Puslapio vaizdai

· Mal. Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wip'd 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 hafte; 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 y 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 ain truly,
Is thine and my poor country's to command;
Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Seyward with ten thousand warlike men,
• All ready at a point, was setting forth.
Now we 'll together, and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you filent?

Macd. Such welcome, and unwelcome things at once, 'Tis hard to reconcilę.

y The three laft fo's, R, P. and H. W. says, Sbakespeare certainly wrote women for woman.

Cappoint, i. e. at the place appointed, at 2 The three last fo's, forfwore. the rendezvous. First f. itey for tby.

& H. our for ebe, b The fo's, Already.


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Mal. Well; more anon. Comes the King forth, I pray

Dott. Ay, Sir; there are a crew of wretched fouls,
That stay his cure; their malady' convinces
The great assay of art. But, at his touch,
Such fan&ity hath heaven given his hand,
They presently amend.

(Exit. Mal. I thank you, Doctor. Macd. What 's the disease he means ?

Mal. 'Tis call'd the Evil;
A moft miraculous work in this good King,
Which often fince my here-remain in England
I have seen him do. How he follicits heaven,
Himself best knows; but ftrangely visited people,
All swola 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 benedi&tion. With this strange virtue,
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
That speak him full of grace.

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f convincer for defeats, coutcomes.


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Macd. See, who comes here?
Mal, My countryman, but yet I know him not.
Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcorne- hither.

Mal. I know him now. Good God betinues remove & The means that makes us strangers! ..

Ref. Sir, Amen.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?

Roffe. 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 fighs and; groans; and Jarieks that · read the air
Are made, not inankd; where violent forrow feems
A modern ecstasy; the dead man's; knell
Is there scarce atk'd, fork whos, and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers.in, their caps, ..
Dying, or ere they, fickens.

Macd. 'Oh relation
Too nice, and yet too true!

Mal. What's the newest grief?.


8 The three last fo's and R. Tbe means, the means that, &c.

do Ho and J: make for makese

i The fo's and C. rent för rend.

* P, and all after; except C. wbor for when


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Rose. That of an hour's age doth biss the fpeakers
Each minute teems a new one.
Macd. How does


wife? Rolle. Why, well. Macd. And all my children? Rolle. Well too. Macd. Thę tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? Roffe. No, they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.

I Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: How goes 't? Rose. When I came hither

, to transport the tidings, I Which I have heavily born, there rag a mungour Of many worthy fellows that were out, .

Which was to my belief witness’d the father,
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot...
Now is the time of help; your exę, in Scotland

create soldiers,

soldiers, make our women fight, To doff their dire distresses,

Mal. Be 't their comfort,
We are coming thither, Gracious England, hath


1 Lent us good Seyward, and ten thousand men,

An older, and a better soldier, none
That Christendom gives out.

Rolle. Would I could answer,
This confort with the like! But I have words
That would be howlid out in the desert air,

Where hearing should not " catch them.

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


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1 H. Relation, ob! 100 nice, &c.

P. and all after, excepe C. and

male ringen, &c.
n The fo's and C. farck for catch


Rolle. No mind, that's honeft,
But in it shares some woe; though the main part
Pertains to you alone.

Macd. If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

Rolle. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound,
That ever yet they heard.

Macd. Humh! I guess at it.

Rofle. Your castle is surpriz’d; your wife and babes
Savagely Naughter'd; to relate the manner,
Were on the quarry of these murther'd deer
To add the death of you.

Mal. 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.

Macd. My children too?
Rose. Wife, children, servants, all that could be found.
Macd. And I must be from thence !--my wife kill'd too?
Rolle. I have said.

Mal. Be comforted.
Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.

Macd. He has no children. — ° All my pretty ones ?
Did you say all ? PO hell-kite ! all?

o H. inserts Wbar before All. text, o bell-kite all, &c. to the end of

p After all, P. T. H. W, and J. add, the speech, wbar, all? P. and H. omit in their


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