by: William Shakespeare

Original Text

Modern Text

     Who then shall blame
His pestered senses to recoil and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
25Itself for being there?
Who can blame him for acting crazy, when inside he condemns himself for everything he’s done?
     Well, march we on,
To give obedience where ’tis truly owed.
Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
And with him pour we in our country’s purge
Each drop of us.
Well, let’s keep marching and give our loyalty to someone who truly deserves it. We’re going to meet Malcolm, the doctor who will cure our sick country. We’ll pour out our own blood to help him.
     Or so much as it needs,
30To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.
Make we our march towards Birnam.
However much blood we need to give to water the royal flower and drown the weeds—to make Malcolm king and get rid of Macbeth. Let’s proceed on our march to Birnam.
Exeunt, marching
They exit, marching.

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