William Shakespeare's Macbeth, his famous "Scottish play" is the story of a good man turned evil by a dark ambition he cannot control.
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Macbeth

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Act II. Scene IV.

Scene IV.—The Same. Without the Castle.

Enter Ross and an Old Man.

Old Man. Threescore and ten I can remember
well;
Within the volume of which time I have seen
Hours dreadful and things strange, but this sore
night
Hath trifled former knowings,
Ross. Ah! good father,
Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's
act,
Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock 'tis day,
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp.
Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,
That darkness does the face of earth entomb,
When living light should kiss it?
Old Man. 'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
Ross. And Duncan's horses,—a thing most
strange and certain,—
Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,
Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would
Make war with mankind.
Old Man. 'Tis said they eat each other.
Ross. They did so; to the amazement of mine
eyes,
That look'd upon't. Here comes the good
Macduff.

Enter MACDUFF.
How goes the world, sir, now?
Macd. Why, see you not?
Ross. Is't known who did this more than
bloody deed?
Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slain.
Ross. Alas, the day!
What good could they pretend?
Macd. They were suborn'd.
Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons,
Are stol'n away and fled, which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed.
Ross. 'Gainst nature still!
Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up
Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
Macd. He is already nam'd, and gone to
Scone
To be invested,
Ross. Where is Duncan's body?
Macd. Carried to Colmekill;
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors
And guardian of their bones.
Ross. Will you to Scone?
Macd. No, cousin, I'll to Fife.
Ross. Well, I will thither.
Macd. Well, may you see things well done
there: adieu!
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
Ross. Farewell, father.
Old Man. God's benison go with you; and
with those
That would make good of bad, and friends of
foes! [Exeunt.
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