MALCOLM      What I believe, I’ll wail;

What know, believe; and what I can redress,

As I shall find the time to friend, I will.

What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.

This tyrant whose sole name blisters our tongues

Was once thought honest. You have loved him well;

He hath not touched you yet. I am young, but something

You may discern of him through me; and wisdom

To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb

T’appease an angry god.                   (4.3.8-17)

Malcolm’s a tricky part: he hasn’t appeared in the play since 2.3 and in his early scenes he has only a handful of lines, his character barely established. Macduff doesn’t know him well at all; this isn’t the reunion of two old friends, but rather two men, one established, political heavyweight, the other perhaps very young, sniffing around each other, testing out loyalties and allegiances, weaknesses and strengths. Malcolm’s also an unknown quantity for the audience, and that’s an interesting proposition at this point in the play: if he and Macduff are perhaps going to be the opposition to Macbeth, what will that look like? What sort of man—what sort of future king—is this?

So Malcolm’s formal, quite opaque, and assertive; he doesn’t know whether Macduff’s straightforwardly his friend and ally yet or not. I’ll lament what I believe to be the case about the terrible state of things in Scotland; I’ll believe what I know to be true and lament that too. Moreover, what I can redress, as I shall find the time to friend, I will. When the time’s right, when it’s possible and propitious, I’ll put things right, restore, renew, heal. What you say may well be true, that it’s time to fight, to take Macbeth on; it may be so perchance, but I’m not just going to believe any old thing you say, because I don’t know who or what to believe anymore. Guarded, non-committal at first, and then more upfront about his suspicions, his feeling or his pragmatic assumption that he cannot yet trust Macduff. This tyrant whose sole name blisters our tongues—Macbeth, whose very name is hateful, so hateful that I’m not going to say it—he was once thought honest. (And we remember that Malcolm was there when his father Duncan heaped honours on Macbeth, loved and praised and trusted him.) More to the point: you have loved him well. Macduff, you used to be a Macbeth loyalist, close to him, one of the inner circle. He hath not touched you yet: horribly ironic, to say that so far Macduff has escaped any harm from Macbeth, that he seems therefore to be in favour, to have his protection. Suspicious, that, when so many others—Banquo, for instance—have come to a messy end, because they’ve somehow fallen out with Macbeth. Malcolm himself is in exile because of the rumours spread about him and his brother, that they killed their father Duncan. I am young, but something you may discern of him through me. A knotty line; one possibility is that Malcolm’s saying, even though I’m young, powerless, clearly no threat, you can see in how I’ve been treated just how ruthless and paranoid he is. Look at me, rightful heir to the Scottish crown, alone and in exile and miserable. You might already have decided that the wisest course of action, wisdom, if you have fallen out with Macbeth, would be to give me up to him as a kind of sacrifice, a weak, poor, innocent lamb, to appease an angry god. Betray me, save yourself. Not impossible that Malcolm really thinks that Macduff means to assassinate him, or (more likely) that he wants to test out how Macduff responds to that insinuation. Have you come here to kill me, to get back in favour with Macbeth? he could be asking.