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Enter ROSS and an old Man
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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 former knowings.
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Ah, good father,
Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day,
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:
Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,
That darkness does the face of earth entomb,
When living light should kiss it?
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'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
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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,
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
War with mankind.
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'Tis said they eat each other.
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They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes
That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff.
Enter MACDUFF
How goes the world, sir, now?
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Why, see you not?
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Is't known who did this more than bloody deed?
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Those that Macbeth hath slain.
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Alas, the day!
What good could they pretend?
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They were suborn'd:
Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.
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'Gainst nature still!
Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
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He is already named, and gone to Scone
To be invested.
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Where is Duncan's body?
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Carried to Colmekill,
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.
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Will you to Scone?
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No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
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Well, I will thither.
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Well, may you see things well done there: adieu!
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
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Farewell, father.
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God's benison go with you; and with those
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
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Exeunt