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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

Page 318

by William Shakespeare


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

  MACDUFF’S SON If he were dead you’d 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 Messenger

  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?

  Enter Murderers

  What are these faces?

  A MURDERER Where is your husband?

  LADY MACDUFF

  I hope in no place so unsanctified

  Where such as thou mayst find him.

  A MURDERER

  He’s a traitor.

  MACDUFF’S SON

  Thou liest, thou shag-haired villain.

  A MURDERER (stabbing him)

  What, you egg!

  Young fry of treachery!

  MACDUFF’S SON

  He has killed me, mother.

  Run away, I pray you.

  ⌈He dies.⌉ Exit Macduff’s Wife crying ‘Murder!’

  followed by Murderers ⌈with the Son’s body⌉

  4.3 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 downfall 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 yelled 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 touched you yet. I am young, but

  something

  You may discern of him through me: and wisdom

  To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb

  T’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 affeered. 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 opened black Macbeth

  Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state

  Esteem him as a lamb, being compared

  With my confineless harms.

  MACDUFF

  Not in the legions

  Of horrid hell can come a devil more damned

  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

  Th’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 inclined.

  MALCOLM

  With this there grows

  In my most ill-composed affection such

  A staunchless 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 foisons to fill up your will

  Of your mere own. All these are portable,

  With other graces weighed.

  MALCOLM

  But I have none. The king-becoming graces,

  As justice, verity, temp’rance, stableness,

  Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,

  Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,

  I have no relish of them, but abound

  In the division of each several crime,

&nbs
p; 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-sceptered,

  When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,

  Since that the truest issue of thy throne

  By his own interdiction stands accursed

  And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father

  Was a most sainted king. The Queen that bore thee,

  Oft‘ner upon her knees than on her feet,

  Died every day she lived. Fare thee well.

  These evils thou repeat’st upon thyself

  Hath banished 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, reconciled 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

  ’is hard to reconcile.

  Enter a Doctor

  MALCOLM

  Well, more anon. (To the Doctor) 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 essay 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

  ’is called 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 swoll’n 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 ’is 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.

  Enter Ross

  MACDUFF

  See who comes here.

  MALCOLM

  My countryman, but yet I know him not.

  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 called our mother, but our grave, where nothing

  But who knows nothing is once seen to smile;

  Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air

  Are made, not marked; where violent sorrow seems

  A modern ecstasy. The dead man’s knell

  Is there scarce asked 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 battered 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 witnessed the rather

  For that I saw the tyrant’s power afoot.

  Now is the time of help. (To Malcolm) 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 howled 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

  H’m, I guess at it.

  ROSS

  Your castle is surprised, your wife and babes

  Savagely slaughtered. To relate the manner

  Were on the quarry of these murdered deer

  To add the death of you.

  MALCOLM

  Merciful heaven!

  (To Macduff) What, man, ne’er pull your hat upon

  your brows.

  Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak

  Whispers the o’erfraught 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 killed 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 eyes

  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

  5.1 Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman

  DOCTOR I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked?

  GENTLEWOMAN Since his majesty went into the field I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon’t, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed, yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

  DOCTOR A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep and do the effects of watching. In this slumbery agitation besides her walking and other actual performances, what at any time have you heard her say?

  GENTLEWOMAN That, sir, which I will not report after her.

  DOCTOR You may to me; and ’tis most meet you should.

  GENTLEWOMAN Neither to you nor anyone, having no witness to confirm my speech.

  Enter Lady Macbeth with a taper

  Lo you, here she comes. This is her very guise, and,

  upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her. Stand close.

  DOCTOR How came she by that light?

 

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