Macbeth (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
The Tragedie of Macbeth.
149
¶Within the belt of Rule.
¶Ang. Now do's he feele
¶Now minutely Reuolts vpbraid his Faith-breach:
¶Those he commands, moue onely in command,
¶Nothing in loue: Now do's he feele his Title
¶Hang loose about him, like a Giants Robe
2200Vpon a dwarfish Theefe.
¶When all that is within him, do's condemne
¶It selfe, for being there.
2205Cath. Well, march we on,
¶To giue Obedience, where 'tis truly ow'd:
¶Meet we the Med'cine of the sickly Weale,
¶And with him poure we in our Countries purge,
¶Each drop of vs.
¶To dew the Soueraigne Flower, and drowne the Weeds:
¶Make we our March towards Birnan.
Exeunt marching.
¶
Scæna Tertia.
¶
Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants.
2215Macb. Bring me no more Reports, let them flye all:
¶Till Byrnane wood remoue to Dunsinane,
¶I cannot taint with Feare. What's the Boy Malcolme?
¶Was he not borne of woman? The Spirits that know
¶All mortall Consequences, haue pronounc'd me thus:
2220Feare not Macbeth, no man that's borne of woman
¶Shall ere haue power vpon thee. Then fly false Thanes,
¶And mingle with the English Epicures,
¶The minde I sway by, and the heart I beare,
2225
Enter Seruant.
¶The diuell damne thee blacke, thou cream-fac'd Loone:
2230Ser. Souldiers Sir.
¶Macb. Go pricke thy face, and ouer-red thy feare
¶Thou Lilly-liuer'd Boy. What Soldiers, Patch?
¶Death of thy Soule, those Linnen cheekes of thine
¶Are Counsailers to feare. What Soldiers Whay-face?
¶Will cheere me euer, or dis-eate me now.
¶I haue liu'd long enough: my way of life
2240Is falne into the Seare, the yellow Leafe,
¶And that which should accompany Old-Age,
¶As Honor, Loue, Obedience, Troopes of Friends,
¶Curses, not lowd but deepe, Mouth-honor, breath
2245Which the poore heart would faine deny, and dare not.
¶Seyton?
¶
Enter Seyton.
¶Macb. What Newes more?
2250Sey. All is confirm'd my Lord, which was reported.
¶Giue me my Armor.
¶Seyt. 'Tis not needed yet.
¶Macb. Ile put it on:
¶Hang those that talke of Feare. Giue me mine Armor:
¶How do's your Patient, Doctor?
¶As she is troubled with thicke-comming Fancies
2260That keepe her from her rest.
¶Macb. Cure of that:
¶Plucke from the Memory a rooted Sorrow,
¶Raze out the written troubles of the Braine,
¶Which weighes vpon the heart?
¶Doct. Therein the Patient
¶Come, put mine Armour on: giue me my Staffe:
¶Seyton, send out: Doctor, the Thanes flye from me:
¶I would applaud thee to the very Eccho,
¶What Rubarb, Cyme, or what Purgatiue drugge
2280Doct. I my good Lord: your Royall Preparation
¶Makes vs heare something.
¶Macb. Bring it after me:
¶I will not be affraid of Death and Bane,
¶Profit againe should hardly draw me heere.
Exeunt
¶
Scena Quarta.
¶
Drum and Colours. Enter Malcolme, Seyward, Macduffe,
¶That Chambers will be safe.
¶Ment. We doubt it nothing.
¶Syew. What wood is this before vs?
2295Ment. The wood of Birnane.
¶Malc. Let euery Souldier hew him downe a Bough,
¶Erre in report of vs.
¶Syw. We learne no other, but the confident Tyrant
¶Our setting downe befor't.
¶Malc. 'Tis his maine hope:
2305For where there is aduantage to be giuen,
2310Attend the true euent, and put we on
Industrious
