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That will with due decision make us know
Towards which, advance the war.
Dunsinane. Within the Castle.
Enter, with Drums and Colours, MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers.
Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward
The cry is still, They come: Our castle's strength
Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,
Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Macb. She should have died hereafter;
arbitrate:] i, e. determine.
9 fell of hair-] My hairy part, my capillitium. Fell is skin.
There would have been a time for such a word.-
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Enter a Messenger.
Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. Mess. Gracious my lord,
I shall report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to do it.
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.
Liar, 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.
If thou speak'st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
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
Till famine cling thee:] Clung, in the Northern counties, signifies any thing that is shrivelled or shrunk up.
Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and out!-
There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here.
And wish the estate o'the world were now undone.
The same. A Plain before the Castle.
Enter, with Drums and Colours, MALCOLM, old Siward, MacduFF, &c. and their Army, with Boughs.
Mal. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw down,
And show like those you are:-You, worthy uncle,
According to our order.
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. Exeunt. Alarums continued.
Another Part of the Plain.
Macb. 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. Siw. What is thy name?
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter
Than any is in hell.
My name's Macbeth.
Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce
More hateful to mine ear.
No, nor more fearful.
Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my
prove the lie thou speak'st.
[They fight, and young Siward is slain. 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, show thy
If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine,
I cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou should'st be;
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;
And little is to do.
Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better upon them.
Turn, hell-hound, turn.
Mach. Of all men else I have avoided thee: But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd With blood of thine already.
I have no words,
2 Seems bruited:] From bruit, Fr. To bruit is to report with clamour; to noise.