Internet Shakespeare Editions

About this text

  • Title: Macbeth: Modern (Modern)
  • Editor: Anthony Dawson
  • Coordinating editor: Michael Best
  • Research assistant: Katie Davion
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-528-5

    Copyright Anthony Dawson. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Anthony Dawson
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Modern (Modern)

    Drum and colors. Enter Menteith, Caithness, 2175Angus, Lennox, soldiers.
    The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
    His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
    Revenges burn in them, for their dear causes
    Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
    2180Excite the mortified man.
    Near Birnam Wood
    Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
    Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
    For certain, sir, he is not. I have a file
    2185Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son
    And many unrough youths that even now
    Protest their first of manhood.
    What does the tyrant?
    Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies.
    2190Some say he's mad, others that lesser hate him
    Do call it valiant fury, but for certain
    He cannot buckle his distempered cause
    Within the belt of rule.
    Now does he feel
    2195His secret murders sticking on his hands;
    Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
    Those he commands move only in command,
    Nothing in love. Now does he feel his title
    Hang loose about him like a giant's robe
    2200Upon a dwarfish thief.
    Who then shall blame
    His pestered senses to recoil and start,
    When all that is within him does condemn
    Itself for being there?
    Well, march we on
    To give obedience where 'tis truly owed;
    Meet we the med'cine of the sickly weal
    And with him pour we in our country's purge,
    Each drop of us.
    Or so much as it needs
    To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.
    Make we our march towards Birnam.
    Exeunt, marching.