| Out, damned spot, out I say! On. Two. Why then, ’tis timeto do’t. Hell is muky. Fie, my lord, a soldier and afeared? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our powe to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? | (Lady Macbeth) Come out, I command you! Hell is murky. You are a soldier, but your afraid? Why should we be scared if no one knows we did it? (To:Doctor) |
| Go prick they face and over-red thy fear, thou lily-livered boy. What soldiers, patch? Death of thy soul! Those linen cheeks of thine. Are counselors to fear What soldiers, whey-face? | (Macbeth) Go pinch your cheeks to get the color back, you coward. Your pale face will scare the other soldiers too. (to:Servant) |
| I have lived longenough. My ay of life Is fallen into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which ould accompany old age, as honor, love obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have, but in ther stead. Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath, which the poor heart would fain deny and dare no. | (Macbeth) I have lived long enough. My life is withering away like a leaf in autumn. The things that are associated with old age, love and loyal friends, i cant have. Instead i have whispered curses. My heart would gladly end my life, but i just cant do it! (to:Seyton) |
| 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 the perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart? | (Macbeth) Cant you treat a troubled mind? Take away her sadness, or use medicine to calm her brain and heart. Macbeth is speaking about Lady Macbeth. (to:doctor) |
| I have almost forgot the taste of fears. The time has been my sense would have cooled, 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 supped full with horrors. Direness familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me. | (Macbeth) I have almost forgot the taste of fear. I used to be affraid of a night-shriek, but not anymore. Horrible things have become familiar to me. (to:seyton) |
| Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player. That struts and frets his hour upon the stage. And then s heard no moe. It is a tale. Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. | Life is just an illusion. He’s comparing life to an actor because if an actor messes up he isnt given a second chance. Life is like a story told by an idiot. It has lots of noise and emotion but no signifigance. (to:messanger) |
| I ‘gin to be aweary of thsun ANd wish th’ estate o’th’ world were ow undone. Rng the alarum bell! Blow wind, come wrack, at least we’ll die with harness on our back. | (Macbeth) Says hes sick of living. He wants to see the world in chaos. (to:himself) |
| And let the angel whom thou still hast served Tell thee Macduff was from his mother’ womb. Untimely ripped. | (Macduff) Angels can tell you that I was never born. C-section. (to:macbeth) |
Act 5 Macbeth
September 2, 2019