Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 7
Original
Modern English
Alarums. Enter Macbeth.
Trumpet calls to arms. Macbeth comes in.
Macbeth1
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.
They have tied me to a stake. I cannot run away, but like a bear I have to fight to the end of the round. Who is the man who was not born of a woman? He is the one I must fear, or nobody.
Enter young Siward.
Young Siward comes in.
Young Siward5
What is thy name?
What is your name?
Macbeth6
Thou’lt be afraid to hear it.
You will be afraid to hear it.
Young Siward7
No; though thou call’st thyself a hotter name Than any is in hell.
No, not even if you called yourself by a hotter name than any in hell.
Macbeth9
My name’s Macbeth.
My name is Macbeth.
Young Siward10
The devil himself could not pronounce a title More hateful to mine ear.
The devil himself could not say a name more hateful to my ear.
Macbeth12
No, nor more fearful.
No, nor one more frightening.
Young Siward13
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant. With my sword I’ll prove the lie thou speak’st.
You lie, you loathsome tyrant. With my sword I'll prove that what you say is a lie.
They fight, and young Siward is slain.
They fight, and young Siward is killed.
Macbeth15
Thou wast born of woman. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Brandish’d by man that’s of a woman born.
You were born of a woman. I smile at swords and laugh weapons to scorn when they are swung by a man born of a woman.
Exit.
He leaves.
Alarums. Enter Macduff.
Trumpet calls to arms. Macduff comes in.
Macduff18
That way the noise is.—Tyrant, show thy face! If thou be’st slain and with no stroke of mine, My wife and children’s ghosts will haunt me still. I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms Are hired to bear their staves. Either thou, Macbeth, Or else my sword, with an unbatter’d edge, I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be; By this great clatter, one of greatest note Seems bruited. Let me find him, Fortune! And more I beg not.
The noise is coming from that direction. Tyrant, show your face! If you are killed and not by a blow of mine, the ghosts of my wife and children will haunt me forever. I cannot strike at miserable foot soldiers, whose arms are hired to carry their spears. It must be you, Macbeth, or else I put my sword back in its sheath with its edge undented and nothing done. You must be over there: by this loud clattering, someone of the highest rank seems to be announced. Let me find him, Fortune! And I ask for nothing more.
Exit. Alarums.
He leaves. Trumpet calls to arms.
Enter Malcolm and old Siward.
Malcolm and old Siward come in.
Siward28
This way, my lord;—the castle’s gently render’d: The tyrant’s people on both sides do fight; The noble thanes do bravely in the war, The day almost itself professes yours, And little is to do.
This way, my lord. The castle was surrendered without a struggle. The tyrant's men are fighting on both sides. The noble thanes are doing splendidly in the battle. The day almost declares itself yours, and there is little left to do.
Malcolm33
We have met with foes That strike beside us.
We have met enemies who aim their blows so as to miss us.
Siward35
Enter, sir, the castle.
Go into the castle, sir.
Exeunt. Alarums.
They leave. Trumpet calls to arms.
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