King.
What bloody man is that? He can report,
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
The newest state.

Mal.
This is the serjeant^{6 note},
Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
'Gainst my captivity:—Hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil,

As thou didst leave it.

Cap.
Doubtful it stood^{7 note};
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together,
And choak their art. The merciless Macdonel^{8 note}
(Worthy to be a rebel; for, to that,
The multiplying villanies of nature
Do swarm upon him) ^{9 note}

Shew'd like a rebel's whore: But all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel,
Which smoak'd with bloody execution,
Like valour's minion, carved out his passage,
'Till he fac'd the slave:
And ne'er shook hands^{2 note}, nor bade farewel to him,
'Till ^{3 note}

King.
Oh, valiant cousin! worthy gentleman!

Cap.
^{4 note}

Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break^{5 note};
So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to come,
^{6 note}Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark:
No sooner justice had, with valour arm'd,
Compell'd these skipping Kernes to trust their heels;
But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage,

With furbish'd arms, and new supplies of men,
Began a fresh assault.

King.
Dismay'd not this
Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?

Cap.
Yes;
As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were
^{7 note}