by: William Shakespeare

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     Seyton!—I am sick at heart,
When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
I have lived long enough. My way of life
25Is fall'n into the sere, the yellow leaf,
And that which should accompany old age,
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have, but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honor, breath
30Which the poor heart would fain deny and dare not.
Seyton!—I’m sick at heart when I see—Seyton, come here!—This battle will either secure my reign forever or else topple me from the throne. I have lived long enough. The course of my life is beginning to wither and fall away, like a yellowing leaf in autumn. The things that should go along with old age, like honor, love, obedience, and loyal friends, I cannot hope to have. Instead, I have passionate but quietly whispered curses, people who honor me with their words but not in their hearts, and lingering life, which my heart would gladly end, though I can’t bring myself to do it. Seyton!
SEYTON enters.
     What’s your gracious pleasure?
What do you want?
     What news more?
Is there more news?
All is confirmed, my lord, which was reported.
All the rumors have been confirmed.
I’ll fight till from my bones my flesh be hacked.
Give me my armor.
I’ll fight until they hack the flesh off my bones. Give me my armor.
35'Tis not needed yet.
You don’t need it yet.
I’ll put it on.
Send out more horses. Skirr the country round.
Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armor.
How does your patient, doctor?
I’ll put it on anyway. Send out more cavalry. Scour the whole country and hang anyone spreading fear. Give me my armor. (to the DOCTOR) How is my wife, doctor?
     Not so sick, my lord,
40As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies
That keep her from her rest.
She is not sick, my lord, but she is troubled with endless visions that keep her from sleeping.

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