MACBETH	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.
[Enter YOUNG SIWARD]
YOUNG SIWARD	What is thy name?
MACBETH	Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
YOUNG SIWARD	No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name
	Than any is in hell.
MACBETH	My name's Macbeth.
YOUNG SIWARD	The devil himself could not pronounce a title
	More hateful to mine ear.
MACBETH	No, nor more fearful.
YOUNG SIWARD	Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword	10
	I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
[They fight and YOUNG SIWARD is slain]
MACBETH	Thou wast born of woman
	But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
	Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born.
[Exit]
[Alarums. Enter MACDUFF]
MACDUFF	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;	20
	By this great clatter, one of greatest note
	Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
	And more I beg not.
[Exit. Alarums]
[Enter MALCOLM and SIWARD]
SIWARD	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.
MALCOLM	We have met with foes
	That strike beside us.