Page:Macbeth (1918) Yale.djvu/98

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Mal. Now near enough; your leavy screens throw down,

And show like those you are. You, worthy uncle,

Shall, with my cousin, your right-noble son,

Lead our first battle; worthy Macduff and we

Shall take upon 's what else remains to do,

According to our order.

Siw. Fare you well.

Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,

Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.

Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,

Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.

Exeunt. Alarums continued.

Macb. 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.

Young Siw. What is thy name?

Macb. Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.

 4 battle: line of battle  2 course: round, innings; cf. n. 