Dd .
406 The Tragedy of MACBETH.
Mai. " But I have none; the King-becoming
graces,
" As juftice, verity, temp'rance, ftablenefs,
<; Bounty, perfev'rance, mercy, lowlinefs,
" Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude j
*' I have no relifh of 'them, but abound
' In the divifion of each feveral crime,
u Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I mould
" Pour the fweet milk of Concord into Hell,
" Uproar the univerfal peace, confound
" All unity on earth.
Macd. Oh Scot land! Scotland!
Mai. If fuch a one be fit to govern, fpeak :
I am as I have fpoken.
Macd. " Fit to govern ?
" No, not to live. O nation miferable,
" With an untitled tyrant, bloody-fcepter'd !
" When fhalt thou fee thy wholefome days again ?
" Since that the trued Iffue of thy Throne
" By his own interdiction ftands accurft,
" And does blafpheme his Breed. Thy royal father
Was a moil fainted King ; the Queen, that bore thee,
Oftner upon her knees than on her feet,
Dy'd every day me liv'd. Oh, fare thee well !
Thefe evils, thou 4 repeat*ft upon thyfelf,
Have banifh'd me from Scotland. Oh, my breaft !
Thy hope ends here.
Mai. " Macduff, this noble Paffion,
' Child of integrity, hath from my foul
\V5p*d the black fcruples$ reconcil'd my thoughts
To thy good truth and honour. Devililh Macbeth
By many of thefe trains hath fought to win me
Into hispow'r: and modeft wifdom plucks me
From over-credulous hafte ; But God above
Deal between thee and me! for even now
4 repeat'ft upon ttyfelf,'] Repeat, fbr reckon up,
charge upon.
The Tragedy of MACBETH. 407
I put myfelf to thy direction, and
Unfpeak mine own detraction ; here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myfelf,
For (Irangers to my nature. 1 am yet
Unknown to woman, never was forfworn,
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
At no time broke my faith, would not betray
The devil to his fellow, and delight
No lefs in truth, than life : my firft falfe-fpeaking
Was this upon myfelf. What I am truly,
Is thine, and my poor Country's, to command :
Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Siward with ten thoufand warlike men,
* All ready at appoint, was fetting forth.
Now we'll together, 6 and the chance of goodnefs,
Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you filent?
Macd. Such welcome, and unwelcome things at
once;
7 'Tis hard to reconcile.
SCENE V.
Enter a Doftor.
Mai. Well ; more anon. Comes the King forth,
I pray you ?
DQ&. Ay, Sir 5 there are a crew of wretched fouls,
5 All ready at A p o i N T, ] At a point, may mean all ready
at a time; but Shake/pear meant more: He meant both time and
place, and certainly wrote,
All ready at A PPO I NT,
/. /. At the place appointed, at the rendezvous.
6 and the chance of goodnefs,
Be like our warranted quarrel!] i. e. May the lot providence
has decreed for us be anfwerable to the juftice of our quarrel. Th
Oxford Editor alters it to,
our chance in goodnefs,
A poor, cold unmeaning exprelfion.
7 Tw bard to reconcile.} To reconcile, for to bear with temper.
D d 4 That
408 Ik* Tragedy of M A c B E T H.
That flay his cure ; 8 their malady convinces
The great aflay of art. But, at his Touch,
Such ianftity hath heaven given his hand,
They prcfcntly amend. [Exit.
Mai. I thank you, Dotor.
Macd. What's the Difeafe he means ?
Mai. Tis cail'd the Evil ;
A moft miraculous Work in this good King,
Which often fince my here remain in England
I've feen him do. How he follicits heav'n,
Himfelf beft knows ; but ftrangely-vifited people,
All fwoln and ulc'rous, pitiful to the eye,
The mere defpair of furgery, he cures ;
Hanging a golden Stamp about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers : 9 and 'tis fpoken,
To the fucceeding Royalty he leaves
The healing Benedidioa. With this ftrange virtue,
He hath a heavenly gift of Prophecy ;
And fundry blefiings hang about his Throne,
That fpeak him full of Grace.
8 their malady convinces] Convinces, for defeats, over-
comes. Becaufe in difputations, thofe who are convinced by others
arguments are faid to be overcome, therefore, where he wants to
exprefs the idea of being defeated, tho' not by arguments, he ufes
(tnvince.
9 -and "'tis Jpoken,
To the fucceeding Royalty he haves
The healing Benedifiion ] It muft be own'd, that Shake-
fpear is often guilty of ftrange abfurdities in point of hiftory and
chronology. Yet here he has artfully avoided one. He had a
jnind to hint that the cure of the Evil was to defcend to the fuc-
ceffors in the Royal line in compliment to James the firff. But the
Confeffor was the firft who pretended to this gift : How then could
it beat that time generally fpoken of that the gift was hereditary ?
this he has folved by telling us that Edward had the gift of pro-
phecy along with it,
SCENE
Tfe Tragedy of MACBETH. 409
SCENE VI.
Enter Rofie.
Macd. See, who comes here !
Mai. My country man ; but yet I know him not.
Macd. My ever-gentle Coufin, welcome hither.
Mai I know him now. Good God betimes remove
The means that makes us ftrangers !
Ro/e. Sir, Amen.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did ?
Ro/e. ' Alas, poor Country,
Almoft afraid to know itfelf. It cannot
Be call'd our Mother, but our Grave; where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once feen to fmile :
Where fighs and groans, and fhrieks that rend the air,
Are made, not mark'd ; where violent forrow feems
1 A modern ecftafie : the dead-man's Knell
Is there fcarce ask'd, for whom : and good men's
lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps ;
Dying, or ere they ficken.
Macd. Oh, relation
Too nice, and yet too true!
Mai. What's the neweft grief ?
Ro/e. That of an hour's age doth hifs the fpeaker,
Each minute teems a new one.
Macd. How does my wife ?
Ro/e. Why, well.
Macd. And all my children ?
Ro/e. Well too.
Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace ?
Ro/e. No , they were well at peace, when I did
leave 'em.
I A modern ecftafie ] That is no more regarded than the
contorfions that Fanatics throw themfelves into. The author was
thinking of thojfe of his own times.
Mace.
4 1 o Tie Tragedy of M A c B E T H.
Macd. Be not a niggard of your fpeech : how
goes it ?
Roffe. When I came hither to tranfport the tydings,
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
Of many worthy fellows that were out,
Which was to my belief * witnefs'd the rather,
For that I faw the Tyrant's Power a-foot;
Now is the time of help ; your eye in Scotland
Wou'd create foldicrs, and make women fight,
To doff their dirediftreffes.
Mai. Bc't their comfort
We're coming thither: gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thoufand men ;
An older, and a better foldier, none
That Chriftendom gives out.
Ro/e. " 'Would I could anfwer
" This comfort with the like! But I have words,
*' That would be howl'd out in the defart air,
" Where Hearing fhould not catch them."
Macd. What concern they ?
The gen'ral caufe ? or is it a fee- grief,
Due to fome fingle breaft ?
Roffe. No mind, that's honeft,
But in it mares fome woe ; though the main part
Pertains to you alone.
Macd. If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
Roffe. Let not your ears defpife my tongue for ever,.
Which mail poflefs them with the heavieil Sound,
That ever yet they heard.
Macd. " Hum ! 1 guefs at it.
Roffe. Your Caftle is furpriz'd, your wife and babes
Savagely flaughter'd ; to relate the manner,
Were on the Qjarry of thefe murther'd deer
To add the death of you.
Mai. Merciful heav'n !
2 . witnefs'd the rather'] Witnefid,, for confirm'd.
What,
The Tragedy of M A c B E T H. 411
"What, man ! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows ;
Give ibrrow words ; the grief, that does not fpeak,
Whifpers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.
Macd. " My children too !
Roffe. Wife, children, fervants, all that could be
found.
Macd. And I muft be from thence! my wife
kill'd too!
Roffe. I'vefaid.
Mai. Be comforted.
Let*s make us med'cines of our great Revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.
Macd. " He has no children. All my pretty
ones ?
" Did you fay, all ? what, all ? oh, hell-kite! all ?
" What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam,
" At one fell fwoop?
Mai. Difpute it like a Man.
Macd. " I mall dofo:
" But I muft alfo feel it as a Man.
*' I cannot but remember fuch things were,
" That were molt precious to me : did heav'n look on^
" And would not take their part? finful Macduff^
" They were all ftruck for thee ! naught that I am,
" Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
** Fell Slaughter on their fouls : heav'n reft them now !
Mai. Be this the whetftone of your fword, let
grief
Convert to wrath : blunt not the heart, enrage it.
Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue. " But, gentle heav'n!
" Cut fhort all intermiffion : front to front,
*' Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and my felf ;
" Within my fwords length fet him, if he 'fcape,
" Then heav'n forgive him too!
Mai. This tune goes manly :
Come, go we to the King, our Power is ready -,
Our
412 The Tragedy of MACB ET H.
Our lack is nothing but our leave. " Macbeth
" Is ripe for (baking, and the Powers above
" Put on their Inftruments. Receive what cheer you
may ;
The night is long, that never finds the day. \Exaint.
ACTV. SCENE I.
An Ante-chamber in Macbeth'^ Co/lie.
Enter a Doflor of Phyfick, and a Gentlewoman.
DOC TOR.
I HAVE two nights watch'd with you, but can
perceive no truth in your report. When was it, flic
laft walk'd ?
Gent. Since his Majefty went into the field, I have
feen her rife from her bed, throw her night-gown up-
on her, unlock her clofet, take forth paper, fold it,
wri^e upon'r, read it, afterwards feal it, and again
return to bed ; Yet all this while in a moft faft fleep.
Dott. A great perturbation in nature \ to receive at
once the benefit of fleep, and do the effe&s of watch-
ing. In this flumbry agitation, befides her walking,
and other actual performances, what (at any time) have
you heard her fay ?
Gent. ' That, Sir, which I will not report after her.
Doft. You may to me, and 'tis moft meet you mould.
Gent. Neither to you, nor any one, having no wit-
nefs to confirm my fpeech.
Enter Lady Macbeth with a Taper.
Lp, you ! here (he comes : this is her very guife, and
upon my life, faft afleep ; obferve her, (land clofe.
i That, Sir, which Iixill not report after her."} I think it fliould
lather be repeat.
Doff.
The Tragedy of M A c B E T H. 413
Doff. How came fhe by that light ?
Gent. Why, it flood by her : fhe has light by her
continually, 'tis her command.
Doft. You fee, her eyes are open.
Gent. Ay, but their fenfe is fhut.
Doll. What is it fhe does now ? look, how fhe rubs
her hands.
Gent. It is an accuftom'd Action with her, to feem
thus warning her hands : I have known her continue'
in this a quarter of an hour.
Lady. Yet here's a fpot.
Doff. Hark, fhe fpeaks. I will fet down what comes
from her, * to fortifie my remembrance the more
ftrongly.
Lady. " Out ! damned fpot ; out, I fay one;
" two $ why then, 'tis time to do't hell is murky.
** Fie, my lord, fie! a foldier, and afraid? 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 fo much blood in him ?
Doft. Do you mark that ?
Lady. The Thane of Fife had a wife 5 where is flic
now ; " what, will thefe hands ne'er be clean ?
*' no more o* that, my lord, no more o' that: you
" mar all with this flarting.
Doff. Go to, go to 5 you have known what you
fhould not.
Gent. She has fpoke what fhe fhould not, I am furc
of that : heav'n knows, what fhe has known.
Lady. " Here's the fmell of the blood flill : all the
perfumes of Arabia will not fwceten this little hand.
Oh! oh! oh!
Doff. What a figh is there ? the heart is forely
charg'd.
2 /o SATIS FIE my remembrance the more ftrongly.] Both the
fenfe and expreffion require we ftiould read,
to F o R T i F i E my remembrance,
Gent.
414 The Tragedy of M A c B E T H.
Gent. I would not have fuch a heart in my bofom,
for the dignity of the whole body.
Dotl. Well, well, well
Gent. Pray God, it be, Sir.
Dott. This difeafe is beyond my practice : yet I have
known thofe which have walk'd in their fleep, who
have died holily in their beds.
Lady. " Warn your hands, put on your Night-
" gown, look not fo pale I tell you yet again, Ban-
* quo's buried ; he cannot come out of his Grave.
Dott. Even fo?
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 Lady.
Doft. Will me go now to bed ?
Gent. Directly.
Doft. Foul whifp'rings are abroad ; unnat'ral deeds
Do breed unnat'ral troubles. Infected minds
To their deaf pillows will difcharge their Secrets.
More needs me the Divine, than the Phyfician.
God, God, forgive us all ! Look after her ;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And ftill keep eyes upon her -, fo, good night.
3 My mind me'as mated, and amaz'd my fight.
I think, but dare not fpeak.
Gent. Good night, good Do&or. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Changes to a Field, with a Wood at dlftance.
Enter Menteth, Cathnefs, Angus, Lenox, and Soldiers.
Ment. '"Tp H E Englijh Power is near, led on by
A Malcolm^
3 My mind Jh fat mated,] Conquer'd or fubdued.
Mr. Pope.
the Tragedy of M AC B E TH.
His uncle Siward^ and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them : for their dear caufes
4 Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
* Excite the mortified man.
Ang. Near Birnam-wood
Shall we well meet them , that way are they coming.
Catb. Who knows, if Donalbain be with his bro-
ther ?
Len. For certain, Sir, he is not : I've a file
Of all the Gentry -, there is Siwfird's fon
And many unrough youths, that even now,
Proteft their firft of manhood.
Ment. What does the tyrant ?
Cath. Great Dun/inane he ftrongly fortifies \
Some fay, he's mad : others, that Jeffer hate him,
Do call it valiant fury : but for certain,
He cannot buckle his diftemper'd Caufe
Within the belt of Rule.
Ang. Now do's he feel
His fecret murthers flicking on his hands ;
Now minutely Revolts upbraid his faith-breach \
Thofe, he commands, move only in command,
Nothing in love : now does he feel his Title
Hang loofe about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfifli thief.
Ment. Who then mall blame
His pefter'd fenfes to recoil, and dart,
When all that is within him docs condemn
4 Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm] This line omitted
in all but the firft edition in Folio. Mr. Pope.
5 Excite the mortified man,'} Mr. Theobald will needs explain
this expreffion. // means (fays he) the man who hut abandoned
himfelfto defpair, *who hat no fpirit or refolution left. Andtofup-
port this fenfe of mortified man t he quotes mortified fpirit in ano-
ther place. But if this was the meaning, Sbakefpear had not wrote
the mortified man but a mortified man. In a word by the morti-
Jied man, is meant a Religious ; one who has fubdued his paflions, is
dead to the world, has abandoned it, and all the affairs of it; an
Itfelf,
T>
JD
416 The Tragedy of MACBETH.
Itfelf, for being there ?
Catb. Well, march we on,
To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd :
6 Meet we the med*cine of the fickly Weal,
And with him pour we, in our Country's purge,
Each drop of us.
Len. Or fo much as it needs,
To dew the fovereign flower, and drown the weeds.
Make up our March towards Birnam*
SCENE III.
*fhe Cajlk of DUNS INANE.
Enter Macbeth, Doffor, and Attendants.
G me no more Reports, let them
fly all:
Till Birnam-vfood remove to Dunfinane^
I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm ?
Was he not born of woman ? Spirits, that know
7 All mortal confequences, have pronounc'd it :
Fear not, Macbeth ; no man, that's born of woman,
Shall e'er have power upon thee. Then fly t falfe
Thanes,
And mingle with the Englijh Epicures.
The mind I fway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never fagg with doubt, nor (hake with fear.
Enter a Servant.
The devil damn thee black, chou cream'fac'd lown !
Where got*ft thou that goofe-look ?
Ser. There are ten thoufand
Macb. Geefe, villain ?
6 Meet we tbe MED'CINE - ] We fhould read MEDECIN,
/. e. the phyfician. Both the fenfe and pronoun him, in the next
line, require it.
7 All mortal confequences,] Confluences, for events.
Ser.
The Tragedy ofMACBETH. 417
Ser. Soldiers, Sir.
Macb. Go, prick thy flic?, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lilly-liver'd boy. What foldiers, patch ?
Death of thy foul ! 8 thofe linnen cheeks of thine
Are counfellors to fear. What foldiers, whey-face ?
Ser. The Engli/h force, fo pleafe you.
Macb. " Take thy face hence Seyton! I'm fick
at heart,
" When I behold Seyton, I fay ! This pufh
" Will cheer me ever, ordifeafc me now.
" I have liv'd long enough : 9 my way of life
** Is fall'n into the Sear, the yellow leaf:
And that, which mould accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I muft not look to have: but in their (lead,
Curfes not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not,
Seyton,
Enter Seyton.
Sey. What is your gracious pleafurc ?
Macb. What news more ?
Sey. All isconfirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
Macb. I'll fight, 'till from my bones my flefh be
hackt ;
Give me my armour.
Sey. 'Tis not needed yet.
thofe linnen cheeks of thine
Art Counfellors to fear.'] The meaning is, they infeft others
who fee them with cowardice.
9 ' my way of life
L falfn into the Sear, ] An Anonymui would have it,
my May of life:
But he did not confider that Macbeth is not here fpeaking of his
rule or government, or of any fudden change ; but of the gradual
decline of life, as appears from this line,
And that, iuhichJhouU accompany old age.
And way, is ufed for courfe, progrefs.
VOL. VI. Ee Macb.
4 1 8 The Tragedy of MACBETH.
Macb. I'll put it on.
Send out more hories, skirre the country round j
Hang thofe, that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.
How do's your Patient, Doclor ?
DoR. Not fo fick, my lord,
As fhe is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her reft.
Macb. Cure her of that :
Canft thou not minifter to a mind difeas'd,
Pluck from the memory a rooted forrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain ;
And, with fome fweet oblivious antidote,
Clean fe the fluff 'd bofom of that perilous fluff,
Which weighs upon the heart ?
Doft. Therein the Patient
Muft minifter unto himfelf.
Macb. " Throw phyfick to the dogs, I'll none
of it-
Come, put my armour on 5 give me my ftaff.
Seyton, fend out Doctor, the Thanes fly from me
Come, Sir, difpatch If thou could'ft, Doctor, caft
The water of my Land, find her difeafe,
And purge it to a found and priftine health ;
I would applaud thee to the very Echo,
That mould applaud again, PulPt off, I fay
1 What rubarb, fenna, or what purgative drug,
Would fcour thefe Englijh hence ! hear 'ft thou of them ?
Doft. Ay, my good lord 3 your royal Preparation j
Makes us hear fomething.
Macb. Bring it after me ;
I will not be afraid of death and bane,
'Till /?zmzm-foreft come to Dunfinane.
Doft. Were I from Dunfinane away and clear,
Profit again fhould hardly draw me here. [Exeunt.
I What rubarb, fenna, ] Shake/pear fhould not have in-
ftanced in the tribe of gentle purgatives when he talked of fcour-
ing out the Envlifh.
SCENE
the Tragedy of MACBETH. 419
SCENE IV.
Changes to Bi
Enter Malcolm, Siward, MacdufF, Siward'j Son,
Menteth ; Cathnefs, Angus, and Soldiers marching.
Mai. f^ OU S I M S ; I hope the days are near at
V^y hand,
That chambers will be fafe.
Ment. We doubt it nothing.
Siw. What wood is this before us ?
Ment. The wood of Birnam.
Mai. Let every foldier hew him down a bough,
And bear't before him j thereby fliall we lhadow
The numbers of our Hoft, and make difcov'ry
Err in report of us.
Sold. It Ikill be done.
6'ra>. We learn no other, z but the confin'd tyrant
Keeps ftill in Dnnfinane, and will endure
Our fetting down before't.
Mai. 'Tis his main hope:
For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and lefs have given him the Revolt ;
And none ferve with him but conftrained things,
Whofe hearts are abfent too.
Macd. Let our juft cenfures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Induftrious foldierlhip.
2 - but the CONFI DEXT tyrant] The editors have herefpoil'd
the meafure in order to give a tyrant an epithet that does not be-
long to him ; (namely confidence, or repofing himfeif fecurely in
any thing or perfon) while they reje&ed the true one, expreffive of
a tyrant's jealoufy and fufpicion, and declarative of the fat. .We
Kiufl furely read,
CON PIN' D tyrant.
E e 2
420 The Tragedy of M A C B E T H.
Skv. The time approaches,
" That will with due decifion make us know
44 J What we (hall fay we have, and what we owe :
" Thoughts fpeculative their unfure hopes relate ;
tc But certain iilue* Strokes muft arbitrate :
Towards which, advance the war. [Exeunt marching.
SCENE V.
Changes to the Caflle of Dunfinane.
Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers with drums and
colours.
out our banners on the outward
walls,
The Cry is (till, they come: our Caftle's ftrength
Will laugh a fiege to fcorn. Here let them lye,
'Till famine and the ague -eat them up :
4 Were they not forc'd with thofe that mould be ours,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home. What is thatnoife ?
\_A cry within of women.
Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Macb. I have almoft forgot the taftc of fears :
The time has been, my fenfes would have cool'd
To hear a night-fhriek ; and my fell of hair
Would at a difmal treatife rouze and ftir,
As life were in'c. s I have fupt full with horrors j
Direnels,
3 What <wtjhall fay we have, and what ive owe : ] i. e. pro-
perty and allegiance.
4 lVtrt they not forc'd iiuitb tbofc - ] Forced, for re-inforc'd.
Mr Pope.
5 - / bavt fupt full ivitb horrors ; ] The Oxford Editor
altars this to,
- - -forfeited iitb horrors ;
And fo, for the fake of a politer phrafe, has made the fpeaker
talk abfurdly. For the thing we furfeit of, we behold with un-
eafinefs
The Tragedy of M ACBET H. 421
Direnefs, familiar to my flaught'rous thoughts.
Cannot once ftart me. Wherefore was that Cry ?
Sey. The Queen, my Lord, is dead.
Macb. She mould have dy'd hereafter ;
There would have been a time for fuch a word.
To morrow, and to morrow, and to morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the laft fyllable of recorded time ;
And all our yefterdays have lighted fools
6 The way to dusky death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking fhadow, a poor Player,
That ftruts and frets his hour upon the Stage,
And then is heard no more ! It is a Tale,
Told by an ideot, full of found and fury,
Signifying nothing !
Enter a McJJenger.
Thou com'ft to ufe thy tongue : thy (lory quickly.
Afef. My gracious lord,
I mould report That which, I fay, I law,
But know not how to do*t.
Macb. Well, fay it, Sir.
Mef. As I did (land my watch upon the hill,
I look'd toward Eirnam^ and anon, methought,
The Wood began to move.
Macb. Liar, and (lave ! \Striking bim.
Mef. Let me endure your wrath, if 't be not ib :
Within this three mile may you fee it coming ;
I fay, a moving grove.
Macb. If thou fpeak'ft falfe,
Upon the next tree flialt chou hang alive,
'Till famine cling thec : If thy fpeech be Iboth,
eafinefs and abhorrence. But the fpeaker fays, the things he fuf>t
full of , were grown familiar ta bim, and he viewed them without
emotion.
6 f ht Tuay te DUSTY dtath. - \ We fhonld rsrtd LIT.- c v, a? ap-
pears from the figurative term liglttd. The Qxfcrd Fd: ft ',
condefce ndrd to approvt of it.
Ee 5 i
422 The Tragedy of MACBETH.
I care not, If thou doft for me as much.
7 I pull in Refolution, and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth. Fear not, 'till Birnam-wW
Do come to Dunfinane, and now a wood
Comes towards Dunfinane. Arm, arm, and out !
If this, which he avouches, does appear,
There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here,
I 'gin to be a weary of the Sun ;
And wifh, the ftate o'th' world were now undone.
Ring the alarum Bell i blow, wind ! come, wrack !
At lead, we'll die with harnefs on our back. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Before DUNSINANE.
Enter Malcolm, Siward, MacdufF, and ibeir Army
with Boughs.
Mai. T^T O W, near enough : your leavy fcreens
i.^1 throw down,
And ftiew like thofe you are. You (worthy uncle)