Why should I play the Roman fool, and die
On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes
Do better upon them.
Why should I play the Roman fool, and die On mine own sword? whiles I see lives, the gashes Do better upon them.
why should i play the roman fool, and die on mine own sword? whiles i see lives, the gashes do better upon them.
why should i play the roman fool, and die on mine own sword?
Turn, hell-hound, turn!
Turn, hell-hound, turn!
turn, hell-hound, turn!
turn, hell-hound, turn!
Of all men else I have avoided thee:
But get thee back; my soul is too much charg’d
With blood of thine already.
Of all men else I have avoided thee: But get thee back; my soul is too much charg’d With blood of thine already.
of all men else i have avoided thee: but get thee back; my soul is too much charg’d with blood of thine already.
of all men else i have avoided thee: but get thee back; my s
I have no words;
My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!
I have no words; My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain Than terms can give thee out!
i have no words; my voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain than terms can give thee out!
i have no words; my voice is in my sword: thou bloodier vill
Thou losest labour:
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.
Thou losest labour: As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; I bear a charmed life, which must not yield To one of woman born.
thou losest labour: as easy mayst thou the intrenchant air with thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed: let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests; i bear a charmed life, which must not yield to one of woman born.
thou losest labour: as easy mayst thou the intrenchant air w
Macduff's revelation — 'from his mother's womb / Untimely ripped' — is the play's last and most devastating equivocal fulfillment. In Jacobean medical and legal understanding, Caesarean section was an emergency procedure performed when natural birth had failed, typically when the mother was dying or dead. It was not a routine birth option; it was an emergency extraction. The child 'ripped' from the womb was not considered to have been 'born' in the normal sense — the word 'born' in early modern English specifically implied the process of natural delivery. This linguistic and medical distinction is what the witches' equivocation depends on. Macbeth heard 'none of woman born shall harm thee' and understood it as 'no human being can harm you.' The witches knew it meant 'only a man delivered by Caesarean section can harm you' — which is to say, specifically Macduff, who the first apparition had already warned about. The entire structure of the second prophecy was a precision instrument aimed at one man.
Despair thy charm;
And let the angel whom thou still hast serv’d
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s womb
Untimely ripp’d.
Despair thy charm; And let the angel whom thou still hast serv’d Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s womb Untimely ripp’d.
despair thy charm; and let the angel whom thou still hast serv’d tell thee, macduff was from his mother’s womb untimely ripp’d.
despair thy charm; and let the angel whom thou still hast se
Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cow’d my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believ’d,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope!—I’ll not fight with thee.
Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, For it hath cow’d my better part of man! And be these juggling fiends no more believ’d, That palter with us in a double sense; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope!—I’ll not fight with thee.
accursed be that tongue that tells me so, for it hath cow’d my better part of man! and be these juggling fiends no more believ’d, that palter with us in a double sense; that keep the word of promise to our ear, and break it to our hope!—i’ll not fight with thee.
accursed be that tongue that tells me so, for it hath cow’d
Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o’ th’ time.
We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit,
“Here may you see the tyrant.”
Then yield thee, coward, And live to be the show and gaze o’ th’ time. We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, Painted upon a pole, and underwrit, “Here may you see the tyrant.”
then yield thee, coward, and live to be the show and gaze o’ th’ time. we’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are, painted upon a pole, and underwrit, “here may you see the tyrant.”
then yield thee, coward, and live to be the show and gaze o’
I will not yield,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet,
And to be baited with the rabble’s curse.
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou oppos’d, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last. Before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”
I will not yield, To kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet, And to be baited with the rabble’s curse. Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, And thou oppos’d, being of no woman born, Yet I will try the last. Before my body I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff; And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold, enough!”
i will not yield, to kiss the ground before young malcolm’s feet, and to be baited with the rabble’s curse. though birnam wood be come to dunsinane, and thou oppos’d, being of no woman born, yet i will try the last. before my body i throw my warlike shield: lay on, macduff; and damn’d be him that first cries, “hold, enough!”
i will not yield, to kiss the ground before young malcolm’s
I would the friends we miss were safe arriv’d.
I would the friends we miss were safe arriv’d.
i would the friends we miss were safe arriv’d.
i would the friends we miss were safe arriv’d.
Malcolm's closing speech is sometimes criticized as insufficient — a brief summary of what needs to be done, a list of new titles, and a compressed and uncertain account of Lady Macbeth's death. But its brevity and plainness may be deliberate. Shakespeare does not give us a triumphant restoration scene. Malcolm does not make a great speech about Scotland's renewal or his own fitness to be king. He distributes titles, promises to address loose ends, and calls for a coronation. The tone is administrative, not celebratory. This may be the play's final judgment: that the restoration of order after tyranny is not a glorious moment but a difficult, practical business. The exiles need to be called home. The 'cruel ministers' need to be found. The dead butcher's legacy has to be dealt with. Scotland is not healed; it is beginning to heal. Malcolm's epitaph for the Macbeths — 'this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen' — is the public version, the political simplification needed to move forward. The play knows it is a simplification. So does the audience.
Some must go off; and yet, by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
Some must go off; and yet, by these I see, So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
some must go off; and yet, by these i see, so great a day as this is cheaply bought.
some must go off; and yet, by these i see, so great a day as
Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
macduff is missing, and your noble son.
macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier’s debt:
He only liv’d but till he was a man;
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm’d
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.
Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier’s debt: He only liv’d but till he was a man; The which no sooner had his prowess confirm’d In the unshrinking station where he fought, But like a man he died.
your son, my lord, has paid a soldier’s debt: he only liv’d but till he was a man; the which no sooner had his prowess confirm’d in the unshrinking station where he fought, but like a man he died.
your son, my lord, has paid a soldier’s debt: he only liv’d
Then he is dead?
Then he is dead?
then he is dead?
then he is dead?
Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow
Must not be measur’d by his worth, for then
It hath no end.
Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow Must not be measur’d by his worth, for then It hath no end.
ay, and brought off the field. your cause of sorrow must not be measur’d by his worth, for then it hath no end.
ay, and brought off the field. your cause of sorrow must not
Had he his hurts before?
Had he his hurts before?
had he his hurts before?
had he his hurts before?
Ay, on the front.
Ay, on the front.
ay, on the front.
ay, on the front.
Why then, God’s soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knoll’d.
Why then, God’s soldier be he! Had I as many sons as I have hairs, I would not wish them to a fairer death: And so his knell is knoll’d.
why then, god’s soldier be he! had i as many sons as i have hairs, i would not wish them to a fairer death: and so his knell is knoll’d.
why then, god’s soldier be he! had i as many sons as i have
The question of whether Macbeth deserves sympathy at the end of the play has occupied critics since the play's first performances. He has murdered a king, his best friend, a mother and her children. He has tyrannized a nation. He is guilty of everything. And yet Shakespeare gives him, in the final scenes, a series of moments that are not without dignity: the honest self-accounting of the 'sear, the yellow leaf' speech; the precise naming of the witches' equivocation; the refusal to capitulate even when he knows he will die; the strange guilt toward Macduff ('my soul is too much charged with blood of thine already'). These are not redemptive moments — they do not cancel his crimes — but they make him human in a way that a simple villain is not. Aristotle's definition of tragedy requires that the tragic hero be someone of greatness who falls through a flaw. Macbeth fits the frame: he was great (a soldier of extraordinary ability and loyalty), he had a flaw (ambition married to susceptibility to manipulation), and he fell. That the fall destroyed others as well as himself is the play's moral seriousness. Whether we mourn him is the question Macbeth leaves us with. Shakespeare, characteristically, does not answer it.
He’s worth more sorrow,
And that I’ll spend for him.
He’s worth more sorrow, And that I’ll spend for him.
he’s worth more sorrow, and that i’ll spend for him.
he’s worth more sorrow, and that i’ll spend for him.
He’s worth no more.
They say he parted well and paid his score:
And so, God be with him!—Here comes newer comfort.
He’s worth no more. They say he parted well and paid his score: And so, God be with him!—Here comes newer comfort.
he’s worth no more. they say he parted well and paid his score: and so, god be with him!—here comes newer comfort.
he’s worth no more. they say he parted well and paid his sco
Hail, King, for so thou art. Behold, where stands
Th’ usurper’s cursed head: the time is free.
I see thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl,
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,—
Hail, King of Scotland!
Hail, King, for so thou art. Behold, where stands Th’ usurper’s cursed head: the time is free. I see thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl, That speak my salutation in their minds; Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,— Hail, King of Scotland!
hail, king, for so thou art. behold, where stands th’ usurper’s cursed head: the time is free. i see thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl, that speak my salutation in their minds; whose voices i desire aloud with mine,— hail, king of scotland!
hail, king, for so thou art. behold, where stands th’ usurpe
Hail, King of Scotland!
Hail, King of Scotland!
hail, king of scotland!
hail, king of scotland!
We shall not spend a large expense of time
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,
Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
In such an honour nam’d. What’s more to do,
Which would be planted newly with the time,—
As calling home our exil’d friends abroad,
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,
Who, as ’tis thought, by self and violent hands
Took off her life;—this, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,
We will perform in measure, time, and place.
So thanks to all at once, and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crown’d at Scone.
We shall not spend a large expense of time Before we reckon with your several loves, And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen, Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland In such an honour nam’d. What’s more to do, Which would be planted newly with the time,— As calling home our exil’d friends abroad, That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; Producing forth the cruel ministers Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen, Who, as ’tis thought, by self and violent hands Took off her life;—this, and what needful else That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace, We will perform in measure, time, and place. So thanks to all at once, and to each one, Whom we invite to see us crown’d at Scone.
we shall not spend a large expense of time before we reckon with your several loves, and make us even with you. my thanes and kinsmen, henceforth be earls, the first that ever scotland in such an honour nam’d. what’s more to do, which would be planted newly with the time,— as calling home our exil’d friends abroad, that fled the snares of watchful tyranny; producing forth the cruel ministers of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen, who, as ’tis thought, by self and violent hands took off her life;—this, and what needful else that calls upon us, by the grace of grace, we will perform in measure, time, and place. so thanks to all at once, and to each one, whom we invite to see us crown’d at scone.
we shall not spend a large expense of time before we reckon
The Reckoning
The final scene, and the play's last and most complete unfolding. Macbeth's first instinct is to avoid fighting Macduff — not from cowardice but from a strange guilt: 'my soul is too much charged / With blood of thine already.' He has Macduff's family's deaths on his conscience, and Macduff represents the specific cost of his tyranny. When Macduff forces the fight, Macbeth retreats into the prophecy: 'I bear a charmed life which must not yield / To one of woman born.' And then the last equivocation falls: 'Macduff was from his mother's womb / Untimely ripped.' The play's central mechanism — prophecy that is technically true and practically deceptive — is finally and completely revealed. Macbeth's response is the play's most interesting final moment: 'Yet I will try the last.' He doesn't surrender; he doesn't beg; he fights knowing he will lose. Then he dies. Malcolm enters, distributes titles, calls the exiles home, and announces his coronation. Order is restored. But it is a bleak restoration: the world is exhausted, many are dead, and the final words are about starting again. Whether that restoration is consoling or not is the question the play leaves the audience to answer.
If this happened today…
The cornered man and the one who comes for him finally meet. The cornered man says: 'I'd rather you not be the one to do this.' The other one says: 'Too bad.' The cornered man claims he can't be stopped. The other one says: 'Actually — here's why that's not true.' The fight happens. Then the new leader gives a brief speech about rebuilding. Everyone goes home.