'Tis his maine hope:
For where there is aduantage to be giuen,
Both more and lesse haue giuen him the Reuolt,
And none serue with him, but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too
Macd.
For where there is aduantage to be giuen,
Both more and lesse haue giuen him the Reuolt,
And none serue with him, but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too
Macd.
shakespeare-macbeth
Bring it after me:
I will not be affraid of Death and Bane,
Till Birnane Forrest come to Dunsinane
Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away, and cleere,
Profit againe should hardly draw me heere.
Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Drum and Colours. Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduffe,
Seywards Sonne,
Menteth, Cathnes, Angus, and Soldiers Marching.
Malc. Cosins, I hope the dayes are neere at hand
That Chambers will be safe
Ment. We doubt it nothing
Seyw. What wood is this before vs?
Ment. The wood of Birnane
Malc. Let euery Souldier hew him downe a Bough,
And bear't before him, thereby shall we shadow
The numbers of our Hoast, and make discouery
Erre in report of vs
Sold. It shall be done
Syw. We learne no other, but the confident Tyrant
Keepes still in Dunsinane, and will indure
Our setting downe befor't
Malc.
'Tis his maine hope:
For where there is aduantage to be giuen,
Both more and lesse haue giuen him the Reuolt,
And none serue with him, but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too
Macd. Let our iust Censures
Attend the true euent, and put we on
Industrious Souldiership
Sey. The time approaches,
That will with due decision make vs know
What we shall say we haue, and what we owe:
Thoughts speculatiue, their vnsure hopes relate,
But certaine issue, stroakes must arbitrate,
Towards which, aduance the warre.
Exeunt. marching
Scena Quinta.
Enter Macbeth, Seyton, & Souldiers, with Drum and Colours.
Macb. Hang out our Banners on the outward walls,
The Cry is still, they come: our Castles strength
Will laugh a Siedge to scorne: Heere let them lye,
Till Famine and the Ague eate them vp:
Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,
We might haue met them darefull, beard to beard,
And beate them backward home. What is that noyse?
A Cry within of Women.
Sey. It is the cry of women, my good Lord
Macb. I haue almost forgot the taste of Feares:
The time ha's beene, my sences would haue cool'd
To heare a Night-shrieke, and my Fell of haire
Would at a dismall Treatise rowze, and stirre
As life were in't. I haue supt full with horrors,
Direnesse familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
Cannot once start me. Wherefore was that cry?
Sey.
I will not be affraid of Death and Bane,
Till Birnane Forrest come to Dunsinane
Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away, and cleere,
Profit againe should hardly draw me heere.
Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Drum and Colours. Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduffe,
Seywards Sonne,
Menteth, Cathnes, Angus, and Soldiers Marching.
Malc. Cosins, I hope the dayes are neere at hand
That Chambers will be safe
Ment. We doubt it nothing
Seyw. What wood is this before vs?
Ment. The wood of Birnane
Malc. Let euery Souldier hew him downe a Bough,
And bear't before him, thereby shall we shadow
The numbers of our Hoast, and make discouery
Erre in report of vs
Sold. It shall be done
Syw. We learne no other, but the confident Tyrant
Keepes still in Dunsinane, and will indure
Our setting downe befor't
Malc.
'Tis his maine hope:
For where there is aduantage to be giuen,
Both more and lesse haue giuen him the Reuolt,
And none serue with him, but constrained things,
Whose hearts are absent too
Macd. Let our iust Censures
Attend the true euent, and put we on
Industrious Souldiership
Sey. The time approaches,
That will with due decision make vs know
What we shall say we haue, and what we owe:
Thoughts speculatiue, their vnsure hopes relate,
But certaine issue, stroakes must arbitrate,
Towards which, aduance the warre.
Exeunt. marching
Scena Quinta.
Enter Macbeth, Seyton, & Souldiers, with Drum and Colours.
Macb. Hang out our Banners on the outward walls,
The Cry is still, they come: our Castles strength
Will laugh a Siedge to scorne: Heere let them lye,
Till Famine and the Ague eate them vp:
Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,
We might haue met them darefull, beard to beard,
And beate them backward home. What is that noyse?
A Cry within of Women.
Sey. It is the cry of women, my good Lord
Macb. I haue almost forgot the taste of Feares:
The time ha's beene, my sences would haue cool'd
To heare a Night-shrieke, and my Fell of haire
Would at a dismall Treatise rowze, and stirre
As life were in't. I haue supt full with horrors,
Direnesse familiar to my slaughterous thoughts
Cannot once start me. Wherefore was that cry?
Sey.
