Macduff, this Noble passion
Macbeth,
Seywardwith ten thousand warlike men
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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="3">
<head rend="italic center">Sc<gap/>na Tertia.</head>
<head type="supplied">[Act 4, Scene 3]</head>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Malcolme and Macduffe.</stage>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1714">Let vs seeke out some desolate shade, & there</l>
<l n="1715">Weepe our sad bosomes empty.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1716">Let vs rather</l>
<l n="1717">Hold fast the mortall Sword: and like good men,</l>
<l n="1718">Bestride our downfall Birthdome: each new Morne,</l>
<l n="1719">New Widdowes howle, new Orphans cry, new sorowes</l>
<l n="1720">Strike heauen on the face, that it resounds</l>
<l n="1721">As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out</l>
<l n="1722">Like Syllable of Dolour.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1723">What I beleeue, Ile waile;</l>
<l n="1724">What know, beleeue; and what I can redresse,</l>
<l n="1725">As I shall finde the time to friend: I wil.</l>
<l n="1726">What you haue spoke, it may be so perchance.</l>
<l n="1727">This Tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,</l>
<l n="1728">Was once thought honest: you haue lou'd him well,</l>
<l n="1729">He hath not touch'd you yet. I am yong, but something</l>
<l n="1730">You may discerne of him through me, and wisedome</l>
<l n="1731">To offer vp a weake, poore innocent Lambe</l>
<l n="1732">T'appease an angry God.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1733">I am not treacherous.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Malc.</speaker>
<l n="1734">But<hi rend="italic">Macbeth</hi>is.</l>
<l n="1735">A good and vertuous Nature may recoyle</l>
<l n="1736">In an Imperiall charge. But I shall craue your pardon:</l>
<l n="1737">That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose;</l>
<l n="1738">Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.</l>
<l n="1739">Though all things foule, would wear the brows of grace</l>
<l n="1740">Yet Grace must still looke so.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1741">I haue lost my Hopes.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Malc.</speaker>
<l n="1742">Perchance euen there</l>
<l n="1743">Where I did finde my doubts.</l>
<l n="1744">Why in that rawnesse left you Wife, and Childe?</l>
<l n="1745">Those precious Motiues, those strong knots of Loue,</l>
<l n="1746">Without leaue‑taking. I pray you,</l>
<l n="1747">Let not my Iealousies, be your Dishonors,</l>
<l n="1748">But mine owne Safeties: you may be rightly iust,</l>
<l n="1749">What euer I shall thinke.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1750">Bleed, bleed poore Country,</l>
<l n="1751">Great Tyrrany, lay thou thy basis sure,</l>
<l n="1752">For goodnesse dare not check thee: wear y<c rend="superscript">u</c>thy wrongs,</l>
<l n="1753">The Title, is affear'd. Far thee well Lord,</l>
<l n="1754">I would not be the Villaine that thou think'st,</l>
<l n="1755">For the whole Space that's in the Tyrants Graspe,</l>
<l n="1756">And the rich East to boot.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1757">Be not offended:</l>
<l n="1758">I speake not as in absolute feare of you:</l>
<l n="1759">I thinke our Country sinkes beneath the yoake,</l>
<l n="1760">It weepes, it bleeds, and each new day a gash</l>
<l n="1761">Is added to her wounds. I thinke withall,</l>
<l n="1762">There would be hands vplifted in my right:</l>
<l n="1763">And heere from gracious England haue I offer</l>
<l n="1764">Of goodly thousands. But for all this,</l>
<l n="1765">When I shall treade vpon the Tyrants head,</l>
<l n="1766">Or weare it on my Sword; yet my poore Country</l>
<note resp="#ES">An ink mark follows the end of this line.</note>
<l n="1767">Shall haue more vices then it had before,</l>
<l n="1768">More suffer, and more sundry wayes then euer,</l>
<note resp="#ES">An ink mark follows the end of this line.</note>
<l n="1769">By him that shall succeede.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1770">What should he be?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1771">It is my selfe I meane: in whom I know</l>
<l n="1772">All the particulars of Vice so grafted,</l>
<cb n="2"/>
<l n="1773">That when they shall be open'd, blacke<hi rend="italic">Macbeth</hi>
</l>
<l n="1774">Will seeme as pure as Snow, and the poore State</l>
<l n="1775">Esteeme him as a Lambe, being compar'd</l>
<l n="1776">With my confinelesse harmes.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1777">Not in the Legions</l>
<l n="1778">Of horrid Hell, can come a Diuell more damn'd</l>
<l n="1779">In euils, to top<hi rend="italic">Macbeth</hi>.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1780">I grant him Bloody,</l>
<l n="1781">Luxurious, Auaricious, False, Deceitfull,</l>
<l n="1782">Sodaine, Malicious, smacking of euery sinne</l>
<l n="1783">That ha's a name. But there's no bottome, none</l>
<l n="1784">In my Voluptuousnesse: Your Wiues, your Daughters,</l>
<l n="1785">Your Matrons, and your Maides, could not fill vp</l>
<l n="1786">The Cesterne of my Lust, and my Desire</l>
<l n="1787">All continent Impediments would ore‑beare</l>
<l n="1788">That did oppose my will. Better<hi rend="italic">Macbeth</hi>,</l>
<l n="1789">Then such an one to reigne.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1790">Boundlesse intemperance</l>
<l n="1791">In Nature is a Tyranny: It hath beene</l>
<l n="1792">Th'vntimely emptying of the happy Throne,</l>
<l n="1793">And fall of many Kings. But feare not yet</l>
<l n="1794">To take vpon you what is yours: you may</l>
<l n="1795">Conuey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,</l>
<l n="1796">And yet seeme cold. The time you may so hoodwinke:</l>
<l n="1797">We haue willing Dames enough: there cannot be</l>
<l n="1798">That Vulture in you, to deuoure so many</l>
<l n="1799">As will to Greatnesse dedicate themselues,</l>
<l n="1800">Finding it so inclinde.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1801">With this, there growes</l>
<l n="1802">In my most ill‑compos'd Affection, such</l>
<l n="1803">A stanchlesse Auarice, that were I King,</l>
<l n="1804">I should cut off the Nobles for their Lands,</l>
<l n="1805">Desire his Iewels, and this others House,</l>
<l n="1806">And my more‑hauing, would be as a Sawce</l>
<l n="1807">To make me hunger more, that I should forge</l>
<l n="1808">Quarrels vniust against the Good and Loyall,</l>
<l n="1809">Destroying them for wealth.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1810">This Auarice</l>
<l n="1811">stickes deeper: growes with more pernicious roote</l>
<l n="1812">Then Summer‑seeming Lust: and it hath bin</l>
<l n="1813">The Sword of our slaine Kings: yet do not feare,</l>
<l n="1814">Scotland hath Foysons, to fill vp your will</l>
<l n="1815">Of your meere Owne. All these are portable,</l>
<l n="1816">With other Graces weigh'd.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1817">But I haue none. The King‑becoming Graces,</l>
<l n="1818">As Iustice, Verity, Temp'rance, Stablenesse,</l>
<l n="1819">Bounty, Perseuerance, Mercy, Lowlinesse,</l>
<l n="1820">Deuotion, Patience, Courage, Fortitude,</l>
<l n="1821">I haue no rellish of them, but abound</l>
<l n="1822">In the diuision of each seuerall Crime,</l>
<l n="1823">Acting it many wayes. Nay, had I powre, I should</l>
<l n="1824">Poure the sweet Milke of Concord, into Hell,</l>
<l n="1825">Vprore the vniuersall peace, confound</l>
<l n="1826">All vnity on earth.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1827">O Scotland, Scotland.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1828">If such a one be fit to gouerne, speake:</l>
<l n="1829">I am as I haue spoken.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcb">
<speaker rend="italic">Mac.</speaker>
<l n="1830">Fit to gouern? No not to liue. O<choice>
<abbr>Natiō</abbr>
<expan>Nation</expan>
</choice>miserable!</l>
<l n="1831">With an vntitled Tyrant, bloody Sceptred,</l>
<l n="1832">When shalt thou see thy wholsome dayes againe?</l>
<l n="1833">Since that the truest Issue of thy Throne</l>
<l n="1834">By his owne Interdiction stands accust,</l>
<l n="1835">And do's blaspheme his breed? Thy Royall Father</l>
<l n="1836">Was a most Sainted‑King: the Queene that bore thee,</l>
<l n="1837">Oftner vpon her knees, then on her feet,</l>
<l n="1838">Dy'de euery day she liu'd. Fare thee well,</l>
<pb facs="FFimg:axc0757-0.jpg" n="147"/>
<cb n="1"/>
<l n="1839">These Euils thou repeat'st vpon thy selfe,</l>
<l n="1840">Hath banish'd me from Scotland. O my Brest,</l>
<l n="1841">Thy hope ends heere.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1842">
<hi rend="italic">Macduff</hi>, this Noble passion</l>
<l n="1843">Childe of integrity, hath from my soule</l>
<l n="1844">Wip'd the blacke Scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts</l>
<l n="1845">To thy good Truth, and Honor. Diuellish<hi rend="italic">Macbeth</hi>,</l>
<l n="1846">By many of these traines, hath sought to win me</l>
<l n="1847">Into his power: and modest Wisedome pluckes me</l>
<l n="1848">From ouer‑credulous hast: but God aboue</l>
<l n="1849">Deale betweene thee and me; For euen now</l>
<l n="1850">I put my selfe to thy Direction, and</l>
<l n="1851">Vnspeake mine owne detraction. Heere abiure</l>
<l n="1852">The taints, and blames I laide vpon my selfe,</l>
<l n="1853">For strangers to my Nature. I am yet</l>
<l n="1854">Vnknowne to Woman, neuer was forsworne,</l>
<l n="1855">Scarsely haue coueted what was mine owne:</l>
<l n="1856">At no time broke my Faith, would not betray</l>
<l n="1857">The Deuill to his Fellow, and delight</l>
<l n="1858">No lesse in truth then life. My first false speaking</l>
<l n="1859">Was this vpon my selfe. What I am truly</l>
<l n="1860">Is thine, and my poore Countries to command:</l>
<l n="1861">Whither indeed, before they heere approach</l>
<l n="1862">Old<hi rend="italic">Seyward</hi>with ten thousand warlike men</l>
<l n="1863">Already at a point, was setting foorth:</l>
<l n="1864">Now wee'l together, and the chance of goodnesse</l>
<l n="1865">Be like our warranted Quarrell. Why are you silent?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1866">Such welcome, and vnwelcom things<gap extent="1"
unit="words"
reason="illegible"
agent="inkBlot"
resp="#ES"/>once</l>
<l n="1867">'Tis hard to reconcile.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter a Doctor.</stage>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1868">Well, more anon. Comes the King forth</l>
<l n="1869">I pray you?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-doc">
<speaker rend="italic">Doct.</speaker>
<l n="1870">I Sir: there are a crew of wretched Soules</l>
<l n="1871">That stay his Cure: their malady conuinces</l>
<l n="1872">The great assay of Art. But at his touch,</l>
<l n="1873">Such sanctity hath Heauen giuen his hand,</l>
<l n="1874">They presently amend.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1875">I thanke you Doctor.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1876">What's the Disease he meanes?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1877">Tis call'd the Euill.</l>
<l n="1878">A most myraculous worke in this good King,</l>
<l n="1879">Which often since my heere remaine in England,</l>
<l n="1880">I haue seene him do: How he solicites heauen</l>
<l n="1881">Himselfe best knowes: but strangely visited people</l>
<l n="1882">All swolne and Vlcerous, pittifull to the eye,</l>
<l n="1883">The meere dispaire of Surgery, he cures,</l>
<l n="1884">Hanging a golden stampe about their neckes,</l>
<l n="1885">Put on with holy Prayers, and 'tis spoken</l>
<l n="1886">To the succeeding Royalty he leaues</l>
<l n="1887">The healing Benediction. With this strange vertue,</l>
<l n="1888">He hath a heauenly guift of Prophesie,</l>
<l n="1889">And sundry Blessings hang about his Throne,</l>
<l n="1890">That speake him full of Grace.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Rosse.</stage>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1891">See who comes heere.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Malc.</speaker>
<l n="1892">My Countryman: but yet I know him not.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1893">My euer gentle Cozen, welcome hither.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Malc.</speaker>
<l n="1894">I know him now. Good God betimes remoue</l>
<l n="1895">The meanes that makes vs Strangers.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1896">Sir, Amen.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1897">Stands Scotland where it did<c rend="italic">?</c>
</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1898">Alas poore Countrey,</l>
<l n="1899">Almost affraid to know it selfe. It cannot</l>
<l n="1900">Be call'd our Mother, but our Graue; where nothing</l>
<l n="1901">But who knowes nothing, is once seene to smile:</l>
<l n="1902">Where sighes, and groanes, and shrieks that rent the ayre</l>
<cb n="2"/>
<l n="1903">Are made, not mark'd: Where violent sorrow seemes</l>
<l n="1904">A Moderne extasie: The Deadmans knell,</l>
<l n="1905">Is there scarse ask'd for who, and good mens liues</l>
<l n="1906">Expire before the Flowers in their Caps,</l>
<l n="1907">Dying, or ere they sicken.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1908">Oh Relation; too nice, and yet too true.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Malc.</speaker>
<l n="1909">What's the newest griefe?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1910">That of an houres age, doth hisse the speaker,</l>
<l n="1911">Each minute teemes a new one.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1912">How do's my Wife?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1913">Why well.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1914">And all my Children?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1915">Well too.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1916">The Tyrant ha's not batter'd at their peace?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1917">No, they were wel at peace, when I did leaue 'em</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1918">Be not a niggard of your speech: How gos't?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1919">When I came hither to transport the Tydings</l>
<l n="1920">Which I haue heauily borne, there ran a Rumour</l>
<l n="1921">Of many worthy Fellowes, that were out,</l>
<l n="1922">Which was to my beleefe witnest the rather,</l>
<l n="1923">For that I saw the Tyrants Power a‑foot.</l>
<l n="1924">Now is the time of helpe: your eye in Scotland</l>
<l n="1925">Would create Soldiours, make our women fight,</l>
<l n="1926">To doffe their dire distresses.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Malc.</speaker>
<l n="1927">Bee't their comfort</l>
<l n="1928">We are comming thither: Gracious England hath</l>
<l n="1929">Lent vs good<hi rend="italic">Seyward</hi>, and ten thousand men,</l>
<l n="1930">An older, and a better Souldier, none</l>
<l n="1931">That Christendome giues out.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1932">Would I could answer</l>
<l n="1933">This comfort with the like. But I haue words</l>
<l n="1934">That would be howl'd out in the desert ayre,</l>
<l n="1935">Where hearing should not latch them.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1936">What concerne they,</l>
<l n="1937">The generall cause, or is it a Fee‑griefe</l>
<l n="1938">Due to some single brest?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1939">No minde that's honest</l>
<l n="1940">But in it shares some woe, though the maine part</l>
<l n="1941">Pertaines to you alone.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1942">If it be mine</l>
<l n="1943">Keepe it not from me, quickly let me haue it.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1944">Let not your eares dispise my tongue for euer,</l>
<l n="1945">Which shall possesse them with the heauiest sound</l>
<l n="1946">That euer yet they heard.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1947">Humh: I guesse at it.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1948">Your Castle is surpriz'd: your Wife, and Babes</l>
<l n="1949">Sauagely slaughter'd: To relate the manner</l>
<l n="1950">Were on the Quarry of these murther'd Deere</l>
<l n="1951">To adde the death of you.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Malc.</speaker>
<l n="1952">Mercifull Heauen:</l>
<l n="1953">What man, ne're pull your hat vpon your browes:</l>
<l n="1954">Giue sorrow words; the griefe that do's not speake,</l>
<l n="1955">Whispers the o're‑fraught heart, and bids it breake.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1956">My Children too?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Ro.</speaker>
<l n="1957">Wife, Children, Seruants, all that could be found.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1958">And I must be from thence? My wife kil'd too<c rend="italic">?</c>
</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-ros">
<speaker rend="italic">Rosse.</speaker>
<l n="1959">I haue said.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Malc.</speaker>
<l n="1960">Be comforted.</l>
<l n="1961">Let's make vs Med'cines of our great Reuenge,</l>
<l n="1962">To cure this deadly greefe.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1963">He ha's no Children. All my pretty ones?</l>
<l n="1964">Did you say All? Oh Hell‑Kite! All?</l>
<l n="1965">What, All my pretty Chickens, and their Damme</l>
<l n="1966">At one fell swoope?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Malc.</speaker>
<l n="1967">Dispute it like a man.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1968">I shall do so:</l>
<pb facs="FFimg:axc0758-0.jpg" n="148"/>
<cb n="1"/>
<l n="1969">But I must also feele it as a man;</l>
<l n="1970">I cannot but remember such things were</l>
<l n="1971">That were most precious to me: Did heauen looke on,</l>
<l n="1972">And would not take their part? Sinfull<hi rend="italic">Macduff</hi>,</l>
<l n="1973">They were all strooke for thee: Naught that I am,</l>
<l n="1974">Not for their owne demerits, but for mine</l>
<l n="1975">Fell slaughter on their soules: Heauen rest them now.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1976">Be this the Whetstone of your sword, let griefe</l>
<l n="1977">Conuert to anger: blunt not the heart, enrage it.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mcd">
<speaker rend="italic">Macd.</speaker>
<l n="1978">O I could play the woman with mine eyes,</l>
<l n="1979">And Braggart with my tongue. But gentle Heauens,</l>
<l n="1980">Cut short all intermission: Front to Front,</l>
<l n="1981">Bring thou this Fiend of Scotland, and my selfe</l>
<l n="1982">Within my Swords length set him, if he scape</l>
<l n="1983">Heauen forgiue him too.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-mac-mal">
<speaker rend="italic">Mal.</speaker>
<l n="1984">This time goes manly:</l>
<l n="1985">Come go we to the King, our Power is ready,</l>
<l n="1986">Our lacke is nothing but our leaue.<hi rend="italic">Macbeth</hi>
</l>
<l n="1987">Is ripe for shaking, and the Powres aboue</l>
<l n="1988">Put on their Instruments: Receiue what cheere you may,</l>
<l n="1989">The Night is long, that neuer findes the Day.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt</stage>
</div>