Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies Published according to the true originall copies.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Rosse, with an Old man.

Old man.

Threescore and ten I can remember well, Within the Volume of which Time, I haue seene Houres dreadfull, and things strange: but this sore Night Hath trifled former knowings.

Rosse.

Ha, good Father, Thou seest the Heauens, as troubled with mans Act, Threatens his bloody Stage: by th' Clock 'tis Day, And yet darke Night strangles the trauailing Lampe: Is't Nights predominance, or the Dayes shame, That Darknesse does the face of Earth intombe, When liuing Light should kisse it?

Old man.

'Tis vnnaturall, Euen like the deed that's done: On Tuesday last, A Faulcon to wring in her pride of place, Was by a Mowsing Owle hawkt at, and kill'd.

Rosse.

And Duncans Horses, (A thing most strange, and certaine) Beauteous, and swift, the Minions of their Race, Turn'd wilde in nature, broke their s••lls, flong out, Contending 'gainst Obedience, as they would Make Warre with Mankinde.

Old man.

'Tis said, they eate each other.

Rosse.

They did so:

To th' amazement of mine eyes that look'd vpon't.

Enter Macduffe.

Heere comes the good Macduffe. How goes the world Sir, now?

Macd.

Why see you not?

Ross.

Is't known who did this more then bloody deed?

Macd.

Those that Macbeth hath slaine.

Ross.

Alas the day, What good could they pretend?

Macd.

They were subborned, Malcolme, and Donalbaine the Kings two Sonnes Are stolne away and fled, which puts vpon them Suspition of the deed.

Rosse.

'Gainst Nature still, Thriftlesse Ambition, that will rauen vp Thine owne liues meanes: Then 'tis most like, The Soueraignty will fall vpon Macbeth.

Macd.

He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone To be inuested.

Rosse.

Where is Duncans body?

Macd.

Carried to Colmekill, The Sacred Store-house of his Predecessors, And Guardian of their Bones.

Rosse.

Will you to Scone?

Macd.

No Cosin, Ile to Fife.

Rosse.

Well, I will thither.

Macd.

Well may you see things wel done there: Adieu Least our old Robes sit easier then our new.

Rosse.

Farewell, Father.

Old M.

Gods benyson go with you, and with those That would make good of bad, and Friends of Foes.

Exeunt omnes