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Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction ; “ here abjure
“ The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
“For strangers to my nature. I am yet
* Unknown to woman; never was forsworn;

Scarcely have coveted what was mine own; “At no time broke my faith ; would not betray 410° " The devil to his fellow ; and delight * No less in truth, than life : my first false speaking “Was this upon myself :" What I am truly, Is thine, and my poor country's, to command : Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach, Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men, *All ready at a point, was setting forth : Now we'll together ;, *and the chance, of goodness, Be like our warranted quarrel ! Why are you silent ?

Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things at once, 'Tis hard to reconcile.


66 Enter a Doctor, Mal. Well; more anon.-Comes the king forth,

I pray you? Doct, Ay, sir : there are a crew of wretched

souls, “ That stay his cure : their malady convinces* " The great assay of art; but, ät his touch, “ Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand, " They presently amend. Mal. I thank you, doctor.

[Exit. 44 Macd.


AE IV. Macd. What's the disease he means ? “ Mal. 'Tis call d the evil :

430 " A most miraculous work in this good king; “ Which often, since my here-remain in England, “ I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven, “ Himself best knows : but strangely-visited people,

All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, “ The mere despair of surgery,


cures; Hanging a golden stamp* about their necks, “ Put on with holy prayers : *and 'tis spoken, “ To the succeeding royalty he leaves “ The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, " He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;

441 " And sundry blessings hang about his throne, « That speak him full of grace."

Enter Rosse.

Macd. See, who comes here?
Mal. *My countryman; but yet I know him not.
Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.

Mal. I know him now : good God, betimes remove The means that make us strangers !

Rosse. Sir, Amen.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did ?

450 Rosse. Alas, poor country ; Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot Be cail'd our mother, but our grave : where nothing, But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air*,


Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
*A modern ecstacy : the dead man's knell
Is there scarce ask'd, for whom ; and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying, or ere they sicken.

Macd. Oh, relation,
Too nice, and yet too true!

Mal. What is the newest grief?

Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker ; Eachi minute teems a new one.

Macd. How does my wife?
Rosse. Why, well.
Macd. And all my children?
Rosse. Well too.
Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace !
Rosse. No; they were all at peace, when I did leave

471 Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech; how goes it?

Rosse. When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour re? Of many worthy fellows that were out;

Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot :
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses*.

Mal. Be it their comfort,
We are coming thither : gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward, and ten thousand men;
An older, and a better soldier, none




That Christendom gives out.

Rosse. 'Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words,
That would be howi'd out in the desert air,
Where hearing *should not catch them.

Macd. What concern they?
The general cause? or is it a *fee-grief,
Due to some single breast ?

Rosse. No mind, that's honest;
But in it shares some woe; though the main part
Pertains to you alone.

Macd. If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, That ever yet they heard.

Macd. Hum! I guess at it.
Rosse. Your castle is surpriz’d; your wife, and

Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
Were, on the quarry of these murder'd 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 kill'd too ?

Rosse. I have said.

Mal. Be comforted :
Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.

Macd. *He has no children.--All my pretty ones?
Did you say, all :-Oh, hell-kitel-All?

520 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, en And we

not ta their part ? Sinful Macduff, They were all struck for thee! naught that I am, Not for their own demerits, but for mine,

530 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. Oh, 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


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