Monologue

Macbeth Monologue

From Macbeth by William Shakespeare

male · dark · 1:03 min

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If thou speak’st false, Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth, I care not if thou dost for me as much.— I pull in resolution; and begin To doubt th’ equivocation of the fiend, That lies like truth. “Fear not, till Birnam wood Do come to Dunsinane;” and now a wood Comes toward Dunsinane.—Arm, arm, and out!— If this which he avouches does appear, There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. I ’gin to be aweary of the sun, And wish th’ estate o’ th’ world were now undone.— Ring the alarum bell!—Blow, wind! come, wrack! At least we’ll die with harness on our back. (Exeunt.)

About this piece

Macbeth grapples with the prophecies of the witches as he faces impending doom, feeling the weight of his actions and the encroaching threat to his power.

30s · fear · power · fate · madness · death

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