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But
I
must
also
feel
it
as
a
man
:
I
can
not
but
remember
such
things
were
,
That
were
most
precious
to
me
.
Did
heaven
look
on
,
And
would
not
take
their
part
?
Sinful
Macduff
,
They
were
all
struck
for
thee
!
naught
that
I
am
,
Not
for
their
own
demerits
,
but
for
mine
,
Fell
slaughter
on
their
souls
.
Heaven
rest
them
now
!
Malcolm
:
Be
this
the
whetstone
of
your
sword
:
let
grief
Convert
to
anger
;
blunt
not
the
heart
,
enrage
it
.
Macduff
:
O
,
I
could
play
the
woman
with
mine
eyes
