YOUNG SIWARD. The devil himself could not pronounce a title More hateful to mine ear.

MACBETH. No, nor more fearful.

YOUNG SIWARD. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant. With my sword I’ll prove the lie thou speak’st.

[_They fight, and young Siward is slain._]

MACBETH. 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.