Bleed, bleed, poor country! Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou thy wrongs; The title is affeer’d! Fare thee well, lord: I would not be the villain that thou think’st For the whole space that’s in the tyrant’s grasp, And the rich East to boot.
Bleed, bleed, poor country! Great tyranny, establish yourself firmly, For goodness won’t dare challenge you: wear your Wrongdoing; The title is secure! Farewell, my lord: I wouldn’t be the villain you think I am For all the land the tyrant controls, And the rich East too.
Macduff · Act 4, Scene 3
Macduff, learning that his wife and children have been murdered, transforms his grief into a vow of vengeance and refuses to be consoled with hopes of justice. He speaks of Scotland itself as a wound that cannot heal while Macbeth rules, making the tyrant's death a matter not of personal revenge but of the country's survival. His words bind his private loss to the nation's redemption.