Page 19
Ross:
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 mankind.
Old Man:
’Tis said they eat each other.
Ross:
They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,
That look’d upon’t.
Here comes the good Macduff.
Enter Macduff.
How goes the world, sir, now?
Macduff:
Why, see you not?
Ross:
Is’t known who did this more than bloody deed?
Macduff:
Those that Macbeth hath slain.
Ross:
Alas, the day!
What good could they pretend?
Macduff:
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.
Ross:
’Gainst nature still:
Thriftless ambition, that will ravin up
Thine own life’s means!—Then ’tis most like
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
Macduff:
He is already nam’d; and gone to Scone
To be invested.
Ross:
Where is Duncan’s body?
Macduff:
Carried to Colmekill,
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.
Ross:
Will you to Scone?
Macduff:
No, cousin, I’ll to Fife.
Ross:
Well, I will thither.
Macduff:
Well, may you see things well done there. Adieu!
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
Ross:
Farewell, father.
Old Man:
God’s benison go with you; and with those
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes!
(Exeunt.)