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A Restoration Version of Act III 143
That deed's unlawful, though it cost no Blood,
In which you'l be at best unjustly Good.
You, by your Pity, which for us you plead,
Weave but Ambition of a finer thread.
Macd. Ambition does the height of power affect,
My aim is not to Govern, but Protect:
And he is not ambitious that declares,
He nothing seeks of Scepters but their cares.
La. Macd. Can you so patiently your self molest,
And lose your own to give your Countrey rest !
In Plagues what sound Physician wou'd endure
To be infected for another's Cure.
Macd. If by my troubles I cou'd yours release,
My Love wou'd turn those torments to my ease:
I shou'd at once be sick, and healthy too,
Though Sickly in my self, yet Well in you.
La. Macd. But then reflect upon the Danger, Sir,
Which you by your aspiring wou'd incur
From Fortunes Pinacle, you will too late
Look down, when you are giddy with your height:
Whilst you with Fortune play to win a Crown,
The Peoples Stakes are greater than your own.
Macd. In hopes to have the common ills redrest,
Who wou'd not venture single interest.
Enter Servant.
Ser. My Lord, a Gentleman, just now arriv'd
From Court, has brought a Message from the King:
Macd. One sent from him, can no good Tidings bring?
La. Macd. What wou'd the Tyrant have?
Macd. Go, I will hear
The News, though it a dismal Accent bear ;
Those who expect and do not fear their Doom,
May hear a message though from hell it come.
{Exeunt.
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