In the great hand of God I stand; and thence / Against the undivulg’d pretence I fight / Of treasonous malice.

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.

I am one, my liege, / Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world / Hath so incens’d that I am reckless what / I do to spite the world.

Safe in a ditch he bides, / With twenty trenched gashes on his head; / The least a death to nature.

for from broad words, and ’cause he fail’d / His presence at the tyrant’s feast, I hear, / Macduff lives in disgrace.

Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous / It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain / To kill their gracious father? damned fact! / How it did grieve Macbeth!

Some holy angel / Fly to the court of England, and unfold / His message ere he come, that a swift blessing / May soon return to this our suffering country / Under a hand accurs’d!

The castle of Macduff I will surprise; / Seize upon Fife; give to th' edge o' th' sword / His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls / That trace him in his line.

He has kill’d me, mother: / Run away, I pray you!

Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars and swearers enow to beat the honest men and hang up them.