Act V, Scene 2 Quotes — Macbeth

Now does he feel / His secret murders sticking on his hands; / Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach; / Those he commands move only in command, / Nothing in love: now does he feel his title / Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe / Upon a dwarfish thief.

He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause / Within the belt of rule.

Meet we the med'cine of the sickly weal; / And with him pour we, in our country's purge, / Each drop of us.