ROSS: Your castle is surprised; your wife and babes
Savagely slaughter’d: to relate the manner,
Were, on the quarry of these murder’d deer,
To add the death of you.
MALCOLM: Merciful heaven!
What, man! ne’er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.
MACDUFF: My children too?
ROSS: Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.
MACDUFF: And I must be from thence!
My wife kill’d too?
ROSS: Gordon Bennett, yes, your wife, EVERYBODY’S DEAD!