« AnteriorContinuar »
Shall e'er have power upon thee. Then fly, false thanes,
Enter a Servant.
look ? SERV. There is ten thousandMACB.
Geese, villain ? SERV.
Soldiers, sir. MacB. 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?
Serv. The English force, so please you.
Seyton -I am sick at heart,
What news more?
Sey. All is confirm’d, my lord, which was re
flesh be hack'd. Give me my armour, 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. 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. МАСв. .
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 stuff4d bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct
Therein the patient 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. 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 ? Doct. Ay, my good lord ; your royal preparation Makes us hear something. МАСв. .
Bring it after me. I will not be afraid of death and bane, Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. Doct. [Aside] Were I from Dunsinane away and
clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here. (Exeunt.
Country near Birnam wood. Drum and colours. Enter MALCOLM, old SIWARD
and his Son, MACDUFF, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS, ANGUS, LENNOX, Ross, and Soldiers, marching.
MAL. Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand
We doubt it nothing.
The wood of Birnam.
every soldier hew him down a bough And bear't before him : thereby shall we shadow The numbers of our host and make discovery Err in report of us. SOLDIERS.
It shall be done. Siw. We learn no other but the confident tyrant Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure Our setting down before 't. MAL.
'Tis his main hope: For where there is advantage to be given,
Both more and less have given him the revolt,
Let our just censures
The time approaches
drum and colours.
[A cry of women within.
What is that noise ? Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
MacB. I have almost forgot the taste of fears: The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir
Wherefore was that cry? Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.
MACB, She should have died hereafter;
Enter a Messenger.
Well, say, sir.
Liar and slave!