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     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 stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?
Cure her of that. Can’t you treat a diseased mind? Take away her memory of sorrow? Use some drug to erase the troubling thoughts from her brain and ease her heart?

     Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
For that kind of relief, the patient must heal herself.



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.
Come, sir, dispatch.—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.—Pull ’t off, I say.—
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence? Hear’st thou of them?
Medicine is for the dogs. I won’t have anything to do with it. (to SEYTON) Come, put my armor on me. Give me my lance. Seyton, send out the soldiers. (to the DOCTOR) Doctor, the thanes are running away from me. (to SEYTON) Come on, sir, hurry. (to the DOCTOR) Can you figure out what’s wrong with my country? If you can diagnose its disease by examining its urine, and bring it back to health, I will praise you to the ends of the Earth, where the sound will echo back so you can hear the applause again.—(to SEYTON) Pull it off, I tell you. (to the DOCTOR) What drug would purge the English from this country? Have you heard of any?

Ay, my good lord. Your royal preparation
Makes us hear something.
Yes, my good lord. Your preparation for war sounds like something.

     Bring it after me.
I will not be afraid of death and bane,
Till Birnam Forest come to Dunsinane.
(to SEYTON) Bring the armor and follow me. I will not be afraid of death and destruction until Birnam forest picks itself up and moves to Dunsinane.

(aside) Were I from Dunsinane away and clear,
Profit again should hardly draw me here.
(to himself) I wish I were far away from Dunsinane. You couldn’t pay me to come back here.
They exit.

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Macbeth (No Fear Shakespeare)