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Alarums within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant
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DUNCAN O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! Sergeant As whence the sun 'gins his reflection Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: No sooner justice had with valour arm'd Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men Began a fresh assault. DUNCAN Dismay'd not this Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? Sergeant Yes; As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. If I say sooth, I must report they were As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, Or memorise another Golgotha, I cannot tell. But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. |
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DUNCAN So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons. Exit Sergeant, attended Who comes here? Enter ROSS MALCOLM The worthy thane of Ross. LENNOX What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look That seems to speak things strange. ROSS God save the king! DUNCAN Whence camest thou, worthy thane? |
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ROSS From Fife, great king; Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky And fan our people cold. Norway himself, With terrible numbers, Assisted by that most disloyal traitor The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd 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. DUNCAN Great happiness! ROSS That now Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition: Nor would we deign him burial of his men Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch Ten thousand dollars to our general use. DUNCAN No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death, And with his former title greet Macbeth. ROSS I'll see it done. DUNCAN What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. Exeunt |
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| Act
1 scene 3 |
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