Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers Courage, to make's love known? Lady. Help me hence, ho! Mal. Why do we hold our tongues, [Seeming to faint, That most may claim this argument for ours? Where our fate, hid within an augre-hole, May rush, and feize us? Let's away, our tears Mal. Nor our ftrong forrow on The foot of motion. Ban. Look to the Lady; [Lady Macbeth is carried out. And when we have our naked frailties hid, That fuffer in expofure; let us meet, And question this molt bloody piece of work, Of treas'nous malice. Mach. So do I. All. So, all. Macb. Let's briefly put on manly readiness, And meet i' th' hall together. All. Well contented. [Exeunt Mal. What will you do? let's not confort with them : To fhew an unfelt forrow, is an office Which the falfe man does eafy. I'll to England. Don. To Ireland, I; our feparated fortune Shall keep us both the fafer; where we are, There's daggers in mens fmiles; the near in blood The nearer bloody. Mal. This murderous fhaft, that's hot, Hath not yet lighted; and our fafeft way Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, But fhift away; there's warrant in that theft, Which steals itself when there's no mercy left. [Exeunt. SCENE, SCENE, the Outfide of Macbeth's Caftle. Enter Roffe, with an Old Man. Old M. Within the volume of which time, I've feen Hreefcore and ten I can remember well, Hours dreadful, and things ftrange; but this fore night Hath trifled former knowings. Roffe. Ah, good father, Thou feeft, the heav'ns, as troubled with man's act, Old M.-'Tis unnatural, Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, Roffe. And Duncan's horfes, (a thing moft ftrange and Beauteous and fwift, the minions of the race, Make war with man. Old M. 'Tis faid, they eat each other. (19) And Duncan's borfes, (a thing moft ftrange and certain!) Beauteous and fift, the minions of their race,] The poet I am pretty certain, all the copies have err'd, one after another, in this reading: and that I have reftord the true one. does not mean, that they were the best of their breed; but that they were excellent racers: in which fenfe he very poetically calls them, the minions of the race. This is a mode of expreffion, which he feems very fond of. So, before, in this play, Like valour's minion, carved out his paffage, King John. Fortune fhall cull forth Out of one fide her happy minion. A Henry IV. Who is Tweet fortune's minion, and her pride. And again; -Gentlemen of the fhade, minions of the moon. Roffe. They did fo: to the amazement of mine eyes, That look'd upon't. Enter Macduff. Here comes the good Macduff. How goes the world, Sir, now? Macd. Why, fee you not? Roffe. Is't known, who did this more than bloody deed? Magd. Thofe, that Macbeth hath slain, Roffe. Alas, the day! What good could they pretend? Macd. They were fuborn'd; Malcolm, and Donalbain, the King's two fons, Roffe. 'Gainft nature still ;- Thine own life's means.-Then 'tis most like, Macd. He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone, To be invefted. Roffe. Where is Duncan's body? Macd. Carried to Colmes-hill, The facred ftorehouse of his Predeceffors, And guardian of their bones. Roffe. Will you to Scone ? Macd. No, coufin, I'll to Fife. Roffe. Well, I will thither. Macd. Well, may you fee things well done there, (adieu;} Left our old robes fit easier than our new! Roffe. Farewel, father. Old M. God's benifon go with you, and with those That would make good of bad, and friends of foes. [Exeunt, A CT III. SCENE, an Apartment in the Palace. T Enter Banquo. `Hou haft it now; King, Cawdor, Glamis, all But that myself fhould be the root, and father And fet me up in hope? but, hush, no more. Trumpets found. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Macbeth, Lenox, Roffe, Lords and Attendants. Macb. Here's our chief guest. Lady. If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast, And all things unbecoming. Macb. To-night we hold a folemn fupper, Sir, And I'll request your prefence. Ban. Lay your Highness' Command upon me; to the which, my duties For ever knit. Macb. Ride you this afternoon ? Ban. Ay, my good Lord. Macb. We fhould have elfe defir'd Your good advice (which still hath been both grave We'll take to-morrow. Is it far you ride? Ban. As far, my Lord, as will fill up the time 'Twixt this and fupper. Go not my horfe the better, I must become a borrower of the night Macb. Fail not our feaft. Ban. My Lord, I will not. Macb. We hear, our bloody coufins are bestow'd Farewel. The fweeter welcome, we will keep ourself [Exit Banquo. 'Till supper-time alone: 'till then, God be with you. [Exeunt Lady Macbeth, and Lords Manent Macbeth, and a Servant. Sirrah, a word with you attend thofe men Our pleasure? Ser. They are, my Lord, without the palace-gate. Macb. Bring them before us-To be thus, is nothing; [Exit Servant. But to be fafely thus.Our fears in Banquo Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature Reigns that, which would be fear'd. 'Tis much he dares, (20) Let ev'ry man be mafter of his time 'Till feven at night, to make fociety The javeeter welcome: We will keep our felf 'Till fupper-time alone.] I am furpriz'd, none of the editors fhould quarrel with the pointing. How could ev'ry man's being mafter of his own time 'till night, make fociety then the fweeter? for, fo, every man might have gone into company in the mean while, and pall'd himself for the night's entertainment. My regulation, I dare warrant, retrieves the poet's meaning. "Let every man (fays the "King,) be master of his own time 'till feven o'clock: and that I may have the ftronger enjoyment of your companies then, I'll "abftain from all company 'till fupper-time," And |