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What's the boy Malcolm? Was he not born of women? The spirits that know all mortal consequences have pronounced me thus: "Fear not Macbeth; no man that's born of women shall e'er have power upon thee".
There is ten thousand soldiers; it's the English force.
All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported.
Send out moe horses, skirr the country round; hang those that talk of hear. Give me mine armor. How does you patient, doctor?
Not so sick my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, that keep her from her rest. Therein the patient, must minister to himself.
Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it.
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