SCENE III.
Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants.
Macb.
4 noteBring 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 pronounc'd me thus5 note:
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 6 note
English epicures:
The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sagg with doubt7 note
, nor shake with fear.
-- 593 --
Enter a Servant.
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon8 note
!
Where got'st thou that goose look 9Q0571?
Ser.
There is ten thousand—
Macb.
Geese, villain?
Ser.
Soldiers, sir.
Macb.
Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lilly-liver'd boy9 note
. What soldiers, patch1 note?
Death of thy soul! 2 note
those linnen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
Ser.
The English force, so please you.
Macb.
Take thy face hence.—Seyton!—I am sick at heart,
-- 594 --
When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push
Will cheer me ever, or3 note
disseat me now.
I have liv'd long enough: 4 note
my May of life
-- 595 --
Is fall'n into the sear5 note
, the yellow leaf:9Q0573
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.
Sey.
What is your gracious pleasure?
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.
Sey.
'Tis not needed yet.
Macb.
I'll put it on.
-- 596 --
Send out more horses, 6 note
skirr the country round;
Hang those that talk of fear.—Give me mine armour.—
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.
Macb.
Cure her of that:
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;9Q0574
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
7 note
Cleanse the foul bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?
Doct.
Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
Macb.
Throw physick 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:—
-- 597 --
Come, sir, dispatch:—If thou could'st, doctor, 8 note
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,
That should applaud again.—Pull't off, I say.—
What rhubarb, senna* note, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence?—Hearest thou of them?
Doct.
Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
Makes us hear something.
Macb.
Bring it after me.—
I will not be afraid of death and bane,
'Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
Doct.
Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
Profit again should hardly draw me here.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
