Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear And take the present horror from the time, fuits with it.-Whilft I threat, he lives That fummons thee to heaven or to hell.. SHAKSPEARE. CHAP. XXIII. MACDUFF, MALCOLM, AND ROSSE. EE who comes here! MACD MAL. My countryman; but yet I know him not? MACD. My ever gentle coufin, welcome hither. MAL. I know him now. Good God, betimes remove The means that Makes us ftrangers! -RossE. Sir, Amen. MACD. Stands Scotland where it did? Rosse. Alas, poor country! Almoft afraid to know itself. It cannot Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where nothing, Is there scarce afk'd for whom, and good men's lives ROSSE. Than of an hour's age doth hifs the fpeaker, Each minute teems a new one. MACD. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? ROSSE. No? they were at peace when I did leave 'em. MACD. Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes it? Rosse. When I came hither to transport the tidings,, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour Of many worthy fellows that were out, Which was to my belief witness'd the rather, For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot. Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland Would create foldiers, and make women fight, To doff their dire diftreffes. MAL. Be't their comfort, We're coming thither: gracious England hath ROSSE. Would I could answer This comfort with the like; but I have words Rosse. No mind that's honeft, But in it shares fome woe; though the main part Pertains to you alone. MACD, MACD. If it be mine, Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. ROSSE. Let not your ears despise my tongue Which shall poffefs them with the heaviest found, MACD. Hum! I guess at it. for ever, ROSSE. Your caftle is furpris'd, your wife and babes . Savagely flaughter'd; to relate the manner, Were on the quarry of these murther'd deer To add the death of you.. MAL. Merciful Heaven! What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows, ROSSE. Wife, children, fervants, all that could be found. MAL. Be comforted. Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief. MACD. He has no children,-All my pretty ones! Did you fay all? what all? oh, hell-kite! all? MAL. Endure it like a man.. MACD. I fhall do fo ;; But I must also feel it as a man.. I cannot but remember fuch things were, That were most precious to me. Did Heav'n look on;, Fell flaughter on their fouls. Heav'n reft them now! MAL MAL. Be this the whet-ftone of your sword, let grief Convert to wrath ; blunt not the heart, enrage it. MAGD. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; MAL. This tune goes manly. Come, go we to the King, our power is ready; Put on their inftruments. Receive what cheer you may; The night is long that never finds the day. SHAKSPEARE. CHA P. XXIV. ANTONY'S SOLILOQUY OVER CÆSAR's BODY, PARDON me, thou bleeding piece of earth! That I am meek and gentle with these butchers. Thou art the ruins of the noblest man That ever lived in the tide of times. Woe to the hand that shed this coftly blood! Over thy wounds now do I prophefy, (Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue) That That mothers fhall but fmile, when they behold With Até by his fide come hot from hell CHA P. XXV. SHAKSPEARE ANTONY'S FUNERAL ORATION OVER CESAR's BODY. FRIENDS, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears, I come to bury Cæfar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; Here, under leave of Brutus, and the reft, He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Did this in Cæfar feem ambitious? When that the poor have cry'd, Cæfar hath wept ;. Ambition |