Page:Macbethandkingr00kembgoog.djvu/123

 Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy fear, Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch? Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face? Macbeth does indeed, and very reasonably, apprehend that the terrified aspect of the Messenger may depress the spirits of the few followers who still adhere to his cause; but, it is clear, from the angry contempt with which he treats both him and his report of the approach of Malcolm's army, that the coward's