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L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do Sun. Thou liest, thou shag-eared villain. for a father?

Mur. What, you egg? [Stabbing him. Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband ? Young fry of treachery? L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any Son. He has killed me, mother: market. Run away, I pray you.

[Dies. Son. Then you 'll buy 'em to sell again.

[Exit Lady Macduff, crying Murder," L. Macd. Thou speak’st with all thy wit; and

and pursued by the Murderers. yet, i' faith, With wit enough for thee.

Son. Was my father a traitor, mother?
L. Macd. Ay, that he was.

Scene III.- England. A Room in the King's Son. What is a traitor ?

Palace.
L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies.
Son. And be all traitors that do so?

Enter Malcolm and Macduff. L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor, Mal. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and and must be hanged.

there Son. And must they all be hanged that swear Weep our sad bosoms empty. and lie?

Macd. Let us rather L. Macd. Every one.

Hold fast the mortal sword; and, like good men, Son. Who must hang them?

Bestride onr down-fall’n birthdom : each new L. Macd. Why, the honest men.

morn, Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools: for | New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorthere are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men, and hang up them.

Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds L. Macd. Now God help thee, poor monkey! | As if it felt with Scotland, and yelled out But how wilt thou do for a father?

Like syllable of dolour. Son. If he were dead, you 'd weep for him: if Mal. What I believe, I 'll wail ; you would not, it were a good sign that I should What know, believe; and what I can redress, quickly have a new father.

As I shall find the time to friend, I will. L. Macd. Poor prattler ? how thou talk'st. What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.

This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, Enter a Messenger.

Was once thought honest: you have loved him Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you

well; known,

He hath not touched you yet. I am young; but Though in your state of honour I am perfect.

something I doubt some danger does approach you nearly: You may deserve of him through me: and wisdom If you will take a homely man's advice,

To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb,
Be not found here; hence with your little ones. | To appease an angry god.
To fright you thus, methinks I am too savage; Macd. I am not treacherous.
To do worse to you were fell cruelty,

Mal. But Macbeth is.
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven pre A good and virtuous nature may recoil,
serve you!

In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your I dare abide no longer. [Exit Messenger.

pardon; L. Macd. Whither should I fly? That which you are, my thoughts cannot transI have done no harm. But I remember now

pose: I am in this earthly world; where to do harm Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell: Is often laudable; to do good, sometime

Though all things foul would wear the brows of Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas!

grace, Do I put up that womanly defence,

Yet grace must still look so. To say, I have done no harm ?-What are these Macd. I have lost my hopes. faces ?

Mal. Perchance even there where I did find

my doubts. Enter Murderers.

Why in that rawness left you wife and child Mur. Where is your husband ?

(Those precious motives, those strong knots of L. Macd. I hope, in no place so unsanctified,

love), Where such as thou mayst find him.

Without leave-taking ?-I pray you,
Mur.
He's a traitor.

Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,

But mine own safeties : you may be rightly just, In my most ill-composed affection, such
Whatever I shall think.

A stanchless avarice, that, were I king, Macd. Bleed, bleed, poor country! I should cut off the nobles for their lands; Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,

Desire his jewels, and this other's house ; For goodness dares not check thee! wear thou And my more-having would be as a sauce thy wrongs;

To make me hunger more; that I should forge Thy title is affeered !-Fare thee well, lord : Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, I would not be the villain that thou think'st Destroying them for wealth. For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, Macd. This avarice And the rich East to boot.

Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Mal. Be not offended :

Than summer-seeming lust; and it hath been I speak not as in absolute fear of you.

The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear; I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will, It weeps; it bleeds; and each new day a gash Of your mere own. All these are portable, Is added to her wounds: I think, withal, With other graces weighed. There would be hands uplifted in my right; Mal. But I have none. The king-becoming And here, from gracious England, have I offer

graces, Of goodly thousands. But, for all this,

As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, Shall have more vices than it had before;

I have no relish of them; but abound More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever, In the division of each several crime, By him that shall succeed.

Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should Macd. What should he be?

Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Mal. It is myself I mean : in whom I know Uproar the universal peace, confound
All the particulars of vice so grafted,

All unity on earth.
That, when they shall be opened, black Macbeth Macd. O, Scotland! Scotland !
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak :
Esteem him as a lamb, being compared

I am as I have spoken. With my confineless harms.

Macd. Fit to govern!
Macd. Not in the legions

No, not to live.-0, nation miserable,
Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damned With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptered,
In evils, to top Macbeth.

When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again; Mal. I grant him bloody,

Since that the truest issue of thy throne Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,

By his own interdiction stands accursed, Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin And does blaspheme his breed ?— Thy royal father That has a name: but there's no bottom, none, Was a most sainted king; the queen that bore thee, In my voluptuousness : your wives, your daugh- | Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,

Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself The cistern of my lust; and my desire

Have banished me from Scotland.-0, my breast, All continent impediments would o'erbear, Thy hope ends here! That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth, Mal. Macduff, this noble passion, Than such a one to reign.

Child of integrity, hath from my soul Macd. Boundless intemperance Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts In nature is a tyranny; it hath been

To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth The untimely emptying of the happy throne, By many of these trains hath sought to win me And fall of many kings. But fear not yet Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me To take upon you what is yours : you may From over-credulous haste: but God above Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, Deal between thee and me! for even now And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood I put myself to thy direction, and wink.

Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure We have willing dames enough; there cannot be The taints and blames I laid upon myself, That vulture in you, to devour so many

For strangers to my nature. I am yet As will to greatness dedicate themselves, Unknown to woman; never was forsworn; Finding it so inclined.

Scarcely have coveted what was mine own; Mal. With this, there grows,

At no time broke my faith; would not betray

ters,

The devil to his fellow; and delight

Are made, not marked; where violent sorrow No less in truth than life : my first false speaking

seems Was this upon myself: what I am truly, A modern ecstacy; the dead man's knell Is thine, and iny poor country's, to command : Is there scarce asked for who; and good men's Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach,

lives Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men, Expire before the flowers in their caps, All ready at a point, was setting forth :

Dying or ere they sicken. Now we'll together: and the chance of goodness Macd. O, relation, Be like our warranted quarrel !—Why are you Too nice, and yet too true! silent?

Mal. What is the newest grief? Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the at once,

speaker; 'Tis hard to reconcile.

Each minute teems a new one.

Macd. How does my wife?
Enter a Doctor.

Rosse. Why, well.
Mal. Well; more anon.--Comes the king Macd. And all my children?
forth, I pray you?

Rosse.

Well, too. Doct. Ay, sir: there are a crew of wretched Macd. The tyrant has not battered at their souls

peace? That stay his cure; their malady convinces Rosse. No; they were well at peace when I The great assay of art; but at his touch,

did leave them. Such sanctity hath Heaven given his hand, Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: how They presently amend.

goes it? Mal. I thank you, doctor. [Exit Doctor. Rosse. When I came hither to transport the Macd. What's the disease he means?

tidings Mal. 'Tis called the “evil:"|

Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour A most miraculous work in this good king; Of many worthy fellows that were out; Which often, since my here-remain in England, Which was to my velief witnessed the rather, I have seen him do. How he solicits Heaven, For that I saw che iyrani's power a-foot. Himself best knows: but sirangely-visited people, | Now is the time of help: vour eye in Scotland All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, Would create soldiers, make our women fight, The mere despair of surgery, he cures;

To doff their dire distresses. Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,

Mal. Be it their comfort, Put on with holy prayers : and 't is spoken, We are coming thither : gracious England hath To the succeeding royalty he leaves

Lent us good Siward, and ten thousand men;
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, An older and a better soldier none
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;

That Christendom gives out.
And sundry blessings hang about his throne, Rosse. Would I could answer
That speak bim full of grace.

This comfort with the like! But I have words

That would be howled out in the desert air,
Enter Rosse.

Where hearing should not latch them.
Macd. See, who comes here?

Macd. What concern they? Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him The general cause? or is it a fee-grief, not.

Due to some single breast? Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. Rosse. No mind that 's honest Mal. I know him now: good God, betimes But in it shares some woe; though the main part remove

Pertains to you alone. The means that make us strangers !

Macd. If it be mine, Rosse. Sir, amen.

Keep it not from me; quickly let me have it. Macd. Stands Scotland where it did ?

Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue Rosse. Alas, poor country;

for ever, Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot

Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound Be called our mother, but our grave: where no That ever yet they heard. thing,

Macd. Humph! I guess at it. But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; Rosse. Your castle is surprised; your wife and Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent

babes the air,

Savagely slaughtered: to relate the manner,

Were, on the quarry of these murdered deer,
To add the death of you.

Mal. Merciful heaven!
What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give sorrow words : the grief that does not speak,
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it

break. Macd. My children too?

Rosse. Wife, children, servants,—all That could be found.

Macd. And I must be from thence !
My wife killed too?

Rosse. I have said.
Mal.

Be comforted :
Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.
Macd. He has no children.—All my pretty

ones? Did you say, all? O, hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam, At one fell swoop?

Mal. Dispute it like a man.

Macd. I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man :
I cannot but remember such things were,

That were most precious to me.- Did Heaven

look on, And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, They were all struck for thee! naught that I am, Not for their own demerits, but for mine, Fell slaughter on their souls : Heaven rest them

now! Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword: let

grief Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine

eyes, And braggart with my tongue ! - But, gentle

Heaven, Cut short all intermission; front to front Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself ; Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape, Heaven forgive him too!

Mal. This tune goes manly. Come, go we to the king; our power is ready; Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer

you may; The night is long that never finds the day.

[Exeunt.

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Scene I.—Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. I Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by

her continually; 't is her command. Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a waiting

Doct. You see her eyes are open.
Gentlewoman.

Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut. Doct. I have two nights watched with you, Doct. What is it she does now? Look how she but can perceive no truth in your report. When rubs her hands. was it she last walked ?

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I seem thus washing her hands; I have known her have seen her rise from her bed, throw her continue in this a quarter of an hour. night-gown upon her, unlock her closet, take Lady M. Yet here's a spot. forth paper, fold it, write upon it, read it, after Doct. Hark, she speaks: I will set down what wards seal it, and again return to bed ; yet all comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the this while in a most fast sleep.

more strongly. Doct. A great perturbation in nature! to receive Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say!-One; at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of two; why, then 'tis time to do't:—Hell is watching.-- In this slumbry agitation, besides her murky!—Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier and afеard? walking and other actual performances, what, at What need we fear who knows it, when none can any time, have you heard her say?

call our power to account?—Yet who would have Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her. thought the old man to have had so much blood

Doct. You may to me; and 't is most meet you in him. should.

Doct. Do you mark that? Gent. Neither to you nor any one; having no | Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife; where witness to confirm my speech.

is she now ?-What, will these hands ne'er be

clean!--No more o’that, my lord, no more o'that: Enter LADY Macbeth, with a taper.

you mar all with this starting. Lo you, here she comes ! This is her very guise; | Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand should not. close.

Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am Doct. How came she by that light?

sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known.

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