Reading The Tragedy of Macbeth — William Shakespeare

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Mal.

Be not offended:

I speake not as in absolute feare of you:

I thinke our Country sinkes beneath the yoake,

It weepes, it bleeds, and each new day a gash

Is added to her wounds. I thinke withall,

There would be hands vplifted in my right:

And heere from gracious England haue I offer

Of goodly thousands. But for all this,

When I shall treade vpon the Tyrants head,

Or weare it on my Sword; yet my poore Country

Shall haue more vices then it had before,

More suffer, and more sundry wayes then euer,

By him that shall succeede.

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