SCENE IX.
[Retreat. Flourish. Enter, with drum and colours, Malcolm, old
Siward, Ross, Lennox, Angus, Caithness, Menteith, and Soldiers.
MALCOLM.
I would the friends we miss were safe arriv'd.
SIWARD.
Some must go off; and yet, by these I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
MALCOLM.
Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
ROSS.
Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt:
He only liv'd but till he was a man;
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.
SIWARD.
Then he is dead?
FLEANCE.
Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then
It hath no end.
SIWARD.
Had he his hurts before?
ROSS.
Ay, on the front.
