MALCOLM. Now near enough. Your leafy screens throw down, And show like those you are.—You, worthy uncle, Shall with my cousin, your right noble son, Lead our first battle: worthy Macduff and we Shall take upon’s what else remains to do, According to our order. 

 SIWARD. Fare you well.— Do we but find the tyrant’s power tonight, Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. 

 MACDUFF. Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath, Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. 

[Exeunt.]

 SCENE VII. The same. Another part of the Plain.

Alarums. Enter Macbeth.

Macbeth

 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.

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 I’ll prove the lie thou speak’st. 

[They fight, and young Siward is slain.]

Siward

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