1 They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly, 2 But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What's he 3 That was not born of woman? Such a one 4 Am I to fear, or none.
Enter YOUNG SIWARD
5 What is thy name?
6 Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
7 No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name 8 Than any is in hell.
9 My name's Macbeth.
10 The devil himself could not pronounce a title 11 More hateful to mine ear.
12 No, nor more fearful.
13 Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword 14 I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
They fight and YOUNG SIWARD is slain
15 Thou wast born of woman 16 But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, 17 Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born.
Alarums. Enter MACDUFF
18 That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face! 19 If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine, 20 My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still. 21 I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms 22 Are hired to bear their staves: either thou, Macbeth, 23 Or else my sword with an unbatter'd edge 24 I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be; 25 By this great clatter, one of greatest note 26 Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune! 27 And more I beg not.
Enter MALCOLM and SIWARD
28 This way, my lord; the castle's gently render'd: 29 The tyrant's people on both sides do fight; 30 The noble thanes do bravely in the war; 31 The day almost itself professes yours, 32 And little is to do.
33 We have met with foes 34 That strike beside us.