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That will with due decision make us know
Dunsinane. Within the Castle.
Enter, with Drums and Colours, MACBETH, SEY
TON, and Soldiers. Macb. 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 fainine, and the ague, eat thein up: Were they nọt 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 noise ?
[A cry within, of Women. Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
Scy. The queen, my lord, is dead.
arbitrate:] i.e. determine. .
There would have been a time for such a word.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Gracious my lord,
Well, say, sir.
Liar, and slave!
If thou speak’st false,
? Till famine cling thee:] Clung, in the Northern counties, signifies any thing that is shrivelled
or shrunk up.
Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and out!
A Plain before the Castle.
Enter, with Drums and Colours, MALCOLM, old
SIWARD, MACDUFF, &c. and their Army, with
all breath Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
[Exeunt. Alarums continued.
Another Part of the Plain.
Macb. 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.
. Yo. Siw. What is thy name? Macb.
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it. Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter
is in hell. Macb.
My name's Macbeth. Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce
More hateful to mine ear.
No, nor more fearful.
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, whose arms
Enter MALCOLM and old SIWARD.
Siw. This way, my lord ;---the castle's gently
We have met with foes
Enter, sir, the castle.
Re-enter MACBETH. Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and
die On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better upon them. .
Re-enter MacDUFF. Macd.
Turn, hell-hound, turn. Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee: But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd With blood of thine already. Macd.
I have no words,
2 Secms bruited:] From bruit, Fr. To bruit is to report with clamour; to noise.