Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. | |
| |
Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants. | |
| Macb. Bring me no more reports; let them fly all: | |
| Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane | 4 |
| I cannot taint with fear. What’s the boy Malcolm? | |
| Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know | |
| All mortal consequences have pronounc’d me thus: | |
| ‘Fear not, Macbeth; no man that’s born of woman | 8 |
| Shall e’er have power upon thee.’ Then fly, false thanes, | |
| And mingle with the English epicures: | |
| The mind I sway by and the heart I bear | |
| Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear. | 12 |
| |
Enter a Servant. | |
| The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac’d loon! | |
| Where gott’st thou that goose look? | |
| Serv. There is ten thousand— | 16 |
| Macb. Geese, villain? | |
| Serv. Soldiers, sir. | |
| Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, | |
| Thou lily-liver’d boy. What soldiers, patch? | 20 |
| Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine | |
| Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, wheyface? | |
| Serv. The English force, so please you. | |
| Macb. Take thy face hence. [Exit Servant.] Seyton!—I am sick at heart | 24 |
| When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push | |
| Will cheer me ever or disseat me now. | |
| I have liv’d long enough: my way of life | |
| Is fall’n into the sear, the yellow leaf; | 28 |
| And that which should accompany old age, | |
| As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, | |
| I must not look to have; but, in their stead, | |
| Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, | 32 |
| Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. | |
| Seyton! | |
| |
Enter SEYTON. | |
| Sey. What is your gracious pleasure? | 36 |
| Macb. What news more? | |
| Sey. All is confirm’d, my lord, which was reported. | |
| Macb. I’ll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack’d. | |
| Give me my armour. | 40 |
| Sey. ’Tis not needed yet. | |
| Macb. I’ll put it on. | |
| Send out more horses, skirr the country round; | |
| Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour. | 44 |
| How does your patient, doctor? | |
| Doct. Not so sick, my lord, | |
| As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, | |
| That keep her from her rest. | 48 |
| Macb. Cure her of that: | |
| Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas’d, | |
| Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, | |
| Raze out the written troubles of the brain, | 52 |
| And with some sweet oblivious antidote | |
| Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuff | |
| Which weighs upon the heart? | |
| Doct. Therein the patient | 56 |
| Must minister to himself. | |
| Macb. Throw physic to the dogs; I’ll none of it. | |
| Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff. | |
| Seyton, send out.—Doctor, the thanes fly from me.— | 60 |
| Come, sir, dispatch.—If thou couldst, doctor, cast | |
| The water of my land, find her disease, | |
| And purge it to a sound and pristine health, | |
| I would applaud thee to the very echo, | 64 |
| That should applaud again.—Pull’t off, I say.— | |
| What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug | |
| Would scour these English hence? Hear’st thou of them? | |
| Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation | 68 |
| Makes us hear something. | |
| Macb. Bring it after me. | |
| I will not be afraid of death and bane | |
| Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. | 72 |
| Doct. [Aside.] Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, | |
| Profit again should hardly draw me here. [Exeunt. | |