Act 1, Scene 2
A camp near Forres.
- Alarum within. Enter King Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain,
- Lennox, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant.
Duncan3 - 5
- What bloody man is that? He can report,
- As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
- The newest state.
Malcolm6 - 10
- This is the sergeant,
- Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
- ’Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!
- Say to the King the knowledge of the broil
- As thou didst leave it.
Sergeant11 - 27
- Doubtful it stood,
- As two spent swimmers that do cling together
- And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald
- (Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
- The multiplying villainies of nature
- Do swarm upon him) from the Western Isles
- Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied,
- And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
- Show’d like a rebel’s whore. But all’s too weak;
- For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name),
- Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish’d steel,
- Which smok’d with bloody execution,
- (Like Valor’s minion) carv’d out his passage
- Till he fac’d the slave;
- Which nev’r shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
- Till he unseam’d him from the nave to th’ chops,
- And fix’d his head upon our battlements.
- O valiant cousin, worthy gentleman!
Sergeant29 - 37
- As whence the sun gins his reflection
- Shipwracking 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 valor 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.
Duncan38 - 39
- Dismay’d not this
- Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
Sergeant40 - 48
- As sparrows eagles; or the hare the lion.
- If I say sooth, I must report they were
- As cannons overcharg’d with double cracks, so they
- Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe.
- Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
- Or memorize another Golgotha,
- I cannot tell—
- But I am faint, my gashes cry for help.
Duncan49 - 53
- So well thy words become thee as thy wounds,
- They smack of honor both. Go get him surgeons.
- Exit Sergeant, attended.
- Enter Rosse and Angus.
- Who comes here?
- The worthy Thane of Rosse.
Lennox55 - 56
- What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look
- That seems to speak things strange.
- God save the King!
- Whence cam’st thou, worthy thane?
Rosse59 - 69
- 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.
- Great happiness!
Rosse71 - 75
- 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.
Duncan76 - 78
- No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive
- Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death,
- And with his former title greet Macbeth.
- I’ll see it done.
- What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath won.