« ZurückWeiter »
Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever,
What should he be ?
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state 285 Esteem him as a lamb, being compared
With my confineless harms.
Not in the legions
I grant him bloody,
That has a name : But there's no bottom, none,
Than such a one to reign. 295 Macd.
To take upon you what is yours; you may 300 Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
With this there grows,
A stanchless avarice, that, were I king, 305 I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
Desire his jewels, and this other's house :
Destroying them for wealth. 310 Macd.
Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root
Scotland hath foysons to fill up your will, 315 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, 320 Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them; but abound
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, 325 Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.
Macd. O Scotland! Scotland !
Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak :
Fit to govern!
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again ?
And does blaspheme his breed ?—Thy royal father 335 Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore thee,
Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet,
Thy hope ends here! 340 Mal.
Macduff, this noble passion,
By many of these trains hath sought to win me 345 Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste : but God above
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure 350 The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature. I am yet
At no time broke my faith ; would not betray 355 The devil to his fellow; and delight
No less in truth than life : my first false speaking
Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach, 360 Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,
All ready at a point, was setting forth :
Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things at once, 365 'T is hard to reconcile. Mal. Well; more anon.
Enter a Doctor.
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, 370 Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand, They presently amend.
I thank you, doctor.
[Exit Doctor. Macd. What's the disease he means ? Mal.
'T is call'd the evil ; A most miraculous work in this good king :
Which often, since my here-remain in England, 375 I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
Himself best knows : but strangely-visited people,
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, 380 Put on with holy prayers : and 't is spoken,
To the succeeding royalty he leaves
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue,
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
See, who comes here?
Mal. I know him now: good God, betimes remove
Sir, Amen. 390
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did ?
Alas, poor country;
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air, 395 Are made, not mark’d; where violent sorrow seems
A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell
What's the newest grief?
How does my wife ?
And all my children ?
Well too. Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace ? 405 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
Of many worthy fellows that were out; 410 Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:
Be't their comfort, 415 We are coming thither: gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward, and ten thousand men ;
Would I could answer This comfort with the like! But I have words 420 That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Where hearing should not latch them.
What concern they ?
No mind that's honest
Pertains to you alone. 425 Macd.
If it be mine,
Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
Hum! I guess at it. 430 Rosse. Your castle is surprised; your wife, and babes,
Savagely slaughter'd : to relate the manner,
Merciful heaven !
Whispers the o'erfraught heart, and bids it break.
Macd. My children too?
Wife, children, servants,
And I must be from thence!
I have said. 440 Mal.
Be comforted :