And with him pour we, in our Country's purge,
Each drop of us.

Len. Or fo much as it needs,

To dew the Sovereign Flower, and drown the Weeds.
Make we our march towards Birnam.

SCENE III. The Caftle.

Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants.

[Exeunt.

Macb. Bring me no more Reports, let them fly all: 'Till Birnam Wood remove to Dunfinane,

I cannot taint with fear. What's the Boy, Malcolme?
Was he not born of Woman? The Spirits that know
All mortal Confequences, have pronounc'd me thus:
Fear not, Macbeth, no Man that's born of Woman
Shall e'er have power upon thee. Then fly falfe Thanes,
And mingle with the English Epicures,

The mind I fway by, and the heart I bear,

Shall never fag with doubt, nor fhake with fear.

Enter a Servant.

The Devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd Lown:
Where got'ft thou that Goofe-Look?

Ser. There are ten thoufand

Mach. Geefe, Villain?

Ser. Soldiers, Sir.

Mach. Go, prick thy Face, and over-red thy fear, Thou Lilly-liver'd Boy. What Soldiers, Patch? Death of thy Soul, thofe Linnen Cheeks of thine Are Counsellours to fear. What Soldiers, Whay-face? Ser. The English Force, fo please you.

Macb. Take thy Face hence----Seyton! ----I'm fick at heart, When I behold-Seyton, I fay! this push Will cheer me ever, or disease me now. I have liv'd long enough: My way of Life Is fall'n into the Sear, the yellow Leaf, And that which fhould accompany old Age, As Honour, Love, Obedience, Troops of Friends, I must not look to have: But in their ftead, Curfes, not loud but deep, Mouth-honour breath, Which the poor Heart would fain deny, and dare not.

Enter

Enter Seyton.

Sey. What's your Gracious pleasure ?

Mach. What News more?

Sey. All is confirm'd, my Lord, which was reported. Macb. I'll fight, 'till from my Bones my Flesh is hacktà Give me my Armour.

Sey. 'Tis not needed yet.

Macb. I'll put it on:

Send out more Horfes, skir the Country round,
Hang those that stand in fear. Give me mine Armour.
Now do's your Patient, Doctor?

Doct. Not fo fick, my Lord,

As she is troubled with thick-coming Fancies,
That keep her from her reft.

Macb. Cure her from that:

Canft thou not minifter to a Mind difeas'd,
Pluck from the Memory a rooted Sorrow,
Raise out the written troubles of the Brain,
And with fome fweet oblivious Antidote,
Cleanse the stuft Bofome of that perillous ftuff,
Which weighs upon the Heart?

Doct. Therein the Patient

Muft minifter unto himself.

Mach. Throw Phyfick to the Dogs, I'll none of it.
Come, put my Armour on, give me my Staff.
Seyton, Send out-Doctor, the Thanes fly from me.
Come, Sir, difpatch If thou could'ft, Doctor, caft
The water of my Land, find her Disease,

And purge it to a found and priftine Health,
I would applaud thee to the very Echo,

That should applaud again. Pull't off, I fay

What Rubarb, Senna, or what Purgative Drug,

Would scour these English hence: Hear'ft thou of them? Doct. Ay, my good Lord; Your Royal preparation Makes us hear fomething.

Mach. Bring it after me;

I will not be afraid of Death and Bane, 'Till Birnam Foreft come to Dunsinane.

Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away, and clear,

Profit again should hardly draw me here.

[Exeunt. SCENE

SCENE

IV.

A Wood.

Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduff, Seyward's Son, Menteth, Cathnefs, Angus, and Soldiers marching.

Mal. Coufin, I hope the days are near at hand,

That Chambers will be fafe.

Ment. We doubt it nothing.

Seyw. 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 fhall we fhadow
The numbers of our Hoft, and make discov'ry
Err in report of us.

Sold. It fhall be done.

Seyw. We learn no other, but the confident Tyrant,
Keeps ftill in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down before't.

Mal. 'Tis his main hope:

For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and lefs have given him the Revolt,
And none ferve with him, but conftrained things,
Whose Hearts are abfent too.

Macd. Set our beft Cenfures
Before the true event, and put we on
Industrious Soldiership.

Seyw. The time approaches,

That will with due decifion make us know
What we shall fay we have, and what we owe:
Thoughts fpeculative, their unfure hopes relate,
But certain iffue, ftrokes muft arbitrate,
Towards which, advance the War.

[Exeunt marching

SCENE V.
V. The Caftle.

Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers with Drums and Colours.

Macb. Hang out our Banners on the outward Walls,
The Cry is ftill, they come: Our Castle's ftrength
Will laugh a Siege to fcorn. Here let them lye,
Till Famine and the Ague eat them up :

Were

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 noife?

[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 Senfes would have cool'd
To hear a Night-fhriek, and my Fell of Hair
Would at a difmal Treatife rouze, and stir
As Life were in't. I have fupt full with horrors,
Direness familiar to my flaughterous Thoughts
Cannot once ftart me. Wherefore was that cry?
Sey. The Queen (my Lord) is dead.
Macb. She fhould have dy'd hereafter;
There would have been a time for fuch a word.
To morrow, and to morrow, and to morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the laft Syllable of Recorded time:
And all our yesterdays have lighted Fools
The way to ftudy death. Out, out, brief Candle,
Life's but a walking Shadow, a poor Player,
That ftruts and frets his hour upon the Stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a Tale
Told by an Ideot, full of found and fury
Signifying nothing.

Enter a Messenger.

Thou com'ft to use thy Tongue: thy ftory quickly.
Mef. My Gracious Lord,

I fhould report that which I fay I faw,

But know not how to do't.

Mach. Well, fay, Sir.

I look'd toward Birnam, and anon methought

Mef. As I did ftand

Watch upon my

the Hill,

[Striking him.

The Wood began to move.

Macb. Liar, and Slave.

Mef. Let me endure your wrath, ift be not fo

Within this three mile you may fee it coming.

I fav, a moving Grove.

Macb. If thou fpeak'st false,

Upon the next Tree fhalt thou hang alive

'Till Famine cling thee: If thy Speech be footh,

I care not if thou do'ft for me as much.

I pull in Refolution, 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 Dunfinane. Arm, arm, and out;
If this which he avouches do's appear,
There is no flying hence, nor tarrying here;
I 'gin to be a weary of the Sun,

And wish th' eftate 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.

SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's Caftle.

Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduff, and their Army,
with Boughs.

Mal. Now near enough: your Leavy Screens throw down,
And fhew like thofe you are: You (worthy Uncle)
Shall with my Coufin, your right Noble Son,

Lead our firft Battel. Worthy Macduff, and we
Shall take upon's what else remains to do
According to our order.

Seyw. 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 fpeak, give them all breath,

Those clamorous Harbingers of Blood and Death.

Enter Macbeth.

[Exeunt.

Alarums continued.

Macb. They have ty'd me to a ftake, I cannot fly, But Bear-like I must fight the courfe. What's he That was not born of Woman? Such a one

Am I to fear, or none.

Enter Young Seyward.

To. Seyw. What is thy Name?

Mach. Thoul't be afraid to hear it.

Yo. Seyw. No: though thou call'ft thy felf a hotter Name

Than any is in Hell.

Mach. My Name's Macbeth.

VOL, V.

U

To.