Retreat; flourish. Re-enter, with drum and colours, MALCOLM, Old SIWARD, ROSSE, LENOX, ANGUS, CATHNESS, MENTETH, and Soldiers. Mal. I would the friends we miss were safe arrived. Siw. Some must go off; and yet, by these I see, So great a day as this is cheaply bought. Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son. Rosse. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt : He only lived but till he was a man; Siw. Then he is dead? Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow Must not be measured by his worth, for then It hath no end. Siw. Had he his hurts before? Rosse. Ay, on the front. Siw. Why, then, God's soldier be he ! Had I as many sons as I have hairs, I would not wish them to a fairer death: And so his knell is knoll'd. Mal. Siw. He's worth more sorrow, And that I'll spend for him. He's worth no more ; They say, he parted well, and paid his score : And, so, God be with him!- Here comes newer comfort. Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head. Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art. Behold, where stands The usurper's cursed head: the time is free : Hail, king of Scotland! All. Hail, king of Scotland! [Flourish. Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time, Before we reckon with your several loves, kinsmen, Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen, [Flourish. Exeunt. VENUS AND ADONIS. THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. SONNETS. A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. SONG. -"TAKE, OH, TAKE THOSE LIPS AWAY." THE PHENIX AND THE TURTLE. VENUS AND ADONIS. Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo Ovid. TO THE RIGHT HON. HENRY WRIOTHESLY, Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Titchfield. RIGHT HONOURABLE, I KNOW not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your Lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden: only, if your Honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a god-father, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your Honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish, and the world's hopeful expectation. Your Honour's in all duty, WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. w VEN as the sun with purple-colour'd face Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn, Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase; Hunting he loved, but love he laugh'd to scorn; Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him, And like a bold-faced suitor 'gins to woo him. |