« AnteriorContinua »
To. Seyw. The Devil himself could not pronounce a Title More hateful to mine Ear.
Macb. No, nor more fearful.
Yo. Seyw. Thou liest, thou abhorred Tyrant, with my Sword I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
[Fight, and Toung Seyward's flain, Macb. Thou wast born of Woman; But Swords I smile at, Weapons laugh to fcorn, Brandish'd by Man that's of a Woman born. [Exit.
Alarums. Enter Macduff Macd. That way the noise is : Tyrant, thew thy Face, If thou be'st pain, and with no stroke of mine, My Wife and Childrens Ghosts will haunt me ftill: I cannot strike at wretched Kernes, whose arms Are hir'd to bear their Staves; either thou, Macbeth; Or else my Sword with an unbatter'd edge I fheath again undeeded. There thou should'st be By this great clatter, one of greatest note Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune, And more I beg not.
Exit. Alarums. Enter Malcolme and Seyward, Seyw. This way, my Lord, the Castle's gently rendered : The Tyrant's People, on both fides do fight, The noble Thanes do bravely in the War, The day almost it self professes yours, And little is to do.
Mal. We have met with Foes
Macb. Of all Men else I have avoided thee :
Macd, I have no words,
Macb. Thou losest labour;
Macd. Despair thy Charm,
Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tells me fo;
Macd. Then yield thee, Coward,
Macb. I will not yield
[Exeunt fighting. Alarums,
Malcolme, Seyward, Roffe, Thanes, and Soldiers.
Seyw. Some must go off: and yet by these I see,
. Macduff is missing, and your noble Son. .
But like a Man he dy'd.
Seyw. Then he is dead?
Rosse. Ay, and brought off the Field: your cause of sorrow
Seyw. Had he his hurts before?
Mal. He's worth more sorrow,
Seyw. He's worth no more;
Enter Macduff with Macbeth's Head.
(Flourish. Mal. We shall not spend a large expence 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 nam’d: What's more to do Which would be planted newly with the time, As calling home our exild 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 fee uş Crown'd at Scone.
[Flourish. Exeunt omnes.
. Hamlet, Son to the former, and Nephew to the
two Soldiers. Reynoldo, Servant to Polonius. Ghost of Hamlet's Father,
Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, and Mother to Hamlet.