Macbeth Act 5 Scene 5

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Macbeth Act 5 Scene 5
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  • She should have died hereafter. There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow and tomorrow and 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.Thou com’st to use thy tongue: thy story quickly.
  • Dunsinane. Enter Macbeth, Seyton and Soldier, with drums and colors
  • 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.What is that noise?
  • [he exits]
  • [a cry of women]
  • It is the cry of women, my good lord.
  • I have almost forgot the taste of fears. The time has been my senses would have cooled To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stirAs life were in ’t. I have supped full with horrors.Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts,Cannot once start me.Wherefore was that cry?
  • Gracious my lord,I should report that which I say I saw,But know not how to do ’t.
  • [enter messenger]
  • Well, say, sirLiar and slave!
  • As I did stand my watch upon the hill,I looked toward Birnam, and anon me thought The wood began to move.Let me endure your wrath, if ’t be not so.Within this three mile may you see it coming.I say, a moving grove.
  • If thou speak’st false, Upon the next tree shall 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 beginTo doubt th’ 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 th’ estate o’ th’ world were now undone.—Ring the alarum bell! —Blow wind, come wrack,At least we’ll die with harness on our back.
  • [they exit]
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