The untimely emptying of the happy throne, Mal. With this there grows, 351 In my most ill-compos'd affection, such Macd. This avarice Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Of your mere own: all these are portable, Mal. But I have none: The king-becoming As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, 270 Devotion, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, In the division of each several crime, Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should Uproar the universal peace, confound Macd. Oh Scotland! Scotland! Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: I am as I have spoken. Macd. Fit to govern! No, not to live.O nation miserable, When shalt thou see thy wholsome days again? Since that the truest issue of thy throne And does blaspheme his breed ?—Thy royal father Oftner upon her knees than on her feet, Dy'd every day she liv'd. Fare thee well! Have banish'd me from Scotland.-O, my breast, Mal. Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul. 391 Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts To the 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 400 Deal Deal beween thee and me! for even now 410 No less in truth, than life: my first false speaking Is thine, and my poor country's, to command: Now we'll together; and the chance, of goodness, Enter a Doctor. 421 Mal. Well; more anon.-Comes the king forth, I pray you? Doct. Ay, sir: there are a crew of wretched souls, That stay his cure: their malady convinces The great assay of art; but, at his touch, They presently amend. Mal. I thank you, doctor. [Exit. Macd. What's the disease he means? Mal. 'Tis call'd the evil : A most miraculous work in this good king; To the succeeding royalty he leaves 430 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 RossE. Macd. See, who comes here? 441 Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him not. Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. Mal. I know him now: good God, betimes remove The means that make us strangers! Rosse. Sir, Amen. Macd. Stands Scotland where it did Rosse. Alas, poor country; Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot 450 Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where nothing, But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the air, H Are Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems Is there scarce ask'd, for whom; and good men's lives Macd. Oh, relation, Too nice, and yet too true! Mal. What is the newest grief? 460 Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker; Each minute teems a new one. Macd. How does my wife? Rosse. Why, well. Macd. And all iny Rosse. Well too. children? Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace! Rosse. No; they were all at peace, when I did leave them.' 471 Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech; how goes it? Which was to my belief witness'd the rather, Mal. Be it their comfort, 480 That |