Act V, Scene ii:
The Country near Dunsinane.

[Enter. with drum and colours, 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 ow'd:

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.]