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 fleeping and the dead Knocks within. Mach, Whence is that knocking? [Exit. [Starting. How is't with me, when every noise appals me? (15) What hands are here? hah! they pluck out mine eyes. Clean from my hand? no, this my hand will rather Making the green one red Enter Lady. Lady. My hands are of your colour; but I fhame To wear a heart fo white; I hear a knocking [Knock. At the fouth entry. Retire we to our chamber; A little water clears us of this deed. How easy is it then? your conftancy Hath left you unattended--hark, more knocking! [Knock. So poorly in your thoughts. Macb. To know my deed, 'twere beft not know myself. Wake, Duncan, with this knocking: 'would thou couldft? [Exeunt. Enter a Porter. [Knocking within. (15) How is't with me, when ev'ry noife appals me?] This reflection is not only drawn from the truth and working of nature; but is fo expreft, as that it might have been copied from this paffage of SOPHOCLES, which Stobaeus has quoted in his chapter upon fearfulness; Απανία γάρ τοι τως φοβεμένῳ ψοφεί. Each noife is fent t' alarm the man of fear. Port: Port. Here's a knocking, indeed if a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knock] Knock, knock, knock. Who's there, i' th' name of Belzebub? here's a farmer, that hang'd himfelf on the expectation of plenty: come in time, have napkins enough about you, here you'll fweat for't. [Knock] Knock, knock. Who's there, in th' other devil's name? faith, here's an equivocator, (16) - that could fwear in both the fcales against either fcale, who committed treafon enough for God's fake, yet could not equivocate to heav'n: oh, come in, equivocator. [Knock] Knock, knock, knock. Who's there? faith, (17) here's an English taylor come hither for ftealing out of a French hofe: come in, taylor, here you may roast your goofe. [Knock] Knock, knock. Never at quiet! what are you? but this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in fome of all profeffions, that go the primrose way to th❜ everlasting bonfire. [Knock] Anon, anon, I pray you, remember the porter. Enter Macduff, and Lenox. Macd. Was it fo late, friend, ere you went to bed, That you do lie fo late? Port. Faith, Sir, we were carousing 'till the fecond cock: And drink, Sir, is a great provoker of three things. Macd. What three things doth drink efpecially provoke? Port. Marry, Sir, nofe-painting, fleep, and urine. Letchery, Sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the defire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore much drink may be faid to be an equivocator with (16) Here's an equivocator who committed treafon enough for God's fake, &c.] This farcafm is levell'd at the Jefuits, who were fo mifchievous in the reigns of Q. Elizabeth and King James Ift, and who then first broach'd that damnable doctrine. Mr. Warburton. As (17) Here's an English taylor come bither for ftealing out of a French bofe:] The archnefs of this joak confifts in this; That a French hofe being fo very fhort and ftrait, a taylor must be a perfect master of his art, who could fteal any thing out of it. to the nature of the French hofe, we have seen that in Henry VIIIth our poet calls them fhort-bolfter'd breeches. Mr. Warburton. letchery; T letchery; it makes him, and it mars him; it fets him on, and it takes him off; it perfuades him, and dif heartens him; makes him ftand to, and not ftand to; in conclufion, equivocates him into a fleep, and giving him the lie, leaves him. Macd. I believe, drink gave thee the lie last night. Port. That it did, Sir, i' th' very throat on me; but I requited him for his lie; and, I think, being too strong for him, though he took up my legs fome time, yet Ï made a fhift to caft him. Macd. Is thy master stirring? Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes. Enter Macbeth. Mach. Good-morrow, both. Macd. Is the King ftirring, worthy Thane? Macb. Not yet. Macd. He did command me to call timely on him; I've almost flipt the hour. Macb. I'll bring you to him. Macd. I know, this is a joyful trouble to you: But yet 'tis one. Macb. The labour, we delight in, phyficks pain; This is the door. Macd. I'll make fo bold to call, for 'tis my limited service. [Exit Macduff. Len. The night has been unruly; where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down: And, as they fay, Lamentings heard i' th' air, ftrange fcreams of death, And prophefying with accents terrible Of dire combuftion, and confus'd events, New hatch'd to th' woeful time: The obfcure bird clamour'd the live-long night. Some fay, the earth was fev'rous, and did shake. Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel Enter Enter Macduff. Macd. O horror! horror! horror! Nor tongue, nor heart, cannot conceive, nor name theeMacb. and Len. What's the matter? Macd. Confufion now hath made his mafter-piece; Moft facrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence The life o' th' building. Mach. What is't you fay? the life? Len. Mean you his Majefty?. Macd. Approach the chamber, and destroy your fight With a new Gorgon.-Do not bid me speak; See, and then speak yourselves: awake! awake! [Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox. Ring the alarum-bell-murder! and treafon! Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! Shake off this downy fleep, death's counterfeit, And look on death itfelf-up, up, and fee The great doom's image-Malcolm! Banquo! As from your graves rife up, and walk like sprights, (18) To countenance this horror. Bell rings. Enter Lady Macbeth. Lady. What's the business, That fuch an hideous trumpet calls to parley The fleepers of the houfe? fpeak. Macd. Gentle Lady, "Tis not for you to hear what I can speak. The repetition in a woman's ear (18) To countenance this horror. Ring the bell.] I have ventur'd to throw out thefe laft words, as no part of the text. Macduff had faid at the beginning of his fpeech, Ring out th' alarumbell; but if the bell had rung out immediately, not a word of what he fays could have been diftinguifh'd. Ring the bell, I fay, was a marginal direction in the Prompter's book for him to order the bell to be rung, the minute that Macduff ceafes fpeaking. In proof of this, we may obferve, that the hemiftich ending Macduff's fpeech, and that beginning Lady Macbeth's, make up a compleat verfe. Now if Ring the bell had been a part of the text, can we imagine the poet would have begun the Lady's fpeech with a broken line? Would Would murder as it fell.-O Banquo, Banquo! Ban. Too cruel, any where. Macduff, I pr'ythee, contradict thyself, Enter Macbeth, Lenox, and Roffe. Macb. Had I but dy'd an hour before this chance, I had liv'd a blessed time: for, from this inftant, There's nothing serious in mortality; All is but toys; renown and grace is dead; Enter Malcolm, and Donalbain. Don. What is amifs? Macb. You are, and do not know't: The fpring, the head, the fountain of your blood Macd. Your royal father's murder'd. Mal. Oh, by whom? Len. Thofe of his chamber, as it feem'd, had don't; Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood, So were their daggers, which, unwip'd, we found Upon their pillows; they ftar'd, and were distracted; No man's life was to be trufted with them. Macb. O, yet I do repent me of my fury, That I did kill them. Macd: Wherefore did you fo? Mach. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temp'rate and furious, Loyal and neutral in a moment? no man. The expedition of my violent love. Out-run the paufer, reafon. Here, lay Duncan; And his gafh'd ftabs look'd like a breach in nature, Steep'd |