Macb.

Bring it after me.

I will not be afraid of death and bane,

Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,

Profit again should hardly draw me here.

[Exit.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.-Country near Dunsinane. A Wood in view.

Enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, old SIWARD and his Son, MACDUFF, MENTETH, CATHNESS, ANGUS, LENOX, Rosse, and Soldiers, marching.

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

Ment.

We doubt it nothing.

Siw. What wood is this before us?
Ment.

The wood of Birnam.

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.

Sold.

It shall be done.

Siw. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure

Our setting down before 't.

Mal.

"T is his main hope: For where there is advantage to be given,

Both more and less a have given him the revolt;
And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.

Macd.

Attend the true event, and put we on

Industrious soldiership.

Siw.

Let our just censures

The time approaches,

a More and less.-Shakspere uses these words, as Chaucer and Spenser use them, for greater and less.

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.
Within the Castle.

SCENE V.-Dunsinane.

Enter, with drums and colours, MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers.

Macb. 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 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.

Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Macb. 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 a death. Out, out, brief candle!

a

Dusty.-Douce has the following valuable illustration of the passage: "Perhaps no quotation can be better calculated to show the propriety of this epithet than the following grand

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.

Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
Mess. Gracious my lord,

I should 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; say, a moving grove.

I

Macb.

If thou speak'st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,

Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth:
I care not if thou dost for me as much.-

I pull in resolution;a 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

lines in

The Vision of Pierce Plowman,' a work which Shakspere might have seen :

'Death came drivynge after, and all to dust pashed
Kynges and kaysers, knightes and popes.'

a Monck Mason gives an illustration from Fletcher, which explains the use of pull in :

"All my spirits

As if they had heard my passing bell go for me,
Pull in their powers, and give me up to destiny."

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.

SCENE VI.-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,
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.

Siw.

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; give them all breath,

Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.

[Exeunt. Alarums continued.

SCENE VII.-The same.

Another part of the

Plain.

Enter MACBETH.

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?

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.

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.—

But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandish'd by man that 's of a woman born.

Alarums. Enter MACDUff.

[Exit.

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 sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst 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;