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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

35   Enter, sir, the castle.