Macb. Infected be the air whereon they ride; And damn'd all those that trust them!-I did hear The galloping of horse: Who was 't came by? Len. 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word, Macduff is fled to England. Macb. Len. Ay, my good lord. Fled to England? Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits : The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it: From this moment, The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: The castle of Macduff I will surprise; Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword. His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; But no more sights!-Where are these gentlemen? SCENE II.-Fife. A Room in Macduff's Castle. [Exeunt. Enter Lady MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSSE. L. Macd. He had none : His flight was madness: When our actions do not, Rosse. You know not Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear. L. Macd. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, His mansion, and his titles, in a place From whence himself does fly? He loves us not; He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. As little is the wisdom, where the flight So runs against all reason. Rosse. My dearest coz, I pray you, school yourself: But, for your husband, He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows The fits o' the season. I dare not speak much further : But cruel are the times, when we are traitors, And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumour From what we fear; yet know not what we fear; But float upon a wild and violent sea, Each way, and move.—I take my leave of you : Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward VOL. III. B 2 To what they were before.-My pretty cousin, L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. I take my leave at once. L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead; L. Macd. [Exit ROSSE. What, with worms and flies? Son. With what I get. I mean; and so do they. L. Macd. Poor bird! thou 'dst never fear the net, nor lime, The pit-fall, nor the gin. Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. My father is not dead, for all your saying. L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father? Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. L. Macd. Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet, i' faith, With wit enough for thee. Son. Was my father a traitor, mother? L. Macd. Ay, that he was. Son. What is a traitor? L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies. Son. And be all traitors that do so? L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. Son. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? L. Macd. Every one. Son. Who must hang them? L. Macd. Why, the honest men. Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools for there are liars and swearers enow to beat the honest men, and hang up them. L. Macd. Now God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father? Son. If he were dead, you'd weep for him: if you would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father. L. Macd. Poor prattler! how thou talkest. Enter a Messenger. Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, Though in your state of honour I am perfect. I doubt, some danger does approach you nearly: If you will take a homely man's advice, Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage; Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! L. Macd. Whither should I fly? I have done no harm. But I remember now [Exit Messenger. I am in this earthly world; where, to do harm, To say, I have done no harm? What are these faces? Enter Murderers. Mur. Where is your husband? L. Macd. I hope, in no place so unsanctified, Where such as thou mayst find him. Mur. Son. Thou liest, thou shag-ear'd villain. Young fry of treachery ! Run away, I pray you. What, you egg! He's a traitor. [Stabbing him. [Dies. He has kill'd me, mother: [Exit Lady MACDUFF, crying' Murder,' and pursued by the Murderers. SCENE III.-England. A Room in the King's Palace. Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF. Mal. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there Weep our sad bosoms empty. Macd. Let us rather, Hold fast the mortal sword; and, like good men, As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out Mal. What I believe I'll wail; What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance. This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, Was once thought honest; you have lov'd him well; He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young, but something You may deserve of him through me; and wisdom To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb, To appease an angry God. Macd. I am not treacherous. But Macbeth is. A good and virtuous nature may recoil, In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon; I have lost my hopes. Macd. Why in that rawness left you wife and child, Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, But mine own safeties:-You may be rightly just, Macd. Bleed, bleed, poor country! Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, For goodness dare not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs, The title is affecr'd.-Fare thee well, lord : I would not be the villain that thou think'st For the whole space that is in the tyrant's grasp, And the rich East to boot. Mal. Be not offended; I speak not as in absolute fear of you. Macd. What should he be? Mal. It is myself I mean: in whom I know Macd. Not in the legions Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn'd Mal. I grant him bloody, Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin That has a name : But there's no bottom, none, The cistern of my lust; and my desire All continent impediments would o'erbear, Macd. Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny; it hath been And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. As will to greatness dedicate themselves, Mal. With this there grows, Macd. This avarice Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Of your mere own: All these are portable, With other graces weigh'd. Mal. But I have none: The king-becoming graces, As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, I have no relish of them; but abound In the division of each several crime, Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should Uproar the universal peace, confound All unity on earth. 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? Since that the truest issue of thy throne By his own interdiction stands accurs'd, And does blaspheme his breed?-Thy royal father Was a most sainted king: the queen, that bore thee, Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet, Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself Have banish'd me from Scotland.-O, my breast, Mal. Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts |