Macb. Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hotter name[4624]
Than any is in hell.
Macb. My name 's Macbeth.
Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.
Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword[4625] 10
I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.
[They fight, and young Siward is slain.[4626]
Macb. 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.
Macd. That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!
If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine, 15
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,[4627]
Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge,[4628]
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be; 20
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited: let me find him, fortune![4629][4630]
And more I beg not.[4629] [Exit. Alarums.[4631]