SCENE VI.
The Outside of Macbeth's Castle.
Enter Rosse, with an old Man.
Old Man.
Threescore and ten I can remember well,
Within the volume of which time, I've seen
Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.
Rosse.
Ah, good father,
Thou seest, the heav'ns, as troubled with man's act,
1 noteThreaten this 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,
-- 371 --
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. &wlquo;On Tuesday last,
&wlquo;A faulcon, towring 2 notein her pride of place,
&wlquo;Was by a mousing owl hawkt at, and kill'd.&wrquo;
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 man.
Old M.
'Tis said, they eat each other.
Rosse.
They did so; to the 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 stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them
Suspicion of the Deed.
Rosse.
'Gainst nature still;—
Thriftless ambition! that wilt ravin up
Thine own life's means.—Then 'tis most like,
The Sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth?
Macd.
He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone
-- 372 --
To be invested.
Rosse.
Where is Duncan's body?
Macd.
Carried to Colmes-hill,
The sacred storehouse 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, and with those.
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes.
[Exeunt.
Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
