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 lived 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?
Ross
Ay, and brought off the field: your cause of sorrow