I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me.—Did heaven look 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. [Exeunt.

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 night-gown 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. Ay, 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.

1 The game after it is killed.

Lady M. Yet here's a spot.

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

Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say! - One; Hell is Two; Why, then 'tis time to do't: murky! Fye, my lord, fye! a soldier, and afear'd? What 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?

Doct. 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, Gent. 'Pray God, it be, sir.

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

Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at

2 Dark.

the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your 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.

And mingle with the English epicures: The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,

When I behold. Seyton, I say!

Seyton! I am

This push

colm,

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 unrough 5 youths, that even now Protest their first of manhood.

Ment.

What does the tyrant?
Cath. Great Dunsináne, 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.
Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
Those he commands, move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.

Ment.

Who then shall blame His pester'd senses to recoil and start,

When all that is within him does condemn

Itself, for being there?

Cath.

Well, march we on, To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd: Meet we the medecin 6 of the sickly weal; And with him pour we, in our country's purge, Each drop of us. Len. To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds. Make we our march towards Birnam.

Or so much as it needs,

Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff: —
Seyton, send out.-Doctor, the thanes fly from me:-
Come, sir, despatch: - If thou couldst, doctor, cast
The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge
to a sound and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again. Pull't off, I say.
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence!-Hearest thou
of them?

7 Sink.

9 An appellation of contempt.

Yc. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword

I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

[They fight, and young SIWARD is slain. Macb. 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 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 6, 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 7: 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:

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.

Macb. 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 9 with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope.

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 Co-
lours, MALCOLM, old SIWARD, ROSSE, LENOX,
ANGUS, CATHNESS, MENTETH, and Soldiers.
Mal. I would, the friends we miss were safe ar-
riv'd.

Siw. 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.
He only liv'd but till he was a man ;
Rosse. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:

The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.

Siw.
Then he is dead?
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.

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

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

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, 7 Reported with clamour. 8 The air which cannot be cut. 9 Shuffle.

Foot-soldiers.

[Flourish. Exeunt.