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Act 5, Scene 8
Texto del Guión Gráfico
- Despair thy charm, and let the angel whom thou still has served tell thee Macduff was from his mother's womb untimely ripped.
- As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air with keen sword impress as make me bleed. Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; I bear a charmed life, which must not yield to one of woman born.
- Then yied thee, coward, and live to be the show and gaze o' th' time. We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, Painted upon a pole, and underwrit Here may you see the tyrant
- Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, For it hath cowed 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 and break it to our hope. I'll not fight thee.
- 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 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 damned be him that first cries. Hold, Enough!
- I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.
- Some must go off; and yet by these I see so great a day as this is cheaply bought.
- Then he is dead?
- Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt. He only lived but till he was a man, the which no sooner had his powers confirmed in the unshrinking station where he fought, but like a man he died.
- Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
- Had he his hurts before?
- Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow must not be measured by his worth, for than it hath no end.
- Ay, on the front.
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