Macbeth v macduff
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There is ten thousand—Soldiers, sir.
I’ll fight until they hack the flesh off my bones. Give me my armor.
Marching to Birnum Wood
They have tied me to a stake. I cannot fly, But, bearlike, I must fight the course. What’s he That was not born of woman? Such a oneAm I to fear, or none.
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield,To one of woman born.
Despair thy charm;And let the angel whom thou still hast servedTell thee, Macduff was from his mother's wombUntimely ripped.
I see thee compassed with thy kingdom’s pearl, That speak my salutation it their minds, Whose voices I desire aloud with mine. Hail, King of Scotland!
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