Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Sey. What's your gracious pleasure?
Macb. Macb.
Macb. What Newes more?
Sey. Sey.
Sey. All is confirm'd my Lord, which was reported.
Macb. Ile fight, till from my bones, my flesh be hackt.
Macb. Giue me my Armor.
Seyt. Seyt.
Seyt. 'Tis not needed yet.
Macb. Ile put it on:
Macb. Send out moe Horses, skirre the Country round,
Macb. Hang those that talke of Feare. Giue me mine Armor:
Macb. How do's your Patient, Doctor?
Doct. Doct.
Doct. Not so sicke my Lord,
Doct. As she is troubled with thicke‑comming Fancies
Doct. That keepe her from her rest.