Scene VIII

[Another part of the field.]

Enter Macbeth.

MACBETH:

Why should I play the Roman fool and die
On mine own sword? Whiles I see lives, the gashes
Do better upon them.

Enter Macduff.

MACBETH:

Why should I play the Roman fool and die
On my own sword? While I see living creatures, the gashes
Look better on them.

MACDUFF:

Turn, hell hound, turn!

MACDUFF:

Turn, hell-hound, turn!

MACBETH:

Of all men else I have avoided thee.(5)
But get thee back; my soul is too much charged
With blood of thine already.

MACBETH:

Of all men else I have avoided you.
But get back. My soul is too much charged
With blood of yours already.

MACDUFF:

I have no words:
My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!(10)

Fight: Alarum.

MACDUFF:

I have no words,
My voice is in my sword. You bloodier villain
Than terms can describe you!

MACBETH:

Thou losest labor.
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield(15)
To one of woman born.

MACBETH:

You’re wasting your efforts.
You may as easily slice the air that cannot be cut
With your keen sword as make me bleed.
Let your blade fall on weaker heads;
I have a charmed life, which must not yield
To one given birth to by a woman.

MACDUFF:

Despair thy charm,
And let the angel whom thou still hast served
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.(20)

MACDUFF:

Lose hope of your charm;
And let the genius whom you still have served
Tell you, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Delivered by caesarean section.

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,
That palter with us in a double sense,
That keep the word of promise to our ear,(25)
And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee.

MACBETH:

Curse you for telling me that,
Because it has intimidated my better part of man!
And let these deceitful fiends be believed no more,
That trick us with double meanings,
That keep the word of promise to our ears,
And break it to our hopes! I will not fight with you.

MACDUFF:

Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o’ the time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit,(30)
“Here may you see the tyrant.”

MACDUFF:

Then surrender, you coward,
And live to be the center of attention of the times.
We'll exhibit you, as our rarer monsters are,
With a painted ad on a pole, and the words,
"Here may you see the tyrant."

MACBETH:

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,(35)
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 damn'd be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”

MACBETH:

I will not surrender,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited with the crowd’s curse.
Although Birnam wood did come to Dunsinane,
And you against me, being given birth to by a woman,
I will still fight to the end. I throw my warlike shield
Before my body. Lay on, Macduff;
And let him be damned that first cries, "Stop, enough!"

Exeunt fighting. Alarums.

Enter fighting, and Macbeth slain. Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colors, Malcolm, Siward, Ross, [the other] Thanes, and Soldiers.

MALCOLM:

I would the friends we miss were safe arrived.(40)

MALCOLM:

I wish the friends we miss were safely here.

SIWARD:

Some must go off: and yet, by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

SIWARD:

Some must go off. And yet, by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

MALCOLM:

Macduff is missing, and your noble son.

MALCOLM:

Macduff is missing and your noble son.

ROSS:

Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
He only lived but till he was a man;(45)
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.

ROSS:

Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt.
He only lived until he was a man,
Which, no sooner had his skills been confirmed
In the brave station where he fought,
He died like a man.

SIWARD:

Then he is dead?

SIWARD:

Then he is dead?

ROSS:

Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow(50)
Must not be measured by his worth, for then
It hath no end.

ROSS:

Yes, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow
Must not be measured by his worth, because then
It will have no end.

SIWARD:

Had he his hurts before?

SIWARD:

Was he wounded on the front of his body?

ROSS:

Ay, on the front.

ROSS:

Yes, on the front.

SIWARD:

Why then, God's soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,(55)
I would not wish them to a fairer death.
And so his knell is knoll'd.

SIWARD:

Why then, he was God's soldier!
If I had as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death.
And, so his death bell is rung.

MALCOLM:

He's worth more sorrow,
And that I'll spend for him.

MALCOLM:

He's worth more sorrow,
And that I'll do for him.

SIWARD:

He's worth no more:(60)
They say he parted well and paid his score:
And so God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.

SIWARD:

He's worth no more.
They say he parted well and paid his score.
And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.

[Re]-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head.

MACDUFF:

Hail, King! for so thou art. Behold where stands
The usurper's cursed head. The time is free.
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl(65)
That speak my salutation in their minds,
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine:
Hail, King of Scotland!

MACDUFF:

Hail, king, for so you are. Behold, here is
The usurper's cursed head. We are free.
I see you surrounded by the finest nobles in the kingdom
That speak my greetings by their thoughts,
Whose voices I want to hear loudly with mine:
Hail, King of Scotland!

ALL:

Hail, King of Scotland!

ALL:

Hail, King of Scotland!

Flourish.

MALCOLM:

We shall not spend a large expense of time(70)
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,
Henceforth be Earls, the first that ever Scotland
In such an honor named. What's more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,(75)
As calling home our exiled friends abroad
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny,
Producing forth the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen,
Who, as ’tis thought, by self and violent hands(80)
Took off her life; this, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace
We will perform in measure, time, and place,
So thanks to all at once and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.(85)

MALCOLM:

We shall not waste time
Before we make an accounting of your separate loves,
And make us even with you. My barons and relatives,
From this point forward you are earls, the first that Scotland ever
Named to such an honor. What else is left to do,
What new changes we will make, such
As calling our friends exiled abroad home,
That fled the clutches of watchful tyranny.
Producing the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,
Who, as it is thought, by her own violent hands
Took off her life, this, and whatever else is needed
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
We will perform in measure, time, and place.
So, thanks to all at once, and to each one,
We invite you to see us crowned at Scone.

Flourish. Exeunt.