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Click on the verses to see them in context. Shakespeare's plays are available from the Gutenberg Projet.

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And towards London do they bend their power,

 Bruis'd underneath the yoke of tyranny, South from the mighty power of the king. With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd, 
  • If you do sweat to put a tyrant down,
 Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror; And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed; Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman Shall e'er have power upon thee.--Then fly, false thanes, Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? For a charm of powerful trouble, We learn no other but the confident tyrant When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. And part in just proportion our small power.--