Hang out our banners on the outward walls;

5.5.22322The cry is still, "They come." Our castle's strength

5.5.32323Will laugh a siege to scorn. Here let them lie

5.5.42324Till famine and the ague eat them up.

5.5.52325Were they not forced with those that should be ours,

5.5.62326We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,

5.5.72327And beat them backward home.

And beat them backward home. What is that noise?

It is the cry of women, my good lord.

I have almost forgot the taste of fears:

5.5.102331The time has been my senses would have cooled

5.5.112332To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair

5.5.122333Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir

5.5.132334As life were in't. I have supped full with horrors.

5.5.142335Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts,

5.5.152336Cannot once start me. Wherefore was that cry?

The Queen, my lord, is dead.

She should have died hereafter;

5.5.182339There would have been a time for such a word.

5.5.192340Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

5.5.202341Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

5.5.212342To the last syllable of recorded time;

5.5.222343And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

5.5.232344The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle,

5.5.242345Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

5.5.252346That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

5.5.262347And then is heard no more. It is a tale

5.5.272348Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury

5.5.282349Signifying nothing.

5.5.292350Thou com'st to use thy tongue--thy story quickly.

Gracious my lord,

5.5.312352I should report that which I say I saw

5.5.322353But know not how to do't.

But know not how to do't. Well, say, sir.

As I did stand my watch upon the hill

5.5.342356I looked toward Birnam and anon methought

5.5.352357The wood began to move.

The wood began to move. Liar and slave!

Let me endure your wrath if't be not so--

5.5.372360Within this three mile may you see it coming.

5.5.382361I say, a moving grove.

I say, a moving grove. If thou speak'st false,

5.5.392363Upon the next tree shall thou hang alive

5.5.402364Till famine cling thee; if thy speech be sooth,

5.5.412365I care not if thou dost for me as much.

5.5.422366I pull in resolution and begin

5.5.432367To doubt th'equivocation of the fiend

5.5.442368That lies like truth: "Fear not, till Birnam Wood

5.5.452369Do come to Dunsinane," and now a wood

5.5.462370Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and out!

5.5.472371If this which he avouches does appear,

5.5.482372There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here.

5.5.492373I 'gin to be aweary of the sun,

5.5.502374And wish th'estate o'th' world were now undone.

5.5.512375Ring the alarum bell! Blow wind, come wrack,

5.5.522376At least we'll die with harness on our back.