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 with, the state o'th' world were now undone.
Ring the alarum bell; blow, wind! come, wrack !
At least, we'll die with harness on our back. [Exeunt.

Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, and their Army with

boughs.
Mal. TOW, near enough : your leafy screens throw

down,
And Thew like those you are. You (worthy uncle)
Shall with my cousin, your right noble fon,
Lead our first battle. Brave Macduff and we
Shall take upon's what else remains to do,
According to our order.

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

Macd. Make all our trumpets speak,givethemallbreath,
Those clam'rous harbingers of blood and death. [Exe.

[Alarms continued. Enter Macbeth. Macb. They've 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.

کر

10. Siw. What is thy name?
Macb. Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

Yo. Siw. No: though thou call'st thyself a hotter name,
Than any

is in hell. Macb. My name's Macbeth.

Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce a title More hateful to mine ear.

Mach.

.

Macb. No, nor more fearful.
Yo. Siw. Thou lieft, abhorred

tyrant; with

my

sword I'll prove the lie thou speak'it.

(Figbt, and young Siward's sain.
Macb. Thou wast born of woman ;
But fwords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandifl'd by man that's of a woman born. [Exi!

Alarms. Enter Macduff.
Macd. That

way

the noise is : Tyrant, few thy face ; If thou be'ft flain, and with no stroke of mine, My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me ftill. I cannot strike at wretched Kernes, whose arms Are hir'd to bear their staves : Or thou, Macbeth, Or else my sword with an unbatter'd edge I sheath again undeeded. Therè thou shouldst be By this great clatter, one of greatest note Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune! And more I beg not.

[Exit. Alarm. Enter Malcolm and Siward. Siw. This way, my Lord, the castle's gently rendev/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've met with foes,, That strike beside us. Siw. Enter, Sir, the castle. [Exeunt. Alarm.

Enter Macbeth.
Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
On mine own sword? whilst I see lives, the gathes
Do better upon them.

To him, Enter Macduff.
Macd. Turn, hell-hound, turn.
Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee :
But get thee back, my foul is too much charg'd
With blood of thine already,
VOL. VI.

р

Macb.

of man :

Macd. I've no words ;
My voice is in my sword! thou bloodier villain,
Than terms can give thee out. [Fight. Alarm.

Macb. 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.

Macd. Despair thy charm!
And let the angel, whom thou still haft serv'd,
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.

Macb. Accursed be that tongue, that tells me so, For it hath cow'd

my
better

part
And be these juggling fiends no more believ’d,
That palter with us in a double fenfe;
*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 fhew and gaze o’th' time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and under-writ,

see the tyrant."
- Macb. I will not yield,
TO kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet:
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnàm-wood be come to Dunsinane,

And thou, oppos’d, be of no woman born, „Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike Thield. Lay on, Macduff"; And damn'd be he, that first cries, “ hold, enough."

[Exeunt fighting. Alarms.

66 Here may you

Retreat and flourish. Enter with Drum and Colours,

Malcolm, Siward, Roffe, Thanes, and Soldiers. Mal. I would, the friends, we miss, were safe arriv'd.

Siw. Some must go off: and yet, by these I fee, So great a day as this is cheaply bought,

Mal.

Mal. Macduf is miffing, and your noble fon.

Rolle. Your fon, 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 dy'd.

Siw. Then is he dead ?

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

Sizv. Had he his hurts before ?
Rofje. Ay, on the front.

Siw. 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.

Siw. He's worth no more ; They say, he parted well, and paid his score. So, God be with him!--Here comes newer comfort.

Enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head, i

Macd. Hail, King! for sothou art. Behold, where stands Th' usurper's cursed head ; the time is free : I see thee compast with thy kingdom's Peers, That speak my falutation in their minds : Whofe voices I desire aloud with mine; Hail, King of Scotland ! All. Hail, King of Scotland!

[Flourijh. Mal. We shall not spend a large expence of time, Before we reckon with your sev'ral loves, And make us even with you. 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 ;

P 2

Producing

Producing forth the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like Queen ;
(Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands
Took of 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.

[Flouris. Exeunt omnes.