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But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
Too nice, and yet too true!
What is the newest grief? Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the
Each minute teems a new one.
Rosse. Why, well.
How does my wife?
Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? Rosse. No; they were well at peace, when I did leave them.
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
'Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words,
No mind, that's honest, But in it shares some woe; though the main part Pertains to you alone. Macd. Keep it not from me,
If it be mine, 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.
Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
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?
Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.
6 should not latch them.] To latch any thing, is to lay hold of it.
7-fee-grief,] A peculiar sorrow; a grief that hath a single owner. The expression is, at least to our ears, very harsh. It must be allowed that, in both the foregoing instances, the Attorney has been guilty of a flat trespass on the Poet.
8 Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,] Quarry is a term used both in hunting and falconry. In both sports it means the game after it is killed.
And I must be from thence!
I have said.
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?
My wife kill'd too?
Did you say, all?-O, hell-kite!-All?
Mal. Dispute it like a man.
I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember that such things were,
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, They were all struck for thee! naught that I
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls: Heaven rest them
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,
9 At one fell swoop?] Swoop is the descent of a bird of prey his
Cut short all intermission;] i. e. all pause, all intervening