Reading Help THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath, `
` Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not. `
` Seyton! `
` `
` Enter Seyton. `
` `
` SEYTON. What's your gracious pleasure? `
` MACBETH. What news more? `
` SEYTON. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported. `
` MACBETH. I'll fight, 'til from my bones my flesh be hack'd. `
` Give me my armor. `
` 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 armor. `
` 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 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, `
` 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? Hearst 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 colors. `
` `
` Enter Malcolm, old Seward and his Son, 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 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, `
` 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. `
` 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! `
` 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. `
` `
` Enter Malcolm, old Siward, Macduff, and their Army, with boughs. `
` Drum and colors. `
` `
` 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. `
` SIWARD. Fare you well. `
` Do we but find the tyrant's power 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. `
` Exeunt. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` SCENE VII. `
` Dunsinane. Before the castle. 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. `
`
` Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not. `
` Seyton! `
` `
` Enter Seyton. `
` `
` SEYTON. What's your gracious pleasure? `
` MACBETH. What news more? `
` SEYTON. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported. `
` MACBETH. I'll fight, 'til from my bones my flesh be hack'd. `
` Give me my armor. `
` 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 armor. `
` 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 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, `
` 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? Hearst 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 colors. `
` `
` Enter Malcolm, old Seward and his Son, 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 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, `
` 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. `
` 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! `
` 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. `
` `
` Enter Malcolm, old Siward, Macduff, and their Army, with boughs. `
` Drum and colors. `
` `
` 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. `
` SIWARD. Fare you well. `
` Do we but find the tyrant's power 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. `
` Exeunt. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` SCENE VII. `
` Dunsinane. Before the castle. 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. `
`