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Macbeth

Act V, Scene 3

Dunsinane. A room in the castle.
 
[Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants]
 
MACBETH
        ,             ,        ,                 ,   ,
      Bring me | no more | reports,| let them / fly all:
            ,        ,        ,        ,      ,
      Till Bir|nam wood | remove | to Dun|sinane,
         ,        ,            ,          2     ,     ,
      I can|not taint | with fear.| What's the boy | Malcolm?
       ,    2        ,        ,             x             ,
      Was he not | born of | woman?| The spirits | that know
           ,       ,      ,     3    3      ,           ,
5     All mor|tal con|sequen|ces have pronounced | me thus:
             ,         ,        ,             ,        ,     2->
      Fear* not | Macbeth,| no man | that's born | of wo||man
             ,           x       ,                  ,    ,         ,  ->
      Shall ere | have power | upon | thee. Then / fly false || Thanes,
             ,           2     ,        ,    ,
      And | mingle | with the En|glish ep|icures,
            ,        ,         ,          ,         ,
      The mind | I sway | by, and | the heart | I bear,
             ,      ,           ,           ,            ,
10    Shall ne|ver sag | with doubt,| nor shake | with fear.
           ,       ,           ,            ,            ,
      The de|vil damn | thee black,| thou cream-|faced^loon:
              ,       ,           T     T
      Where gotst | thou that | goose look?
 
SERVANT
                                             T         ,       ,      ->
                                           There | is ten || thousand--
 
MACBETH
       ___     ,
      Geese | villain?
 
SERVANT
                        ,         ___
15                     Soldiers | sir.
 
MACBETH
           ,           ,        ,      ,          ,
      Go prick | thy face,| and o|ver-red | thy fear,
            ,     ,        ,          ,           ,
      Thou li|ly-li|vered boy.| What sol|diers, patch?
        ,              ,           ,        ,          ,
      Death of | thy soul,| those li|nen cheeks | of thine
            ,       ,         ,          ,          ,      ,  ->
      Are coun|sellors | to fear.| What sol|diers whey-||face?
 
SERVANT
             ,          ,            ,
20    The | English | force, so | please you.
 
MACBETH
      <-  ,           T    T     T       ,        ,         ,
        Take thy || face hence. Sey|ton, I | am sick | at heart,
           ,       ,     ,          ,           ,
      When I | behold:| Seyton,| I say,| this push
             ,        ,       ,        ,        ,
      Will cheer | me e|ver, or | disseat | me now.
                 ,     ,       ,         ,         ,
      I have / lived long | enough:| my way | of life
          ,       ,   2      ,         ,        ,
25    Is fal|len in|to the sear,| the yel|low leaf;
            ,             ,        ,          ,   ,
      And that | which should | accom|pany / old age,
          ,        ,      ,   2        ,           ,
      As ho|nor, love,| obe|dience, troops | of friends,
          ,          ,         ,         ,           ,
      I must | not look | to have:| but in | their stead,
       ,             ,     .    T     T    T         ,
      Curses,| not loud | but deep, mouth ho|nor, breath
           2      ,      ,             ,      ,          ,
30    Which the poor | heart would | fain de|ny, and | dare not.
       ,
      Seyton?
 
SEYTON
                 ,           ,           ,
              What's your | gracious | pleasure?
 
MACBETH
                                                        ,          ->
                                                 What news | more*?
 
SEYTON
       ,      2     ,           ,           ,       ,      2->
      All | is confirmed | my lord,| which was | repor||ted.
 
MACBETH
             ,            ,         ,          ,           ,
      I'll fight,| till from | my bones,| my flesh | be hacked.
        ,           ,
35    Give me | my ar|mor.
 
SEYTON
                            ,         ,       ,
                          'Tis | not nee|ded yet.
 
MACBETH
            ,        ,     T   T    T     ,
      I'll put | it on:| Send out more | horses,
        ,           ,         T      T    T
      Skirr the | country | round, hang those
      <-       ,          ,      ,             ,      o
        That talk || of fear.| Give me | mine^ar|mor:
            ,           ,         ,
40    How does || your pa|tient, doc|tor?
 
DOCTOR
                                           ,         ,         ,
                                          Not | so sick | my lord,
          ,         ,      2       ,      ,        ,
      As she | is trou|bled with thick | coming | fancies
             ,          ,          ,
      That keep | her from | her rest.
 
MACBETH
                                        ,        __
                                      Cure of | that:
              ,         ,     ,      2    ,         ,
45    Canst^thou | not mi|nister | to a mind | diseased,
        ,       2       ,    ,      ,        ,
      Pluck from the | memo|ry a | rooted | sorrow,
            ,          ,        ,        ,         ,
      Raze^out | the writ|ten trou|bles of | the brain,
            ,           ,        ,   2    ,     ,
      And with | some sweet | obli|vious an|tidote
         ,             ,     ,                 ,   2      ,
      Cleanse the | stuffed bo/som, of | that pe|rilous stuff
               ,       ,          ,
50    Which weighs | upon | the heart?
 
DOCTOR
                                         ,    2       ,
                                       Therein the | patient
        ,   ,           ,      __    oo
      Must min/ister | to him|self.|
 
MACBETH
        ,    ,                 ,           ,        ,
      Throw phy/sic to | the dogs,| I'll none | of it.
        ,               ,      ,     ,            ,
      Come, put | mine ar|mor on:| give me | my staff:
       ,             ,     ,              ,      ,      2
55    Seyton,| send^out:| Doctor,| the Thanes | fly from me:
        ,             ,          ,             ,         ,
      Come sir,| dispatch.| If thou | couldst doc|tor, cast
           ,      ,        ,      ,            ,
      The wa|ter of | my land,| find her | disease,
            ,         ,       ,      .   T    T     T
      And purge | it to | a sound | and pristine health,
      ,      2     ,     ,              ,     ,
      I would ap|plaud thee / to the | very | echo,
              ,         ,        ,        2    ,       ,
60    That should | applaud | again.| Pull it off | I say,
            ,          ,         ,     ,           ,
      What rhu|barb, cyme,| or what | purga|tive drug
              ,            ,         ,        ,           ,
      Would scour | these En|glish hence:| Hearst thou | of them?
 
DOCTOR
       ,               ,          ,      ,     ,      ->
      Aye my | good* lord:| your roy|al pre|para||tion
        ,          ,      ,
      Makes | us hear | something.
 
MACBETH
                                   ,         ,   2
65                               Bring it | after me:
          ,         ,      ,          ,           ,
      I will | not be | afraid | of death | and bane,
            ,       ,        ,        ,      ,
      Till Bir|nam fo|rest come | to Dun|sinane.
 
DOCTOR [Aside]
           ,         ,      ,      ,          ,
      Were I | from Dun|sinane | away,| and clear,
       ,          ,             ,       ,         ,
      Profit | again | should hard|ly draw | me here.
 
[Exeunt]

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