Speeches (Lines) for Macduff
in "Macbeth"
Total: 59

1

II,3,782

Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed,
That you do lie so late?

2

II,3,787

What three things does drink especially provoke?

3

II,3,798

I believe drink gave thee the lie last night.

4

II,3,804

Is thy master stirring?
[Enter MACBETH]
Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes.

5

II,3,809

Is the king stirring, worthy thane?

6

II,3,811

He did command me to call timely on him:
I have almost slipp'd the hour.

7

II,3,814

I know this is a joyful trouble to you;
But yet 'tis one.

8

II,3,818

I'll make so bold to call,
For 'tis my limited service.

9

II,3,835

O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart
Cannot conceive nor name thee!

10

II,3,838

Confusion now hath made his masterpiece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o' the building!

11

II,3,844

Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight
With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak yourselves.
[Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX]
Awake, awake!
Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason!
Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself! up, up, and see
The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites,
To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.

12

II,3,861

O gentle lady,
'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
The repetition, in a woman's ear,
Would murder as it fell.
[Enter BANQUO]
O Banquo, Banquo,
Our royal master 's murder'd!

13

II,3,885

Your royal father 's murder'd.

14

II,3,895

Wherefore did you so?

15

II,3,908

Look to the lady.

16

II,3,927

And so do I.

17

II,4,973

Why, see you not?

18

II,4,975

Those that Macbeth hath slain.

19

II,4,978

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.

20

II,4,986

He is already named, and gone to Scone
To be invested.

21

II,4,989

Carried to Colmekill,
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors,
And guardian of their bones.

22

II,4,993

No, cousin, I'll to Fife.

23

II,4,995

Well, may you see things well done there: adieu!
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!

24

IV,3,1844

Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men
Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn
New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out
Like syllable of dolour.

25

IV,3,1862

I am not treacherous.

26

IV,3,1871

I have lost my hopes.

27

IV,3,1879

Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou
thy wrongs;
The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord:
I would not be the villain that thou think'st
For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,
And the rich East to boot.

28

IV,3,1900

What should he be?

29

IV,3,1907

Not in the legions
Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
In evils to top Macbeth.

30

IV,3,1920

Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
The untimely emptying of the happy throne
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours: you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
We have willing dames enough: there cannot be
That vulture in you, to devour so many
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclined.

31

IV,3,1940

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 fill up your will.
Of your mere own: all these are portable,
With other graces weigh'd.

32

IV,3,1957

O Scotland, Scotland!

33

IV,3,1960

Fit to govern!
No, not to live. O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accursed,
And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore thee,
Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!
These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast,
Thy hope ends here!

34

IV,3,1997

Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
'Tis hard to reconcile.

35

IV,3,2008

What's the disease he means?

36

IV,3,2024

See, who comes here?

37

IV,3,2026

My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.

38

IV,3,2030

Stands Scotland where it did?

39

IV,3,2041

O, relation
Too nice, and yet too true!

40

IV,3,2046

How does my wife?

41

IV,3,2048

And all my children?

42

IV,3,2050

The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

43

IV,3,2052

But not a niggard of your speech: how goes't?

44

IV,3,2070

What concern they?
The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
Due to some single breast?

45

IV,3,2076

If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

46

IV,3,2081

Hum! I guess at it.

47

IV,3,2090

My children too?

48

IV,3,2093

And I must be from thence!
My wife kill'd too?

49

IV,3,2099

He has no children. All my pretty ones?
Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?

50

IV,3,2104

I shall do so;
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,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!

51

IV,3,2114

O, I could play the woman with mine eyes
And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle heavens,
Cut short all intermission; front to front
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

52

V,4,2342

Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.

53

V,6,2426

Make all our trumpets speak; give them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.

54

V,7,2451

That way the noise is. Tyrant, show thy face!
If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still.
I cannot strike at wretched kerns, whose arms
Are hired to bear their staves: either thou, Macbeth,
Or else my sword with an unbatter'd edge
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not.

55

V,8,2477

Turn, hell-hound, turn!

56

V,8,2481

I have no words:
My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!

57

V,8,2491

Despair thy charm;
And let the angel whom thou still hast served
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.

58

V,8,2501

Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o' the time:
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted on a pole, and underwrit,
'Here may you see the tyrant.'

59

V,8,2542

Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, where stands
The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine:
Hail, King of Scotland!