Enter Malcolm and Siward
SIWARD This way, my lord. The castle’s gently rendered.
The tyrant’s people on both sides do fight.
The noble thanes do bravely in the war.
The day almost itself professes yours,
And little is to do.
MALCOLM We have met with foes
That strike beside us.
SIWARD Enter, sir, the castle.
Exeunt. Alarum (5.9.1-6)
Short and functional, but utterly brilliant dramaturgy in the way it builds suspense. There’s been the short scene between Macbeth and Young Siward, at the end of which Young Siward is killed – around fifteen lines long, plus a (short) fight. Then a ten-line from Macduff. We might expect this next scene, then, to be Macbeth again, and so the fight with Macduff to which this is all leading, one entering at each door. No—this is Malcolm and Siward. So is Siward going to hear the news of his son’s death? No, that hasn’t been communicated yet. More suspense.
What’s here then? News that Malcolm’s side has almost won, but not quite—and they’ve won because Macbeth’s forces have laid down their arms and surrendered. This hasn’t been a bloodbath, wholesale slaughter, it seems: the castle’s gently rendered, they’ve given up without a fight. The tyrant’s people—tyrant again, making it clear, not the rightful king—on both sides do fight. A lot of them have come over to us. And the noble thanes do bravely in the war, so, there’s a bit of proper fighting going on, still, and the Scottish nobles, those who will be Malcolm’s key supporters and allies, they’re acquitting themselves well. The day almost itself professes yours, and little is to do. Not quite though; almost, a little at least. Still some mopping up. (The day is yours—or ours—is a common idiom for victory, but here it is also a reminder that the play has been dominated by night and darkness. This victory will be a new day.) Although they’re not saying what remains to be done, the audience knows: Macbeth himself. We have met with foes that strike beside us, our so-called enemies fighting on our side (or perhaps, who deliberately miss us with their blows, those reluctant mercenaries and sad conscripts, Malcolm confirms, perhaps jubilant, perhaps just quietly impressed, a bit incredulous at how comparatively easy this has been. The way in which the fight’s unfolded confirm the rightness of his cause. So, enter, sir, the castle. Take possession of your own. We’re almost there; this is almost finished, almost done. But still alarum, the fight’s not quite over yet.
