Macbeth+Act+V

SCENE I. Dunsinane. Ante-room in the castle.
> //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 night-gown 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 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.

**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 is 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 MACBETH** > 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 MACBETH** > 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

> account?--Yet who would have thought the old man

> to have had so much blood in him.

**Doctor** > Do you mark that?

**LADY MACBETH** > 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 MACBETH** > 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 practise: yet I have known

> those which have walked in their sleep who have died

> holily in their beds.

**LADY MACBETH** > 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 MACBETH** > 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//

SCENE II. The country near Dunsinane.
> //Drum and colours. Enter MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, and Soldiers// **MENTEITH** > The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,

> 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.

**ANGUS** > Near Birnam wood

> Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.

**CAITHNESS** > 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 Siward's son,

> And many unrough youths that even now

> Protest their first of manhood.

**MENTEITH** > What does the tyrant?

**CAITHNESS** > 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 distemper'd 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.

**MENTEITH** > Who then shall blame

> His pester'd senses to recoil and start,

> When all that is within him does condemn

> Itself for being there?

**CAITHNESS** > 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 Birnam.

> //Exeunt, marching//

SCENE III. Dunsinane. A room in the castle.
> //Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants// **MACBETH** > Bring me no more reports; let them fly all:

> Till Birnam 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 a 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-liver'd 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 cheer me ever, or disseat me now.

> I have lived long enough: my way of life

> Is fall'n into the sear, 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 is your gracious pleasure?

**MACBETH** > What news more?

**SEYTON** > All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.

**MACBETH** > I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.

> 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 stuff'd 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, cyme, 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 Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

**Doctor** > [Aside] Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,

> Profit again should hardly draw me here.

> //Exeunt//

SCENE IV. Country near Birnam wood.
> //Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD and YOUNG SIWARD, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, ROSS, and Soldiers, marching// **MALCOLM** > Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand

> That chambers will be safe.

**MENTEITH** > We doubt it nothing.

**SIWARD** > What wood is this before us?

**MENTEITH** > The wood of Birnam.

**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.

**SIWARD** > 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.

**SIWARD** > 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//

SCENE V. Dunsinane. Within the castle.
> //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 forced with those that should be ours,

> We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,

> And beat them backward home.

> //A cry of women within// > 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 cool'd

> 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 supp'd full with horrors;

> Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts

> Cannot once start me.

> //Re-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.

> To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

> 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 comest 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 it.

**MACBETH** > Well, say, sir.

**Messenger** > As I did stand my watch upon the hill,

> I look'd toward Birnam, 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 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.
> //Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, SIWARD, MACDUFF, and their Army, with boughs// **MALCOLM** > Now near enough: your leafy 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 to-night,

> 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. Another part of the field.
> //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** > Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword

> I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

> //They fight and YOUNG SIWARD 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 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 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 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. Alarums//

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 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 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 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 on 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 Birnam 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 damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'

> //Exeunt, fighting. Alarums// > //Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, SIWARD, ROSS, the other Thanes, and Soldiers// **MALCOLM** > I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.

**SIWARD** > 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 confirm'd

> In the unshrinking station where he fought,

> But like a man he died.

**SIWARD** > 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.

**SIWARD** > Had he his hurts before?

**ROSS** > Ay, on the front.

**SIWARD** > 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 knoll'd.

**MALCOLM** > He's worth more sorrow,

> And that I'll spend for him.

**SIWARD** > He's worth no more

> They say he parted well, and paid his score:

> And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.

> //Re-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 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** > 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 crown'd at Scone.

> //Flourish. Exeunt//