Table of Contents
ACT 5, SCENE 3
Setting: Dunsinane. A room in the castle.
[Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants]
| MACBETH | Bring me no more reports; let them fly all: | |
| Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane, | ||
| I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm? | ||
| Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know | ||
| All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus: | ||
| Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman | ||
| 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. | 10 | |
| [Enter a Servant] | ||
| The devil damn thee black, thou cream–faced loon! | ||
| Where got'st thou that goose look? | ||
| Servant | There is ten thousand–– | |
| MACBETH | Geese, villain! | |
| Servant | Soldiers, sir. | |
| MACBETH | Go prick thy face, and over–red thy fear, | |
| Thou lily–liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch? | ||
| Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine | ||
| Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey–face? | ||
| Servant | The English force, so please you. | |
| MACBETH | Take thy face hence. | |
| [Exit Servant] | ||
| Seyton!––I am sick at heart, | ||
| When I behold––Seyton, I say!––This push | 20 | |
| Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now. | ||
| I have lived long enough: my way of life | ||
| Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf, | ||
| 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, | ||
| Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. Seyton! | ||
| [Enter SEYTON] | ||
| SEYTON | What is your gracious pleasure? | |
| MACBETH | What news more? | 30 |
| SEYTON | All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported. | |
| MACBETH | I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd. | |
| Give me my armour. | ||
| SEYTON | Tis not needed yet. | |
| MACBETH | I'll put it on. | |
| Send out more horses; skirr the country round; | ||
| Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour. | ||
| How does your patient, doctor? | ||
| Doctor | Not so sick, my lord, | |
| As she is troubled with thick coming fancies, | ||
| That keep her from her rest. | ||
| MACBETH | Cure her of that. | |
| Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, | 40 | |
| Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, | ||
| Raze out the written troubles of the brain | ||
| And with some sweet oblivious antidote | ||
| Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff | ||
| Which weighs upon the heart? | ||
| Doctor | Therein the patient | |
| Must minister to himself. | ||
| MACBETH | 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. | ||
| Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, cast | ||
| The water of my land, find her disease, | 50 | |
| And purge it to a sound and pristine health, | ||
| I would applaud thee to the very echo, | ||
| That should applaud again.––Pull't off, I say.–– | ||
| What rhubarb, cyme, or what purgative drug, | ||
| Would scour these English hence? Hear'st thou of them? | ||
| Doctor | Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation | |
| Makes us hear something. | ||
| MACBETH | Bring it after me. | |
| I will not be afraid of death and bane, | ||
| Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. | 60 | |
| Doctor | [Aside] Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, | |
| Profit again should hardly draw me here. | ||
| [Exeunt] |