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That were most precious to me.-Did heaven look-Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afear'd? What

on,

And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls: Heaven rest them
now!

Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword: let
grief

Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine
eyes,

And braggart with my tongue!-But, gentle heaven,
Cut short all intermission; front to front,
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

Mal.
This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you

may;

The night is long, that never finds the day.

ACT V.

[Exe.

SCENE I.-Dunsinane. A room in the castle.

tlewoman.

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? Docl. 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 starting.

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,

I

Gent. 'Pray God, it be, sir.

Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: Yet 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' buried; he cannot come out of his grave. Doct. Even so?

Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a waiting Gen-he gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your
Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at
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. 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 field, I 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 open.
Gent. Av, but their sense is shut.

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 spot.

Doct. Hark, she speaks: I will set down what
coines from her, to satisfy my remembrance the
more strongly.

Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say!-One:
Two; Why, then 'tis time to do't:-Hell is murky !2

(1) All pause. (2) Dark. (3) Confounded.

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;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her :-So, good night:
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight:
I think, but dare not speak.
Gent.
Good night, good doctor.

It

[Exeunt. 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

Malco'm,

His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them: for their dear causes
Would, to the bleeding, and the grim alarm,
Excite the mortified man.*

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
Of all the gentry; there is Siward's son,
And many unrouch youths, 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 rule.
Ang.

(4) A religious; an ascetic.

Now does he feel

(5) Unbearded.

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SCENE III-Dunsinane.

Maco. Bring me no more reports. let them fy Wuld set or tese English ence -Hearest now zil;

Tll Birma wood remove to Dunsinane.

of her

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Mart. Go, prick thy face, and wer-red (hvlear,
Thou iv-iverd 307. What soldiers, paten
Death hy sou 'hase inen cheeks of nine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-jace'
Sero. The English force, 10 lease you.
Macb. Take by face hence.-Seytan!—I am
sick at heart,

When I benoid-sevton, I my '—This push
Will cheer me ever, or dissent me now.
I have liv'd long enough: my way of life
Is fail'n 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 'heir stead,
Carses, not loud, but deep, mouth-nonour, breath.
When the poor heart would fain deny, out dare not.
Seyton-

Enter Seyton.

Sew. What is your gracious pleasure”
Mach.
What news more
Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was re-
ported.

Mach. I'll hunt, till from my bones my flesh be.
hack'd.

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SCENE IF —maty verr Dunsinane: Åmod Enter... trim Al Meters, Madesim. Ola Sicard má us Son, Sacand. M. 3teh. Cathness, Angus, Lenox, Russe, nu Suldiers, narcalag.

Mat. Cousins, I hope, the days are near at handi That chambers will be sale.

Meni.

We doubt à nothing. Site. What wood is this before us Ment

The wood x Birnam. Mal. Let every soldier hew um down a bouch, And bear before .um, 'hereby mail we stauow The numbers of our nust, and make discovery Errin report us.

Soid.

It shall be done. Sue. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant Keeps stiil in Dunsinane, ami vill endure Our setting down deior 1. Mal.

Tis us main lope: For where there is advantage to be Liven, Both more and less' have ziven aim be volt. And none serve with him but constrained himes, Whose hearts are absent too. Macd. Let our ust censures Attend he true event, and put we un Industrious soldiersmp. Siw.

The time approaches, That will with due decision make us Dow What we snail say we have, and what we owe, Thoughts speculative, 'heir unsure hopes reiate.

But certain issue strokes must arburate :“

Towards which, advance the war.

[Exeunt, marchung. SCENE -Dunsinare. Within the castle. Ent ter, with runs and colours, Mathuth, Seytun, and Soldiers.

Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward walls;

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Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.

The cry is still, They come: Our castle's strength | Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
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,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home. What is that noise?
[A cry within, of women.

Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them
all breath,

Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Mach. 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 supp'd 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.

Macb. She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.-
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps 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 dusty death. 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 idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.-

Enter a Messenger.

Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
[Exeunt. Alarums continued.
SCENE VII.-The same. Another part of the
plain. Enter Macbeth.

Mach. They have tied 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 Siward.

Yo. Sho. What is thy name?
Macb.
Thou'll be afraid to hear it.
Yo. Sir. No; though thou call'st thyself a hot-

ter name

My name's Macbeth.

Than any is in hell.
Macb.
Yo. Sin. 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.

Macb.

[They fight, and Young Siward is slain. Thou wast born of woman.

Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Mess. Gracious my lord,

I shall report that which I say I saw,

But know not how to do it.

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 him.
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,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling2 thee: if thy speech be sooth,
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 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 a-weary 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 die with harness on our back.

[Exeunt.

Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. [Ex.

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 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. Alarum.
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.

That strike beside us.
Siw.

We have met with foes

Enter, sir, the castle.
[Exeunt. Alarum.

Re-enter Macbeth.

Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die

SCENE VI-The same. A plain before the cas-On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes tle. Enter, with drums and colours, Malcolm. Do better upon them. Old Siward, Macduff, &c. and their army, with boughs.

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As easy may'st thou the entrenchant air1
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.

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.

Mach. 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 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.
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 pole; 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, enough.
[Exeunt, fighting.
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.

Site. 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.

Then he is dead?

Siv. 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.

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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.

(1) The air, which cannot be cut. (2) Shuffle.

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:
So, God be with him!-Here comes newer comfort.
Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head on a pole.

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 pearl,'
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,-
Hail, king of Scotland!
All.

King of Scotland, hail! [Flourish. Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time, Before we reckon with your several loves,

And make us even with you. My thanes and kins

men,

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,
So thanks to all at once, and to each one,
We will perform in measure, time, and place:

Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.
[Flourish. Exeunt.

This play is deservedly celebrated for the propriety of its fiction, and solemnity, grandeur, and variety of its action; but it has no nice discriminations of character; the events are too great to admit the influence of particular dispositions, and the course of the action necessarily determines the conduct of the agents.

The danger of ambition is well described; and I know not whether it may not be said, in defence of some parts which now seem improbable, that in Shakspeare's time it was necessary to warn credulity against vain and illusive predictions.

The passions are directed to their true end. Lady Macbeth is merely detested; and though the courage of Macbeth preserves some esteem, yet every reader rejoices at his fall.

JOHNSON.

(5) The kingdom's wealth or ornament.

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