[Exit Captain, attended.]
Enter Ross and Angus.
Who comes here?
MALCOLM.
The worthy Thane of Ross.
LENNOX.
What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look
That seems to speak things strange.
ROSS.
God save the King!
DUNCAN.
Whence cam’st thou, worthy thane?
ROSS.
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.
DUNCAN.
Great happiness!
ROSS.
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.