Macduff : [growls] Turn, hell-hound, turn!
Macbeth : [perturbed] Of all men else I have avoided thee. But get thee back. My soul is too much charged with blood of thine already.
Macduff : I have no words. My voice is in my sword.
Macbeth : [unfazed] I bear a charmed life, which must not yield to one of woman born.
Macduff : [gloating] Despair thy charm; and let the angel whom thou still hast served tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb. Untimely ripp'd.
[realization hits Macbeth]
Macduff : Shake off your downy sleep, man. Death's counterfeit. You come and look on death itself. Huh? Murder! Treason!
Macduff : Confusion now hath made his masterpiece. Most sacrilegious murder hath broke open the Lord's anointed temple.
Macduff : Sinful Macduff! They were all struck for thee.
Macduff : My ever gentle cousin, stands Scotland where it did?
Angus : Alas, poor country, it's almost afraid to know itself. It cannot be called our mother but our grave.
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