Drum and colours. Enter MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS,
|MENTEITH||The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
His uncle Siward and the good Macduff:
Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
Excite the mortified man.
|ANGUS||Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
|CAITHNESS||Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother?|
|LENNOX||For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
Of all the gentry: there is Siward's son,
And many unrough youths that even now
Protest their first of manhood.
|MENTEITH||What does the tyrant?|
|CAITHNESS||Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
Some say he's mad; others that lesser hate him
Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.
|ANGUS||Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
Those he commands move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.
|MENTEITH||Who then shall blame
His pester'd senses to recoil and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself for being there?
|CAITHNESS||Well, march we on,
To give obedience where 'tis truly owed:
Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
And with him pour we in our country's purge
Each drop of us.
|LENNOX||Or so much as it needs,
To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.
Make we our march towards Birnam.
|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,
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.
|[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||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.|
|Seyton!--I am sick at heart,
When I behold--Seyton, I say!--This push
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!
|SEYTON||What is your gracious pleasure?|
|MACBETH||What news more?|
|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,
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,
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.
|Doctor||[Aside] Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
Profit again should hardly draw me here.
To see other scenes from the show:
|Full Text||Act III, Scene 3 A park near the palace./Act III, Scene 4 The same. A hall in the palace.|
|Act I, Scene 1 A desert place./Act I, Scene 2 A camp near Forres.||Act III, Scene 5 A heath./Act III, Scene 6 Forres. The palace.|
|Act I, Scene 3 A heath near Forres.||Act IV, Scene 1 A cavern in the middle a boiling cauldron|
|Act I, Scene 4 Forres. The palace.||Act IV, Scene 2 Fife. Macduff's castle.|
|Act I, Scene 5 Inverness Macbeth's castle.||Act IV, Scene 3 England, Before the King's palace.|
|Act I, Scene 6 Before Macbeth's castle. /Act I, Scene 7 Macbeth's castle.||Act V, Scene 1 Dunsinane. Anteroom in the castle.|
|Act II, Scene 1 Court of Macbeth's castle./Act II, Scene 2 The same.||Act V, Scene 2 The country near Dunsinane/Act V, Scene 3 Dunsinane. A room in the castle.|
|Act II, Scene 3 The same.||Act V, Scene 4Country near Birnam wood./Act V, Scene 5 Dunsinane. Within the castle.|
|Act II, Scene 4 Outside Macbeth's castle.||Act V, Scene 6 Dunsinane. Before the castle./Act V, Scene 7 Another part of the field.|
|Act III, Scene 1 Forres. The castle.||Act V, Scene 8 Another part of the field.|
|Act III, Scene 2 The palace.|
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