| [Drum and colours. Enter MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, and Soldiers] |
|
| MENTEITH | 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 Excite the mortified man. |
| ANGUS | Near Birnam wood Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming. |
| CAITHNESS | Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother? |
| LENNOX | For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son, And many unrough youths that even now Protest their first of manhood. |
| MENTEITH | What does the tyrant? |
| CAITHNESS | Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies: Some say he's mad; others that lesser hate him Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain, He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause Within the belt of rule. |
| ANGUS | Now does he feel His 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 Upon a dwarfish thief. |
| MENTEITH | Who then shall blame His pester'd senses to recoil and start, When all that is within him does condemn Itself for being there? |
| CAITHNESS | Well, march we on, To give obedience where 'tis truly owed: Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal, And with him pour we in our country's purge Each drop of us. |
| LENNOX | Or so much as it needs, To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds. Make we our march towards Birnam. |
| [Exeunt, marching] |