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Scene in] Macbeth 93 

Malcolm. I grant him bloody, 

Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, 
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin 
That has a name ; but there's no bottom, none, 60 

In my voluptuousness : your wives, your daughters, 
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up 
The cistern of my lust, and my desire 
All continent impediments would o'erbear, 
That did oppose my will ; better Macbeth 
Than such an one to reign. 

Macduff. 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 70 

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 inclin'd. 

Malcolm. With this there grows 

In my most ill-compos'd affection such 
A stanchless avarice that, were I king, 
I should cut off the nobles for their lands, 
Desire his jewels and this other's house : 80 

And my more-having would be as a sauce 
To make me hunger more, that I should forge