Ross. No mind that's honest But in it shares some woe; though the main part Pertains to you alone. Macduff. If it be mine, Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. Ross. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound That ever yet they heard. Macduff. Hum! I guess at it. Ross. Your castle is surpris'd; your wife and babes. Malcolm. Mercifull heaven! s; What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break. Let's make us medicines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief. Roß. Es ist kein ehrlich' Herz, das seinen Theil Nicht nähm' an diesem Weh', obschon das Meiste Nur Euch allein gehört. Macduff. Wenn's mein denn ist, So haltet's nicht zurück, und gebt mir's schnell! RoB. Laßt Euer Ohr nicht hassen meinen Mund Macduff. Ich ahn' es! Roß. Euer Schloß ward überfallen, Ermordet Euer Weib und Eure Kinder; Die wilde Art erzählen, hieße nur Zum Tod der Theuren auch den Euren fügen! Malcolm. güt'ger Gott! Wie, Mann! zieht nicht den Hut So über Eure Brauen! Sprecht ihn aus, Den Schmerz im Wort! Der Kummer, der nicht spricht, Er flüstert fort im Herzen, bis es bricht! Kommt laßt Euch trösten! Wir bereiten uns Aus uns'rer großen Rachethat Arznei Für diese Wunde. He has no children. Macduff. All my pretty ones? Did you say all? O hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop? Dispute it like a man. Malcolm. Macduff. I shall do so; But I must also feel it as a man: I cannot but remember such things were, Did heaven look on, And would not take their part? Sinfull Macduff, They were all struck for thee! naught that I am, Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now! Malcolm. Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief Macduff. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes And braggart with my tongue! - But, gentle heavens, Cut short all intermission; front to front Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; Within my sword's length set him; if he' scape, Heaven forgive him too! Malcolm. This tune goes manly. Come, go we to the king; our power is ready; Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may : The night is long that never finds the day. (Exeunt.) Macduff. Er hat keine Kinder! Und alle meine lieben Kleinen? Alle, Habt Ihr gesagt? O Höllengeier! Alle? Malcolm. Besprecht's als Mann! Das werde ich, wenn ich's gefühlt als Mann, Für ihre nicht, für deine Schuld erfaßte Malcolm. Nehmt's hin als Wetstein Eures Schwert's; Laßt Euren Kummer sich in Zorn verwandeln; Ich könnt' mit meinen Augen jezt das Weib. Malcolm. Jezt klingt es männlich. Komm, wir geh'n zum König. Der Abschied. Macbeth ist zum Sturze reif, Die ober'n Mächte! Was dich drückt, ertrag! (Sie gehen ab.) ACT V. Scene I. Dunsinane. Ante-room in the castle. Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman. Doctor. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked! Gentlewoman. Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep. Doctor. A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching! In this slumbery agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances, what, at any time, have you heard her say? Gentlewoman. That, sir, which I will not report after her. Doctor. You may to me; and 'tis most meet you should. |