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Till famine cling thee; if thy speech be sooth,

I care not if thou dost for me as much.

I pull in resolution 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 Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!

If this which he avouches does appear,

There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.

I 'gin to be aweary 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. Dunsinane. Before the castle.

Enter Malcolm, old Siward, Macduff, and their Army, with boughs.

Drum and colors.

MALCOLM.

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 's what else remains to do,

According to our order.

SIWARD.

Fare you well.

Do we but find the tyrant's power tonight,

Let us be beaten if we cannot fight.

MACDUFF.

Make all our trumpets speak, give them all breath,

Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.

Exeunt.

SCENE VII. Dunsinane. Before the castle. Alarums.

Enter Macbeth.

MACBETH. 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.

YOUNG SIWARD. What is thy name?

MACBETH.

Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

YOUNG SIWARD.

No, though thou call'st thyself a hotter name

Than any is in hell.

MACBETH.

My name's Macbeth.

YOUNG SIWARD.

The devil himself could not pronounce a title

More hateful to mine ear.

MACBETH.

No, nor more fearful.

YOUNG SIWARD O Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword

I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

They fight, and young Seward is slain.

MACBETH.

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.

MACDUFF.

That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!

If thou best slain and with no stroke of mine,

My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.

I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms

Are hired 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. Alarums.

Enter Malcolm and old Siward.

SIWARD. 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,

The day almost itself professes yours,

And little is to do.

MALCOLM.

We have met with foes

That strike beside us.

SIWARD.

Enter, sir, the castle.

Exeunt. Alarum.

SCENE VIII. Another part of the field.

Enter Macbeth.

MACBETH. Why should I play the Roman fool and die

On mine own sword? Whiles I see lives, the gashes

Do better upon them.

Enter Macduff.

MACDUFF. Turn, hell hound, turn!

MACBETH.

Of all men else I have avoided thee.

But get thee back, my soul is too much charged

With blood of thine already.

MACDUFF.

I have no words.

My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain

Than terms can give thee out! They fight.

MACBETH.

Thou losest labor.

As easy mayst 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.

MACDUFF.

Despair thy charm,

And let the angel whom thou still hast served

Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb

Untimely ripp'd.

MACBETH.

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 believed

That patter with us in a double sense,

That keep the word of promise to our ear

And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee.