A Scottish Nobleman
‘We are sent, To give thee from our royal master thanks’
‘Who was the thane lives yet;, But under heavy judgment bears that life, Which he deserves to lose.
‘Near Birnam wood, Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.’
‘Now does he [Macbeth] feel, His secret murders sticking on his hands;’
‘Those he[Macbeth] commands move only in command, Nothing in love’
‘His[Macbeth] title, Hang loose about him, like a giant’s robe, Upon a dwarfish thief.’