Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not.
Seyton!
Seyton!—I'm sick at heart when I
see—Seyton, come here!—This battle will
either secure my reign forever or else topple me from the throne. I
have lived long enough. The course of my life is beginning to wither
and fall away, like a yellowing leaf in autumn. The things that
should go along with old age, like honor, love, obedience, and loyal
friends, I cannot hope to have. Instead, I have passionate but
quietly whispered curses, people who honor me with their words but
not in their hearts, and lingering life, which my heart would gladly
end, though I can't bring myself to do it. Seyton!
Enter SEYTON
SEYTON enters.
SEYTON
What's
your gracious pleasure?
SEYTON
What do you want?
MACBETH
What
news more?
MACBETH
Is there more news?
SEYTON
All is confirmed, my lord, which was reported.
SEYTON
All the rumors have been confirmed.
MACBETH
I'll fight till from my bones my flesh be hacked.
Give me my armor.
MACBETH
I'll fight until they hack the flesh off my bones. Give
me my armor.
SEYTON
35
'Tis not needed yet.
SEYTON
You don't need it yet.
MACBETH
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?
MACBETH
I'll put it on anyway. Send out more cavalry. Scour the
whole country and hang anyone spreading fear. Give me my armor.
(to the DOCTOR) How is my wife, doctor?
DOCTOR
Not
so sick, my lord,
40
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies
That keep her from her rest.
DOCTOR
She is not sick, my lord, but she is troubled with endless visions
that keep her from sleeping.
