SCENE I. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Enter a Doctor of Physick, and a Waiting-Gentlewoman.

Doc.

I have two nights ^note watch'd with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walk'd?

Gen.

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.

Doc.

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?

Gen.

That, sir, which I will not report ^note after her.

Doc.

You may, to me; and 'tis most meet you should.

Gen.

Neither to you, nor any one; having no witness to confirm my speech.

Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep: Observe her; stand close.

Doc.

How came she by that light?

Gen.

Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually, 'tis her command.

Doc.

You see, her eyes are open.

Gen.

Ay, but their sense is shut ^note.

Doc.

What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.

Gen.

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.

L. M^b.

Yet here's a spot.

Doc.

Hark, she speaks: I will set down14Q0528 what comes from her, [taking out his Tables] to satisfy ^note my remembrance the more strongly.

L. M^b.

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?

Doc.

Do you mark that?

L. M^b.

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 ^note starting.

Doc.

Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

Gen.

She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that; heaven knows what she has known.

L. M^b.

Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. O, o, o!

Doc.

What a sigh is there? The heart is sorely charg'd.

Gen.

I would not have such a heart in my bosom, for the dignity of the whole body.

Doc.

Well, well, well,—

Gen.

Pray God, it be, sir.

Doc.

This disease is beyond my practice: Yet I have known those which have walk'd in their sleep, who have dy'd holily in their beds.

L. M^b.

Wash your hands, put on your night-gown;

look not so pale:—I tell you yet again, Banquo's bury'd; he cannot come out of's grave.

Doc.

Even so?

L. M^b.

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.

Doc.

Will she go now to bed?

Gen.

Directly.

Doc.
Foul whisp'rings 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, ^note and amaz'd my sight:
I think, but dare not speak.

Gen.
Good night, good doctor. [Exeunt severally. SCENE II. Country near Dunsinane. Enter, with Drum and Colours, Menteth, Cathness, Angus, Lenox, and Soldiers, marching.

Men.
The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Seyward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them: for their dear causes14Q0529
Would, to ^note the bleeding, and the grim alarm,
Excite the mortify'd man.

Ang.
Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.

Cat.
Who knows, if Donalbain be with his brother?

Len.
For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file

Of all the gentry; there is Seyward's son,
And many unrough youths, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.

Men.
What does the tyrant?

Cat.
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.

Ang.
Now does he feel
His secret murthers 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.

Men.
Who then shall blame
His pester'd senses to recoil, and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself, for being there.

Cat.
Well, march we on,
To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd:
Meet we the med'cin of the sickly weal;
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 weeds.
Make we our march towards Birnam ^note. [Exeunt marching. SCENE III. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Enter Macbeth; Doctor, and Others, attending.

Mac^b.
Bring me no more reports; let them fly all:

'Till Birnam ^note wood remove to Dunsinane,
I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? Spirits, that know14Q0530
All mortal consequences, have pronounc'd me,
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 an Attendant, hastily.
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon!
Where got'st thou that goose look?

Att.
There is ten thousand.

Mac^b.
Geese, villain?

Att.
Soldiers, sir.

Mac^b.
Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lilly-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?
Death of thy soul! those linnen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?

Att.
The English force, so please you.

Mac^b.
Take thy face hence.—Seyton!—I am ^note sick at heart,
When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push
Will cheer me ever, or disease ^note me now.
I have liv'd long enough: my way of ^note life
Is faln 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.

Sey.
What is your gracious pleasure?

Mac^b.
What news more?

Sey.
All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.

Mac^b.
I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.—
Give me my armour.

Sey.
'Tis not needed yet.

Mac^b.
I'll put it on.
Send out more horses, skirr the country round;
Hang those that talk of fear. ^note—Give me mine armour.—
How does your patient, doctor?

Doc.
Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubl'd with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.

Mac^b.
Cure her ^note of that:
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Rase ^note out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuft bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?

Doc.
Therein the patient
Must minister to himself. ^note

Mac^b.
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, dispatch:—If thou could'st, 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, ^note senna, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence? Hearest thou of them?

Doc.
Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
Makes us hear something.

Mac^b.
Bring it after me.—
I will not be afraid of death and bane,
'Till Birnam ^note forest come to Dunsinane.

&clquo;Doc.
&clquo;Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,&crquo;
&clquo;Profit again should hardly draw me here.&crquo; [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Plains leading to Dunsinane; a Wood adjacent. Enter, with Drum and Colours, Malcolm; old Seyward, and his Son; Macduff, Menteth, and the other Thanes, and Soldiers, marching.

Mal.
Cousins, I hope, the days are near at hand,
That chambers will be safe.

Men.
We doubt it nothing.

o. S.
What wood is this before us?

Men.
The wood of Birnam ^note.

Mal.
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.

Sol.
It shall be done.

o. S.
We learn no other, but the confident tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down before it.

Mal.
'Tis his main hope:
For where there is advantage to be gone, ^note
Both more and less have given him the revolt;
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.

Mac^d.
Let our just censures ^note
Attend the true event, and put we on

Industrious soldiership.

o. S.
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. A Plat-form within the Castle. Enter, with Drum and Colours, Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers.

Mac^b.
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 lye,
'Till famine, and the ague, eat them up:
Were they not forc'd ^note with those that should be ours,
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.

Mac^b.
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 supt full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.—Wherefore was that cry?

Sey.
The queen, my lord, is dead.

Mac^b.
She should have dy'd hereafter;14Q0531
There would have been a time for such a word.—
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps ^note 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 study death. ^note. 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 ideot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.— Enter a Messenger.
Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.

Mes.
Gracious ^note my lord,
I should report that which I'd say I saw,
But know not how to do't.

Mac^b.
Well, say it, sir.

Mes.
As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.

Mac^b.
Liar, and slave! [striking him.

Mes.
Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:
Within this three mile may you see it coming;
I say, a moving grove.

Mac^b.
If thou speak'st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou ^note hang alive,
'Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
I care not if thou dost for me as much.—
I pull in ^note 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 dye with harness on our back. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. The same. Plain before the Castle. Enter, with Drum and Colours, Malcolm, old Seyward, Macduff, &c. and Forces, with Boughs.

Mal.
Now, near enough; your leavy screens throw down,
And shew 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 what else remains to do,
According to our order.

o. S.
Fare you well.—
Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.

Mac^d.
Make all our trumpets speak, give them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. [Exeunt. SCENE VII. The same. Another Part of the Plain. Alarums, as of a Battle join'd. Skirmishings. Enter Macbeth.

Mac^b.
They have ty'd 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 Seyward.

y. S.
What is thy name?

Mac^b.
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

y. S.
No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
Than any is in hell.

Mac^b.
My name's Macbeth.

y. S.
The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.

Mac^b.
No, nor more fearful.

y. S.
Thou ly'st, abhorred ^note tyrant; with my sword
I'll prove the lye thou speak'st. [fight; and young Seyward is slain.

Mac^b.
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.

Mac^d.
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: Let me find him, fortune! and
More I beg not. [Exit. Alarums. Enter Malcolm, and old Seyward.

o. S.
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.

o. S.
Enter, sir, the castle. [Exeunt. Alarums. Re-enter Macbeth.

Mac^b.
Why should I play the Roman fool, and dye

On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes
Do better upon them: Re-enter Macduff.

Mac^d.
Turn, hell-hound, turn.

Mac^b.
Of all men else I have avoided thee:
But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd
With blood of thine already.

Mac^d.
I have no words,
My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out! [fight.

Mac^b.
Thou losest labour:
As easy may'st 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.

Mac^d.
Despair thy charm;
And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd,
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ript.

Mac^b.
Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
And be these jugling fiends no more believ'd,
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.

Mac^d.
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.

Mac^b.
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 ^note 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 ^note first cries, Hold, enough. [Exeunt fighting Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter, with Drum and Colours, Malcolm, and old Seyward; with Rosse, the other Thanes, Soldiers, &c.

Mal.
I would the friends, we miss, were safe arriv'd.

o. S.
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.

Ros.
Your son, my lord, has pay'd 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.

o. S.
Then he is dead?

Ros.
Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
It hath no end.

o. S.
Had he his hurts before?

Ros.
Ay, on the front.

o. S.
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.

Mal.
He's worth more sorrow,

And that I'll spend for him.

o. S.
He's worth no more;
They say, he parted well, and pay'd his score:
And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort. Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's Head.

Mac^d.
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, ^note
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,—
Hail, king of Scotland!

all.
Hail, king of Scotland! [Flourish.

Mal.
We shall not spend a large expence 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 nam'd. What's more to do,
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. [Exeunt.

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