Imatges de pàgina
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Macb. Come what come may,

Time and the hour run through the roughest day.

Let us tow'rd the king.

ACT I. SC. 5.

[Aside.

LADY MACBETH AFTER READING HER HUSBAND'S LETTER.

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor-and shalt be

What thou art promis'd.

Yet do I fear thy nature;

It is too full o' th' milk of human kindness,
To catch the nearest way.
Art not without ambition;
The illness should attend it.

Thou would'st be great,
but without

What thou wouldst highly,

That wouldst thou holily: wouldst not play false,

And yet would'st wrongly win; thou'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries, Thus thou must do, if thou have it;

And that which rather thou dost fear to do,

Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither,

That I may pour my spirits in thine ear,

And chastise, with the valour of my tongue,
All that impedes thee from the golden round
Which fate, and metaphysical1 aid, doth seem2
To have thee crown'd withal.

Enter Macbeth.

Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter !
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present time, and I feel now
The future in the instant.

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[Embracing him.

Your face, my Thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters. To beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,

Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower,
But be the serpent under't. He that's coming,
Must be provided for; and you shall put
This night's great business into my despatch,
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Macb. We will speak further.8

1 Supernatural.

2 Johnson would read seek. Another instance of the feature alluded to in note 5, p. 93.

Hautboys and torches.

ACT I. sc. 6.

MACBETH'S CASTLE.

Enter King Malcolm, Donalbain, Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Rosse, Angus, and Attendants.

King. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses,

Ban. This guest of summer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,
By his lov'd mansionry, that heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze,
Buttress, nor coigne of 'vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle:
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed,
The air is delicate.

ACT I. sc. 7.

MACBETH'S MENTAL STRuggle.

Macb. If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly; if th' assassination

Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With its surcease, success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all-Here;
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,—
We'd jump the life to come.-But, in these cases,
We still have judgment here, that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague th' inventor: this even-handed justice
Commends th' ingredients of our poisoned chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust;
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject;
Strong both against the deed: then, as his host,
Who should against his murd'rer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead, like angels trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking off;
And pity, like a naked new-born babe
Striding the blast, or heav'n's cherubim hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,

Shall blow the horrid deed in ev'ry eye,

That tears shall drown the wind.-I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on th' other-

1 Johnson would read "with its success, surcease."
* Compare "The gods are just," &c. Lear, Act V. Sc. 3.

How now? what news?

Lady. He's almost supp'd; why have you left the chamber?
Macb. Hath he asked for me?

Lady. Know you not he has?

Macb. We will proceed no further in this business.

He hath honoured me of late; and I have bought

Golden opinions from all sort of people,

Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.

Lady. Was the hope drunk

Wherein you dressed yourself? hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time,
Such I account thy love. Art thou afraid
To be the same in thine own act and valour,
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem?
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,
Like the poor cat i' th' adage.9
Macb. Pr'ythee, peace,

I dare do all that may become a man ;
Who dares do more, is none.

Lady. What beast was't then

That made you break this enterprize to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place
Did then cohere, and yet you would make both;
They've made themselves, and that their fitness now
Does unmake you.

*

Macb. If we should fail-
Lady. We fail!

But screw your courage to the sticking-place,
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep,
Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey
Soundly invite him, his two chamberlains
Will I with wine and wassail so convince,
That memory, the warder of the brain,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
A limbecks only. When in swinish sleep
Their drenchéd natures lie as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
Th' unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His spungy officers, who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell ?5

1 "Or."-Johnson.

"The cat loves fish, but does not wet her foot." An alembic to emit fumes and vapours only. 4 Bibulous, like a sponge. Murder, manquellers, in old language, murderers; same with kill.

Macb. I am settled, and bend up

Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

Away, and mock the time with fairest show:

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

ACT II. SC. 2.

THE MURDER.

Enter Lady Macbeth.

Lady. That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold; What hath quench'd them, hath giv'n me fire. Hark! peace! It was the owl that shrieked, the fatal bell-man,

Which gives the stern'st good night- -he is about it

The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms

1

Do mock their charge with snores. I've drugged their possets, That death and nature do contend about them,

Whether they live or die.

Enter Macbeth.

Macb. Who's there?--what, ho!

Lady. Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd,
And 'tis not done. Th' attempt and not the deed,
Confounds us-Hark!-I laid their daggers ready,
He could not miss them.-Had he2 not resembled
My father as he slept, I had done't.-My husband!

Macb. I've done the deed-didst thou not hear a noise?
Lady. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry.
Did not you speak?

Macb. When?

Lady. Now.

Macb. As I descended?

Lady. Ay.

Macb. Hark-who lies i' th' second chamber?

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[Looks on his hands.

Lady. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight.

Macb. There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cry'd murder!

They waked each other; and I stood and heard them;

But they did say their prayers, and address them

Again to sleep.

Lady. There are two lodged together.

Macb. One cry'd God bless us and Amen! the other;

As they had seen me with these hangman's hands,

Listening their fear :-I could not say, Amen,

When they did say, God bless us.

Lady. Consider it not so deeply.

1 Macbeth is employed in the deed.

? The king.

3 See note 7, p. 9.

Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen? I had most need of blessing, and Amen

Stuck in my throat.

Lady. These deeds must not be thought

After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

Macb. Methought I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth doth murder sleep ;-the innocent sleep;
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve1 of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast-

Lady. What do you mean?

Macb. Still it cry'd sleep no more, to all the house;
Glamis hath murdered sleep. And therefore Cawdor
Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more!

Lady. Who was it that thus cry'd? Why, worthy Thane,
You do unbend your noble strength, to think
So brain-sickly of things. Go, get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand.
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there. Go, carry them, and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood.

Macb. I'll go no more.

I am afraid to think what I have done;
Look on't again I dare not.

Lady. Infirm of purpose!

Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead

Are but as pictures; 'tis the eye of childhood
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,

I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,

For it must seem their guilt.2

Knocks within.

Macb. Whence is that knocking!

How is it with me, when every noise appals me?

[Exit.

[Starting.

What hands are here? hah! they pluck out mine eyes.

Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood

Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will rather
The multitudinous sea incarnadine,

Making the green one red

ACT III. Sc. 4.

THE BANQUET.

Enter Macbeth as King, Lady M. Rosse, Lenox, Lords, and
Attendants.

Mach. You know your own degrees; sit down:

At first and last, the hearty welcome.

"A skein of silk is called a sleeve of silk."-Johnson.

A pun often jars on the ear in Shakespeare's noblest passages:-"Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough," &c.-Jul. Cæs. Act I. Sc. 2. Punning was one of the literary vices of his age.

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