The cry is still, 'They come'; our castle's strength
Will laugh a siege to scorn; here let them lie
Till famine and the ague eat them up; 4
Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home.
A cry within of women.
What is that noise?
Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. 8
Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears.
The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir 12
As life were in 't. I have supp'd full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.
[Enter Seyton.]
Wherefore was that cry?
Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. 16
Macb. She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, 20
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player 24
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more; it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing. 28
5 forc'd: reinforced
11 fell: scalp
15 start: startle
17 should have died: would have had to die
