Home > Macbeth Text > Act IV, Scene III - Page 2

MACDUFF:

Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
’Tis hard to reconcile.

MACDUFF:

Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
Are hard to reconcile.

Enter a Doctor.

MALCOLM:

Well, more anon. Comes the King forth, I pray you?(155)

MALCOLM:

Well, more in a minute. Is the king coming, I beg you?

DOCTOR:

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,
Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand,
They presently amend.(160)

DOCTOR:

Yes, sir. There’s a group of wretched souls
That wait for his healing touch. Their malady overcomes
The best effort of art. They can only be cured
By his touch, such is the sanctity has heaven given his hand.

MALCOLM:

I thank you, Doctor.

MALCOLM:

I thank you, doctor.

Exit.

MACDUFF:

What's the disease he means?

MACDUFF:

What's the disease he means?

MALCOLM:

’Tis call'd the evil:
A most miraculous work in this good King,
Which often, since my here-remain in England,(165)
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
Himself best knows; but strangely-visited people,
All swol'n and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures,
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,(170)
Put on with holy prayers: and ’tis spoken,
To the succeeding royalty he leaves
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy,
And sundry blessings hang about his throne(175)
That speak him full of grace.

MALCOLM:

It is called “the evil,”
A most miraculous work in this good king,
Which often, since my stay in England,
I have seen him do. How he prays for help from heaven,
Only he knows best, because he cures strangers,
All swollen and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
And with no hope of surgery,
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
Put on them with holy prayers, and, it is said,
He leaves the healing benediction.
To the succeeding royalty.
With this strange virtue,
He has a heavenly gift of prophecy,
And various blessings hang about his throne,
That say he is full of grace.

Enter Ross.

MACDUFF:

See, who comes here?

MACDUFF:

See, who comes here?

MALCOLM:

My countryman: but yet I know him not.

MALCOLM:

My countryman, but I still don’t know him.

MACDUFF:

My ever gentle cousin, welcome hither.

MACDUFF:

My ever-gentle cousin, welcome here.

MALCOLM:

I know him now. Good God, betimes remove(180)
The means that makes us strangers!

MALCOLM:

Now I know him now. Good God, soon we’ll remove
The thing that makes us strangers!

ROSS:

Sir, amen.

ROSS:

Sir, amen.

MACDUFF:

Stands Scotland where it did?

MACDUFF:

Is the situation in Scotland the same?

ROSS:

Alas, poor country,
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot(185)
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 rend the air,
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
A modern ecstasy. The dead man's knell(190)
Is there scarce ask'd for who, and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying or ere they sicken.

ROSS:

Alas, poor country,
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Be called our mother, only our grave. where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile,
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks, that tear at the air,
Are made, not marked, where violent sorrow seems
A modern ecstasy. No one hardly asks who
The dead man's knell is for, and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying before the flowers show signs of sickness.

MACDUFF:

O, relation
Too nice, and yet too true!(195)

MACDUFF:

O, kinsman
Too nice, and yet too true!

MALCOLM:

What's the newest grief?

MALCOLM:

What's the newest grief?

ROSS:

That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker;
Each minute teems a new one.

ROSS:

The news accuses the speaker;
Each minute turns up a new one.

MACDUFF:

How does my wife?

MACDUFF:

How is my wife?

ROSS:

Why, well.(200)

ROSS:

Why, well.

MACDUFF:

And all my children?

MACDUFF:

And all my children?

ROSS:

Well too.

ROSS:

Well too.

MACDUFF:

The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

MACDUFF:

The tyrant has not taken action against them?

ROSS:

No; they were well at peace when I did leave ’em.

ROSS:

No; they were well at peace when I did leave them.

MACDUFF:

Be not a niggard of your speech. How goes't?(205)

MACDUFF:

Don’t mince words: how is it going?

ROSS:

When I came hither to transport the tidings,
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumor
Of many worthy fellows that were out,
Which was to my belief witness'd the rather,
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot:(210)
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses.

ROSS:

When I came here to transport the tidings,
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumor
Of many worthy fellows that were in the field,
Which I know to be true by surmising the enemy was marching,
because I saw Macbeth’s men were marching.
Now is help is coming. Your person in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To take off their pitiful miseries.

MALCOLM:

Be't their comfort
We are coming thither. Gracious England hath(215)
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
An older and a better soldier none
That Christendom gives out.

MALCOLM:

Let it be their comfort that
We are coming there. Gracious England has
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men.
Christendom doesn’t have
An older or a better soldier.

ROSS:

Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words(220)
That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Where hearing should not latch them.

ROSS:

I wish I could answer
This comfort with a similar one! But I have words
That would be howled out into the desert air,
Where hearing should not catch them.

MACDUFF:

What concern they?
The general cause? Or is it a fee-grief
Due to some single breast?(225)

MACDUFF:

What concern are they?
The general cause? Or is it a grief owned
Entirely by one person?

ROSS:

No mind that's honest
But in it shares some woe, though the main part
Pertains to you alone.

ROSS:

Only a mind that's honest
Could share some of this woe, although the main part
Pertains to you alone.

MACDUFF:

If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.(230)

MACDUFF:

If it’s mine,
Don’t keep it from me. Let me have it quickly.

ROSS:

Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound
That ever yet they heard.

ROSS:

Don’t let your ears hate what I’m going to say forever,
Which will hit them with the heaviest sound
That they have ever heard.

MACDUFF:

Humh! I guess at it.

MACDUFF:

Hmm… I guess at it.

ROSS:

Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes(235)
Savagely slaughter'd. To relate the manner
Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
To add the death of you.

ROSS:

There’s been a surprise attack on your castle. Your wife and babies
Savagely slaughtered. To relate the details
Would be, on the numbers of these murdered deer,
To add to your own death.

MALCOLM:

Merciful heaven!
What, man! Ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;(240)
Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er fraught heart, and bids it break.

MALCOLM:

Merciful heaven!
What, man! Don’t cover your face with only a sad look.
Give your sorrow words. The grief that does not speak
Builds up softly in the heart, and bids it break.

MACDUFF:

My children too?

MACDUFF:

My children too?

ROSS:

Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.(245)

ROSS:

Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.

MACDUFF:

And I must be from thence!
My wife kill'd too?

MACDUFF:

And I had to be away from home!
My wife killed too?

ROSS:

I have said.

ROSS:

I have said it.

MALCOLM:

Be comforted.
Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,(250)
To cure this deadly grief.

MALCOLM:

Be comforted.
Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.

MACDUFF:

He has no children. All my pretty ones?
Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?(255)

MACDUFF:

He has no children. All my pretty ones?
Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their mother
At one fell swoop?

MALCOLM:

Dispute it like a man.

MALCOLM:

Revenge it like a man.

MACDUFF:

I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man.
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,(260)
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! Naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!

MACDUFF:

I shall do so;
Only I must also feel it as a man.
I cannot only remember such things that were,
That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on
And would not take their side? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for you! Nothing that I am,
Not for their own sins, only for mine,
Cruel slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!

MALCOLM:

Be this the whetstone of your sword. Let grief(265)
Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.

MALCOLM:

Let this act be the stone that sharpens your sword. Let grief
Convert to anger. Don’t soothe the heart. Enrage it.

MACDUFF:

O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,
Cut short all intermission; front to front
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;(270)
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

MACDUFF:

O, I could cry like a woman with my eyes,
And brag with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,
Cut short all pauses in the action. Bring this fiend of Scotland
And myself face to face;
Put him within my sword's length; if he escapes,
Heaven might forgive him too!

MALCOLM:

This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the King; our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth(275)
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may;
The night is long that never finds the day.

MALCOLM:

Now you sound like a man.
Come, let’s go to the king; our power is ready;
The only thing is missing is our leaving. Macbeth
Is ready to fall, and the powers above
Show us the way. Receive what cheer you may.
Day follows night.

Exeunt.