Macb. Geese, villain?

Serv. Soldiers, sir.

I am sick at heart,

Macb. 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?
Serv. The English force, so please you.
Macb. Take thy face hence.. Seyton!
When I behold-Seyton, I say! - This push
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
I have lived long enough: my way of life
Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honor, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.
Seyton ! -

[Enter Seyton.]

Seyton. 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 armor.

Sey. 'Tis not needed yet.

Macb. I'll put it on.

Send out more horses, skirr the country round;

Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armor.

How does your patient, doctor?

Doctor. Not so sick, my lord,

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 diseased,

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. Therein the patient

Must minister to himself.

Macb. Throw physic to the dogs; I'll none of it.--
Come put mine armor on; give me my staff.-
Seyton, send out. - Doctor, the thanes fly from me.-
If thou couldst, 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.

What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug,

Would scour these English hence?

Hear'st thou of them?

Doct. Ay, my good lord: your royal preparation Makes us hear something.

Macb. I will not be afraid of death and bane, Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.

Macb. Hang out our banners: on the outward walls The cry is, still, "They come !" Our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie,

Till famine and the ague eat them up.

Were they not forced with those that should be ours,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home. What is that noise?
Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears.
The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
To hear a night-shriek; and my fell of hair,
Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir,

As life were in't. I have supp'd full with horrors: Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts,

Cannot once start me.

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.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

[Enter a Messenger.]

Thou com❜st to use thy tongue; thy story, quickly.

Messenger. Gracious my lord,

I shall report that which I

But know not how to do 't.

Macb. Well,

say, sir.

say

I saw,

Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,

The wood began to move.

Macb. Liar and slave!

Mess. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so, Within this three miles may you see it coming; I say, a moving grove.

Mach. If thou speak'st false,

Upon the next tree shall thou hang alive,

Till famine cling thee: if thy speech be sooth,

I care not if thou dost for me as much.

I pull in resolution, and begin

-

To doubt th' equivocation of the fiend,

That lies like truth: "Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane; "-and now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and out !—
If this, which he avouches, doth appear,
There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here.
I'gin to be aweary of the sun,

And wish th' estate o' the world were now undone.
Ring the alarum bell!-Blow, wind! come, rack!
At least we'll die with harness on our back.

SHAKSPERE.

PRIULI AND JAFFIER.

Pri. No more! I'll hear no more! Begone and leave me.
Jaff. Not hear me! by my sufferings but you shall!

My lord, my lord! I'm not that abject wretch
You think me. Patience! where's the distance throws
Me back so far, but I may boldly speak

In right, though proud oppression will not hear me!
Pri. Have you not wrong'd me?

Jaff. Could my nature e'er

Have brook'd injustice, or the doing wrong,

I need not now thus low have bent myself

To gain a hearing from a cruel father.
Wrong'd you!

Pri. Yes, wrong'd me. In the nicest point,
The honour of my house, you've done me wrong.

When you first came home from travel,
With such hopes as made you look'd on
By all men's eyes a youth of expectation,
Pleased with your seeming virtue, I received you:
Courted and sought to raise you to your merits;

My house, my table, nay my fortune too,

My very self was yours: you might have used me best service like an open friend

To

your

I treated, trusted you, and thought you mine,
When in requital of my best endeavours,
You treacherously practised to undo me:
Seduced the weakness of my age's darling,
My only child, and stole her from my bosom
Jaff. "Tis to me you owe her;

Childless you had been else, and in the grave
Your name extinct; no more Priuli heard of.
You may remember, scarce five years are past
Since in your brigantine you sail'd to see
The Adriatic wedded by our Duke;
And I was with you. Your unskilful pilot
Dash'd us upon a rock; when to our boat
You made for safety; enter'd first yourself;
The affrighted Belvidera, following next,
As she stood trembling on the vessel's side,
Was by a wave wash'd off into the deep;
When instantly I plunged into the sea,
And buffeting the billows to her rescue,
Redeem'd her life with half the loss of mine.
Like a rich conquest, in one hand I bore her,
And with the other dash'd the saucy waves,
That throng'd and press'd to rob me of my prize.
I brought her; gave her to your despairing arms;
Indeed you thank'd me; but a nobler gratitude
Rose in her soul, for from that hour she loved me;
Till for her life, she paid me with herself.

Pri You stole her from me, like a thief you stole her At dead of night; that dreary hour you chose

To rifle me of all my heart held dear.

May all your joys in her prove false as mine;

A sterile fortune, and a barren bed,

Attend you both; continual discord, make