Do That Again and I Will Cut Your Tongue Out You Old Donkey
Macbeth Translation Act 4, Scene three
MALCOLM and MACDUFF enter.
MALCOLM
Allow united states of america seek out some desolate shade and there Weep our lamentable bosoms empty.
MALCOLM
Let's find some private shady place where we can become and weep our hearts out.
MACDUFF
Let us rather Hold fast the mortal sword and, like good men, Bestride our downfall'n birthdom. Each new morning New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows Strike sky on the face, that it resounds As if it felt with Scotland and yelled out Like syllable of dolor.
MACDUFF
Instead, let's concur tight to our swords, and defend our fallen country like honorable men. Each morning new widows howl and new orphans cry. New sorrows wing upward to heaven and then that heaven itself echoes with the screams, and seems to feel Scotland'due south hurting.
MALCOLM
What I believe I'll wail; What know believe, and what I tin can redress, Equally I shall find the fourth dimension to friend, I will. What you have spoke, it may be so possibly. This tyrant, whose sole proper noun blisters our tongues, Was once thought honest. Yous have loved him well. He hath non touched you yet. I am young, but something You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb T' gratify an angry god.
MALCOLM
I will avenge whatever I believe is wrong. I'll believe whatsoever I know is true. And when the time is correct, I'll fix whatever I tin. What y'all've told me may in fact be true. This tyrant—whose mere name is so awful that maxim it puts blisters on our tongues—was once thought to be honest. You and he were neat friends. He's done nil yet to harm yous. I'm inexperienced, but you lot could win Macbeth'due south favor past betraying me and and then offering me upward to him like a sacrificial lamb to an aroused god.
MACDUFF
I am non treacherous.
MACDUFF
I am not treacherous.
MALCOLM
But Macbeth is. A good and virtuous nature may recoil In an imperial accuse. Merely I shall crave your pardon. That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose. Angels are bright withal, though the brightest fell. Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet grace must still expect and then.
MALCOLM
But Macbeth is. Even someone with a good and virtuous nature might give in to the control of this rex. Still, I beg your pardon. My fears don't change what y'all truly are. Angels are yet bright even though Lucifer, the brightest angel, fell from heaven. Though everything evil tries to disguise itself equally proficient, practiced must proceed to wait good likewise.
MACDUFF
I have lost my hopes.
MACDUFF
My hopes are lost.
MALCOLM
Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. Why in that rawness left you wife and kid, Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, Without exit-taking? I pray you, Permit not my jealousies exist your dishonors, But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, Whatever I shall recollect.
MALCOLM
Perhaps you lost your hope in the same identify I found my suspicions of y'all. Why did you leave backside your wife and child—the near precious things in your life that the stiff bonds of dearest should motivate you to protect—in that dangerous place, without fifty-fifty maxim good day? I beg yous, don't have my suspicion every bit an insult. I merely accept to protect myself. You may truly exist honest, no affair what I think.
MACDUFF
Drain, drain, poor land! Great tyranny, lay yard thy footing sure, For goodness cartel not check thee. Article of clothing thou thy wrongs; The title is affeered.—Fare thee well, lord. I would not exist the villain that thou remember'st For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, And the rich East to boot.
MACDUFF
Drain, bleed, my poor country! Terrible tyrant, be comfortable in your position, because good people fright to confront you. Enjoy what you stole, because your title is safe!
[To MALCOLM] Goodbye, my lord. I wouldn't be the villain that you think I am, even if I were offered all of Macbeth's kingdom and the wealth of the East equally well.
MALCOLM
Be not offended. I speak not every bit in absolute fear of you. I think our country sinks beneath the yoke. It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash Is added to her wounds. I think withal In that location would be hands uplifted in my right; And here from gracious England have I offer Of goodly thousands. Simply, for all this, When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, Or wear information technology on my sword, yet my poor land Shall have more vices than it had earlier, More than suffer, and more sundry ways than ever, By him that shall succeed.
MALCOLM
Don't exist offended. It's not that I totally mistrust yous. I concur that Scotland is sinking under Macbeth's tyranny. Scotland weeps, it bleeds, and each day a new injury is added to her wounds. I retrieve, too, that many men would fight for me if I returned to claim the throne. And England has promised to give me thousands of troops. Simply, for all this, when I accept my foot on Macbeth's head, or have his head on my sword, and so my poor land will be in even worse shape than before. It will suffer more, and in more than ways, under the rex who succeeds Macbeth.
MACDUFF
What should he exist?
MACDUFF
And who would that be?
MALCOLM
It is myself I mean, in whom I know All the particulars of vice then grafted That, when they shall be opened, black Macbeth Volition seem as pure as snow, and the poor land Esteem him as a lamb, being compared With my confineless harms.
MALCOLM
I hateful myself. I know I have so many evil qualities that—when they are exposed—volition make evil Macbeth seem pure as snow, and poor Scotland will retrieve of him as a sweet lamb in comparing to me and my infinite wickedness.
MACDUFF
Not in the legions Of horrid hell can come a devil more damned In evils to superlative Macbeth.
MACDUFF
At that place is non a devil as cursed equally Macbeth in all of hell.
MALCOLM
I grant him bloody, Luxurious, avaricious, fake, deceitful, Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin That has a proper noun. But at that place'south no lesser, none, In my voluptuousness. Your wives, your daughters, Your matrons, and your maids could not fill upwards The cistern of my lust, and my want All continent impediments would o'erbear That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth Than such an one to reign.
MALCOLM
I admit he'due south fierce, lecherous, greedy, deceitful, hot-tempered, malicious, and guilty of every sin that has a name. Only there is no end—admittedly none—to my sexual sinfulness. Your wives, your daughters, your old women, and your young women could non satisfy the depths of my lust. My desire would overwhelm annihilation and anybody who opposed me. Information technology'south better that Macbeth rule rather than someone like me.
MACDUFF
Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny. It hath been The untimely emptying of the happy throne And fall of many kings. But fearfulness not yet To take upon you what is yours. You may Convey your pleasures in a spacious enough And however seem cold; the fourth dimension you may then hoodwink. We have willing dames plenty. There cannot be That vulture in y'all to devour and then many As will to greatness dedicate themselves, Finding it so inclined.
MACDUFF
Extreme lust tin can overwhelm a human. It has caused the downfall of many kings in previously happy kingdoms. But don't be afraid to accept the crown that is yours. You can satisfy your desires in secret, while still actualization virtuous in public. You can hide the truth from everyone. Scotland has more plenty willing women. It's non possible that your lust could be so cracking that you'd go through all the women willing to sleep with the king one time they find out his involvement in them.
MALCOLM
With this in that location grows In my most ill-equanimous affection such A stanchless avarice that, were I rex, I should cut off the nobles for their lands, Desire his jewels and this other's house. And my more-having would exist every bit a sauce To make me hunger more, that I should forge Quarrels unjust against the skilful and loyal, Destroying them for wealth.
MALCOLM
In add-on to my lust, I'thou too insatiably greedy. If I were male monarch, I'd take the nobles' lands, steal the jewels of one, and take the business firm of another. And everything I took would make me hungrier to steal even more than, until I'd create unjustified arguments with my good and loyal subjects so that I could take their wealth.
MACDUFF
This avarice Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been The sword of our slain kings. Yet do not fear; Scotland hath foisons to make full up your will, Of your mere ain. All these are portable, With other graces weighed.
MACDUFF
This greed you describe is fifty-fifty worse than lust considering it will not pass every bit yous leave your youth, and it has led to the death of numerous kings. But don't be afraid. Scotland has enough wealth that y'all volition exist satisfied, even by your own income alone. These bad qualities are bearable when weighed against your practiced qualities.
MALCOLM
Simply I have none. The king-becoming graces, As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, Compensation, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, I have no relish of them but abound In the division of each several crime, Acting information technology many ways. Nay, had I power, I should Pour the sweetness milk of concord into hell, Uproar the universal peace, derange All unity on earth.
MALCOLM
But I have no practiced qualities. I have none of the qualities necessary for a king—such as justice, truthfulness, moderation, consistency, generosity, perseverance, mercy, humility, devotion, patience, courage, and bravery. Instead, I'm full of every type of sin, and each of those in a variety of ways. No, if I had power, I would take the sweet milk of peace and pour it into hell. I would destroy all peace, terminate all unity on earth.
MACDUFF
O Scotland, Scotland!
MACDUFF
Oh, Scotland, Scotland!
MALCOLM
If such a ane be fit to govern, speak. I am as I have spoken.
MALCOLM
If someone similar me is fit to rule, tell me. I am exactly as I have described myself.
MACDUFF
Fit to govern? No, non to live. —O nation miserable, With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptered, When shalt grand see thy wholesome days again, Since that the truest consequence of thy throne By his own interdiction stands accursed, And does blaspheme his breed? —Thy majestic father Was a nearly sainted king. The queen that bore thee, Oftener upon her knees than on her anxiety, Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself Have banished me from Scotland. —O my breast, Thy hope ends hither!
MACDUFF
Fit to rule? No, not even fit to live. Oh, miserable country, ruled by a murderous tyrant with no right to dominion—when will you maybe see peaceful days if your legal heir to the throne indicts himself equally a cursed man and a disgrace to the royal family unit? Your purple male parent Duncan was a virtuous king. The queen your mother was more oftentimes kneeling in prayer than standing up, and lived a pious life. Adieu. The evils of which you accuse yourself take driven me from Scotland forever. Oh, my heart, your promise ends here!
MALCOLM
Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul Wiped the blackness scruples, reconciled my thoughts To thy good truth and honor. Devilish Macbeth By many of these trains hath sought to win me Into his ability, and small wisdom plucks me From overcredulous haste. But God above Bargain between thee and me, for even now I put myself to thy management and Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure The taints and blames I laid upon myself, For strangers to my nature. I am notwithstanding Unknown to woman, never was forsworn, Scarcely take coveted what was mine own, At no time broke my faith, would not betray The devil to his swain, and please No less in truth than life. My first faux speaking Was this upon myself. What I am truly, Is thine and my poor land'due south to control. Whither indeed, before thy here-approach, One-time Siward, with ten yard warlike men, Already at a point, was setting along. Now we'll together, and the hazard of goodness Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent?
MALCOLM
Macduff, this noble burst tin only exist a product of integrity, and has removed from my soul the doubts I had almost you, proving your honor and truthfulness to me. The devilish Macbeth has tried many plots to lure me into his ability, so I must exist cautious and non too quick to trust anyone. But may God show my truthfulness now to y'all! I will permit myself be guided by you, and I take dorsum all of the terrible things I said almost myself. All the flaws I described myself equally having are in fact conflicting to my graphic symbol. I haven't slept with a woman yet, and I've never cleaved a vow. I barely even care about my own possessions, much less what anyone else owns. I've never broken a hope and wouldn't even betray the devil. I love truth as much as I love life. Those lies I told near myself are the kickoff false words I've always said. The true me is ready to serve you and our poor land. In fact, before you got here, former Siward—with ten thousand battle-set soldiers—was but setting out for Scotland. Now we'll fight Macbeth together, and our chance of our success is every bit proficient as the reasons motivating us to act! Why are you silent?
MACDUFF
Such welcome and unwelcome things at once 'Tis difficult to reconcile.
MACDUFF
It's hard to empathise such a sudden change in your story.
MALCOLM
Well, more betimes.—Comes the king forth, I pray you lot?
MALCOLM
Well, nosotros'll speak more about this soon.
[To the DOCTOR] Tin can you tell me, is King Edward coming?
DOCTOR
Ay, sir; at that place are a crew of wretched souls That stay his cure. Their malady convinces The great assay of fine art, but at his touch on— Such sanctity hath heaven given his paw— They presently amend.
DOCTOR
Yes, sir. A wretched grouping of the sick look for him to heal them. Their illness doesn't respond to the efforts of medicine, simply when Edward touches them—considering of the sacred power given to him by sky—they are healed.
MALCOLM
I thanks, physician.
MALCOLM
Give thanks yous, doctor.
MACDUFF
What's the disease he ways?
MACDUFF
What affliction does he mean?
MALCOLM
'Tis called the evil. A most miraculous piece of work in this good male monarch, Which frequently since my here-remain in England I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven, Himself best knows, but strangely visited people, All swoll'n and ulcerous, distressing to the eye, The mere despair of surgery, he cures, Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, Put on with holy prayers. And, 'tis spoken, To the succeeding royalty he leaves The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy, And sundry blessings hang about his throne, That speak him full of grace.
MALCOLM
It'south called the evil . Many times during my stay in England, I have seen the skilful male monarch Edward perform an incredible phenomenon. Only he can say how he prays to heaven for these gifts. He cures people afflicted with this foreign disease—all bloated and ulcerous, lamentable to look at, and beyond the help of surgery—by placing a gilt money around their necks and saying holy prayers over them. And information technology's said that he will pass on this blest healing power to his royal descendants. In improver to this strange power, he has the souvenir of prophecy, as well every bit diverse other abilities that mark him as a man full of God's grace.
MACDUFF
Run across, who comes hither?
MACDUFF
Look there, who's coming?
MALCOLM
My countryman, only even so I know him not.
MALCOLM
He's dressed like a Scotsman, merely I don't know him.
MACDUFF
My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.
MACDUFF
My e'er noble kinsman, welcome.
MALCOLM
I know him now.—Good God, betimes remove The means that makes us strangers!
MALCOLM
I recognize him now. Love God, may you quickly modify the circumstances that continue us apart!
MACDUFF
Stands Scotland where it did?
MACDUFF
Is Scotland as it has been?
ROSS
Alas, poor state! Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot Be called our mother, only our grave, where nada, But who knows nothing, is one time seen to smiling; Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend the air Are made, not marked; where violent sorrow seems A modern ecstasy. The dead homo's knell Is there deficient asked for who, and practiced men'southward lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, Dying or ere they sicken.
ROSS
Alas, poor state! Information technology's almost too scared to fifty-fifty recognize itself. Scotland is no longer our motherland. It is our grave, where the just people who grinning are those who know nil. Where sighs, groans, and shrieks split up the air, but no one pays attending. Where trigger-happy sorrow is a mutual emotion. When the funeral bells ring, people no longer ask who died. Good men's lives are shorter than the time it takes the flowers in their caps to wilt. They die before they fifty-fifty fall ill.
MACDUFF
Oh, relation Too nice and yet too true!
MACDUFF
Oh, your report is too precise and too true!
MALCOLM
What's the newest grief?
MALCOLM
What is the latest bad news?
ROSS
That of an hour'due south age doth hiss the speaker. Each minute teems a new ane.
ROSS
Every hour brings new bad news. Every infinitesimal gives birth to some new bad thing.
MACDUFF
How does my wife?
MACDUFF
And all my children?
MACDUFF
And all my children?
MACDUFF
The tyrant has not dilapidated at their peace?
MACDUFF
The tyrant Macbeth hasn't come afterward them?
ROSS
No, they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.
ROSS
No, they were at peace when I left them.
MACDUFF
Be not a niggard of your speech. How goes 't?
MACDUFF
Don't be coy with what you lot're saying. What's happened?
ROSS
When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which I take heavily borne, in that location ran a rumor Of many worthy fellows that were out; Which was to my belief witnessed the rather For that I saw the tyrant's power itinerant. Now is the time of assist. Your centre in Scotland Would create soldiers, make our women fight, To doff their dire distresses.
ROSS
Every bit I was coming here to tell yous the news that has weighed me down, I heard rumors that many good men are armed and moving to fight Macbeth. I knew the rumors were true when I saw Macbeth'southward army on the move. At present is the time when we need your help. Your presence in Scotland would inspire more than men—and women—to fight against Macbeth'southward tyranny.
MALCOLM
Be 't their condolement We are coming thither. Gracious England hath Lent us good Siward and 10 thousand men; An older and a better soldier none That Christendom gives out.
MALCOLM
Allow them be comforted—we're returning to Scotland. Gracious King Edward has lent us noble Lord Siward and ten chiliad soldiers. No soldier is more experienced or successful than Siward in all of the Christian countries.
ROSS
Would I could reply This condolement with the similar. Just I have words That would be howled out in the desert air, Where hearing should not latch them.
ROSS
I wish I could respond to this good news with expert news of my own. But I do accept news that should be howled out into the sky of a barren desert, where nobody could hear information technology.
MACDUFF
What business concern they? The general cause, or is information technology a fee-grief Due to some single breast?
MACDUFF
What is the news nigh? Does information technology concern everyone, or is it a grief belonging to just one person?
ROSS
No heed that's honest But in it shares some woe, though the primary role Pertains to y'all lonely.
ROSS
No honest man could finish himself from sharing in the sorrow, simply my news relates to you lone.
MACDUFF
If it be mine, Keep it non from me. Quickly let me take it.
MACDUFF
If it's for me, don't keep it from me. Quickly, tell me.
ROSS
Allow not your ears despise my tongue forever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest audio That ever yet they heard.
ROSS
I hope your ears won't hate my tongue forever for saying these things, the saddest news they've e'er heard.
MACDUFF
Hum! I guess at information technology.
MACDUFF
Oh no! I tin can guess what y'all're going to say.
ROSS
Your castle is surprised, your wife and babes Savagely slaughtered. To chronicle the mode, Were, on the quarry of these murdered deer To add the death of you lot.
ROSS
Your castle was ambushed. Your wife and children were savagely slaughtered. If I described their murders, information technology would impale you lot too, and add your torso to the pile.
MALCOLM
Merciful sky! What, human! Ne'er pull your lid upon your brows. Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak Whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids information technology interruption.
MALCOLM
Merciful heaven!
[To MACDUFF] Come, homo, don't hide your grief. Put your sorrow into words. A grief that hides in silence will whisper in your heart and break it.
ROSS
Married woman, children, servants, all that could exist institute.
ROSS
Your wife, your children, your servants—anybody they could find.
MACDUFF
And I must be from thence! My married woman killed besides?
MACDUFF
And I was away! My wife was killed likewise?
MALCOLM
Be comforted. Let's make us med'cines of our bang-up revenge, To cure this deadly grief.
MALCOLM
Take comfort. Permit's make a medicine out of revenge to ease your dreadful grief.
MACDUFF
He has no children. All my pretty ones? Did you lot say all? O hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one savage swoop?
MACDUFF
He doesn't take any children. All my little children? Did you say all? Oh, hawk from hell! All of them? What, all my children and their mother killed in one mortiferous swoop?
MALCOLM
Dispute information technology like a homo.
MALCOLM
Fight information technology like a man.
MACDUFF
I shall do so, But I must also feel it as a human. I cannot just remember such things were That were about precious to me. Did heaven look on, And would non take their function? Sinful Macduff, They were all struck for thee! Zip that I am, Not for their own demerits, simply for mine, Fell slaughter on their souls. Sky rest them at present.
MACDUFF
I'll do that. But I must also feel it like a man. I can't help remembering those things that were most precious to me. Did heaven just watch my family unit dice, and refuse to assist them? Sinful Macduff, they were killed considering of yous! Equally wicked every bit I am, they were slaughtered not considering of their own flaws, but because of mine. May they rest in sky now.
MALCOLM
Be this the whetstone of your sword. Permit grief Convert to anger. Edgeless non the centre, enrage information technology.
MALCOLM
Permit all this sharpen your sword. Let grief become acrimony. Don't hold back your middle. Permit it rage.
MACDUFF
Oh, I could play the woman with mine eyes And braggart with my tongue! Just, gentle heavens, Cutting curt all pause. Front to forepart Bring one thousand this fiend of Scotland and myself. Inside my sword'due south length set him; if he 'scape, Heaven forgive him too.
MACDUFF
Oh, I could weep like a woman while bragging virtually taking revenge! But, gentle heavens, cut short any delay. Bring me face to face with the devil of Scotland, so that he's inside reach of my sword. If he escapes, may heaven forgive him likewise!
MALCOLM
This tune goes manly. Come, go we to the king. Our ability is ready; Our lack is null merely our exit. 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.
MALCOLM
At present you audio like a homo. Come, we'll get encounter Male monarch Edward. Our army is gear up, and nosotros tin get out once we get Male monarch Edward's permission. Macbeth is ripe for the taking, with the powers in a higher place are armed and on our side. Have centre, equally much as y'all can. A new day volition dawn.
Source: https://www.litcharts.com/shakescleare/shakespeare-translations/macbeth/act-4-scene-3