Shortened version of “To be thus is nothing”

“Upon my head they plac’d a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
Thence to be wrench’d with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If ‘t be so,
For Banquo’s issue have i fil’d my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder’d;
Put rancors in the vessel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man
To make them kings, the seeds of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come fait into the list,
And champion me to th’ utterence!”