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Charles Gildon [1709–1710], The works of Mr. William Shakespear; in six [seven] volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts. Revis'd and Corrected, with an Account of the Life and Writings of the Author. By N. Rowe ([Vol. 7] Printed for E. Curll... and E. Sanger [etc.], London) [word count] [S11401].
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SCENE II. Enter Rosse, with an Old Man.

Old M.
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.

Rosse.
Ah, good Father,
Thou seest the Heavens, as troubled with Man's Act,
Threaten his bloody Stage: By th' 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 intomb,
When living Light should kiss it?

Old M.
'Tis unnatural,
Even like the Deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A Faulcon towring in her pride of Place,
Was by a mousing Owl hawkt at, and kill'd.

-- 2325 --

Rosse.
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.

Old M.
'Tis said, they eat each other.

Rosse.
They did so;
To th' amazement of mine Eyes, that look'd upon't. Enter Macduff.
Here comes the good Macduff.
How goes the World, Sir, now?

Macd.
Why see you not?

Rosse.
Is't known who did this more than bloody Deed?

Macd.
Those that Macbeth hath slain.

Rosse.
Alas the Day!
What good could they pretend?

Macd.
They were suborn'd;
Malcolm, and Donalbain, the King's two Sons,
Are stoln away and fled, which puts upon them
Suspicion of the Deed.

Rosse.
'Gainst Nature still;
Thriftless Ambition! that will raven upon
Thine own lives means; then 'tis most like
The Sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.

Macd.
He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone
To be invested.

Rosse.
Where is Duncan's Body?

Macd.
Carried to Colmeshill,
The Sacred Store-house of his Predecessors,
And Guardian of their Bones.

Rosse.
Will you to Scone?

Macd.
No, Cousin, I'll to Fife.

Rosse.
Well, I will thither.

Macd.
Well may you see, things well done there; adieu.
Lest our old Robes sit easier than our new.

Rosse.
Farewel, Father.

Old M.
God's benison go with you, Sir, and with those
That would make good of bad, and Friends of Foes.
[Exeunt.

-- 2326 --

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Charles Gildon [1709–1710], The works of Mr. William Shakespear; in six [seven] volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts. Revis'd and Corrected, with an Account of the Life and Writings of the Author. By N. Rowe ([Vol. 7] Printed for E. Curll... and E. Sanger [etc.], London) [word count] [S11401].
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