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That have with two pernicious daughters join'd
That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads,
CHA P. XXII.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle tow'rd my hand? come,
let me clutch
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
Mine eyes are made the fools o' th' other senses,
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes.- -Now, o'er one half the world Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; now Witchcraft celebrates Pale Hecate's offerings: and wither'd Murther, (Alarm'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch) thus with his stealthy
Hear not my steps, which way they walk for fear
go, and 'tis done; the bell invites me, Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heav'n or to hell!
CHA P. XXIII.
Macduff, Malcolm, and Rosse.
EE, who comes here!
Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him not.
The means that makes us strangers!
Rosse. Sir, Amen.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?
Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot
Be call'd our mother but our grave; where nothing, But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; Where sighs and groans, and shrieks that rend the
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
Expire before the flowers in their
Too nice, and yet too true!
Each minute teems a new one.
Rosse. Why, well—
Macd. And all my children?
Rosse. Well too.
doth hiss the
Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? Rosse. No, they were at peace when I did leave
Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes it?
Rosse. When I came hither to transport the
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
Mal. Be't their comfort
We're goming thither: gracious England hath
That Christendom gives out.
Rosse. Would I could answer
This comfort with the like; but I have words
The gen'ral cause? or is it a free grief,
Rosse. No mind that's honest,
But in it shares some woe; tho' the main part
Macd. If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, That ever yet they heard.
Macd. Hum! I guess at it.
Rosse. Your castle is surpris'd, your wife and babes
Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
Mal Merciful Heav'n!
What man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows, Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak, Whispers the o'erfraught 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've 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
you say all? What all? Oh, hell-kite! All? Mal. Endure 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. Ďid Heav'n look
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. Heav'n rest them
Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword, let
Convert to wrath; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
Mal. This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king, our power is ready;
The night is long that never finds the day.
CHA P. XXI V.
Antony's Soliloquy over Caesar's body,
O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth!
That I am meek and gentle with these butchers. Thou art the ruins of the noblest man
That ever lived in the tide of times.
Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy:
That mothers shall but smile, when they behold