| |
The Same. Without the Castle. | |
| |
Enter ROSS and an Old Man. | |
| Old Man. 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 | 5 |
| Hath trifled former knowings. | |
| Ross. Ah! good father, | |
| Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man’s act, | |
| Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock ’tis day, | |
| And yet darknight strangles the travelling lamp. | 10 |
| 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 Man. ’Tis unnatural, | |
| Even like the deed that’s done. On Tuesday last, | 15 |
| A falcon, towering 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,— | |
| Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, | |
| Turn’d wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, | 20 |
| Contending ’gainst obedience, as they would | |
| Make war with mankind. | |
| Old Man. ’Tis said they eat each other. | |
| Ross. They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes, | |
| That look’d upon ’t. Here comes the good Macduff. | 25 |
| |
Enter MACDUFF | |
| 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. | 30 |
| Ross. Alas, the day! | |
| What good could they pretend? | |
| Macd. They were suborn’d. | |
| Malcolm and Donalbain, the king’s two sons, | |
| Are stol’n away and fled, which puts upon them | 35 |
| Suspicion of the deed. | |
| Ross. ’Gainst nature still! | |
| Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up | |
| Thine own life’s means! Then ’tis most like | |
| The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. | 40 |
| Macd. He is already nam’d, and gone to Scone | |
| To be invested. | |
| Ross. Where is Duncan’s body? | |
| Macd. Carried to Colmekill; | |
| The sacred storehouse of his predecessors | 45 |
| And guardian of their bones. | |
| 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! | 50 |
| Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! | |
| Ross. Farewell, father. | |
| Old Man. God’s benison go with you; and with those | |
| That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! [Exeunt. | |
| |
