Scene VII

Another part of the field

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

Young Siward

What is thy name?


Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

Young Siward

No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
Than any is in hell.


My name's Macbeth.

Young Siward

The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.


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


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.

Exit. Alarums

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.


We have met with foes
That strike beside us.


Enter, sir, the castle.

Exeunt. Alarums

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