Malc. Mercifull Heauen:
What man, ne're pull your hat vpon your browes:
Giue sorrow words; the griefe that do's not speake,
Whispers the o're-fraught heart, and bids it breake

Macd. My Children too?
Ro. Wife, Children, Seruants, all that could be found

Macd. And I must be from thence? My wife kil'd too?
Rosse. I haue said

Malc. Be comforted.
Let's make vs Med'cines of our great Reuenge,
To cure this deadly greefe

Macd. He ha's no Children. All my pretty ones?
Did you say All? Oh Hell-Kite! All?
What, All my pretty Chickens, and their Damme
At one fell swoope?
Malc. Dispute it like a man

Macd. I shall do so:
But I must also feele it as a man;
I cannot but remember such things were
That were most precious to me: Did heauen looke on,
And would not take their part? Sinfull Macduff,
They were all strooke for thee: Naught that I am,
Not for their owne demerits, but for mine
Fell slaughter on their soules: Heauen rest them now