I have lived long enough: my way of life Enter Seyton. Sey. What's your gracious pleasure? Macb. What news more? 30 Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported. Macb. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hack'd. Sey. Give me my armour. Macb. I'll put it on. Doct. Macb. 'Tis not needed yet. Send out moe horses, skirr the country round; Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour. Not so sick, my lord, As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, That keep her from her rest. Cure her of that. Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Doct. Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Must minister to himself. Therein the patient 51 Macb. Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it. of them? Hear'st thou Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation Macb. Bring it after me. 60 and clear, I will not be afraid of death and bane Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. Doct. [Aside] Were I from Dunsinane away Profit again should hardly draw me here. [Exeunt. Scene IV. Country near Birnam wood. Drum and colours. Enter Malcolm, old Siward and his Son, Macduff, Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox, Mal. Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand Ment. That chambers will be safe. We doubt it nothing. The wood of Birnam. Siw. What wood is this before us? Mal. Let every soldier hew him down a bough, And bear 't before him: thereby shall we shadow Soldiers. It shall be done. Siw. We learn no other but the confident tyrant Mal. 'Tis his main hope: 10 For where there is advantage to be given, Macd. Siw. Let our just censures The time approaches, Attend the true event, and put we on Industrious soldiership. That will with due decision make us know 20 Scene V. Dunsinane. Within the castle. Enter Macbeth, Seyton, and Soldiers, with drum and The colours. Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward walls; Were they not forced with those that should be ours, [A cry of women within. What is that noise? Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord. [Exit. The time has been, my senses would have cool'd 10 As life were in 't: I have supp'd full with horrors; Re-enter Seyton. Wherefore was that cry? Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead. Macb. She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. And then is heard no more: it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 20 |