Mal. Merciful heaven!
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. 210
Macd. My children too?
Ross. Wife, children, servants, all[4494]
That could be found.[4494]
Macd. And I must be from thence![4494]
My wife kill'd too?[4494]
Ross. I have said.[4495]
Mal. Be comforted:
Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief. 215
Macd. He has no children. All my pretty ones?[4496]
Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?[4497][4498][4499]
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam[4498]
At one fell swoop?[4498]
Mal. Dispute it like a man.
Macd. I shall do so;[4500] 220
But I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,[4501] 225
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls: heaven rest them now!
Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief
Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.[4502]