| |
[Outside Macbeth’s castle]
Enter ROSS and an Old Man
Old M. Threescore and ten I can remember well; | |
| Within the volume of which time I have seen | |
| Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night | |
| Hath trifled 1 former knowings. | 4 |
| Ross. Ah, good father, | |
| Thou seest the heavens, as troubled with man’s act, | |
| Threatens his bloody stage. By the clock ’tis day, | |
| And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp. 2 | 8 |
| Is’t night’s predominance or the day’s shame | |
| That darkness does the face of earth entomb, | |
| When living light should kiss it? | |
| Old M. ’Tis unnatural, | 12 |
| Even like the deed that’s done. On Tuesday last, | |
| A falcon, tow’ring in her pride of place, | |
| Was by a mousing owl hawk’d at and kill’d. | |
| Ross. And Duncan’s horses—a thing most strange and certain— | 16 |
| Beauteous and swift, the minions 3 of their race, | |
| Turn’d wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, | |
| Contending ’gainst obedience, as they would make | |
| War with mankind. | 20 |
| Old M. ’Tis said they eat each other. | |
| Ross. They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes | |
| That look’d upon ’t. | |
| |
Enter MACDUFF
Here comes the good Macduff. | 24 |
| How goes the world, sir, now? | |
| Macd. Why, see you not? | |
| Ross. Is’t known who did this more than bloody deed? | |
| Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slain. | 28 |
| Ross. Alas, the day! | |
| What good could they pretend? 4 | |
| Macd. They were suborn’d. | |
| Malcolm and Donalbain, the King’s two sons, | 32 |
| Are stolen away and fled; which puts upon them | |
| Suspicion of the deed. | |
| Ross. ’Gainst nature still! | |
| Thriftless ambition, that will ravin up 5 | 36 |
| Thine own life’s means! Then ’tis most like | |
| The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. | |
| Macd. He is already nam’d, and gone to Scone | |
| To be invested. | 40 |
| Ross. Where is Duncan’s body? | |
| Macd. Carried to Colmekill, | |
| The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, | |
| And guardian of their bones. | 44 |
| Ross. Will you to Scone? | |
| Macd. No, cousin, I’ll to Fife. | |
| Ross. Well, I will thither. | |
| Macd. Well, may you see things well done there,—adieu!— | 48 |
| Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! | |
| Ross. Farewell, father. | |
| Old M. God’s benison go with you; and with those | |
| That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! Exeunt. | 52 |
