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SCENE VI. The Same. Before the Castle.
Drum and Colours. Enter MALCOLM, Old SIWARD,
MAL. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw down,
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
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
SCENE VII. The Same. Another Part of the Field.
MACB. They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
Am I to fear, or none.
Enter Young SIWARD.
Yo. Siw. What is thy name?
Thou 'It be afraid to hear it.
My name's Macbeth.
Yo. Siw. The Devil himself could not pronounce a title
No, nor more fearful.
[They fight, and Young SIWARD is slain.
But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Thou wast born of woman.
Alarums. Enter MACDUFF.
MACD. That way the noise is. Tyrant, shew thy face!
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou should'st be;
Enter, Sir, the castle.
SCENE VIII. The Same. Another Part of the Field.
MACB. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
Turn, Hell-hound, turn!
'That purposely aim wide of us.
I have no words,
My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier Villain
Thou losest labour:
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.
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,
And be these juggling Fiends no more believ'd,
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 show and gaze o' the time:
Here may you see the Tyrant.
I will not yield,
MAL. I would the friends we miss were safe arriv'd.
2 perish in the fight.
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
Retreat. Flourish. Enter with Drum and Colours,
ACT V MAL. Macduff is missing, and your
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
Then he is dead?
Ross. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of
Why, then God's soldier be he!
He's worth more sorrow,
He's worth no more:
Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head.
MACD. Hail, King! for so thou art: behold, where stands
Henceforth be Earls, the first that ever Scotland
Hail, King of Scotland!
MAL. We shall not spend a large expense of time
That fled the snares of watchful Tyranny;
Of this dead butcher, and his Fiend-like Queen,