ACT 5
[Enter MACBETH, SEYTON, and Soldiers, with drum and colours]
MACBETH
Hang out our banners on the outward walls;
Hang flags upon our castle’s outer walls.
The cry is still 'They come:' our castle's strength
I’m hearing cries ‘They’re coming’; our strong castle
Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie
Will laugh this siege off. Let them lie outside
Till famine and the ague eat them up:
Till famine and disease has killed them all.
Were they not forced with those that should be ours,
If they weren’t reinforced with troops that left us,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
We might have boldly met them face-to-face
And beat them backward home.
And beat them back to home.
[A cry of women within]
What is that noise?
What is that noise?
SEYTON
It is the cry of women, my good lord.
It was a woman crying out, my lord.
[Exit]
MACBETH
I have almost forgot the taste of fears;
I have almost forgotten what fear tastes like;
The time has been, my senses would have cooled
There was a time when I would go all cold
To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair
When hearing shrieks at night, and all my hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
Would stand on end on hearing such a sound,
As life were in't: I have supped full with horrors;
As though it were alive. I’ve seen such horror,
Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
That gruesomeness caused by my thoughts of bloodshed
Cannot once start me.
Don’t startle me.
[Re-enter SEYTON]
Wherefore was that cry?
Where did that cry come from?
SEYTON
The queen, my lord, is dead.
The queen, my lord, is dead.
MACBETH
She should have died hereafter;
She would have died one day.
There would have been a time for such a word.
There’ll always be a day to hear that news.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Tomorrow or the next day or the next,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
Each day creeps slowly by, from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
Until we reach the very end of time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
Where every day that’s passed is lit with candles
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
That light the way to death. Put out this candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
Life’s just a mirage, where a lousy actor
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
Will strut and fret his time upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
But then is heard no more of. It’s a story
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Told by an idiot, full of sound and anger
Signifying nothing.
That has no meaning.
[Enter a Messenger]
Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story quickly.
You’re here to bring me news: give me the latest.
MESSENGER
Gracious my lord,
My gracious lord,
I should report that which I say I saw,
I must report to you what I have seen,
But know not how to do it.
But don’t know how to do it.
MACBETH
Well, say, sir.
Well, just tell me.
MESSENGER
As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
As I stood on my watch upon the hill,
I looked toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
I looked toward the woods at Birnam, then thought
The wood began to move.
The wood began to move.
MACBETH
Liar and slave!
Liar and slave!
MESSENGER
Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:
If it’s not true, then I’ll endure your anger:
Within this three mile may you see it coming;
Less than three miles from here you’ll see it coming;
I say, a moving grove.
I say, a moving forest.
MACBETH
If thou speak'st false,
If you’re lying,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
I’ll hang you up alive upon a tree,
Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,
until you’ve starved to death; but if it’s true,
I care not if thou dost for me as much.
I don’t care if you do the same to me.
I pull in resolution, and begin
I’m cancelling my plan, for I am starting
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend
To doubt the vagueness of the witches’ message
That lies like truth: 'Fear not, till Birnam wood
That twists the truth. “Don’t fear, till Birnam Wood
Do come to Dunsinane:' and now a wood
Has come to Dunsinane.” And now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!
Has come to Dunsinane. Get armed, and at them!
If this which he avouches does appear,
If what they prophesise is coming true,
There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.
I cannot run, and staying here won’t do.
I gin to be aweary of the sun,
I’m starting feeling tired of my life
And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.
And hope the world will tumble into strife.
Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! Come, wrack!
Ring the alarm! Blow, wind, and cause a rattle!
At least we'll die with harness on our back.
At least we’ll die armed, ready for the battle.
[Exeunt]
