Macbeth/Source/Act IV

SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron.
[Thunder. Enter the three Witches.]

FIRST WITCH.
 * Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

SECOND WITCH.
 * Thrice; and once the hedge-pig whin'd.

THIRD WITCH.
 * Harpier cries:—'tis time, 'tis time.

FIRST WITCH.
 * Round about the caldron go;
 * In the poison'd entrails throw.—
 * Toad, that under cold stone,
 * Days and nights has thirty-one
 * Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
 * Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!

ALL.
 * Double, double, toil and trouble;
 * Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

SECOND WITCH.
 * Fillet of a fenny snake,
 * In the caldron boil and bake;
 * Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
 * Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
 * Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
 * Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,—
 * For a charm of powerful trouble,
 * Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

ALL.
 * Double, double, toil and trouble;
 * Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

THIRD WITCH.
 * Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
 * Witch's mummy, maw and gulf
 * Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
 * Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
 * Liver of blaspheming Jew,
 * Gall of goat, and slips of yew
 * Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,
 * Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,
 * Finger of birth-strangl'd babe
 * Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,—
 * Make the gruel thick and slab:
 * Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
 * For the ingredients of our caldron.

ALL.
 * Double, double, toil and trouble;
 * Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.

SECOND WITCH.
 * Cool it with a baboon's blood,
 * Then the charm is firm and good.

[Enter Hecate.]

HECATE.
 * O, well done! I commend your pains;
 * And everyone shall share i' the gains.
 * And now about the cauldron sing,
 * Like elves and fairies in a ring,
 * Enchanting all that you put in.

(Song.
 * ''Black spirits and white, red spirits and gray;
 * Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may.)

[Exit Hecate.]

SECOND WITCH.
 * By the pricking of my thumbs,
 * Something wicked this way comes:—
 * Open, locks, whoever knocks!

[Enter Macbeth.]

MACBETH.
 * How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags!
 * What is't you do?

ALL.
 * A deed without a name.

MACBETH.
 * I conjure you, by that which you profess,—
 * Howe'er you come to know it,—answer me:
 * Though you untie the winds, and let them fight
 * Against the churches; though the yesty waves
 * Confound and swallow navigation up;
 * Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down;
 * Though castles topple on their warders' heads;
 * Though palaces and pyramids do slope
 * Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
 * Of nature's germins tumble all together,
 * Even till destruction sicken,—answer me
 * To what I ask you.

FIRST WITCH.
 * Speak.

SECOND WITCH.
 * Demand.

THIRD WITCH.
 * We'll answer.

FIRST WITCH.
 * Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
 * Or from our masters?

MACBETH.
 * Call 'em, let me see 'em.

FIRST WITCH.
 * Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten
 * Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten
 * From the murderer's gibbet throw
 * Into the flame.

ALL.
 * Come, high or low;
 * Thyself and office deftly show!

[Thunder. An Apparition of an armed Head rises.]

MACBETH.
 * Tell me, thou unknown power,—

FIRST WITCH.
 * He knows thy thought:
 * Hear his speech, but say thou naught.

APPARITION.
 * Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! Beware Macduff;
 * Beware the Thane of Fife.—Dismiss me:—enough.

[Descends.]

MACBETH.
 * Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks;
 * Thou hast harp'd my fear aright:—but one word more,—

FIRST WITCH.
 * He will not be commanded: here's another,
 * More potent than the first.

[Thunder. An Apparition of a bloody Child rises.]

APPARITION.—
 * Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!

MACBETH.
 * Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.

APPARITION.
 * Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn
 * The power of man, for none of woman born
 * Shall harm Macbeth.

[Descends.]

MACBETH.
 * Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
 * But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
 * And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
 * That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
 * And sleep in spite of thunder.—What is this,

[Thunder. An Apparition of a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand, rises.]


 * That rises like the issue of a king,
 * And wears upon his baby brow the round
 * And top of sovereignty?

ALL.
 * Listen, but speak not to't.

APPARITION.
 * Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care
 * Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
 * Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until
 * Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
 * Shall come against him.

[Descends.]

MACBETH.
 * That will never be:
 * Who can impress the forest; bid the tree
 * Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements, good!
 * Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood
 * Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
 * Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
 * To time and mortal custom.—Yet my heart
 * Throbs to know one thing: tell me,—if your art
 * Can tell so much,—shall Banquo's issue ever
 * Reign in this kingdom?

ALL.
 * Seek to know no more.

MACBETH.
 * I will be satisfied: deny me this,
 * And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know:—
 * Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?

[Hautboys.]

FIRST WITCH.
 * Show!

SECOND WITCH.
 * Show!

THIRD WITCH.
 * Show!

ALL.
 * Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
 * Come like shadows, so depart!

[Eight kings appear, and pass over in order, the last with a glass in his hand; Banquo following.]

MACBETH.
 * Thou are too like the spirit of Banquo; down!
 * Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs:—and thy hair,
 * Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first;—
 * A third is like the former.—Filthy hags!
 * Why do you show me this?—A fourth!—Start, eyes!
 * What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
 * Another yet!—A seventh!—I'll see no more:—
 * And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
 * Which shows me many more; and some I see
 * That twofold balls and treble sceptres carry:
 * Horrible sight!—Now I see 'tis true;
 * For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
 * And points at them for his.—What! is this so?

FIRST WITCH.
 * Ay, sir, all this is so:—but why
 * Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?—
 * Come,sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
 * And show the best of our delights;
 * I'll charm the air to give a sound,
 * While you perform your antic round;
 * That this great king may kindly say,
 * Our duties did his welcome pay.

[Music. The Witches dance, and then vanish.]

MACBETH.
 * Where are they? Gone?—Let this pernicious hour
 * Stand aye accursed in the calendar!—
 * Come in, without there!

[Enter Lennox.]

LENNOX.
 * What's your grace's will?

MACBETH.
 * Saw you the weird sisters?

LENNOX.
 * No, my lord.

MACBETH.
 * Came they not by you?

LENNOX.
 * No indeed, my lord.

MACBETH.
 * 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?

LENNOX.
 * 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
 * Macduff is fled to England.

MACBETH.
 * Fled to England!

LENNOX.
 * Ay, my good lord.

MACBETH.
 * 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;
 * This deed I'll do before this purpose cool:
 * But no more sights!—Where are these gentlemen?
 * Come, bring me where they are.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II. Fife. Macduff's castle.
[Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Ross.]

LADY MACDUFF.
 * What had he done, to make him fly the land?

ROSS.
 * You must have patience, madam.

LADY MACDUFF.
 * He had none:
 * His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
 * Our fears do make us traitors.

ROSS.
 * You know not
 * Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.

LADY MACDUFF.
 * 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.
 * All is the fear, and nothing is the love;
 * As little is the wisdom, where the flight
 * So runs against all reason.

ROSS.
 * 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:
 * Shall not be long but I'll be here again:
 * Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
 * To what they were before.—My pretty cousin,
 * Blessing upon you!

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.

ROSS.
 * I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
 * It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
 * I take my leave at once.

[Exit.]

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Sirrah, your father's dead;
 * And what will you do now? How will you live?

SON.
 * As birds do, mother.

LADY MACDUFF.
 * What, with worms and flies?

SON.
 * With what I get, I mean; and so do they.

LADY MACDUFF.
 * 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.

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do for father?

SON.
 * Nay, how will you do for a husband?

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.

SON.
 * Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet, i' faith,
 * With wit enough for thee.

SON.
 * Was my father a traitor, mother?

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Ay, that he was.

SON.
 * What is a traitor?

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Why, one that swears and lies.

SON.
 * And be all traitors that do so?

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Everyone that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.

SON.
 * And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Every one.

SON.
 * Who must hang them?

LADY MACDUFF.
 * 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.

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Now, God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt
 * thou do for a father?

SON.
 * If he were dead, you'ld weep for him: if you would not, it
 * were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father.

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!

[Enter a Messenger.]

MESSENGER.
 * 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;
 * To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
 * Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
 * I dare abide no longer.

[Exit.]

LADY MACDUFF.
 * Whither should I fly?
 * I have done no harm. But I remember now
 * I am in this earthly world; where to do harm
 * Is often laudable; to do good sometime
 * Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas,
 * Do I put up that womanly defence,
 * To say I have done no harm?—What are these faces?

[Enter Murderers.]

FIRST MURDERER.
 * Where is your husband?

LADY MACDUFF.
 * I hope, in no place so unsanctified
 * Where such as thou mayst find him.

FIRST MURDERER.
 * He's a traitor.

SON.
 * Thou liest, thou shag-haar'd villain!

FIRST MURDERER.
 * What, you egg!

[Stabbing him.]


 * Young fry of treachery!

SON.
 * He has kill'd me, mother:
 * Run away, I pray you!

[Dies. Exit Lady Macduff, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, following her.]

SCENE III. England. Before the King's palace.
[Enter Malcolm and Macduff.]

MALCOLM.
 * Let us seek out some desolate shade and there
 * Weep our sad bosoms empty.

MACDUFF.
 * Let us rather
 * Hold fast the mortal sword, and, like good men,
 * Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn
 * New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sorrows
 * Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
 * As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
 * Like syllable of dolour.

MALCOLM.
 * What I believe, I'll wail;
 * What know, believe; and what I can redress,
 * As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
 * What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
 * This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
 * Was once thought honest: you have loved 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.

MACDUFF.
 * I am not treacherous.

MALCOLM.
 * But Macbeth is.
 * A good and virtuous nature may recoil
 * In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon;
 * That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose;
 * Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell:
 * Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
 * Yet grace must still look so.

MACDUFF.
 * I have lost my hopes.

MALCOLM.
 * Perchance even there where I did find my doubts.
 * Why in that rawness left you wife and child,—
 * Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,—
 * Without leave-taking?—I pray you,
 * Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,
 * But mine own safeties:—you may be rightly just,
 * Whatever I shall think.

MACDUFF.
 * Bleed, bleed, poor country!
 * Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
 * For goodness dare not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs,
 * The title is affeer'd.—Fare thee well, lord:
 * I would not be the villain that thou think'st
 * For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp
 * And the rich East to boot.

MALCOLM.
 * Be not offended:
 * I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
 * I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
 * It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
 * Is added to her wounds. I think, withal,
 * There would be hands uplifted in my right;
 * And here, from gracious England, have I offer
 * Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,
 * When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
 * Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
 * Shall have more vices than it had before;
 * More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever,
 * By him that shall succeed.

MACDUFF.
 * What should he be?

MALCOLM.
 * It is myself I mean: in whom I know
 * All the particulars of vice so grafted
 * That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
 * Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state
 * Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd
 * With my confineless harms.

MACDUFF.
 * Not in the legions
 * Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
 * In evils to top Macbeth.

MALCOLM.
 * I grant him bloody,
 * Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
 * Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
 * That has a name: but there's no bottom, none,
 * In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,
 * Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
 * The cistern of my lust; and my desire
 * All continent impediments would o'erbear,
 * That did oppose my will: better Macbeth
 * Than such an one to reign.

MACDUFF.
 * Boundless intemperance
 * In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
 * The untimely emptying of the happy throne,
 * And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
 * To take upon you what is yours: you may
 * Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
 * And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
 * We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
 * That vulture in you, to devour so many
 * As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
 * Finding it so inclin'd.

MALCOLM.
 * With this there grows,
 * In my most ill-compos'd affection, such
 * A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,
 * I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
 * Desire his jewels, and this other's house:
 * And my more-having would be as a sauce
 * To make me hunger more; that I should forge
 * Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
 * Destroying them for wealth.

MACDUFF.
 * This avarice
 * Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root
 * Than summer-seeming lust; and it hath been
 * The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;
 * Scotland hath foysons to fill up your will,
 * Of your mere own: all these are portable,
 * With other graces weigh'd.

MALCOLM.
 * 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
 * Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
 * Uproar the universal peace, confound
 * All unity on earth.

MACDUFF.
 * O Scotland, Scotland!

MALCOLM.
 * If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
 * I am as I have spoken.

MACDUFF.
 * 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,
 * Oftener 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,
 * Thy hope ends here!

MALCOLM.
 * Macduff, this noble passion,
 * Child of integrity, hath from my soul
 * Wiped the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts
 * To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth
 * By many of these trains hath sought to win me
 * Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me
 * From over-credulous haste: but God above
 * Deal between thee and me! for even now
 * I put myself to thy direction, and
 * Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure
 * The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
 * For strangers to my nature. I am yet
 * Unknown to woman; never was forsworn;
 * Scarcely have coveted what was mine own;
 * At no time broke my faith; would not betray
 * The devil to his fellow; and delight
 * No less in truth than life: my first false speaking
 * Was this upon myself:—what I am truly,
 * Is thine and my poor country's to command:
 * Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach,
 * Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men
 * Already at a point, was setting forth:
 * Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness
 * Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?

MACDUFF.
 * Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
 * 'Tis hard to reconcile.

[Enter a Doctor.]

MALCOLM.
 * Well; more anon.—Comes the king forth, I pray you?

DOCTOR.
 * 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,
 * Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand,
 * They presently amend.

MALCOLM.
 * I thank you, doctor.

[Exit Doctor.]

MACDUFF.
 * What's the disease he means?

MALCOLM.
 * 'Tis call'd the evil:
 * A most miraculous work in this good king;
 * Which often, since my here-remain in England,
 * I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
 * Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people,
 * All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
 * The mere despair of surgery, he cures;
 * Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
 * Put on with holy prayers: and 'tis spoken,
 * To the succeeding royalty he leaves
 * The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
 * He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
 * And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
 * That speak him full of grace.

MACDUFF.
 * See, who comes here?

MALCOLM.
 * My countryman; but yet I know him not.

[Enter Ross.]

MACDUFF.
 * My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.

MALCOLM.
 * I know him now. Good God, betimes remove
 * The means that makes us strangers!

ROSS.
 * Sir, amen.

MACDUFF.
 * Stands Scotland where it did?

ROSS.
 * Alas, poor country,—
 * Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
 * Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where nothing,
 * But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
 * Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks, that rent the air,
 * Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
 * A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell
 * Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives
 * Expire before the flowers in their caps,
 * Dying or ere they sicken.

MACDUFF.
 * O, relation
 * Too nice, and yet too true!

MALCOLM.
 * What's the newest grief?

ROSS.
 * That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker;
 * Each minute teems a new one.

MACDUFF.
 * How does my wife?

ROSS.
 * Why, well.

MACDUFF.
 * And all my children?

ROSS.
 * Well too.

MACDUFF.
 * The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

ROSS.
 * No; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.

MACDUFF.
 * Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes't?

ROSS.
 * When I came hither to transport the tidings,
 * Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
 * Of many worthy fellows that were out;
 * Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
 * For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:
 * Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
 * Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
 * To doff their dire distresses.

MALCOLM.
 * Be't their comfort
 * We are coming thither: gracious England hath
 * Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
 * An older and a better soldier none
 * That Christendom gives out.

ROSS.
 * 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.

MACDUFF.
 * What concern they?
 * The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
 * Due to some single breast?

ROSS.
 * No mind that's honest
 * But in it shares some woe; though the main part
 * Pertains to you alone.

MACDUFF.
 * If it be mine,
 * 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.

MACDUFF.
 * Humh! 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.

MALCOLM.
 * 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.

MACDUFF.
 * My children too?

ROSS.
 * Wife, children, servants, all
 * That could be found.

MACDUFF.
 * And I must be from thence!
 * My wife kill'd too?

ROSS.
 * I have said.

MALCOLM.
 * Be comforted:
 * Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
 * To cure this deadly grief.

MACDUFF.
 * 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?

MALCOLM.
 * Dispute it like a man.

MACDUFF.
 * I shall do so;
 * But I must also feel it as a man:
 * I cannot but remember such things were,
 * 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!

MALCOLM.
 * Be this the whetstone of your sword. Let grief
 * Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.

MACDUFF.
 * O, I could play the woman with mine eye,
 * And braggart with my tongue!—But, gentle heavens,
 * Cut short all intermission; front to front
 * Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
 * Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
 * Heaven forgive him too!

MALCOLM.
 * 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.

[Exeunt.]