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Which might appall the devil.
Lady. O proper stuff!

This is the very painting of your fear;

This is the air-drawn-dagger, which, you faid,
Led you to Duncan. Oh, these flaws and ftarts
(Impoftors to true fear,) would well become
A woman's story át a winter's fire,

Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!—
Why do you make fuch faces? when all's done,
You look but on a stool.

Mach. Pr'ythee, fee there!

[afide

Behold! look! lo! how fay you? [Pointing to the Ghoft
Why, what care I! if thou canft nod, fpeak too.-
If charnel-houses and our graves must send

Thofe, that we bury, back; our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.

[The Ghoft vanishes Lady. What? quite unmann'd in folly ? Mach. If I ftand here, I faw him.

Lady. Fy, for fhame!

Macb. Blood hath been fhed ere now, i' th' olden time, Ere human ftatute purg'd the gen'ral weal; (25) Ay, and fince too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for th' ear: the times have been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end; but now they rife again With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our ftools; this is more ftrange Than fuch a murder is.

Lady. My worthy Lord,

Your noble friends do lack you.

Macb. I do forget..

Do not mufe at me. my moft worthy friends,
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To thofe that know me. Come, love and health to all!

(25) Ere buman flatute purg'd the gentle weal.] Thus all the editions but Mr. Warburton very juftly advis'd, as I have reform'd the text, gen'ral weal: "And it is a very fine Periphrafis (fays he) to

fignify, ere civil focieties were inftituted. For the early murders, "recorded in fcripture, are here alluded to: and Macbeth's apolo⚫ "gizing for murder from the antiquity of the example is very natu

ral."

Thea

Then I'll fit down: give me fome wine, fill full-
I drink to th' general joy of the whole table,
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we mifs;
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirft,
And all to all.

Lords. Our duties, and the pledge.

[The Ghoft rifes again. Macb. Avaunt, and quit my fight! let the earth hide

thee! (26)

Thy bones are marrowlefs, thy blood is cold;

Thou haft no fpeculation in those eyes,

Which thou dost glare with.

Lady. Think of this, good Peers,
But as a thing of cuftom; 'tis no other;
Only it fpoils the pleasure of the time.
Macb. What man dare, I dare:

Approach thou like the rugged Ruffian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or Hyrcanian tyger,
Take any fhape but that, and my firm nerves..
Shall never tremble: Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the defert with thy fword;
If trembling I inhibit, then proteft me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible fhadow!
Unreal mock'ry, hence! why, fo,-being gone,
[The Ghoft vanishes.
I am a man again: pray you, fit ftill. [The Lords rife.
Lady. You have difplac'd the mirth, broke the good
With moft admir'd diforder.
[meeting

Mach. Can fuch things be,

And overcome us like a fummer's cloud,

Without our special wonder? You make me ftrange

Ev'n to the difpofition that I owe,

When now I think, you can behold fuch fights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,

(26) Avaunt, and quit my fight! let the earth hide thee!] i. e. Ag thou art a dead thing, the earth, thy grave, ought to overwhelm and cover thee from human fight. Thus Io (in the Prometheus chain'd, by Efchylus) in her frenzy fancying that she saw the apparition of Argus, complains that the earth does not hide him tho' dead.

ἣν ἀδὲ κατθανόντα γαῖα κεύθεια

When

When mine is blanch'd with fear.

Roffe. What fights, my Lord?

Lady. I pray you, fpeak not; he grows worfe and worfe Queftion enrages him at once, good-night.

:

Stand not upon the order of your going,

But go at once.

Lex. Good-night, and better health Attend his Majesty!

Lady. Good-night, to all.

[Exeunt Lords.

Macb. It will have blood, they fay; blood will have blood: Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak ; Augurs, that understood relations, have (27)

By mag-pies, and by choughs, and rooks brought forth The fecret'ft man of blood.-What is the night?

Lady. Almoft at odds with morning, which is which. Macb. How fay'ft thou, that Macduff denies his perfon, At our great bidding?

Lady. Did you fend to him, Sir?

Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will fend':

(27) Augurs, that underflood relations, bave

By mag-pies, and by choughs, and rooks, brought forth The fecret ft man of blood.] Confcience, as we may learn from Plutarch, has fometimes fupply'd the office of augury in this point. One Beffus he tells us, who had a long time before murder'd his father, going to fup at a friend's houfe, fuddenly with his fpear pull'd down a fwallow's neft, and kill'd all the young ones. The company enquiring into the reafon of his cruelty, Don't you hear, fays he, how they falfely accufe me of having kill'd my father? Vid. Plutarchum de Sera Numinis Vindicia. As remarkable a story is recorded by him, in another tract, upon which the Greeks founded their proverb, Af yigavo. bycus the poet being furpriz'd by robbers in a defart, as they were about to kill him, call'd out to a flock of cranes, that flew over his head, to bear witnefs of his murder. Thefe murderes fometime afterwards fitting in the theatre, and feeing a flight of cranes, faid in triumph to one another; behold, Ibycus's avengers! The words being overheard, the robbers were apprehended, rack'd upon fufpicion, and brought to a confeffion of the murder. And thus, as Aufonius fays,

Ibycus ut periit, vindex fuit altivolans grus.

Monfieur Le Feure, in his lives of the Greek poets, has concluded with remarking on lbycus, that as he liv'd a Poet, fo he dy'd a Prophet

There's

There's not a Thane of them, but in his house (28)
I keep a fervant fee'd. I will to-morrow
(Betimes I will) unto the weird fifters:

More fhall they speak; for now I'm bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst, for mine own good.
All caufes fhall give way; I am in blood
Stept in fo far, that, fhould I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er :

Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd.
Lady. You lack the feafon of all nature's fleep.
Macb. Come, we'll to fleep; my ftrange and felf abufe
Is the initiate fear, that wants hard ufe:
We're yet but young in deed. (29)

[Exeunt. SCENE

(28) There is not one of them.] Thus the modern editors. But, one of whom? Macbeth has just faid, that he heard, Macduff meant to difobey his fummons: and he would immediately fubjoin, that there is not a man of Macduff's quality in the kingcom, but he has a fpy under his roof. This is understood, not exprefs'd, as the text as yet has flood. The old folio's give us the paffage thus ;

There's not a one of them.

Here we again meet with a deprav'd reading; but it is fuch a one, as, I am perfuaded, has led me to the poet's true word and meaning.

There's not a Thane of them,

i. e. a nobleman: and fo the Peers of Scotland were all call'd, 'till Earls were created by Malcolm the fon of Duncan. The etymology of the word is to be found in Spelman's Saxon gloffary, Wormius's Danife hiftory, Cafaubon de Linguâ Saxonica, &c. And my emendation, I conceive, is sufficiently confirm'd by what Holing fhead, from whom our author has extracted so many particulars of history, expressly says in proof of this circumftance. For Macbeth had in every nobleman's boufe one fly fellow or other, in fee with him; to reveal all that was faid or done, within the fame: by which flight he oppress'd the most part of the nobles of his realm.

(29) We're yet but young indeed.] If we tranfpofe these words, we fhall find, they amount to no more than this, we are yet indeed but young. But this is far from comprizing either the poet's, or Macbeth's, meaning. I read,-in deed, i. e. but little inur'd yet to acts of blood and cruelty: for time and practice harden villains in their trade, who are timorous 'till so harden'd,

So Macbeth fays before;

Things bad begun firengthen themselves in ill. afterwards,

Direness

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SCENE changes to the Heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate.

Wit. Hec. Have I not reafon, beldams, as you aref

WHY, how now, Hecat', you look angerly.

Saucy, and over-bold! how did you dare

To trade and traffick with Macbeth,

In riddles and affairs of death?
And I the miftrefs of your charms,
The clofe contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or fhew the glory of our art?

And which is worse, all you have done
Hath been but for a weyward fon;

Spightful and wrathful, who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for

you.

But make amends now; get you gone,

And at the pit of Acheron

Meet me i' th' morning: thither he
Will come, to know his destiny;
Your veffels and your spells provide,
Your charms, and every thing befide.
I am for th' air: this night I'll fpend
Unto a difmal, fatal end.

Great business must be wrought ere noon :
Upon the corner of the moon

There hangs a vap'rous drop, profound;
I'll catch it ere it come to ground;
And that, diftill'd by magick flights,
Shall raife fuch artificial fprights,
As, by the strength of their illufion,
Shall draw him on to his confufion.
He fhall fpurn fate, fcorn death, and bear
His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear:

Direnefs, familiar to my flaught'rous thoughts,
Cannot once fart me.

So in 3d. Henry VI.

Made impudent with ufe of evil deeds.

And

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