# The Complete Works of William Shakespeare ## Part 116 Book page: https://www.cyberlibrary.org/en/books/the-complete-works-of-william-shakespeare-100/index.md DOCTOR. Foul whisp’rings are abroad. Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. More needs she the divine than the physician.— God, God, forgive us all! Look after her; Remove from her the means of all annoyance, And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night: My mind she has mated, and amaz’d my sight. I think, but dare not speak. GENTLEWOMAN. Good night, good doctor. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. The Country near Dunsinane. Enter, with drum and colours Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox and Soldiers. MENTEITH. The English power is near, led on by Malcolm, His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff. Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm Excite the mortified man. ANGUS. Near Birnam wood Shall we well meet them. That way are they coming. CAITHNESS. Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother? LENNOX. For certain, sir, he is not. I have a file Of all the gentry: there is Siward’s son And many unrough youths, that even now Protest their first of manhood. MENTEITH. What does the tyrant? CAITHNESS. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies. Some say he’s mad; others, that lesser hate him, Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain, He cannot buckle his distemper’d cause Within the belt of rule. ANGUS. Now does he feel His secret murders sticking on his hands; Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach; Those he commands move only in command, Nothing in love: now does he feel his title Hang loose about him, like a giant’s robe Upon a dwarfish thief. MENTEITH. Who, then, shall blame His pester’d senses to recoil and start, When all that is within him does condemn Itself for being there? CAITHNESS. Well, march we on, To give obedience where ’tis truly ow’d: Meet we the med’cine of the sickly weal; And with him pour we, in our country’s purge, Each drop of us. LENNOX. Or so much as it needs To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds. Make we our march towards Birnam. [_Exeunt, marching._] SCENE III. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Enter Macbeth, Doctor and Attendants. MACBETH. Bring me no more reports; let them fly all: Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane I cannot taint with fear. What’s the boy Malcolm? Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know All mortal consequences have pronounc’d me thus: “Fear not, Macbeth; no man that’s born of woman Shall e’er have power upon thee.”—Then fly, false thanes, And mingle with the English epicures: The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear, Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear. Enter a Servant. The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac’d loon! Where gott’st thou that goose look? SERVANT. There is ten thousand— MACBETH. Geese, villain? SERVANT. Soldiers, sir. MACBETH. Go prick thy face and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-liver’d boy. What soldiers, patch? Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face? SERVANT. The English force, so please you. MACBETH. Take thy face hence. [_Exit Servant._] Seyton!—I am sick at heart, When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push Will cheer me ever or disseat me now. I have liv’d long enough: my way of life Is fall’n into the sere, the yellow leaf; And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. Seyton!— Enter Seyton. SEYTON. What’s your gracious pleasure? MACBETH. What news more? SEYTON. All is confirm’d, my lord, which was reported. MACBETH. I’ll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack’d. Give me my armour. SEYTON. ’Tis not needed yet. MACBETH. I’ll put it on. Send out more horses, skirr the country round; Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour.— How does your patient, doctor? DOCTOR. Not so sick, my lord, As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, That keep her from her rest. MACBETH. Cure her of that: Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas’d, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? DOCTOR. Therein the patient Must minister to himself. MACBETH. Throw physic to the dogs, I’ll none of it. Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff: Seyton, send out.—Doctor, the Thanes fly from me.— Come, sir, despatch.—If thou couldst, doctor, cast The water of my land, find her disease, And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I would applaud thee to the very echo, That should applaud again.—Pull’t off, I say.— What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, Would scour these English hence? Hear’st thou of them? DOCTOR. Ay, my good lord. Your royal preparation Makes us hear something. MACBETH. Bring it after me.— I will not be afraid of death and bane, Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. [_Exeunt all except Doctor._] DOCTOR. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here. [_Exit._] SCENE IV. Country near Dunsinane: a Wood in view. Enter, with drum and colours Malcolm, old Siward and his Son, Macduff, Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox, Ross and Soldiers, marching. MALCOLM. Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand That chambers will be safe. MENTEITH. We doubt it nothing. SIWARD. What wood is this before us? MENTEITH. The wood of Birnam. MALCOLM. Let every soldier hew him down a bough, And bear’t before him. Thereby shall we shadow The numbers of our host, and make discovery Err in report of us. SOLDIERS. It shall be done. SIWARD. We learn no other but the confident tyrant Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure Our setting down before’t. MALCOLM. ’Tis his main hope; For where there is advantage to be given, Both more and less have given him the revolt, And none serve with him but constrained things, Whose hearts are absent too. MACDUFF. Let our just censures Attend the true event, and put we on Industrious soldiership. SIWARD. The time approaches, That will with due decision make us know What we shall say we have, and what we owe. Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate, But certain issue strokes must arbitrate; Towards which advance the war. [_Exeunt, marching._] SCENE V. Dunsinane. Within the castle. Enter with drum and colours, Macbeth, Seyton and Soldiers. MACBETH. 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 forc’d with those that should be ours, We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, And beat them backward home. [_A cry of women within._] What is that noise? SEYTON. It is the cry of women, my good lord. [_Exit._] MACBETH. I have almost forgot the taste of fears. The time has been, my senses would have cool’d To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in’t. I have supp’d full with horrors; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me. Enter Seyton. Wherefore was that cry? SEYTON. The Queen, my lord, is dead. MACBETH. She should have died hereafter. There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps 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. Enter a Messenger. Thou com’st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. MESSENGER. Gracious my lord, I should report that which I say I saw, But know not how to do’t. MACBETH. Well, say, sir. MESSENGER. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, I look’d toward Birnam, and anon, methought, The wood began to move. MACBETH. Liar, and slave! MESSENGER. Let me endure your wrath, if’t be not so. Within this three mile may you see it coming; I say, a moving grove. MACBETH. If thou speak’st false, Upon the next tree shalt 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 begin To 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. [_Exeunt._] SCENE VI. The same. A Plain before the Castle. Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old Siward, Macduff and their Army, with boughs. MALCOLM. Now near enough. Your leafy screens throw down, And show like those you are.—You, worthy uncle, Shall with my cousin, your right noble son, Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we Shall take upon’s what else remains to do, According to our order. SIWARD. Fare you well.— Do we but find the tyrant’s power tonight, Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. MACDUFF. Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath, Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. [_Exeunt._] SCENE VII. The same. Another part of the Plain. Alarums. Enter Macbeth. MACBETH. They have tied me to a stake. I cannot fly, But, bear-like I must fight the course.—What’s he That was not born of woman? Such a one Am I to fear, or none. Enter young Siward. YOUNG SIWARD. What is thy name? MACBETH. Thou’lt be afraid to hear it. YOUNG SIWARD. No; though thou call’st thyself a hotter name Than any is in hell. MACBETH. My name’s Macbeth. YOUNG SIWARD. The devil himself could not pronounce a title More hateful to mine ear. MACBETH. No, nor more fearful. YOUNG SIWARD. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant. With my sword I’ll prove the lie thou speak’st. [_They fight, and young Siward is slain._] MACBETH. Thou wast born of woman. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Brandish’d by man that’s of a woman born. [_Exit._] Alarums. Enter Macduff. MACDUFF. That way the noise is.—Tyrant, show thy face! If thou be’st slain and with no stroke of mine, My wife and children’s ghosts will haunt me still. I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms Are hired to bear their staves. Either thou, Macbeth, Or else my sword, with an unbatter’d edge, I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be; By this great clatter, one of greatest note Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune! And more I beg not. [_Exit. Alarums._] Enter Malcolm and old Siward. SIWARD. This way, my lord;—the castle’s gently render’d: The tyrant’s people on both sides do fight; The noble thanes do bravely in the war, The day almost itself professes yours, And little is to do. MALCOLM. We have met with foes That strike beside us. SIWARD. Enter, sir, the castle. [_Exeunt. Alarums._] SCENE VIII. The same. 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. MACDUFF. Turn, hell-hound, turn! MACBETH. Of all men else I have avoided thee: But get thee back; my soul is too much charg’d With blood of thine already. MACDUFF. I have no words; My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain Than terms can give thee out! [_They fight._] MACBETH. Thou losest labour: 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 To one of woman born. MACDUFF. Despair thy charm; And let the angel whom thou still hast serv’d Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s womb Untimely ripp’d. 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 believ’d, 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 with thee. MACDUFF. Then yield 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.” 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, And thou oppos’d, 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!” [_Exeunt fighting. Alarums._] Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old Siward, Ross, Thanes and Soldiers. MALCOLM. I would the friends we miss were safe arriv’d. 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. ROSS. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier’s debt: He only liv’d but till he was a man; The which no sooner had his prowess confirm’d In the unshrinking station where he fought, But like a man he died. SIWARD. Then he is dead? ROSS. Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow Must not be measur’d by his worth, for then It hath no end. SIWARD. Had he his hurts before? ROSS. Ay, on the front. SIWARD. Why then, God’s soldier be he! Had I as many sons as I have hairs, I would not wish them to a fairer death: And so his knell is knoll’d. MALCOLM. He’s worth more sorrow, And that I’ll spend for him. 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. Enter Macduff with Macbeth’s head. MACDUFF. Hail, King, for so thou art. Behold, where stands Th’ usurper’s cursed head: the time is free. I see thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl, That speak my salutation in their minds; Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,— Hail, King of Scotland! ALL. Hail, King of Scotland! [_Flourish._] MALCOLM. We shall not spend a large expense of time 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 honour nam’d. What’s more to do, Which would be planted newly with the time,— As calling home our exil’d 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 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. [_Flourish. Exeunt._] MEASURE FOR MEASURE Contents ACT I Scene I. An apartment in the Duke’s palace Scene II. A street Scene III. A monastery Scene IV. A nunnery ACT II Scene I. A hall in Angelo’s house Scene II. Another room in the same Scene III. A room in a prison Scene IV. A room in Angelo’s house ACT III Scene I. A room in the prison Scene II. The street before the prisons ACT IV Scene I. A room in Mariana’s house Scene II. A room in the prison Scene III. Another room in the same Scene IV. A room in Angelo’s house Scene V. Fields without the town Scene VI. Street near the city gate ACT V Scene I. A public place near the city gate Dramatis Personæ Vincentio, DUKE of Vienna ESCALUS, an ancient Lord PROVOST ELBOW, a simple constable ABHORSON, an executioner A JUSTICE VARRIUS, a Gentleman, Servant to the Duke ANGELO, Deputy to the Duke MARIANA, betrothed to Angelo BOY, singer SERVANT, to Angelo MESSENGER, from Angelo ISABELLA, Sister to Claudio FRANCISCA, a nun CLAUDIO, a young Gentleman JULIET, betrothed to Claudio LUCIO, a fantastic Two GENTLEMEN FRIAR THOMAS FRIAR PETER Mistress Overdone, a BAWD POMPEY, Servant to Mistress Overdone FROTH, a foolish gentleman BARNARDINE, a dissolute prisoner Lords, Officers, Servants, Citizens and Attendants SCENE: Vienna ACT I SCENE I. An apartment in the Duke’s palace. Enter Duke, Escalus, Lords and Attendants. DUKE. Escalus. ESCALUS. My lord. DUKE. Of government the properties to unfold Would seem in me t’ affect speech and discourse, Since I am put to know that your own science Exceeds, in that, the lists of all advice My strength can give you. Then no more remains But that, to your sufficiency, as your worth is able, And let them work. The nature of our people, Our city’s institutions, and the terms For common justice, you’re as pregnant in As art and practice hath enriched any That we remember. There is our commission, From which we would not have you warp.—Call hither, I say, bid come before us, Angelo. [_Exit an Attendant._] What figure of us think you he will bear? For you must know we have with special soul Elected him our absence to supply; Lent him our terror, drest him with our love, And given his deputation all the organs Of our own power. What think you of it? ESCALUS. If any in Vienna be of worth To undergo such ample grace and honour, It is Lord Angelo. Enter Angelo. DUKE. Look where he comes. ANGELO. Always obedient to your Grace’s will, I come to know your pleasure. DUKE. Angelo, There is a kind of character in thy life That to th’ observer doth thy history Fully unfold. Thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues Did not go forth of us, ’twere all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touched But to fine issues; nor nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor, Both thanks and use. But I do bend my speech To one that can my part in him advertise. Hold, therefore, Angelo. In our remove be thou at full ourself. Mortality and mercy in Vienna Live in thy tongue and heart. Old Escalus, Though first in question, is thy secondary. Take thy commission. ANGELO. Now, good my lord, Let there be some more test made of my metal, Before so noble and so great a figure Be stamped upon it. DUKE. No more evasion. We have with a leavened and prepared choice Proceeded to you; therefore take your honours. Our haste from hence is of so quick condition That it prefers itself, and leaves unquestioned Matters of needful value. We shall write to you, As time and our concernings shall importune, How it goes with us; and do look to know What doth befall you here. So, fare you well. To th’ hopeful execution do I leave you Of your commissions. ANGELO. Yet give leave, my lord, That we may bring you something on the way. DUKE. My haste may not admit it; Nor need you, on mine honour, have to do With any scruple. Your scope is as mine own, So to enforce or qualify the laws As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand; I’ll privily away. I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes. Though it do well, I do not relish well Their loud applause and _Aves_ vehement; Nor do I think the man of safe discretion That does affect it. Once more, fare you well. ANGELO. The heavens give safety to your purposes! ESCALUS. Lead forth and bring you back in happiness. DUKE. I thank you. Fare you well. [_Exit._] ESCALUS. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave To have free speech with you; and it concerns me To look into the bottom of my place. A power I have, but of what strength and nature I am not yet instructed. ANGELO. ’Tis so with me. Let us withdraw together, And we may soon our satisfaction have Touching that point. ESCALUS. I’ll wait upon your honour. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. A street. Enter Lucio and two other Gentlemen. LUCIO. If the Duke, with the other dukes, come not to composition with the King of Hungary, why then all the dukes fall upon the King. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Heaven grant us its peace, but not the King of Hungary’s! SECOND GENTLEMAN. Amen. LUCIO. Thou conclud’st like the sanctimonious pirate that went to sea with the ten commandments, but scraped one out of the table. SECOND GENTLEMAN. “Thou shalt not steal”? LUCIO. Ay, that he razed. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Why, ’twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions! They put forth to steal. There’s not a soldier of us all that, in the thanksgiving before meat, do relish the petition well that prays for peace. SECOND GENTLEMAN. I never heard any soldier dislike it. LUCIO. I believe thee; for I think thou never wast where grace was said. SECOND GENTLEMAN. No? A dozen times at least. FIRST GENTLEMAN. What? In metre? LUCIO. In any proportion or in any language. FIRST GENTLEMAN. I think, or in any religion. LUCIO. Ay, why not? Grace is grace, despite of all controversy; as, for example, thou thyself art a wicked villain, despite of all grace. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Well, there went but a pair of shears between us. LUCIO. I grant, as there may between the lists and the velvet. Thou art the list. FIRST GENTLEMAN. And thou the velvet. Thou art good velvet; thou’rt a three-piled piece, I warrant thee. I had as lief be a list of an English kersey as be piled, as thou art piled, for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly now? LUCIO. I think thou dost, and indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech. I will, out of thine own confession, learn to begin thy health; but, whilst I live, forget to drink after thee. FIRST GENTLEMAN. I think I have done myself wrong, have I not? SECOND GENTLEMAN. Yes, that thou hast, whether thou art tainted or free. Enter Mistress Overdone, a Bawd. LUCIO. Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes! I have purchased as many diseases under her roof as come to— SECOND GENTLEMAN. To what, I pray? FIRST GENTLEMAN. Judge. SECOND GENTLEMAN. To three thousand dolours a year. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Ay, and more. LUCIO. A French crown more. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Thou art always figuring diseases in me, but thou art full of error; I am sound. LUCIO. Nay, not, as one would say, healthy, but so sound as things that are hollow. Thy bones are hollow. Impiety has made a feast of thee. FIRST GENTLEMAN. How now, which of your hips has the most profound sciatica? BAWD. Well, well! There’s one yonder arrested and carried to prison was worth five thousand of you all. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Who’s that, I pray thee? BAWD. Marry, sir, that’s Claudio, Signior Claudio. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Claudio to prison? ’Tis not so. BAWD. Nay, but I know ’tis so. I saw him arrested, saw him carried away; and, which is more, within these three days his head to be chopped off. LUCIO. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so. Art thou sure of this? BAWD. I am too sure of it. And it is for getting Madam Julietta with child. LUCIO. Believe me, this may be. He promised to meet me two hours since, and he was ever precise in promise-keeping. SECOND GENTLEMAN. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose. FIRST GENTLEMAN. But most of all agreeing with the proclamation. LUCIO. Away! Let’s go learn the truth of it. [_Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen._] BAWD. Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk. Enter Pompey. How now? What’s the news with you? POMPEY. Yonder man is carried to prison. BAWD. Well, what has he done? POMPEY. A woman. BAWD. But what’s his offence? POMPEY. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. BAWD. What? Is there a maid with child by him? POMPEY. No, but there’s a woman with maid by him. You have not heard of the proclamation, have you? BAWD. What proclamation, man? POMPEY. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down.