Ross (cont.)
Must not be measured by his worth, for then
It hath no end.
Siward
Had he his hurts before?
Ross
Ay, on the front.
Siward
Why then, God’s soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so, his knell is knoll’d.
Malcolm
He’s worth more sorrow,
And that I’ll spend for him.