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Mal.

Ross.

Be't their comfort

We are coming thither: gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men ; 190
An older and a better soldier none

That Christendom gives out.

Would I could answer

This comfort with the like! But I have words
That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Where hearing should not latch them.

Macd.

Ross.

What concern they?

The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
Due to some single breast?

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. 200 Ross. 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.
Ross. Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes

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'erfraught heart, and bids it break. Macd. My children too?

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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,

220

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, 230 And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens, Cut short all intermission; front to front

Mal.

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

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.

240

[Exeunt.

Act Fifth.

Scene I.

Dunsinane. Ante-room in the castle.

Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman.

Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but can

perceive no truth in your report.

it she last walked?

When was

Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I have

seen her rise from her bed, throw her night-
gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth
paper, fold it, write upon 't, read it, afterwards
seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this
while in a most fast sleep.

Doct. A great perturbation in nature, to receive at
once the benefit of sleep and do the effects of
watching! In this slumbery agitation, besides
her walking and other actual performances,
what, at any time, have you heard her
say?

Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after

her.

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Doct. You may to me, and 'tis most meet you

should.

Gent. Neither to you nor any one, having no witness 20 to confirm my speech.

Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper.

Lo you, here she comes !

This is her very

guise, and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe

her; stand close.

Doct. How came she by that light?

Gent. Why, it stood by her she has light by her

:

continually; 'tis her command.

Doct. You see, her eyes are open.

Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.

Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how she 30

rubs her hands.

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands: I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Lady M. Yet here's a spot.

Doct. Hark! she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say! One:

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