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Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 8

Macbeth's final duel · William Shakespeare
Every note, for your class

Previously, in Act 5, Scene 7

Macbeth kills Young Siward in single combat and takes renewed confidence from the prophecy. Macduff searches the battlefield for Macbeth, determined to avenge his family personally. Malcolm and Siward enter the castle as Macbeth's forces offer little resistance.

SCENE VIII. The same. Another part of the field.

Enter Macbeth.
MACBETH
Why should I play the Roman fool, and dieOn mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashesDo 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’dWith blood of thine already.
MACDUFF
I have no words;My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villainThan terms can give thee out!
They fight.
MACBETH
Thou losest labour:As easy mayst thou the intrenchantincapable of being cut or wounded. airWith thy keen sword impressthe compulsory enlistment of people into military or naval service., as make me bleed:Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;I bear a charmed life, which must not yieldTo one of woman born.
MACDUFF
Despair thy charm;And let the angel whom thou still hast serv’dTell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s wombUntimely 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 palterto equivocate or deceive with ambiguous words. 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 bodyI throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”
Exeunta stage direction indicating that two or more characters leave the stage. 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’dIn 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 sorrowMust not be measur’d by his worth, for thenIt 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’dto toll a bell solemnly..
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 standsTh’ 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 timeBefore we reckon with your several loves,And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,Henceforth be earls, the first that ever ScotlandIn 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 ministersOf this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,Who, as ’tis thought, by self and violent handsTook off her life;—this, and what needful elseThat 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.