the Army
Behind the Wood.

Don.
What do's the Tyrant now?

Len.
He strongly Fortifies in Dunsinane;
Some say he is Mad, others, who love him less,

Call it a Valiant Fury; but what e're
The matter is, there is a Civil War
Within his Bosom; and he finds his Crown
Sit loose about him: His Power grows less,
His Fear grows greater still.

Don.
Let's haste and meet my Brother,
My Interest is grafted into his,
And cannot grow without it.

Len.
So may you both out-grow unlucky Chance,
And may the Tyrant's Fall that Growth Advance. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Enter Macbeth, Seat. and Attendants.

Macb.
Bring me no more Reports: Let 'em fly all
Till Byrnam Wood remove to Dunsinane
I cannot fear. What's the Boy Malcolme? What
Are all the English? Are they not of Women
Born? And t'all such I am invincible;
Then fly false Thanes,
By your Revolt you have inflam'd my Rage,
And now have borrowed English bloud to quench it. Enter a Messenger.
Now Friend, what means thy change of Countenance?

Mess.
There are Ten Thousand, Sir.

Macb.
What, Ghosts?

Mess.
No, Armed men.

Macb.
But such as shall be Ghosts e're it be Night,
Art thou turn'd Coward too, since I made thee Captain?
Go Blush away thy Paleness, I am sure
Thy Hands are of another Colour; thou hast Hands
Of Bloud, but Looks of Milk.

Mess.
The English Force so please you—

Macb.
Take thy Face hence.
He has Infected me with Fear;
I am sure to die by none of Woman born.
And yet the English Drums beat an Alarm,
As fatal to my Life as are the Crokes
Of Ravens, when they flutter about the VVindows
Of departing men.
My hopes are great, and yet methinks I fear;
My Subjects cry out Curses on my Name,

VVhich like a North-wind seems to blast my Hopes.

Seat.
That VVind is a contagious Vapour exhal'd from Bloud. Enter Second Messenger.
VVhat news more?

2 Mess.
All's confirm'd, my Leige, that was Reported.

Macb.
And my Resolves in spite of Fate shall be as firmly.
Send out my more Horse; and Scout the Country round.
How do's my VVife?

Seat.
Not so sick, my Lord, as she is troubled
VVith disturbing Fancies, that keep her from her rest.

Macb.
And I, methinks, am sick of her Disease:
Seaton send out; Captain, the Thanes flie from thee:
VVou'd she were well, I'de quickly win the Field.
Stay Seaton Stay, I'll bear you company,
The English cannot long maintain the Fight;
They come not here to Kill, but to be Slain;
Send out our Scouts.

Seat.
Sir, I am gone. [Aside.
Not to obey your Orders, but the Call of Justice.
I'll to the English Train whose Hopes are built
Upon their Cause, and not on VVitches Prophesies. [Exit.

Macb.
Poor Thanes, you vainly hope for Victory:
You'l find Macbeth Invincible; or if
He can be o'recome, it must be then
By Birnam Oaks, and not by English-men. [Exit. SCENE IV. Enter Malcolm, Donalbain, Seymor, Macduff, Lenox, Flean, Souldiers.

Malc.
The Sun shall see us Drain the Tyrants Blood
And Dry up Scotlands Tears: How much we are
Oblig'd to England, which like a kind Neighbour
Lifts us up when we were Faln below
Our own Recovery.

Seym.
VVhat VVood is this before us?

Malc.
The VVood of Birnam.

Seym.
Let every Souldier hew him down a Bough,
And bear't before him: By that we may
Keep the Number of our Force undiscover'd
By the Enemy.

Malc.
It shall be done. VVe Learn no more than that

The Confident Tyrant keeps still in Dunsinane,
And will endure a Seige.
He is of late grown Conscious of his Guilt,
Which makes him make that City his Place of Refuge.

Macd.
He'll find even there but little Safety;
His very Subjects will against him Rise.
So Travellers flie to an Aged Barn
For Shelter from the Rain; when the next Shock
Of Wind throws down that Roof upon their Heads,
From which they hop'd for Succour.

Len.
The wretched Kernes which now, like Boughs, are ty'd
To forc'd Obedience; will, when our Swords
Have cut those Bonds, start from Obedience.

Malc.
May the Event make good our Guess:

Macd.
It must, unless our Resolutions fail
They'l kindle, Sir, their just Revenge at ours:
Which double Flame will singe the Wings of all
The Tyrants hopes; depriv'd of those Supports,
He'll quickly Fall.

Seym.
Let's all retire to our Commands; our Breath
Spent in Discourse does but defer his Death,
And but delays our Vengeance.

Macd.
Come let's go;
The swiftest haste is for Revenge too slow. [Exeunt. Enter Macbeth, and Souldiers.

Macb.
Hang out our Banners proudly o're the Wall,
The Cry is still, they Come: Our Castles Strength
Will Laugh a Siege to Scorn: Here let them lie
Till Famine eat them up: Had Seaton still
Been ours, and others who now Increase the Number
Of our Enemies, we might have met 'em
Face to Face. [Noise within.
What Noise is that?

Ser.
It seems the Cry of Women.

Macb.
I have almost forgot the Taste of Fears,
The time has been that Dangers have been my Familiars.
Wherefore was that Cry?

Ser.
Great Sir, the Queen is Dead.

Macb.
She should have Di'd hereafter,
I brought Her here, to see my Victimes, not to Die.

To Morrow, to Morrow, and to Morrow,
Creeps in a stealing pace from Day to Day,
To the last Minute of Recorded Time:
And all our Yesterdays have lighted Fools
To their Eternal Homes: Out, out that 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 Ideot, full of Sound and Fury
Signifying Nothing. [Enter a Messenger.
Thou comest to use thy Tongue: Thy Story quickly.

Mess.
Let my Eyes speak what they have seen,
For my Tongue cannot.

Macb.
Thy Eyes speak Terror, let thy Tongue expound
Their Language, or be for ever Dumb.

Mess.
As I did stand my Watch upon the Hill,
I lookt towards Birnam, and anon me thoughts
The Wood began to move.

Macb.
Lyar and Slave.

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 speakst False, I'll send thy Soul
To th' other World to meet with moving Woods,
And walking Forrests;
There to Possess what it but Dreamt of here.
If thy Speech be true, I care not if thou doest
The same for me. I now begin
To doubt the Equivocation of the Fiend,
They bid me not to fear till Birnam Wood
Should come to Dunsinane: And now a Wood
Is on its March this way; Arm, Arm.
Since thus a Wood do's in a March appear,
There is no Flying hence, nor Tarrying here:
Methinks I now grow weary of the Sun,
And wish the Worlds great Glass of Life were run. Exeunt. SCENE. VI. Enter Malcolme, Seymour, Macduff, Lenox, Flean, Seaton, Donalbain, and their Army with Boughs.

Malc.
Here we are near enough; throw down
Your Leafie Skreens
And shew like those you are. You worthy Uncle
Shall with my Brother and the Noble Lenox,
March in the Van, whilst Valiant Seymour
And my Self, make up the Gross of the Army,
And follow you with speed

Sey.
Fare well; the Monster has forsook his hold and comes
To offer Battle.

Macd.
Let him come on; his Title now
Sits Loose about him, like a Giants Robe
Upon a Dwarfish Thief. Enter Macbeth.

Macb.
'Tis too Ignoble, and too base to Flie;
Who's he that is not of a Woman Born,
For such a one I am to fear, or none. Enter Lenox.

Len.
Kind Heaven, I thank thee; have I found thee here;
Oh Scotland! Scotland! mayst thou owe thy just
Revenge to this sharp Sword, or this blest Minute.

Macb.
Retire fond Man, I wou'd not Kill thee.
Why should Faulcons prey on Flies?
It is below Macbeth to Fight with Men.

Len.
But not to Murder Women.

Macb.
Lenox, I pitty thee, thy Arm's too weak.

Len.
This Arm has hitherto found good Success
On your Ministers of Blood, who Murder'd
Macduffs Lady, and brave Banquo:
Art thou less Mortal then they were? Or more
Exempt from Punishment? Because thou most
Deserv'st it. Have at thy Life.

Macb.
Since then thou art in Love with Death, I will
Vouchsafe it thee. [They fight, Lenox falls.
Thou art of Woman Born, I'm sure. [Exit Macb.

Len.
Oh my dear Country, Pardon me that I
Do in a cause so great, so quickly Die. [Dies. Enter Macduff.

Macd.
This way the Noise is, Tyrant shew thy Face,
If thou be'st Slain and by no hand of Mine,
My Wife and Childrens Ghosts will haunt me for't.
I cannot Strike
At wretched Slaves, who sell their Lives for Pay;
No, my Revenge shall seek a Nobler Prey.
Through all the Paths of Death, I le search him out:
Let me but find him, Fortune. [Exit. Enter Malcolm, and Seymor.

Sey
This way, Great Sir, the Tyrants People Fight
With Fear as great as is his Guilt.

Malc
See who Lies here; the Noble Lenox slain,
What Storm has brought this Blood over our
Rising hopes.

Sey.
Restrain your Passion, Sir, let's to our Men,
Those who in Noble Causes fall, deserve

Our Pitty, not our Sorrow.
I'le bid some Body bear the Body further hence. [Exeunt. Enter Macbeth.

Macb.
Why should I play the Roman Fool and Fall,
On my own Sword, while I have living Foes
To Conquer; my Wounds shew better upon them. 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 clog'd
With Blood of thine already.

Macd.
I'le have no Words, thy Villanies are worse
Then ever yet were Punisht with a Curse.

Macb.
Thou mayst as well attempt to Wound the Air,
As me; my Destiny's reserv'd for some Immortal Power,
And I must fall by Miracle; I cannot Bleed.

Macd.
Have thy black Deeds then turn'd thee to a Devil.

Macb.
Thou wouldst but share the Fate of Lenox.

Macd.
Is Lenox slain? and by a Hand that would Damn all it kills,
But that their Cause perserves 'em.

Macb.
I have a Prophecy secures my Life.

Macd.
I have another which tells me I shall have his Blood,
Who first shed mine.

Macb.
None of Woman born can spill my Blood.

Macd.
Then let the Devils tell thee, Macduff
Was from his Mothers Womb untimely Ript.

Macb.
Curst be that tongue that tells me so,
And double Damn d be they who with a double sence
Make Promises to our Ears and Break at last
That Promise to our sight: I will not Fight with thee.

Macd.
Then yield thy self a Prisoner to be led about
The World, and Gaz'd on as a Monster, a Monster
More Deform'd then ever Ambition Fram'd,
Or Tyranny could shape.

Macb.
I scorn to Yield. I will in spite of Enchantment
Fight with thee, though Birnam Wood be come
To Dunsinane:
And thou art of no Woman Born, I'le try,
If by a Man it be thy Fate to Die. They Fight, Macbeth falls. They shout within

Macd.
This for my Royal Master Duncan,
This for my dearest Friend my Wife,
This for those Pledges of our Loves, my Children.
Hark I hear a Noise, sure there are more [Shout within
Reserves to Conquer.
I'le as a Trophy bear away his Sword,
To witness my Revenge. [Exit Macduff.

Macb.
Farewel vain World, and what's most vain in it, Ambition [Dies. Enter Malcolm, Seymour, Donalbain, Flean, Seaton, and Souldiers.

Malc.
I wish Macduff were safe Arriv'd, I am
In doubt for him; for Lenox I'me in grief.

Seym.
Consider Lenox, Sir, is nobly Slain:
They who in Noble Causes fall, deserve
Our Pity, not our Sorrow. Look where the Tyrant is.

Seat.
The Witches, Sir, with all the Power of Hell,
Could not preserve him from the Hand of Heaven. Enter Macduff with Macbeths Sword.

Macd.
Long Live Malcolm, King of Scotland, so you are;
And though I should not Boast, that one
Whom Guilt might easily weigh down, fell
By my Hand; yet here I present you with
The Tyrants Sword, to shew that Heaven appointed
Me to take Revenge for you, and all
That Suffered by his Power.

Malc.
Macduff, we have more Ancient Records
Then this of your successful Courage.

Macd.
Now Scotland, thou shalt see bright Day again,
That Cloud's remov'd that did Eclipse thy Sun,
And Rain down Blood upon thee. As your Arms
Did all contribute to this Victory;
So let your Voices all concur to give
One joyful Acclamation.
Long live Malcolm, King of Scotland

Malc.
We shall not make a large Expence of time
Before we Reckon with your several Loves,
And make us even with you. Thanes and Kinsman,
Henceforth be Earls, the first that ever Scotland
Saw Honour'd with that Title: And may they still Flourish
On your Families; though like the Laurels
You have Won to Day; they Spring from a Field of Blood.
Drag his body hence, and let it Hang upon
A Pinnacle in Dunsinane, to shew
To future Ages what to those is due,
Who others Right, by Lawless Power pursue.

Macd.
So may kind Fortune Crown your Raign with Peace,
As it has Crown'd your Armies with Success;
And may the Peoples Prayers still wait on you,
As all their Curses did Macbeth pursue:
His Vice shall make your Virtue shine more Bright,
As a Fair Day succeeds a Stormy Night. FINIS Actus V.

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