MENTEITH	The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
	His uncle Siward and the good Macduff:
	Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
	Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
	Excite the mortified man.
ANGUS	Near Birnam wood
	Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
CAITHNESS	Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?
LENNOX	For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
	Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son,
	And many unrough youths that even now	10
	Protest their first of manhood.
MENTEITH	What does the tyrant?
CAITHNESS	Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
	Some say he's mad; others that lesser hate him
	Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
	He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
	Within the belt of rule.
ANGUS	Now does he feel
	His secret murders sticking on his hands;
	Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith–breach;
	Those he commands move only in command,
	Nothing in love: now does he feel his title	20
	Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
	Upon a dwarfish thief.
MENTEITH	Who then shall blame
	His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
	When all that is within him does condemn
	Itself for being there?
CAITHNESS	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.
LENNOX	Or so much as it needs,
	To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.	30
	Make we our march towards Birnam.
[Exeunt, marching]