1814Mal. Let vs seeke out some desolate shade, & there

1815Weepe our sad bosomes empty.

1816Macd. Let vs rather

1817Hold fast the mortall Sword: and like good men,

1818Bestride our downfall Birthdome: each new Morne,

1819New Widdowes howle, new Orphans cry, new sorowes

1820Strike heauen on the face, that it resounds

1821As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out

1822Like Syllable of Dolour.

1823Mal. What I beleeue, Ile waile;

1824What know, beleeue; and what I can redresse,

1825As I shall finde the time to friend: I wil.

1826What you haue spoke, it may be so perchance.

1827This Tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,

1828Was once thought honest: you haue lou'd him well,

1829He hath not touch'd you yet. I am yong, but something

1830You may discerne of him through me, and wisedome

1831To offer vp a weake, poore innocent Lambe

1832T'appease an angry God.

1833Macd. I am not treacherous.

1834Malc. But Macbeth is.

1835A good and vertuous Nature may recoyle

1836In an Imperiall charge. But I shall craue your pardon:

1837That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose;

1838Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.

1839Though all things foule, would wear the brows of grace

1840Yet Grace must still looke so.

1841Macd. I haue lost my Hopes.

1842Malc. Perchance euen there

1843Where I did finde my doubts.

1844Why in that rawnesse left you Wife, and Childe?

1845Those precious Motiues, those strong knots of Loue,

1846Without leaue-taking. I pray you,

1847Let not my Iealousies, be your Dishonors,

1848But mine owne Safeties: you may be rightly iust,

1849What euer I shall thinke.

1850Macd. Bleed, bleed poore Country,

1851Great Tyrrany, lay thou thy basis sure,

1852For goodnesse dare not check thee: wear y^u thy wrongs,

1853The Title, is affear'd. Far thee well Lord,

1854I would not be the Villaine that thou think'st,

1855For the whole Space that's in the Tyrants Graspe,

1856And the rich East to boot.

1857Mal. Be not offended:

1858I speake not as in absolute feare of you:

1859I thinke our Country sinkes beneath the yoake,

1860It weepes, it bleeds, and each new day a gash

1861Is added to her wounds. I thinke withall,

1862There would be hands vplifted in my right:

1863And heere from gracious England haue I offer

1864Of goodly thousands. But for all this,

1865When I shall treade vpon the Tyrants head,

1866Or weare it on my Sword; yet my poore Country

1867Shall haue more vices then it had before,

1868More suffer, and more sundry wayes then euer,

1869By him that shall succeede.

1870Macd. What should he be?

1871Mal. It is my selfe I meane: in whom I know

1872All the particulars of Vice so grafted,

1873That when they shall be open'd, blacke Macbeth

1874Will seeme as pure as Snow, and the poore State

1875Esteeme him as a Lambe, being compar'd

1876With my confinelesse harmes.

1877Macd. Not in the Legions

1878Of horrid Hell, can come a Diuell more damn'd

1879In euils, to top Macbeth.

1880Mal. I grant him Bloody,

1881Luxurious, Auaricious, False, Deceitfull,

1882Sodaine, Malicious, smacking of euery sinne

1883That ha's a name. But there's no bottome, none

1884In my Voluptuousnesse: Your Wiues, your Daughters,

1885Your Matrons, and your Maides, could not fill vp

1886The Cesterne of my Lust, and my Desire

1887All continent Impediments would ore-beare

1888That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth,

1889Then such an one to reigne.

1890Macd. Boundlesse intemperance

1891In Nature is a Tyranny: It hath beene

1892Th'vntimely emptying of the happy Throne,

1893And fall of many Kings. But feare not yet

1894To take vpon you what is yours: you may

1895Conuey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,

1896And yet seeme cold. The time you may so hoodwinke:

1897We haue willing Dames enough: there cannot be

1898That Vulture in you, to deuoure so many

1899As will to Greatnesse dedicate themselues,

1900Finding it so inclinde.

1901Mal. With this, there growes

1902In my most ill-compos'd Affection, such

1903A stanchlesse Auarice, that were I King,

1904I should cut off the Nobles for their Lands,

1905Desire his Iewels, and this others House,

1906And my more-hauing, would be as a Sawce

1907To make me hunger more, that I should forge

1908Quarrels vniust against the Good and Loyall,

1909Destroying them for wealth.

1910Macd. This Auarice

1911stickes deeper: growes with more pernicious roote

1912Then Summer-seeming Lust: and it hath bin

1913The Sword of our slaine Kings: yet do not feare,

1914Scotland hath Foysons, to fill vp your will

1915Of your meere Owne. All these are portable,

1916With other Graces weigh'd.

1917Mal. But I haue none. The King-becoming Graces,

1918As Iustice, Verity, Temp'rance, Stablenesse,

1919Bounty, Perseuerance, Mercy, Lowlinesse,

1920Deuotion, Patience, Courage, Fortitude,

1921I haue no rellish of them, but abound

1922In the diuision of each seuerall Crime,

1923Acting it many wayes. Nay, had I powre, I should

1924Poure the sweet Milke of Concord, into Hell,

1925Vprore the vniuersall peace, confound

1926All vnity on earth.

1927Macd. O Scotland, Scotland.

1928Mal. If such a one be fit to gouerne, speake:

1929I am as I haue spoken.

1930Mac. Fit to gouern? No not to liue. O Natiõ miserable!

1931With an vntitled Tyrant, bloody Sceptred,

1932When shalt thou see thy wholsome dayes againe?

1933Since that the truest Issue of thy Throne

1934By his owne Interdiction stands accust,

1935And do's blaspheme his breed? Thy Royall Father

1936Was a most Sainted-King: the Queene that bore thee,

1937Oftner vpon her knees, then on her feet,

1938Dy'de euery day she liu'd. Fare thee well,

1939These Euils thou repeat'st vpon thy selfe,

1940Hath banish'd me from Scotland. O my Brest,

1941Thy hope ends heere.

1942Mal. Macduff, this Noble passion

1943Childe of integrity, hath from my soule

1944Wip'd the blacke Scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts

1945To thy good Truth, and Honor. Diuellish Macbeth,

1946By many of these traines, hath sought to win me

1947Into his power: and modest Wisedome pluckes me

1948From ouer-credulous hast: but God aboue

1949Deale betweene thee and me; For euen now

1950I put my selfe to thy Direction, and

1951Vnspeake mine owne detraction. Heere abiure

1952The taints, and blames I laide vpon my selfe,

1953For strangers to my Nature. I am yet

1954Vnknowne to Woman, neuer was forsworne,

1955Scarsely haue coueted what was mine owne.

1956At no time broke my Faith, would not betray

1957The Deuill to his Fellow, and delight

1958No lesse in truth then life. My first false speaking

1959Was this vpon my selfe. What I am truly

1960Is thine, and my poore Countries to command:

1961Whither indeed, before they heere approach

1962Old Seyward with ten thousand warlike men

1963Already at a point, was setting foorth:

1964Now wee'l together, and the chance of goodnesse

1965Be like our warranted Quarrell. Why are you silent?

1966Macd. Such welcome, and vnwelcom things at once

1967'Tis hard to reconcile.

1969Mal. Well, more anon. Comes the King forth

1970I pray you?

1971Doct. I Sir: there are a crew of wretched Soules

1972That stay his Cure: their malady conuinces

1973The great assay of Art. But at his touch,

1974Such sanctity hath Heauen giuen his hand,

1975They presently amend. Exit.

1976Mal. I thanke you Doctor.

1977Macd. What's the Disease he meanes?

1978Mal. Tis call'd the Euill.

1979A most myraculous worke in this good King,

1980Which often since my heere remaine in England,

1981I haue seene him do: How he solicites heauen

1982Himselfe best knowes: but strangely visited people

1983All swolne and Vlcerous, pittifull to the eye,

1984The meere dispaire of Surgery, he cures,

1985Hanging a golden stampe about their neckes,

1986Put on with holy Prayers, and 'tis spoken

1987To the succeeding Royalty he leaues

1988The healing Benediction. With this strange vertue,

1989He hath a heauenly guift of Prophesie,

1990And sundry Blessings hang about his Throne,

1991That speake him full of Grace.

1993Macd. See who comes heere.

1994Malc. My Countryman: but yet I know him not.

1995Macd. My euer gentle Cozen, welcome hither.

1996Malc. I know him now. Good God betimes remoue

1997The meanes that makes vs Strangers.

1998Rosse. Sir, Amen.

1999Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?

2000Rosse. Alas poore Countrey,

2001Almost affraid to know it selfe. It cannot

2002Be call'd our Mother, but our Graue; where nothing

2003But who knowes nothing, is once seene to smile:

2004Where sighes, and groanes, and shrieks that rent the ayre

2005Are made, not mark'd: Where violent sorrow seemes

2006A Moderne extasie: The Deadmans knell,

2007Is there scarse ask'd for who, and good mens liues

2008Expire before the Flowers in their Caps,

2009Dying, or ere they sicken.

2010Macd. Oh Relation; too nice, and yet too true.

2011Malc. What's the newest griefe?

2012Rosse. That of an houres age, doth hisse the speaker,

2013Each minute teemes a new one.

2014Macd. How do's my Wife?

2015Rosse. Why well.

2016Macd. And all my Children?

2017Rosse. Well too.

2018Macd. The Tyrant ha's not batter'd at their peace?

2019Rosse. No, they were wel at peace, when I did leaue 'em

2020Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: How gos't?

2021Rosse. When I came hither to transport the Tydings

2022Which I haue heauily borne, there ran a Rumour

2023Of many worthy Fellowes, that were out,

2024Which was to my beleefe witnest the rather,

2025For that I saw the Tyrants Power a-foot.

2026Now is the time of helpe: your eye in Scotland

2027Would create Soldiours, make our women fight,

2028To doffe their dire distresses.

2029Malc. Bee't their comfort

2030We are comming thither: Gracious England hath

2031Lent vs good Seyward, and ten thousand men,

2032An older, and a better Souldier, none

2033That Christendome giues out.

2034Rosse. Would I could answer

2035This comfort with the like. But I haue words

2036That would be howl'd out in the desert ayre,

2037Where hearing should not latch them.

2038Macd. What concerne they,

2039The generall cause, or is it a Fee-griefe

2040Due to some single brest?

2041Rosse. No minde that's honest

2042But in it shares some woe, though the maine part

2043Pertaines to you alone.

2044Macd. If it be mine

2045Keepe it not from me, quickly let me haue it.

2046Rosse. Let not your eares dispise my tongue for euer,

2047Which shall possesse them with the heauiest sound

2048That euer yet they heard.

2049Macd. Humh: I guesse at it.

2050Rosse, Your Castle is surpriz'd: your Wife, and Babes

2051Sauagely slaughter'd: To relate the manner

2052Were on the Quarry of these murther'd Deere

2053To adde the death of you.

2054Malc. Mercifull Heauen:

2055What man, ne're pull your hat vpon your browes:

2056Giue sorrow words; the griefe that do's not speake,

2057Whispers the o're-fraught heart, and bids it breake.

2058Macd. My Children too?

2059Ro. Wife, Children, Seruants, all that could be found.

2060Macd. And I must be from thence? My wife kil'd too?

2061Rosse. I haue said.

2062Malc. Be comforted.

2063Let's make vs Med'cines of our great Reuenge,

2064To cure this deadly greefe.

2065Macd. He ha's no Children. All my pretty ones?

2066Did you say All? Oh Hell-Kite! All?

2067What, All my pretty Chickens, and their Damme

2068At one fell swoope?

2069Malc. Dispute it like a man.

2070Macd. I shall do so:

Nn2 But

2071But I must also feele it as a man;

2072I cannot but remember such things were

2073That were most precious to me: Did heauen looke on,

2074And would not take their part? Sinfull Macduff,

2075They were all strooke for thee: Naught that I am,

2076Not for their owne demerits, but for mine

2077Fell slaughter on their soules: Heauen rest them now.

2078Mal. Be this the Whetstone of your sword, let griefe

2079Conuert to anger: blunt not the heart, enrage it.

2080Macd. O I could play the woman with mine eyes,

2081And Braggart with my tongue. But gentle Heauens,

2082Cut short all intermission: Front to Front,

2083Bring thou this Fiend of Scotland, and my selfe

2084Within my Swords length set him, if he scape

2085Heauen forgiue him too.

2086Mal. This time goes manly:

2087Come go we to the King, our Power is ready,

2088Our lacke is nothing but our leaue. Macbeth

2089Is ripe for shaking, and the Powres aboue

2090Put on their Instruments: Receiue what cheere you may,

2091The Night is long, that neuer findes the Day. Exeunt