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

Mal.
This is the serjeant,
Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
'Gainst my captivity:—Hail ^note, hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil,
As thou did'st leave it.

Sol.
Doubtful it stood14Q0488;
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together,
And choak their art. The merciless Macdonel ^note
(Worthy to be a rebel; for, to that,
The multiplying villanies ^note of nature
Do swarm upon him) from the western isles
Of Kernes ^note and Gallow-glasses ^note is supply'd; ^note
And fortune, on his damned quarrel ^note smiling,
Shew'd like a rebel's whore: But all's too weak:
For brave Macbeth, (well he deserves that name)
Disdaining fortune, with his brandisht steel,
Which smok'd with bloody execution,
(Like valour's minion) carved out his passage,
'Till he had fac'd the slave:
And ne'er ^note shook hands, nor bad farewel to him,
'Till he unseam'd him from the nave to ^note the chops,
And fix'd his head upon our battlements.

Dun.
O valiant cousin, worthy gentleman!

Sol.
As whence the sun14Q0489 'gins his ^note reflection
Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break ^{note note};
So from that spring, whence comfort seem'd to come,
Discomfort wells. ^note 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 furbisht arms, and new supplies of men,
Began a fresh assault.

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

Sol.
Yes;
As sparrows, eagles; or the hare, the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were
As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks;
So they doubly redoubl'd strokes on the ^note foe:
Except they meant to bath in reeking ^note wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha,
I cannot tell:—
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.

Dun.
So well thy words become thee, as thy wounds;
They smack of honour both:—Go, get him surgeons. [Exeunt Some with the Soldier.
But who comes here? Enter Rosse, and Angus.

Mal.
The worthy thane of Rosse.

Len.
What haste ^note looks through his eyes! So should he look14Q0490,
That seems to speak things strange.

Ros.
God save the king!

Dun.
Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane?

Ros.
From Fife, great king;
Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky,
And fan our people cold.
Norway, himself with numbers terrible ^note,
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict:
'Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapt in proof,

Confronted him with self comparisons,
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit: And to conclude,
The victory fell on us.

Dun.
Great happiness!

Ros.
Now Sweno, Norway's ^note king, craves composition:
Nor would we deign him burial of his men,
'Till he disbursed, at saint Colme's ^note hill,
Ten thousand dollars to our general use.

Dun.
No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive
Our bosom interest:—Go, pronounce ^note his present death,
And with his former title greet ^note Macbeth.

Ros.
I'll see it done.

Dun.
What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won. [Exeunt.

Previous section

Next section