Enter Malcolm and Donalbain. Malcolm Donalbain DONALBAIN. What is amiss? MACBETH. You are, and do not know’t: The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood Is stopp’d; the very source of it is stopp’d. MACDUFF. Your royal father’s murder’d. MALCOLM. O, by whom? LENNOX. Those of his chamber, as it seem’d, had done’t: Their hands and faces were all badg’d with blood; So were their daggers, which, unwip’d, we found Upon their pillows. They star’d, and were distracted; No man’s life was to be trusted with them. MACBETH. O, yet I do repent me of my fury, That I did kill them. MACDUFF. Wherefore did you so? MACBETH. Who can be wise, amaz’d, temperate, and furious, Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: Th’ expedition of my violent love Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, His silver skin lac’d with his golden blood; And his gash’d stabs look’d like a breach in nature For ruin’s wasteful entrance: there, the murderers, Steep’d in the colours of their trade, their daggers Unmannerly breech’d with gore. Who could refrain, That had a heart to love, and in that heart Courage to make’s love known? LADY MACBETH. Help me hence, ho! MACDUFF. Look to the lady. MALCOLM. Why do we hold our tongues, That most may claim this argument for ours? DONALBAIN. What should be spoken here, where our fate, Hid in an auger hole, may rush, and seize us? Let’s away. Our tears are not yet brew’d. MALCOLM. Nor our strong sorrow Upon the foot of motion. BANQUO. Look to the lady:— [Lady Macbeth is carried out.]