Macbeth William Shakespeare (ereader with android .txt) š
- Author: William Shakespeare
Book online Ā«Macbeth William Shakespeare (ereader with android .txt) šĀ». Author William Shakespeare
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 amazed my sight.
I think, but dare not speak.
The country near Dunsinane.
Drum and colours. Enter Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox, and Soldiers. MenteithThe English power is near, led on by Malcolm,
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.
Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
Of all the gentry: there is Siwardās son,
And many unrough youths that even now
Protest their first of manhood.
Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
Some say heās mad; others that lesser hate him
Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemperād cause
Within the belt of rule.
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 giantās robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.
Who then shall blame
His pesterād senses to recoil and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself for being there?
Well, march we on,
To give obedience where ātis truly owed:
Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
And with him pour we in our countryās purge
Each drop of us.
Or so much as it needs,
To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds.
Make we our march towards Birnam. Exeunt, marching.
Dunsinane. A room in the castle.
Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants. MacbethBring me no more reports; let them fly all:
Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,
I cannot taint with fear. Whatās the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
All mortal consequences have pronounced me thus:
āFear not, Macbeth; no man thatās born of woman
Shall eāer have power upon thee.ā 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.
The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!
Where gotāst thou that goose look?
Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear,
Thou lily-liverād boy. What soldiers, patch?
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
Take thy face hence. Exit Servant. Seyton!ā āI am sick at heart,
When I beholdā āSeyton, I say!ā āThis push
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
I have lived long enough: my way of life
Is fallān into the sear, the yellow leaf;
And
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