3. SCENE III. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.
[Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants.]
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 pronounc'd me thus,--
"Fear not, Macbeth; no man that's born of woman
Shall e'er have power upon thee."--Then fly, false thanes,
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-fac'd loon!
Where gott'st thou that goose look?
There is ten thousand--
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?
The English force, so please you.
Take thy face hence.
Seyton!--I am sick at heart,
When I behold--Seyton, I say!- This push
Will chair 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, and dare not.
What's your gracious pleasure?
What news more?
All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd.
Give me my armour.