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Sir William Davenant [1674], Macbeth, a tragedy: With all the alterations, amendments, additions, and new songs. As it is now Acted at the Dukes Theatre (Printed for A. Clark [etc.], London) [word count] [S31600].
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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,

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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.
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Sir William Davenant [1674], Macbeth, a tragedy: With all the alterations, amendments, additions, and new songs. As it is now Acted at the Dukes Theatre (Printed for A. Clark [etc.], London) [word count] [S31600].
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