Cath. Who knows, if Donalbain be with his brother?

Len. For certain, fir, he is not: I have a file
Of all the gentry; there is Siward's son,
And many unrough youths, that even now
Proteft their first of manhood.

Ment.

What does the tyrant?

Cath. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies : Some fay, he's mad; others, that leffer hate him,

Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,

He cannot buckle his diftemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.

Now does he feel

Ang.
His fecret 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.

Ment.

Who then shall blame

His pester'd senses to recoil, and start,

When all that is within him does condemn

Itself, for being there?

Cath.

Well, march we on,

To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd:

Meet we the medecin 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 we our march towards Birnam. [Exeunt, marching,

SCENE III.

Dunfinane. A Room in the Castle,

Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants.

Mach. Bring me no more reports; let them fly all :
Till Birnam wood remove to Dunfinane,

I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
All mortal confequents, pronounc'd me thus:
Fear not, Macbeth; no man, that's born of woman,
Shall e'er have power on thee.Then fly, false thanes,
And mingle with the English epicures :

The mind I fway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never fagg with doubt, nor shake with fear.

Enter a Servant,

The devil damn thee black, thou cream'd-fac'd loon!
Where got'st thou that goose look ?

Ser. There is ten thousand

Macb.

Ser.

Geefe, villain?

Soldiers, fir.

Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liver'd boy. What foldiers, patch?
Death of thy foul! those linen cheeks of thine

Are counsellors to fear. What foldiers, whey-face ?
Ser. The English force, so please you.

Macb. Take thy face hence.-Seyton!-I am fick at heart,

When I behold-Seyton, I fay!-This push
Will cheer me ever, or diffeat me now.
I have liv'd long enough: my way of life
Is fall'n into the fear, the yellow leaf:

And

And that which fhould 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.

Sey. What is your gracious pleasure ?

Macb.

What news more?

Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported. Macb. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.Give me my armour.

Sey.

'Tis not needed yet.

Macb. I'll put it on.

Send out more horfes, fkirr the country round;

Hang thofe that talk of fear.-Give me mine armour.— How does your patient, doctor?

Do&t.

Not fo fick, my lord,

As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,

That keep her from her rest.

Cure her of that:

Macb.
Canft thou not minister to a mind difeas'd;
Pluck from the memory a rooted forrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with fome sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuff'd bofom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?

Do&t.

Muft minifter to himself.

Therein the patient

Macb. Throw phyfick to the dogs, I'll none of it.Come, put mine armour on; give me my ftaff:Seyton, send out.-Doctor, the thanes fly from me :— Come, fir, despatch;-If thou could'st, doctor, cast

The

The water of my land, find her disease,

And purge it to a found and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,

That should applaud again.-Pull't off, I fay.-
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug,

Would scour these English hence?—Hearest thou of them?
Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
Makes us hear fomething.

Macb.

Bring it after me.

I will not be afraid of death and bane,

Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

[Exit.

Doct. Were I from Dunfinane away and clear,

Profit again should hardly draw me here.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Country near Dunfinane: A Wood in view.

Enter, with Drum and Colours, MALCOLM, old SIWARD and his Son, MACDUFF, MENTETH, CATHNESS, ANGUS, LENOX, Rosse, and Soldiers, marching.

Mal. Coufins, I hope, the days are near at hand, That chambers will be fafe.

Ment.

We doubt it nothing.

The wood of Birnam,

Siw. What wood is this before us?
Ment.

Mal. Let every soldier hew him down a bough,
And bear't before him; thereby fhall we shadow
The numbers of our hoft, and make discovery
Err in report of us.

Siw. We learn no other, but the confident tyrant
Keeps ftill in Dunfinane, and will endure
Our fetting down before't.

Mal.

Mal.

'Tis his main hope: For where there is advantage to be given,

Both more and lefs have given him the revolt;

And none serve with him but constrained things,
Whose hearts are abfent too.

Macd.

Let our juft cenfures

Attend the true event, and put we on

Industrious foldiership.

Si-w.

The time approaches,

That will with due decision make us know
What we shall fay we have, and what we owe.
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate;
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate:

Towards which, advance the war.

SCENE V.

[Exeunt, marching.

Dunfinane. Within the Caftle.

Enter, with Drums and Colours, MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers.

Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
The cry is ftill, They come: Our castle's strength
Will laugh a fiege to scorn: here let them lie,
Till famine, and the ague, eat them up:

Were they not 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 noife?

[A cry within, of women.

Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears: The time has been, my fenfes would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir

As