Макбет

           Lord:ThesonofDuncan,

           Fromwhomthistyrantholdsthedueofbirth

           LivesintheEnglishcourt,andisreceived

           OfthemostpiousEdwardwithsuchgrace

           Thatthemalevolenceoffortunenothing

           Takesfromhishighrespect:thitherMacduff

           Isgonetopraytheholyking,uponhisaid

           TowakeNorthumberlandandwarlikeSiward:

           That,bythehelpofthese—withHimabove

           Toratifythework—wemayagain

           Givetoourtablesmeat,sleeptoournights,

           Freefromourfeastsandbanquetsbloodyknives,

           Dofaithfulhomageandreceivefreehonours:

           Allwhichwepinefornow:andthisreport

           Hathsoexasperatethekingthathe

           Preparesforsomeattemptofwar.

           Lennox:SenthetoMacduff?

           Lord:Hedid:andwithanabsolute‘sir,notI,’

           Thecloudymessengerturnsmehisback,

           Andhums,aswhoshouldsay‘You’llruethetime

           Thatclogsmewiththisanswer.’

           Lennox:Andthatwellmight

           Advisehimtoacaution,toholdwhatdistance

           Hiswisdomcanprovide.Someholyangel

           FlytothecourtofEnglandandunfold

           Hismessageerehecome,thataswiftblessing

           Maysoonreturntothisoursufferingcountry

           Underahandaccursed!

           Lord:I’llsendmyprayerswithhim.

           Exeunt