Imatges de pÓgina
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Hold faft the mortal fword; and, like good men,
Beftride our downfaln birthdom. Each new morn,

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New widows howl, new orphans cry; new forrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it refounds

As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out
Like fyllable of dolour.

Mal. What I believe, I'll wail;

What know, believe; and, what I can redrefs,
As I fhall find the time to friend, I will.
What you have spoke, it may be fo perchance;
This tyrant, whofe fole name blifters our tongues,
Was once thought honeft: you have lov'd him well,

You

a

He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but fomething may * deferve of him through me, and wisdom To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb,

T' appease an angry God.

Macd. I am not treacherous.

Mal. But Macbeth is,

A good and virtuous nature may recoil

In an imperial charge. But I fhall crave your pardon:

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That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose;
Angels are bright ftill, though the brightest fell;
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
Yet Grace muft ftill look fo.

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Macd. I have loft my hopes.

my

Mal. Perchance, even there, where I did find Why in that rawness left you wife and children, Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, Without leave-taking? I pray you,

Let not my jealoufies be your difhonours,

But mine own fafeties.

Whatever I fhall think.

You may be rightly juft,

Macd. Bleed, bleed, poor country!

Great tyranny, lay thou thy bafis fure,

h

doubts.

For goodnefs dares not check thee: Wear thou thy wrongs,

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i The title is affear'd.-Fare thee well, Lord:

I would not be the villain that thou think'ft,
For the whole fpace that 's in the Tyrant's grasp,
And the rich Eaft to boot.

Mal. Be not offended:

I fpeak not as in abfolute fear of you:
I think our country finks beneath the yoak;
It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash
Is added to her wounds, I think withal,
There would be hands uplifted in my right:

e The firft f. childe for children.

f P. and H. omit I pray you.

dares.

firmed. Heath denies that affear'd (or affeer'd which is H.'s reading) fignifies

The two first fo's and C. dare for confirm'd; but tells us its fignification is,

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h The two first fo's, y for thou. i P. and all after, except C. His for The.

P. explains affear'd a law term for confirm'd; which (after having altered The to His, as in note above) interprets

the paffage thus, Macbeth's title is con

eftimed, proportioned, adjusted. But af fear'd or afear'd has here the fame meaning with afraid (which is R.'s reading) and the paffage explains itself thus, The title (which is put for him to whom the title of King belongs) is afraid to affert itself.

And

And here from gracious England have I offer
Of goodly thoufands. But for all this,
When I fhall tread upon the Tyrant's head,
Or wear it on my fword, yet my poor country
Shall have more vices than it had before;
More fuffer, and more fundry ways than ever,
By him that fhall fucceed.

Macd. What fhould he be ?

Mal. It is myfelf I mean, in whom I know
All the particulars of vice fo grafted,

That when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
Will feem as pure as fnow, and the poor State
Efteem him as a lamb, being compar'd
With my confineless harms.

Macd. Not in the legions

Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn'd,
In evils to top Macbeth.

Mal. I grant him bloody,

Luxurious, avaritious, falfe, deceitful,

Sudden, malicious, fmacking of P every fin
That has a name. But there's no bottom, none,
In my voluptuousness; your wives, your daughters,
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The ciftern of my luft; and my defire

All continent inpediments would o'erbear
That did oppofe my will. Better Macbeth,
Than fuch an one to reign.

1 H. after But adds yet.

This conference of Malcolm with Macduff is taken out of the chronicles of Scotland, P.

n P. H. and C. ills for evils. • The three last fo's and R. Smoaking for smacking.

P P, and H. each for every.

Macd

Macd. Boundless intemperance

In nature is a tyranný; it hath been
Th' untimely Emptying of the Happy throne,
And fall of many kings. But fear not yét
To take upon you what is yours: you may
Convey your pleatures in a fpacious plenty,

And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood-wink.
We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
That vulture in you to devour to many,
As will to greatness dedicate themfelves,
Finding it fo inclin'd

Mal. With this, there grows,

In my moft ill-compos'd affection, füch
A ftanchless avarice, that were

† king,

I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
Defire his jewels, and this other's houfe;
And my more having would be as a fauce
To make me hunger more; that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and s loyal,
Deftroying them for wealth,

Macd. This avariće

Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root
Than⚫ fummer-feeming luft, and it hath been
The fword of our flain kings: yet do not fear
Scotland hath foyfons, to fill up your will,
Of your mere own. All there are portable,
With other graces weigh'd.

9 Both P.'s editions, royal for loyal. ■ H. and W. Atrikes for flicks.

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Heath propofes, fummer-feeding.
The two laft fo's, poifens for feyr

s T. H. W. and C. fumme-teeming; fons,

Mal

Mal. But I have none: the King-becofning graces,"
As juftice, verity, temp'rance, ftableness,
Bounty, perfeverance, mercy, lowlinefs,id
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude;
I have no relifh of them, but abound

In the divifion of each feveral crime,

Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I fhould "Pour the sweet milk of concord into helly

Uproar the universal peace, confound

All unity on earth.

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Mal. If fuch a one be fit to govern, fpeak eram

I am as I have spoken.

Macd. Fit to govern?...

No, not to live, O nation miferable

With an untitled tyrant, bloody-fcepter'd,

When shalt thon fee thy wholéfome days again?
Since that the trueft iffae of thy throne

By his own interdiction ftand's accurft,

*And does blafpheme his breed. Thy Royal father
Was a moft fainted king; the queen that bore thee,
Oftner upon her knees than on her feet,

Dy'd every day fhe liv'd w Fare thee well!
Thefe evils thou repeat it upon thyself

* Have banish'd me from Scotland. Omy breaft!
Thy hope ends here.

Halters this line thus, Somply the fapeet milk of concord intosbaser

w P. and all after but G. Ob fare the

well.

The fo's Harb for Have.

Mal,

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