Study Guide

Macbeth

by William Shakespeare

Macbeth eText - Act V

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Act V

Scene I

Original Text Modern Translation

[Dunsinane. Anteroom 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?
DOCTOR:
I have watched two nights with you, but I 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(5)
it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this
while in a most fast sleep.
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 out paper, fold it, write upon it, read it,
afterwards seal it, and again return to bed. But all this
she did while she was fast asleep.
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,(10)
what, at any time, have you heard her say?
DOCTOR:
A great disturbance in nature, to receive at once the
benefit of sleep, and do things as if awake. 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.
GENTLEWOMAN:
That, sir, which I will not report about her.
DOCTOR:
You may to me, and ’tis most meet you should.
DOCTOR:
You may to me, and it is most proper you should.
GENTLEWOMAN:
Neither to you nor any one, having no witness
to confirm my speech.(15)

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.
GENTLEWOMAN:
Neither to you nor any one, having no witness to confirm my
speech. Look you, here she comes!

This is her very disguise, and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe
her; stand close.

DOCTOR:
How came she by that light?
DOCTOR:
Where did she get that light?
GENTLEWOMAN:
Why, it stood by her. She has light by her
continually; ’tis her command.(20)
GENTLEWOMAN:
Why, it stood by her. She has light by her continually; it is her
command.
DOCTOR:
You see, her eyes are open.
DOCTOR:
You see, her eyes are open.
GENTLEWOMAN:
Ay, but their sense is shut.
GENTLEWOMAN:
Yes, only she doesn’t see anything.
DOCTOR:
What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her
hands.
DOCTOR:
What’s she doing now? Look how she rubs her hands.
GENTLEWOMAN:
It is an accustomed action with her, to seem(25)
thus washing her hands. I have known her continue in
this a quarter of an hour.
GENTLEWOMAN:
She’s accustomed to it, to seem to washing her
hands in this way. I have known her continue in this way for a quarter of an hour.
LADY MACBETH:
Yet here's a spot.
LADY MACBETH:
Still here's a spot.
DOCTOR:
Hark, she speaks! I will set down what comes from
her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.(30)
DOCTOR:
Listen, she speaks. I will set down what she says, 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(35)
him?
LADY MACBETH:
Out, damned spot! Out, I say! One; two; why, then it is
time to do it. Hell is murky! For shame, my lord, for shame! 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?
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(40)
starting.
LADY MACBETH:
The Baron of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What,
will these hands never be clean? No more of that, my lord, no
more of that. You mar all with this starting.
DOCTOR:
Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.
DOCTOR:
O no! 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.
GENTLEWOMAN:
She has spoken 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(45)
of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh,
oh!
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.
DOCTOR:
What a sigh that is! The heart is sorely perplexed.
GENTLEWOMAN:
I would not have such a heart in my bosom
for the dignity of the whole body.(50)
GENTLEWOMAN:
I don’t wish to have such a heart in my bosom for the
dignity of the whole body.
DOCTOR:
Well, well, well—
DOCTOR:
Well, well, well,
GENTLEWOMAN:
Pray God it be, sir.
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.(55)
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 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.
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 his grave.
DOCTOR:
Even so?
DOCTOR:
Even so?
LADY MACBETH:
To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate.(60)
Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's
done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.
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 Lady.

DOCTOR:
Will she go now to bed?
DOCTOR:
Will she go now to bed?
GENTLEWOMAN:
Directly.
GENTLEWOMAN:
Directly.
DOCTOR:
Foul whisperings are abroad. Unnatural deeds(65)
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.
DOCTOR:
Disgustingly filthy rumors are circulating. Unnatural deeds
Do breed unnatural troubles. Infected minds
Will tell their secrets to their deaf pillows.
She needs the divine more than she needs the physician.
God, God, forgive us all! Look after her.
Take everything from her that she might use to harm herself,
And still keep your eyes on her. So, good-night.
She has stupefied my mind, and amazed my sight.
I think, but dare not speak.
GENTLEWOMAN:
Good night, good doctor.
GENTLEWOMAN:
Good-night, good doctor.

Exeunt.

Scene II

Original Text Modern Translation

[The country near Dunsinane.]

Drum and colors. 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.(5)
MENTEITH:
The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them, because their dear causes
Would excite a dead man
To the flowing of blood and the grim alarm.
ANGUS:
Near Birnam Wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
ANGUS:
We’ll meet them near Birnam wood
They are coming that way.
CAITHNESS:
Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
CAITHNESS:
Does any one know 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(10)
And many unrough youths, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.
LENNOX:
For certain, sir, he isn’t. I have a list
Of all the gentry. There is Siward's son
And many youths without beards which now
Affirm they are beginning manhood.
MENTEITH:
What does the tyrant?
MENTEITH:
What is the tyrant doing?
CAITHNESS:
Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies.
Some say he's mad; others, that lesser hate him,(15)
Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.
CAITHNESS:
He strongly fortifies great Dunsinane.
Some say he's crazy; others, that hate him less,
Call it valiant fury. But, for certain,
He cannot contained his sick government
Through control.
ANGUS:
Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands,(20)
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.(25)
ANGUS:
Now he feels
His secret murders sticking on his hands.
Now the revolts in every minute reproaches his breach of faith.
Those he commands move only because it’s a command,
Not because they love him. Now he feels 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?
MENTEITH:
Who, then, shall blame him when
His own vexed senses begin to recoil and attack,
When all that is within him revolts against him?
CAITHNESS:
Well, march we on,(30)
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.
CAITHNESS:
Well, we march on,
To give obedience where it is truly owed.
We give out the medicine for the sickly commonwealth,
And with him we pour, into 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
LENNOX:
Or so much as it needs,
To revive the flower of royalty and drown the weeds.
We march towards Birnam.

Exeunt marching.

Scene III

Original Text Modern Translation

[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:(5)
“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.(10)

Enter a Servant.

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!
Where got'st thou that goose look?
MACBETH:
Don’t bring me any more reports. To hell with them.
I won’t be afraid
Until Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane. What about the boy Malcolm?
Didn’t a woman give birth to him? The spirits that know
All mortal consequences have told me in this way,
"Fear not, Macbeth. No man that hasn’t been given birth to by a woman
Shall ever have power upon you." Then fly, false barons,
And mingle with the English gluttons.
The mind I think with and the courage I have
Shall never sag with doubt or shake with fear.

The devil damn you black, you cream-faced loon!
Where did you get that cowardly look?

SERVANT:
There is ten thousand—
SERVANT:
There is ten thousand.
MACBETH:
Geese, villain?
MACBETH:
Geese, villain?
SERVANT:
Soldiers, sir.(15)
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 counselors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
MACBETH:
Go prick your face and hide your fear in a red face,
You lily-livered boy. What soldiers, servant?
Death of your soul! Those linen cheeks of your
Are counselors to fear. What soldiers, milk-face?
SERVANT:
The English force, so please you.(20)
SERVANT:
The English force, so please you.
MACBETH:
Take thy face hence.
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(25)
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf,
And that which should accompany old age,
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath,(30)
Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not.
Seyton!
MACBETH:
Take your face out of here.

Seyton! I am sick at heart,
When I behold Seyton, I say!- This attack
Will give me the throne forever or unseat me now.
I have lived long enough. My way of life
Is fallen into the dry, withered yellow leaf,
And the things which should accompany old age,
Honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I think I’ll have, but, instead of them, I’ll have
Curses, not loud, only deep, mouth-honor, breath,
Which the poor heart would gladly deny, and dare not.
Seyton!

Enter Seyton.

SEYTON:
What's your gracious pleasure?
SEYTON:
What's your gracious pleasure?
MACBETH:
What news more?
MACBETH:
What other news?
SEYTON:
All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.(35)
SEYTON:
All is confirmed, my lord, which was reported.
MACBETH:
I'll fight, ’til from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
Give me my armor.
MACBETH:
I'll fight until my flesh is hacked from my bones.
Give me my amour.
SEYTON:
’Tis not needed yet.
SEYTON:
It is not needed yet.
MACBETH:
I'll put it on.
Send out more horses, skirr the country round,(40)
Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armor.
How does your patient, doctor?
MACBETH:
I'll put it on.
Send out more horses, scour the country all around.
Hang those that talk of fear. Give me my amour.
How is your patient, doctor?
DOCTOR:
Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.(45)
DOCTOR:
Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with a number of illusions,
That keep her from resting.
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(50)
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?
MACBETH:
Cure her of that.
Can’t you minister to a diseased mind?
Pluck a rooted sorrow from the memory?
Wipe out the written troubles of the brain,
And cleanse the burdened heart of that dangerous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart with some sweet antidote
Which will make her oblivious to all those things?
DOCTOR:
Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
DOCTOR:
That’s where the patient
Must minister to himself.
MACBETH:
Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it.(55)
Come, put mine armor 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,(60)
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?
MACBETH:
Throw medicine to the dogs, I'll have none of it.
Come, put my amour on. Give me my staff.
Seyton, send out. Doctor, the Barons desert me.
Come, sir, get going. If you could, doctor, analyze
The urine of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a sound and former health,
I would praise you to the very echo,
That should praise again. You can do it, I say.
What rhubarb, senna, or other purgative drugs,
Would do keep these English here healthy? Have you heard of them?
DOCTOR:
Ay, my good lord: your royal preparation(65)
Makes us hear something.
DOCTOR:
Yes, 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.
MACBETH:
Bring it after me.
I will not be afraid of death and ruin,
Until Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
DOCTOR:
Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit(70)
again should hardly draw me here.
DOCTOR:
If I were away and clear from Dunsinane.
Money would hardly draw me here again.

Exeunt.

Scene IV

Original Text Modern Translation

[Country near Birnam Wood.]

Drum and colors. Enter Malcolm, Siward, Macduff, Siward's son, Menteith, Caithness, Angus, and Soldiers marching.

MALCOLM:
Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
That chambers will be safe.
MALCOLM:
Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
That our homes will be safe.
MENTEITH:
We doubt it nothing.
MENTEITH:
We don’t doubt it.
SIWARD:
What wood is this before us?
SIWARD:
What wood is this before us?
MENTEITH:
The Wood of Birnam.(5)
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.
MALCOLM:
Let every soldier cut down a bough,
And hold it in front of him. That way, we shall hide
The numbers of our host and make military intelligence
Make an error in reporting our strength.
SOLDIERS:
It shall be done.(10)
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.
SIWARD:
We can only learn that the confident tyrant
Still stays in Dunsinane, and will put up with
Our settling down before it.
MALCOLM:
’Tis his main hope;
For where there is advantage to be given,(15)
Both more and less have given him the revolt,
And none serve with him but constrained things
Whose hearts are absent too.
MALCOLM:
It is his only hope.
Both aristocrats and commoners have
Revolted against him.
And no one will serve with him with loyalty,
Who do not have hearts.
MACDUFF:
Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on(20)
Industrious soldiership.
MACDUFF:
Let a true evaluation of the military situation
Wait until we have won the battle.
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,(25)
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate;
Towards which, advance the war.
SIWARD:
The time approaches.
That will make us know, with true decision,
What we shall say we have and what we owe.
Speculation only tells about their unsure hopes;
Only a certain outcome must settle
Which direction the war will take.

Exeunt Marching.

Scene V

Original Text Modern Translation

[Dunsinane. Within the castle.]

Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers, with drum and colors.

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,(5)
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home.

A cry within of women.

What is that noise?
MACBETH:
Hang our banners out on the outward walls.
The cry is still, "They come." Our castle's strength
Will make a mockery of a siege. Here let them lie
Until famine and the plague eat them up.
If they were not reinforced by those troops that should be ours,
We might have met them boldly, beard to beard,
And beat them backward where they came from.

What’s that noise?

SEYTON:
It is the cry of women, my good lord.
SEYTON:
It is the cry of women, my good lord.
MACBETH:
I have almost forgot the taste of fears:(10)
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,(15)
Cannot once start me.
Wherefore was that cry?
MACBETH:
I have almost forgotten the taste of fears.
There was a time when my senses would have cooled
To hear a night-shriek, and my head of hair
Would rouse and stir, at a dismal treatise,
As if it were alive. I have had dinner with horrors;
Horror, familiar to my murderous thoughts,
Cannot once startle me.

Why was that cry?

SEYTON:
The Queen, my lord, is dead.
SEYTON:
The queen, my lord, is dead.
MACBETH:
She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.(20)
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!(25)
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.(30)

Enter a Messenger.

Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
MACBETH:
She should have died later.
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this trivial pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time.
And all our yesterdays have lighted
The way to dusty death for fools. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's only a walking shadow; a bad actor,
That struts and worries about his hour onstage,
And then is not heard from again. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

You came to use your tongue. Tell your story quickly.

MESSENGER:
Gracious my lord,
I should report that which I say I saw,
But know not how to do it.
MESSENGER:
Gracious my lord,
I would report what I say I saw,
Only I don’t know how to do it.
MACBETH:
Well, say, sir.(35)
MACBETH:
Well, just say it, sir.
MESSENGER:
As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The Wood began to move.
MESSENGER:
As I was standing my watch upon the hill,
I looked toward Birnam, and in a minute, I thought,
The wood began to move.
MACBETH:
Liar and slave!
MACBETH:
Liar, and slave!
MESSENGER:
Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so.(40)
Within this three mile may you see it coming;
I say, a moving grove.
MESSENGER:
Let me suffer your anger if it isn’t so.
Within these three miles, you can 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,(45)
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(50)
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.(55)
Ring the alarum bell! Blow, wind! Come, wrack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back.
MACBETH:
If you speak falsely,
You shall hang alive on the next tree,
Until you die from hunger. If your speech is true,
I don’t care if you do as much for me.
I reign in my resolution and begin
To doubt the lie of the fiend
That lies the same as telling the truth. "Fear not, until Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane;" and now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and attack!
If this which he swears does appear,
There is no flying from here or wasting time here.
I begin to be weary of the sun,
And I wish the order the world were now destroyed.
Ring the alarms bell! Blow, wind! come, ruin!
At least we'll die with armor on our back.

Exeunt.

Scene VI

Original Text Modern Translation

[Dunsinane. Before the castle.]

Drum and colors. Enter Malcolm, Siward, 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.
MALCOLM:
Now that we’re near enough, throw the branch down,
And look like the men you are. You, worthy uncle,
Shall lead our first battle with my cousin,
Your right-noble son, Worthy Macduff and we
Shall take upon us what ever is left to do, According to our order.
SIWARD:
Fare you well.(5)
Do we but find the tyrant's power tonight,
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
SIWARD:
Fare you well.
If we only find the tyrant's forces 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.(10)
MACDUFF:
Blow all our trumpets. Blow them all,
Those noisy announcers of blood and death.

Exeunt. Alarums continued.

Scene VII

Original Text Modern Translation

[Another part of the field.]

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.
MACBETH:
They have nailed me down. I cannot fly,
But, like a bear, I must fight till the end. Who is he
That was not born of woman? Such a one
I am to fear, not anyone else.

Enter young Siward.

YOUNG SIWARD:
What is thy name?(5)
YOUNG SIWARD:
What is your name?
MACBETH:
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
MACBETH:
You’ll be afraid to hear it.
YOUNG SIWARD:
No, though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
Than any is in hell.
YOUNG SIWARD:
No! Though you call yourself a hotter name
Than any other there is in hell.
MACBETH:
My name's Macbeth.
MACBETH:
My name's Macbeth.
YOUNG SIWARD:
The devil himself could not pronounce a title(10)
More hateful to mine ear.
YOUNG SIWARD:
The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to my ear.
MACBETH:
No, nor more fearful.
MACBETH:
No, nor more fearful.
YOUNG SIWARD:
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
YOUNG SIWARD:
You lie, abhorred tyrant; with my sword
I'll prove the lie you speak.

[They] fight, and young Siward slain.

MACBETH:
Thou wast born of woman.(15)
But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born.
MACBETH:
You were given birth by a woman.
But I smile at swords, laugh scornfully at weapons,
Brandished by man that's been given birth by a woman.

Exit.

Alarums. Enter Macduff.

MACDUFF:
That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!
If thou beest slain and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.(20)
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(25)
Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not.
MACDUFF:
The noise is that way. Tyrant, show your face!
If you are already slain and not by me,
My wife and children's ghosts will still haunt me.
I cannot strike at wretched Irish foot soldiers, whose arms
Are hired to bear their lances; either I kill you, Macbeth,
Or else I’ll put my sword, with an undamaged edge,
Back into its sheath, unused. You should be there.
By this great clatter, someone of the greatest note
Seems to be reported. Let me find him, fortune!
And I will not beg for more.

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.
SIWARD:
This way, my lord; the castle's gently surrounded.
The tyrant's people fight on both sides;
The noble barons fight bravely in the war;
The day almost professes itself to be yours,
And little is to do.
MALCOLM:
We have met with foes
That strike beside us.
MALCOLM:
We have met with foes
That fight beside us.
SIWARD:
Enter, sir, the castle.
SIWARD:
Enter the castle, sir.

Exeunt. Alarum.

Scene VIII

Original Text Modern Translation

[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.

MACBETH:
Why should I play the Roman fool and die
On my own sword? While I see living creatures, the gashes
Look better on them.
MACDUFF:
Turn, hell hound, turn!
MACDUFF:
Turn, hell-hound, turn!
MACBETH:
Of all men else I have avoided thee.(5)
But get thee back; my soul is too much charged
With blood of thine already.
MACBETH:
Of all men else I have avoided you.
But get back. My soul is too much charged
With blood of yours already.
MACDUFF:
I have no words:
My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!(10)

Fight: Alarum.

MACDUFF:
I have no words,
My voice is in my sword. You bloodier villain
Than terms can describe you!
MACBETH:
Thou losest labor.
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(15)
To one of woman born.
MACBETH:
You’re wasting your efforts.
You may as easily slice the air that cannot be cut
With your keen sword as make me bleed.
Let your blade fall on weaker heads;
I have a charmed life, which must not yield
To one given birth to by a woman.
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.(20)
MACDUFF:
Lose hope of your charm;
And let the genius whom you still have served
Tell you, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Delivered by caesarean section.
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,(25)
And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee.
MACBETH:
Curse you for telling me that,
Because it has intimidated my better part of man!
And let these deceitful fiends be believed no more,
That trick us with double meanings,
That keep the word of promise to our ears,
And break it to our hopes! I will not fight with you.
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,(30)
“Here may you see the tyrant.”
MACDUFF:
Then surrender, you coward,
And live to be the center of attention of the times.
We'll exhibit you, as our rarer monsters are,
With a painted ad on a pole, and the words,
"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,(35)
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!”
MACBETH:
I will not surrender,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited with the crowd’s curse.
Although Birnam wood did come to Dunsinane,
And you against me, being given birth to by a woman,
I will still fight to the end. I throw my warlike shield
Before my body. Lay on, Macduff;
And let him be damned that first cries, "Stop, enough!"

Exeunt fighting. Alarums.

Enter fighting, and Macbeth slain. Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colors, Malcolm, Siward, Ross, [the other] Thanes, and Soldiers.

MALCOLM:
I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.(40)
MALCOLM:
I wish the friends we miss were safely here.
SIWARD:
Some must go off: and yet, by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
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.
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;(45)
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.
ROSS:
Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt.
He only lived until he was a man,
Which, no sooner had his skills been confirmed
In the brave station where he fought,
He died like a man.
SIWARD:
Then he is dead?
SIWARD:
Then he is dead?
ROSS:
Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow(50)
Must not be measured by his worth, for then
It hath no end.
ROSS:
Yes, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow
Must not be measured by his worth, because then
It will have no end.
SIWARD:
Had he his hurts before?
SIWARD:
Was he wounded on the front of his body?
ROSS:
Ay, on the front.
ROSS:
Yes, on the front.
SIWARD:
Why then, God's soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,(55)
I would not wish them to a fairer death.
And so his knell is knoll'd.
SIWARD:
Why then, he was God's soldier!
If I had as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death.
And, so his death bell is rung.
MALCOLM:
He's worth more sorrow,
And that I'll spend for him.
MALCOLM:
He's worth more sorrow,
And that I'll do for him.
SIWARD:
He's worth no more:(60)
They say he parted well and paid his score:
And so God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.
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(65)
That speak my salutation in their minds,
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine:
Hail, King of Scotland!
MACDUFF:
Hail, king, for so you are. Behold, here is
The usurper's cursed head. We are free.
I see you surrounded by the finest nobles in the kingdom
That speak my greetings by their thoughts,
Whose voices I want to hear loudly with mine:
Hail, King of Scotland!
ALL:
Hail, King of Scotland!
ALL:
Hail, King of Scotland!

Flourish.

MALCOLM:
We shall not spend a large expense of time(70)
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 honor named. What's more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,(75)
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(80)
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.(85)
MALCOLM:
We shall not waste time
Before we make an accounting of your separate loves,
And make us even with you. My barons and relatives,
From this point forward you are earls, the first that Scotland ever
Named to such an honor. What else is left to do,
What new changes we will make, such
As calling our friends exiled abroad home,
That fled the clutches of watchful tyranny.
Producing the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,
Who, as it is thought, by her own violent hands
Took off her life, this, and whatever else is needed
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,
We invite you to see us crowned at Scone.

Flourish. Exeunt.