âTo Meet with Macbeth,â given by tutor Louis ... - St. John's College
âTo Meet with Macbeth,â given by tutor Louis ... - St. John's College
âTo Meet with Macbeth,â given by tutor Louis ... - St. John's College
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More hateful to mine ear.<br />
<strong>Macbeth</strong>.<br />
No, nor more fearful.<br />
Young Siward.<br />
Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; <strong>with</strong> my sword<br />
I’ll prove the lie thou speak’st.<br />
Fight, and Young Siward slain.<br />
<strong>Macbeth</strong>.<br />
Thou wast born of woman.<br />
(V.vii.4-11)<br />
Recall the words: “Thou liest, thou shag-eared villain!” (IV.ii.81). Young Siward speaks from his father’s<br />
book of chivalry, and he may take some brave hurts on the front before he falls, but like the Macduff<br />
boy he is not meet for such a killer. <strong>Macbeth</strong> exits, laughing <strong>with</strong> scorn at all such men and weapons as<br />
these. Bravery and warrior prowess are not enough to kill this “abhorred tyrant.” He asserts the right to<br />
his name, <strong>Macbeth</strong>, still belonging to the warrior of singular interest who was alone worthy to meet and<br />
be named from among all the actors in the hurly-burly world of war and politics.<br />
Shakespeare shows us the fight <strong>with</strong> Young Siward not only to recall the famous and dreadful<br />
warrior. He also wants us to see Old Siward hearing the news of his son’s death. This is an<br />
unforgettable little scene of mismatch between the true soldier and the omnipresent reporter of news,<br />
Ross, always trying to reflect the glow of manly action from the surface of his safe-keeping character,<br />
which does nothing himself but add moral tints to the deeds of others:<br />
Ross.<br />
Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier’s debt:<br />
He only lived but till he was a man;<br />
The which no sooner had his prowess confirmed<br />
In the unshrinking station where he fought,<br />
But like a man he died.<br />
Siward.<br />
Then is he dead?<br />
Ross.<br />
Ay, and brought off the field. Your cause of sorrow<br />
Must not be measured <strong>by</strong> his worth, for then<br />
It hath no end.<br />
Siward.<br />
Had he his hurts before?<br />
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