Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale :-I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his grave. Doct. Even so ?

hand;

Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your What's done, cannot be undone: To bed, to bed, to bed. [Exit Lady MACBETH.

Doct. Will she go now to bed?

Gent. Directly.

Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad: Unnatural deeds

Do breed unnatural troubles: Infected minds
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
More needs she the divine, than the physician.—
God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her:-So, good night:
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight:
I think, but dare not speak.

Gent.

Good night, good doctor.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Country near Dunsinane.

Enter, with Drum and Colours, MENTETH, CATH NESS, ANGUS, LENOX, and Soldiers.

Ment. The English power is near, led on by Malcolm,

7 Confounded.

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.8

Ang.

Near Birnam wood

Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming. Cath. Who knows, if Donalbain be with his brother?

Len. For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file Of all the gentry; there is Siward's son,

9

And many unrough youths, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.

Ment.

What does the tyrant?

Cath. 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.

Ang.
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.

Ment.

Who then shall blame

His pester'd senses to recoil, and start,

When all that is within him does condemn

Itself, for being there?

Cath.

Well, march we on,

To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd:

8 A religious; an ascetic.

9 Unbearded.

Meet we the medecin' of the sickly weal;
And with him pour we, in our country's purge,
Each drop of us.

Len.

Or so much as it needs,

To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds. Make we our march towards Birnam.

[Exeunt, marching.

SCENE III.

Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.

Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants. Macb. 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 consequents, pronounc'd me thus :
Fear not, Macbeth; no man, that's born of woman,
Shall e'er have power on thee.- -Then fly, false
thanes,

And mingle with the English epicures:

The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sagg2 with doubt, nor shake with fear.

Enter a Servant.

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon!3 Where got'st thou that goose look ?

Serv. There is ten thousand

Macb.

Serv.

Geese, villain?

Soldiers, sir.

Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,

I The physician

2 Sink.

3 Base fellow.

Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch ?4
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
Serv. The English force, so please you.

Macb. 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 liv'd 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, but 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.

Scy.

Macb. I'll put it on.

'Tis not needed yet.

Send out more horses, skirr the country round;

Hang those that talk of fear.-Give me mine ar

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;
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?

Doct.

Must minister to himself.

Therein the patient

:

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:Come, sir, despatch:-If thou could'st, 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, senna, 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.

1

I will not be afraid of death and bane,

Bring it after me.

[Exit.

Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,

Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

Profit again should hardly draw me here.

[Exit,