How does your patient, doctor? DOCTOR Not so sick, my lord, As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies That keep her from her rest. MACBETH Cure her of that. 40 Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain, And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart?
