Alarums. Enter 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
They fight and Young Siward is slain
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
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.
Enter Malcolm and 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.