Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Of your mere own: all these are portable, Mal. But I have none: the king-becoming graces, Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should Uproar(99) the universal peace, confound Macd. O Scotland, Scotland! Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken. Macd. Fit to govern! No, not to live.-O nation miserable, With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd, When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again, By his own interdiction stands accurs'd, And does blaspheme his breed?—Thy royal father Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!(100) Have banish'd me from Scotland.-O my breast, Mal. Deal between thee and me! for even now No less in truth than life: my first false speaking Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness 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, at his touch, [Exit Doctor. 'Tis call'd the evil A most miraculous work in this good king; The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, And sundry blessings hang about his throne, That speak him full of grace. Macd. See, who comes here? Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him not. Enter Ross. Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. Ross. Sir, amen. Macd. Stands Scotland where it did? Alas, poor country, Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air, Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives Dying or e'er they sicken. Macd. Too nice, and yet too true! Mal. O, relation What's the new'st grief? Ross. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker; Each minute teems a new one. Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? Ross. When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which was to my belief witness'd the rather, Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland Mal. Be 't their comfort We're coming thither: gracious England hath That Christendom gives out. Ross. Would I could answer This comfort with the like! But I have words Macd. The general cause? or is it a fee-grief Due to some single breast? Ross. What concern they? No mind that's honest But in it shares some woe; though the main part Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. 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 surpris'd; 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. Merciful heaven! Mal. Ross. That could be found. Macd. My wife kill'd too? Ross. Mal. Wife, children, servants, all And I must be from thence !— I've said. 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 ?(103) What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop? Mal. Dispute it like a man. Macd. But I must also feel it as a man: I shall do so; I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me.-Did heaven look on, Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes, Bring thou(104) this fiend of Scotland and myself; Mal. This tune goes manly. (105) Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may: [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. Dunsinane. A 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. When was it she last walked? Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen |