Alarum wubim. Enter King Malcome, Donal-
baine Lenox,with attendants, meeting
a bleeding Captaine.

King, What bloody man is that? he can report,
As feemeth by his plight,of the Reuole
The neweft ftate.

Mal. This is the Serieant,

Who like a good and hardie Souldier fought
'Gainft my Čaptiuitie: Haile braue friend a
Say to the King,the knowledge of the Broyle,
As thou didft leaue it.

Cap. Doubtfull it flood,

Astwo fpent Swimmers, that doe cling together,
And choake their Art: The mercileffe Macdonald
(Worthie to be a Rebell, for to that.
The multiplying Villanies of Nature

Doe (warme vpon him) from the Wefterne Isles
Of Kernes and Gallowgroffes is fupply'd,
And Fortune on his damned Quarry fmiling,
Shew'd like a Rebells Whore: but all's too weake:
For brave Macbeth (well hee deferues that Name)
Difdayning Fortune, with his brandifht Steele,
Which fmoak'd with bloody execution
(Like Valours Minion) caru'd out his paffage,
Till hee fac'd the Slaue:

Which neu'r fhooke hands,nor bad farwell to him,
Till he vnfeam'd him from the Naue toth' Chops,
And fix'd his Head vpon our Battlements.

King. Ovaliant Coufin,worthy Gentleman.
Cap. As whence the Sunne 'gins his reflection,
Shipwracking Stories,and direfull Thunders:
So from that Spring, whence comfort feem'd to come,
Difcomfort fwells: Marke King of Scotland,marke,
No fooner Iuftice had, with Valour arm'd,
Compell'd thefe skipping Kernes to truft their heeles,
But the Norweyan Lord,furneying vantage,
With furbufht Armes, and new fupplyes of men,
Began a fresh affault.

King. Difmay'd not this our Captaines, Macbeth and Banquob?

Cap. Yes, as Sparrowes,Eagles;

Or the Hare, the Lyon:

If I fay footh, I muft report they were

As Cannons ouer-charg'd with double Cracks,

So they doubly redoubled ftroakes vpon the Foe:

Except they meant to bathe in reeking Wounds,
Or memorize another Golgotha,

I cannot tell: but I am faint,

My Gafhes cry for helpe.

King. So well thy words become thee,as thy wounds, They mack of Honor both: Goe get him Surgeons,

Enter Roffe and Angus.

Who comes here?

Mal. The worthy Thane of Roffc.

Lenox. What a hafte lookes through his eyes?

So fhould he looke, that feemes to fpeake things ftrange.
Roffe. God faue the King.

King. Whence cam'ft thou,worthy Thane?
Roffe. From Fiffe, great King,

Where the Norweyan Banners flowt the Skie,
And fanne our people cold.

Norway himselfe, with terrible numbers,
Affifted by that most difloyall Traytor,
The Thane of Cawdor,began a difmall Conflict,
Till that Bellona's Bridegroome,lapt in proofe,
Confronted him with felfe-comparisons,
Poine against Point, rebellious Arme 'gainft Arme,
Curbing his lauifh fpirit: and to conclude,
The Victorie fell on vs.

King. Great happineffe.

Roffe. That now, Sweno,the Norwayes King, Craues compofition:

Nor would we deigne him buriall of his men,
Till he disburfed,at Saint Calmes ynch,
Ten thousand Dollars, to our generallyfe.

King No