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pangs of his torn bosom; for, finding that Fleance has not met the same untimely fate, and that Banquo might still prove
the root and father
Of many Kings,[1]—
we see him instantly replunged into all the agony of his former terrors:—
Mur. Most royal Sir, Fleance is 'scap'd.
Macb. Then comes my fit again: I'd else been perfect;
Whole as the marble, founded as the rock;
As broad and general as the casing air:
But now, I'm cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in,
To saucy doubts and fears.[2]
