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From Macbeth, Act. V, Scene 7. Slain by Macduff, Dec. 5, 1056. Enter M ACDUFF.
Macduff: Turn, hell-hound, turn! | |
| Macbeth: Of all men else I have avoided thee: | |
| But get thee back; my soul is too much charged | |
| With blood of thine already. | |
| Macduff: I have no words: | 5 |
| My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain | |
| Than terms can give thee out! [They fight. | |
| Macbeth: Thou losest labour: | |
| As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air | |
| With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed: | 10 |
| Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; | |
| I bear a charmed life, which must not yield | |
| To one of woman born. | |
| Macduff: Despair thy charm: | |
| And let the angel whom thou still hast served | 15 |
| Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s womb | |
| Untimely ripp’d. | |
| 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, | 20 |
| That palter with us in a double sense; | |
| That keep the word of promise to our ear, | |
| And break it to our hope. I’ll not fight with thee. | |
| Macduff: Then yield thee, coward, | |
| And live to be the show and gaze o’ the time: | 25 |
| We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, | |
| Painted upon a pole, and underwrit, | |
| ‘Here may you see the tyrant.’ | |
| Macbeth: I will not yield, | |
| To kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet, | 30 |
| And to be baited with the rabble’s curse. | |
| Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, | |
| 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, | 35 |
| And damn’d be him that first cries ‘Hold, enough!’ [Exeunt, fighting. Alarums. | |
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