SCENE VIII. Another part of the field. The Tragedy of Macbeth  Shakespeare homepage  |  Macbeth  | Act 5, Scene 8 

 Previous scene  SCENE VIII. Another part of the field. 

 Enter MACBETH  MACBETH  Why should I play the Roman fool, and die 

 On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes 

 Do 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 charged 

 With blood of thine already. 

 MACDUFF  I have no words: 

 My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain 

 Than terms can give thee out! 



 They fight  MACBETH  Thou losest labour: 

 As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air 

 With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed: 

 Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; 

 I bear a charmed life, which must not yield, 

 To one of woman born. 

 MACDUFF  Despair thy charm; 

 And let the angel whom thou still hast served 

 Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb 

 Untimely 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 believed, 

 That palter 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' the time: 

 We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, 

 Painted on 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 opposed, being of no woman born, 

 Yet I will try the last. Before my body 

 I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff, 

 And damn'd be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough!' 



 Exeunt, fighting. Alarums 

 Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, SIWARD, ROSS, the other Thanes, and Soldiers  MALCOLM  I would the friends we miss were safe arrived. 

 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 lived but till he was a man; 

 The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd 

 In 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 sorrow 

 Must not be measured by his worth, for then 

 It 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'd. 

 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. 



 Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head  MACDUFF  Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, where stands 

 The 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 time 

 Before we reckon with your several loves, 

 And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen, 

 Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland 

 In such an honour named. What's more to do, 

 Which would be planted newly with the time, 

 As calling home our exiled friends abroad 

 That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; 

 Producing forth the cruel ministers 

 Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen, 

 Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands 

 Took off her life; this, and what needful else 

 That 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 