Macbeth

Select or Print the text

Original text
Act V, Scene I
Enter a Doctor of Physicke, and a Wayting Gentlewoman

Doct.
I haue too Nights watch'd with you, but can
perceiue no truth in your report. When was it shee last
walk'd?

Gent.
Since his Maiesty went into the Field, I
haue seene her rise from her bed, throw her Night-Gown
vp-pon her, vnlocke her Closset, take foorth paper, folde it,
write vpon't, read it, afterwards Seale it, and againe re-turne
to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleepe.

Doct.
A great perturbation in Nature, to receyue at once
the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In
this slumbry agitation, besides her walking, and other
actuall performances, what (at any time) haue 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, hauing no
witnesse to confirme my speech.
Enter Lady, with a Taper.
Lo you, heere she comes: This is her very guise, and
vp-on my life fast asleepe: obserue her, stand close.

Doct.
How came she by that light?

Gent.
Why it stood by her: she ha's light by
her con-tinually, 'tis her command.

Doct.
You see her eyes are open.

Gent.
I, but their sense are shut.

Doct.
What is it she do's now? Looke how she rubbes her
hands.

Gent.
It is an accustom'd action with her, to
seeme thus washing her hands: I haue knowne her continue
in this a quarter of an houre.

Lad.
Yet heere's a spot.

Doct.
Heark, she speaks, I will set downe what comes
from her, to satisfie my remembrance the more strongly.

La.
Out damned spot: out I say. One: Two: Why
then 'tis time to doo't: Hell is murky. Fye, my Lord,
fie, a Souldier, and affear'd? what need we feare? who
knowes it, when none can call our powre to accompt:
yet who would haue thought the olde man to haue had so
much blood in him.

Doct.
Do you marke that?

Lad.
The Thane of Fife, had a wife: where is she now?
What will these hands ne're be cleane? No more o'that
my Lord, no more o'that: you marre all with this star-ting.

Doct.
Go too, go too: You haue knowne what you should
not.

Gent.
She ha's spoke what shee should not, I am
sure of that: Heauen knowes what she ha's knowne.

La.
Heere's the smell of the blood still: all the per-fumes
of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh, oh.

Doct.
What a sigh is there? The hart is sorely charg'd.

Gent.
I would not haue such a heart in my
bosome, for the dignity of the whole body.

Doct.
Well, well, well.

Gent.
Pray God it be sir.

Doct.
This disease is beyond my practise: yet I haue
knowne those which haue walkt in their sleep, who haue
dyed holily in their beds.

Lad.
Wash your hands, put on your Night-Gowne, looke not
so pale: I tell you yet againe Banquo's buried; he cannot
come out on's graue.

Doct.
Euen so?

Lady.
To bed, to bed: there's knocking at the gate:
Come, come, come, come, giue me your hand: What's
done, cannot be vndone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
Exit Lady.

Doct.
Will she go now to bed?

Gent.
Directly.

Doct.
Foule whisp'rings are abroad: vnnaturall deeds
Do breed vnnaturall troubles: infected mindes
To their deafe pillowes will discharge their Secrets:
More needs she the Diuine, then the Physitian:
God, God forgiue vs all. Looke after her,
Remoue from her the meanes of all annoyance,
And still keepe eyes vpon her: So goodnight,
My minde she ha's mated, and amaz'd my sight.
I thinke, but dare not speake.

Gent
Good night good Doctor.
Exeunt.
Original text
Act V, Scene II
Drum and Colours. Enter Menteth, Cathnes, Angus,
Lenox, Soldiers

Ment.
The English powre is neere, led on by Malcolm,
His Vnkle Seyward, and the good Macduff.
Reuenges burne in them: for their deere causes
Would to the bleeding, and the grim Alarme
Excite the mortified man.

Ang.
Neere Byrnan wood
Shall we well meet them, that way are they comming.

Cath.
Who knowes if Donalbane be with his brother?

Len.
For certaine Sir, he is not: I haue a File
Of all the Gentry; there is Seywards Sonne,
And many vnruffe youths, that euen now
Protest their first of Manhood.

Ment.
What do's the Tyrant.

Cath.
Great Dunsinane he strongly Fortifies:
Some say hee's mad: Others, that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant Fury, but for certaine
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of Rule.

Ang.
Now do's he feele
His secret Murthers sticking on his hands,
Now minutely Reuolts vpbraid his Faith-breach:
Those he commands, moue onely in command,
Nothing in loue: Now do's he feele his Title
Hang loose about him, like a Giants Robe
Vpon a dwarfish Theefe.

Ment.
Who then shall blame
His pester'd Senses to recoyle, and start,
When all that is within him, do's condemne
It selfe, for being there.

Cath.
Well, march we on,
To giue Obedience, where 'tis truly ow'd:
Meet we the Med'cine of the sickly Weale,
And with him poure we in our Countries purge,
Each drop of vs.

Lenox.
Or so much as it needes,
To dew the Soueraigne Flower, and drowne the Weeds:
Make we our March towards Birnan.
Exeunt marching.
Original text
Act V, Scene III
Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants.

Macb.
Bring me no more Reports, let them flye all:
Till Byrnane wood remoue to Dunsinane,
I cannot taint with Feare. What's the Boy Malcolme?
Was he not borne of woman? The Spirits that know
All mortall Consequences, haue pronounc'd me thus:
Feare not Macbeth, no man that's borne of woman
Shall ere haue power vpon thee. Then fly false Thanes,
And mingle with the English Epicures,
The minde I sway by, and the heart I beare,
Shall neuer sagge with doubt, nor shake with feare.
Enter Seruant.
The diuell damne thee blacke, thou cream-fac'd Loone:
Where got'st thou that Goose-looke.

Ser.
There is ten thousand.

Macb.
Geese Villaine?

Ser.
Souldiers Sir.

Macb.
Go pricke thy face, and ouer-red thy feare
Thou Lilly-liuer'd Boy. What Soldiers, Patch?
Death of thy Soule, those Linnen cheekes of thine
Are Counsailers to feare. What Soldiers Whay-face? :

Ser.
The English Force, so please you.

Macb.
Take thy face hence.
Seyton, I am sick at hart,
When I behold: Seyton, I say, this push
Will cheere me euer, or dis-eate me now.
I haue liu'd long enough: my way of life
Is falne into the Seare, the yellow Leafe,
And that which should accompany Old-Age,
As Honor, Loue, Obedience, Troopes of Friends,
I must not looke to haue: but in their steed,
Curses, not lowd but deepe, Mouth-honor, breath
Which the poore heart would faine deny, and dare not.
Seyton?
Enter Seyton.

Sey.
What's your gracious pleasure?

Macb.
What Newes more?

Sey.
All is confirm'd my Lord, which was reported.

Macb.
Ile fight, till from my bones, my flesh be hackt.
Giue me my Armor.

Seyt.
'Tis not needed yet.

Macb.
Ile put it on:
Send out moe Horses, skirre the Country round,
Hang those that talke of Feare. Giue me mine Armor:
How do's your Patient, Doctor?

Doct.
Not so sicke my Lord,
As she is troubled with thicke-comming Fancies
That keepe her from her rest.

Macb.
Cure of that:
Can'st thou not Minister to a minde diseas'd,
Plucke from the Memory a rooted Sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the Braine,
And with some sweet Obliuious Antidote
Cleanse the stufft bosome, of that perillous stuffe
Which weighes vpon the heart?

Doct.
Therein the Patient
Must minister to himselfe.

Macb.
Throw Physicke to the Dogs, Ile none of it.
Come, put mine Armour on: giue me my Staffe:
Seyton, send out: Doctor, the Thanes flye from me:
Come sir, dispatch. If thou could'st Doctor, cast
The Water of my Land, finde her Disease,
And purge it to a sound and pristine Health,
I would applaud thee to the very Eccho,
That should applaud againe. Pull't off I say,
What Rubarb, Cyme, or what Purgatiue drugge
Would scowre these English hence: hear'st yu of them?

Doct.
I my good Lord: your Royall Preparation
Makes vs heare something.

Macb.
Bring it after me:
I will not be affraid of Death and Bane,
Till Birnane Forrest come to Dunsinane.

Doct.
Were I from Dunsinane away, and cleere,
Profit againe should hardly draw me heere.
Exeunt
Original text
Act V, Scene IV
Drum and Colours. Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduffe,
Seywards Sonne, Menteth, Cathnes, Angus, and
Soldiers Marching.

Malc.
Cosins, I hope the dayes are neere at hand
That Chambers will be safe.

Ment.
We doubt it nothing.

Seyw.
What wood is this before vs?

Ment.
The wood of Birnane.

Malc.
Let euery Souldier hew him downe a Bough,
And bear't before him, thereby shall we shadow
The numbers of our Hoast, and make discouery
Erre in report of vs.

Sold.
It shall be done.

Syw.
We learne no other, but the confident Tyrant
Keepes still in Dunsinane, and will indure
Our setting downe befor't.

Malc.
'Tis his maine hope:
For where there is aduantage to be giuen,
Both more and lesse haue giuen him the Reuolt,
And none serue with him, but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too.

Macd.
Let our iust Censures
Attend the true euent, and put we on
Industrious Souldiership.

Sey.
The time approaches,
That will with due decision make vs know
What we shall say we haue, and what we owe:
Thoughts speculatiue, their vnsure hopes relate,
But certaine issue, stroakes must arbitrate,
Towards which, aduance the warre.
Exeunt marching
Original text
Act V, Scene V
Enter Macbeth, Seyton, & Souldiers, with
Drum and Colours

Macb.
Hang out our Banners on the outward walls,
The Cry is still, they come: our Castles strength
Will laugh a Siedge to scorne: Heere let them lye,
Till Famine and the Ague eate them vp:
Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,
We might haue met them darefull, beard to beard,
And beate them backward home.
A Cry within of Women.
What is that noyse?

Sey.
It is the cry of women, my good Lord.

Macb.
I haue almost forgot the taste of Feares:
The time ha's beene, my sences would haue cool'd
To heare a Night-shrieke, and my Fell of haire
Would at a dismall Treatise rowze, and stirre
As life were in't. I haue supt full with horrors,
Direnesse familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
Cannot once start me.
Wherefore was that cry?

Sey.
The Queene (my Lord) is dead.

Macb.
She should haue dy'de heereafter;
There would haue beene a time for such a word:
To morrow, and to morrow, and to morrow,
Creepes in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last Syllable of Recorded time:
And all our yesterdayes, haue lighted Fooles
The way to dusty death. Out, out, breefe Candle,
Life's but a walking Shadow, a poore Player,
That struts and frets his houre vpon the Stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a Tale
Told by an Ideot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.
Enter a Messenger.
Thou com'st to vse thy Tongue: thy Story quickly.

Mes.
Gracious my Lord,
I should report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to doo't.

Macb.
Well, say sir.

Mes.
As I did stand my watch vpon the Hill
I look'd toward Byrnane, and anon me thought
The Wood began to moue.

Macb.
Lyar, and Slaue.

Mes.
Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:
Within this three Mile may you see it comming.
I say, a mouing Groue.

Macb.
If thou speak'st false,
Vpon the next Tree shall thou hang aliue
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 th' Equiuocation of the Fiend,
That lies like truth. Feare not, till Byrnane Wood
Do come to Dunsinane, and now a Wood
Comes toward Dunsinane. Arme, Arme, and out,
If this which he auouches, do's appeare,
There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here.
I 'ginne to be a-weary of the Sun,
And wish th' estate o'th' world were now vndon.
Ring the Alarum Bell, blow Winde, come wracke,
At least wee'l dye with Harnesse on our backe.
Exeunt
Original text
Act V, Scene VI
Drumme and Colours. Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduffe,
and their Army, with Boughes

Mal.
Now neere enough: / Your leauy Skreenes throw downe,
And shew like those you are: You (worthy Vnkle)
Shall with my Cosin your right Noble Sonne
Leade our first Battell. Worthy Macduffe, and wee
Shall take vpon's what else remaines to do,
According to our order.

Sey.
Fare you well:
Do we but finde the Tyrants power to night,
Let vs be beaten, if we cannot fight.

Macd.
Make all our Trumpets speak, giue thẽ all breath
Those clamorous Harbingers of Blood, & Death.
Exeunt
Alarums continued.
Enter Macbeth.

Macb.
They haue tied me to a stake, I cannot flye,
But Beare-like I must fight the course. What's he
That was not borne of Woman? Such a one
Am I to feare, or none.
Enter young Seyward.

Y.Sey.
What is thy name?

Macb.
Thou'lt be affraid to heare it.

Y.Sey.
No: though thou call'st thy selfe a hoter name
Then any is in hell.

Macb.
My name's Macbeth.

Y.Sey.
The diuell himselfe could not pronounce a Title
More hatefull to mine eare.

Macb.
No: nor more fearefull.

Y.Sey.
Thou lyest abhorred Tyrant, with my Sword
Ile proue the lye thou speak'st.
Fight, and young Seyward slaine.

Macb.
Thou was't borne of woman;
But Swords I smile at, Weapons laugh to scorne,
Brandish'd by man that's of a Woman borne.
Exit.
Alarums. Enter Macduffe.

Macd.
That way the noise is: Tyrant shew thy face,
If thou beest slaine, and with no stroake of mine,
My Wife and Childrens Ghosts will haunt me still:
I cannot strike at wretched Kernes, whose armes
Are hyr'd to beare their Staues; either thou Macbeth,
Or else my Sword with an vnbattered edge
I sheath againe vndeeded. There thou should'st be,
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seemes bruited. Let me finde him Fortune,
And more I begge not.
Exit.
Alarums. Enter Malcolme and Seyward.

Sey.
This way my Lord, the Castles gently rendred:
The Tyrants people, on both sides do fight,
The Noble Thanes do brauely in the Warre,
The day almost it selfe professes yours,
And little is to do.

Malc.
We haue met with Foes
That strike beside vs.

Sey
Enter Sir, the Castle.
Exeunt.
Alarum. Enter Macbeth.

Macb.
Why should I play the Roman Foole, and dye
On mine owne sword? whiles I see liues, the gashes
Do better vpon them.
Enter Macduffe.

Macd.
Turne Hell-hound, turne.

Macb.
Of all men else I haue auoyded thee:
But get thee backe, my soule is too much charg'd
With blood of thine already.

Macd.
I haue no words,
My voice is in my Sword, thou bloodier Villaine
Then tearmes can giue thee out.
Fight: Alarum

Macb.
Thou loosest labour
As easie may'st thou the intrenchant Ayre
With thy keene Sword impresse, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable Crests,
I beare a charmed Life, which must not yeeld
To one of woman borne.

Macd.
Dispaire thy Charme,
And let the Angell whom thou still hast seru'd
Tell thee, Macduffe was from his Mothers womb
Vntimely ript.

Macb.
Accursed be that tongue that tels mee so;
For it hath Cow'd my better part of man:
And be these Iugling Fiends no more beleeu'd,
That palter with vs in a double sence,
That keepe the word of promise to our eare,
And breake it to our hope. Ile not fight with thee.

Macd.
Then yeeld thee Coward,
And liue to be the shew, and gaze o'th' time.
Wee'l haue thee, as our rarer Monsters are
Painted vpon a pole, and vnder-writ,
Heere may you see the Tyrant.

Macb.
I will not yeeld
To kisse the ground before young Malcolmes feet,
And to be baited with the Rabbles curse.
Though Byrnane wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou oppos'd, being of no woman borne,
Yet I will try the last. Before my body,
I throw my warlike Shield: Lay on Macduffe,
And damn'd be him, that first cries hold, enough.
Exeunt fighting.
Alarums. Enter Fighting, and Macbeth slaine.
Retreat, and Flourish. Enter with Drumme and Colours,
Malcolm, Seyward, Rosse, Thanes, & Soldiers

Mal.
I would the Friends we misse, were safe arriu'd.

Sey.
Some must go off: and yet by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheapely bought.

Mal.
Macduffe is missing, and your Noble Sonne.

Rosse.
Your son my Lord, ha's paid a souldiers debt,
He onely liu'd but till he was a man,
The which no sooner had his Prowesse confirm'd
In the vnshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he dy'de.

Sey.
Then he is dead?

Rosse.
I, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
It hath no end.

Sey.
Had he his hurts before?

Rosse.
I, on the Front.

Sey.
Why then, Gods Soldier be he:
Had I as many Sonnes, as I haue haires,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his Knell is knoll'd.

Mal.
Hee's worth more sorrow,
and that Ile spend for him.

Sey.
He's worth no more,
They say he parted well, and paid his score,
And so God be with him. Here comes newer comfort.
Enter Macduffe, with Macbeths head.

Macd.
Haile King, for so thou art. / Behold where stands
Th' Vsurpers cursed head: the time is free:
I see thee compast with thy Kingdomes Pearle,
That speake my salutation in their minds:
Whose voyces I desire alowd with mine.
Haile King of Scotland.

All
Haile King of Scotland.
Flourish.:

Mal.
We shall not spend a large expence of time,
Before we reckon with your seuerall loues,
And make vs euen with you. My Thanes and Kinsmen
Henceforth be Earles, the first that euer Scotland
In such an Honor 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 watchfull Tyranny,
Producing forth the cruell Ministers
Of this dead Butcher, and his Fiend-like Queene;
Who (as 'tis thought) by selfe and violent hands,
Tooke off her life. This, and what need full else
That call's vpon vs, by the Grace of Grace,
We will performe in measure, time, and place:
So thankes to all at once, and to each one,
Whom we inuite, to see vs Crown'd at Scone.
Flourish. Exeunt Omnes.
Modern text
Act V, Scene I
Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman

DOCTOR
I have two nights watched with you, but can
perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last
walked?

GENTLEWOMAN
Since his majesty went into the field I
have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown
upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it,
write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return
to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

DOCTOR
A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once
the benefit of sleep and do the effects of watching. In
this slumbery agitation, besides her walking and other
actual performances, what, at any time, have you heard
her say?

GENTLEWOMAN
That, sir, which I will not report after
her.

DOCTOR
You may to me; and 'tis most meet you should.

GENTLEWOMAN
Neither to you nor anyone, 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.

DOCTOR
How came she by that light?

GENTLEWOMAN
Why, it stood by her. She has light by
her continually; 'tis her command.

DOCTOR
You see her eyes are open.

GENTLEWOMAN
Ay, but their sense are shut.

DOCTOR
What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her
hands.

GENTLEWOMAN
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.

LADY
Yet here's a spot.

DOCTOR
Hark! She speaks. I will set down what comes
from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

LADY
Out, damned spot! Out, I say! – One: two: why
then, 'tis time to do't. – Hell is murky! – Fie, my lord,
fie! A soldier and afeard? What need we fear who
knows it, when none can call our power to accompt? –
Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so
much blood in him?

DOCTOR
Do you mark that?

LADY
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.

DOCTOR
Go to, go to: you have known what you should
not.

GENTLEWOMAN
She has spoke what she should not, I am
sure of that. Heaven knows what she has known.

LADY
Here's the smell of the blood still. All the perfumes
of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! Oh! Oh!

DOCTOR
What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.

GENTLEWOMAN
I would not have such a heart in my
bosom for the dignity of the whole body.

DOCTOR
Well, well, well.

GENTLEWOMAN
Pray God it be, sir.

DOCTOR
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
Wash your hands; put on your nightgown; look not
so pale. I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot
come out on's grave.

DOCTOR
Even so?

LADY
To bed, to bed! There's knocking at the gate.
Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's
done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
Exit

DOCTOR
Will she go now to bed?

GENTLEWOMAN
Directly.

DOCTOR
Foul whisperings are abroad; unnatural deeds
Do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
More needs she the divine than the physician.
God, God forgive us all! Look after her,
Remove from her the means of all annoyance
And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night.
My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight.
I think, but dare not speak.

GENTLEWOMAN
Good night, good doctor.
Exeunt
Modern text
Act V, Scene II
Drum and colours. Enter Menteth, Cathness, Angus,
Lennox, Soldiers

MENTETH
The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Seyward and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
Excite the mortified man.

ANGUS
Near Birnan Wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.

CATHNESS
Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?

LENNOX
For certain, sir, he is not. I have a file
Of all the gentry: there is Seyward's son
And many unrough youths that even now
Protest their first of manhood.

MENTETH
What does the tyrant?

CATHNESS
Great Dunsinane 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 distempered cause
Within the belt of rule.

ANGUS
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.

MENTETH
Who then shall blame
His pestered senses to recoil and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself for being there?

CATHNESS
Well, march we on
To give obedience where 'tis truly owed.
Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
And with him pour we in our country's purge
Each drop of us.

LENNOX
Or so much as it needs
To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.
Make we our march towards Birnan.
Exeunt, marching
Modern text
Act V, Scene III
Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants

MACBETH
Bring me no more reports; let them fly all.
Till Birnan Wood remove to Dunsinane
I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus:
‘ Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman
Shall e'er have power upon thee.’ Then fly, false thanes,
And mingle with the English epicures.
The mind I sway by and the heart I bear
Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear.
Enter Servant
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!
Where got'st thou that goose look?

SERVANT
There is ten thousand –

MACBETH
Geese, villain?

SERVANT
Soldiers, sir.

MACBETH
Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-livered boy. What soldiers, patch?
Death of thy soul! Those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?

SERVANT
The English force, so please you.

MACBETH
Take thy face hence.
Exit Servant
Seyton! – I am sick at heart
When I behold – Seyton, I say! – This push
Will chair me ever or dis-seat me now.
I have lived long enough: my way of life
Is fallen into the sere, the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath
Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not.
Seyton!
Enter Seyton

SEYTON
What's your gracious pleasure?

MACBETH
What news more?

SEYTON
All is confirmed, my lord, which was reported.

MACBETH
I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hacked.
Give me my armour.

SEYTON
'Tis not needed yet.

MACBETH
I'll put it on.
Send out more horses, skirr the country round,
Hang those that talk of fear. – Give me mine armour. –
How does your patient, doctor?

DOCTOR
Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies
That keep her from her rest.

MACBETH
Cure her of that.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some sweet oblivious antidote
Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?

DOCTOR
Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.

MACBETH
Throw physic to the dogs! I'll none of it. –
Come, put mine armour on, give me my staff.
Seyton, send out. – Doctor, the thanes fly from me. –
Come, sir, dispatch. – If thou couldst, doctor, cast
The water of my land, find her disease
And purge it 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? Hear'st thou of them?

DOCTOR
Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
Makes us hear something.

MACBETH
– Bring it after me.
I will not be afraid of death and bane
Till Birnan forest come to Dunsinane.
Exit

DOCTOR
Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
Profit again should hardly draw me here.
Exit
Modern text
Act V, Scene IV
Drum and colours. Enter Malcolm, Seyward, Macduff,
Seyward's Son, Menteth, Cathness, Angus, and
Soldiers, marching

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

MENTETH
We doubt it nothing.

SEYWARD
What wood is this before us?

MENTETH
The wood of Birnan.

MALCOLM
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.

SOLDIERS
It shall be done.

SEYWARD
We learn no other but the confident tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane and will endure
Our setting down before't.

MALCOLM
'Tis his main hope.
For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less have given him the revolt,
And none serve with him but constrained things
Whose hearts are absent too.

MACDUFF
Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.

SEYWARD
The time approaches
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
Modern text
Act V, Scene V
Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers, with drum and
colours

MACBETH
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 farced with those that should be ours
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home.
A cry within of women
What is that noise?

SEYTON
It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Exit

MACBETH
I have almost forgot the taste of fears.
The time has been my senses would have cooled
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 supped full with horrors:
Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.
Enter Seyton
Wherefore was that cry?

SEYTON
The queen, my lord, is dead.

MACBETH
She should have died hereafter.
There would have been a time for such a word –
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
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 death. Out, out, brief candle!
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!

MESSENGER
Gracious my lord,
I should report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to do't.

MACBETH
Well, say, sir.

MESSENGER
As I did stand my watch upon the hill
I look'd toward Birnan and anon methought
The wood began to move.

MACBETH
Liar and slave!

MESSENGER
Let me endure your wrath if't be not so.
Within this three mile may you see it coming.
I say, a moving grove.

MACBETH
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, and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
That lies like truth. ‘ Fear not, till Birnan 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
Modern text
Act V, Scene VI
Drum and colours. Enter Malcolm, Seyward, Macduff,
and their Army, with boughs

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.

SEYWARD
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
Alarums continued
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 Seyward

YOUNG SEYWARD
What is thy name?

MACBETH
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

YOUNG SEYWARD
No, though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
Than any is in hell.

MACBETH
My name's Macbeth.

YOUNG SEYWARD
The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.

MACBETH
No, nor more fearful.

YOUNG SEYWARD
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant! With my sword
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
Fight, and Young Seyward slain

MACBETH
Thou wast born of woman.
But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandished by man that's of a woman born.
Exit
Alarums. Enter Macduff

MACDUFF
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 kerns, whose arms
Are hired to bear their staves. Either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword with an unbattered 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 Seyward

SEYWARD
This way, my lord. The castle's gently rendered.
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.

SEYWARD
Enter, sir, the castle.
Exeunt
Alarum. 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, hellhound, 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.
Fight. Alarum

MACBETH
Thou losest labour.
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 ripped.

MACBETH
Accursed be that tongue that tells me so;
For it hath cowed my better part of man;
And be these juggling fiends no more believed
That palter 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.

MACDUFF
Then yield thee, coward;
And live to be the show and gaze o'the time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit,
‘ Here may you see the tyrant.’

MACBETH
I will not yield
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnan Wood be come to Dunsinane
And thou opposed, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last. Before my body
I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff;
And damned be him that first cries, ‘ Hold, enough!’
Exeunt fighting
Alarums. Enter fighting, and Macbeth slain
Exit Macduff
Retreat and flourish. Enter with drum and colours
Malcolm, Seyward, Ross, Thanes, and Soldiers

MALCOLM
I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.

SEYWARD
Some must go off; and yet, by these I see
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

MALCOLM
Macduff is missing and your noble son.

ROSS
Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt.
He only lived but till he was a man;
The which no sooner had his prowess confirmed
In the unshrinking station where he fought
But, like a man, he died.

SEYWARD
Then he is dead?

ROSS
Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow
Must not be measured by his worth, for then
It hath no end.

SEYWARD
Had he his hurts before?

ROSS
Ay, on the front.

SEYWARD
Why then, God's soldier be he.
Had I as many sons as I have hairs
I would not wish them to a fairer death.
And so, his knell is knolled.

MALCOLM
He's worth more sorrow;
And that I'll spend for him.

SEYWARD
He's worth no more:
They say he parted well, and paid his score.
And so, God be with him. – Here comes newer comfort.
Enter Macduff with Macbeth's head

MACDUFF
Hail, King! For so thou art. Behold where stands
The usurper's cursed head. The time is free.
I see thee compassed with thy kingdom's pearl
That speak my salutation in their minds,
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine. –
Hail, King of Scotland!

ALL
Hail, King of Scotland!
Flourish

MALCOLM
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 kinsmen,
Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
In such an honour named. What's more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,
As calling home our exiled 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
Took off her life – this, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace
We will perform in measure, time, and place.
So thanks to all at once, and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crowned at Scone.
Flourish. Exeunt
SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS © 2018 DAVID CRYSTAL & BEN CRYSTAL