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Pofters of the fea and land,

Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,

Thus do go about, about,

And thrice again to make up nine.
Peace!-the charm's wound up.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo, with Soldiers ana other
Attendants.

Mach. So foul and fair a day I have not feen.
Ban. How far is't call'd to Foris?-what are thefe,
So wither'd, and fo wild in their attire,

That look not like th' inhabitants o' th' earth,
And yet are on't? Live you, or are you aught

That man may queftion? You feem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips ;-You should be women;
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret,
That you are fo.

Mach. Speak, if you can; what are you?

1 Witch. All-hail, Mabeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! 2Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! 3 Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! that fhalt be King hereafter. Ban. Good Sir, why do you ftart, and feem to fear Things that do found fo fair? I' th' name of truth, Are ye fantastical, or that indeed [To the Witches.

that our author had traded for the materials of his tragedy: and therefore confirmation was to be fetch'd from this fountain. Accordingly, looking into his hiftory of Scotland, I found the writer very prolix and exprefs, from Hector Boethius, in this remarkable story; and in p. 170. fpeaking of thefe Witches, he ufes this expreffion.

But afterwards the common opinion was, that thefe women were either the weird fifters, that is, as ye would fay, the goddeffes of defliny, &c. Again, a little lower;

The words of the three weird fifters alfo, (of whom before ye have heard) greatly encouraged him thereunto.

And, in feveral other paragraphs there, this word is repeated. I believe, by this time, it is plain beyond a doubt, that the word wayward has obtain'd in Macbeth, where the Witches are spoken of, from the ignorance of the copyifts, who were not acquainted with the Scotch term and that in every paffage, where there is any relation to these Witches or Wizards, my emendation must be embraced, and we must read weird.

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Which

Which outwardly ye fhew? my noble partner
You greet with prefent grace, and great prediction
Of noble having, and of royal hope,

That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not.
If you can look into the feeds of time,

And fay, which grain will grow and which will not;
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear,
Your favours, nor your hate.

I Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail!

3

Witch. Hail!

Witch. Leffer than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not fo happy, yet much happier.

3 Witch. Thou shalt get Kings, though thou be none; So, all hail, Macbeth and Banque !

1 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all-hail !

Mach. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more;
By Sinel's death, I know, I'm Thane of Glamis ;
But how, of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor lives,
A profp'rous gentleman; and, to be King,
Stands not within the profpect of belief,

No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence
You owe this ftrange intelligence? or why
Upon this blafted heath you ftop our way,

With fuch prophetick greeting?-speak, I charge you. [Witches vanifb.

Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has; And these are of them: whither are they vanish'd ? Macb. Into the air: and what feem'd corporal Melted, as breath, into the wind,

Would they had ftaid!

Ban. Were fuch things here, as we do fpeak about? (8)

(8) Were fuch things here, as we do speak about? Or have we eaten of the infane root,

Or

That takes the reafon prifoner ] The infane root, viz. the root which makes infane; as in HORACE Pallida Mors; nempè, quæ facit pallidos.---This fentence, I conceive, is not fo well understood, as I would have every part of Shakespeare be, by his audience and readers. So foon as the Witches vanish from the fight of Macbeth and Banquo, and leave them in doubt whether they had really seen luch Appariti

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Or have we eaten of the infane root,
That takes the reason prisoner?

Macb. Your children fhall be Kings.
Ban. You fhall be King.

Mach. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not fo?
Ban. To th' felf fame tune, and words; who's here?
Enter Roffe and Angus.

Silenc'd with that,

Roffe. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy fuccefs; and when he reads
Thy personal venture in the rebels fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend,
Which should be thine, or his.
In viewing o'er the reit o' th' felf-fame day,
He finds thee in the flout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afraid of what thyfelf didft make,
Strange images of death. As thick as hail,

Came poft on poft; and every one did bear
Thy praifes in his kingdom's great defence:

ons, or whether their eyes were not deceiv'd by fome illufion; Banquo immediately starts the question,

Were fuch things here, &c.

I was fure, from a long obfervation of Shakespeare's accuracy, that he alluded here to fome particular circumftance in the hiftory, which, I hoped, I should find explain'd in Holing head. But I found myself deceived in this expectation This furnishes a proper occafion, therefore, to remark our author's fignal diligence; and happiness at applying whatever he met with, that could have any relation to his fubject. Hector Boethius, who gives us an account of Sueno's army being intoxicated by a preparation put upon them by their fubtle enemy, informs us; that there is a plant, which grows in great quantity in Scotland, call'd Solatrum Amentiale; that its berries are purple, or rather black, when full ripe; and have a quality of laying to fleep; or of driving into madness, if a more than ordinary quantity of them be taken. This paffage of Boethius, I dare fay, our poet had an eye to and, I think, it fairly accounts for his mention of the infane root. Diofcorides lib. iv. c. 74. Iepì Στpúxvo paving, attributes the fame properties to it. Its claffical name, I obferve, is Solanum; but the fhopmen agree to call it Solatrum. This, prepar'd in medicine, (as Theophrafius tells us, and Pliny from him;) has a peculiar effect of filling the patient's head with odd images and fancies: and particularly that of feeing Spirits: an effect, which, I am perfuaded, was no fecret to our author. Bochart and Salmafius have both been coprous upon the description and qualities of this plant.

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And

And pour'd them down before him.

Ang. We are fent,

To give thee, from our royal mafter, thanks;
Only to herald thee into his fight,

Not pay thee.

Roffe. And for an earneft of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor:
In which addition, hail, moft worthy Thane!
For it is thine.

Ban. What, can the devil fpeak true?
Mach. The Thane of Cawdor lives;
Why do you drefs me in his borrow'd robes ?
Ang. Who was the Thane, lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life,
Which he deferves to lofe. Whether he was
Combin'd with Norway, or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage; or that with both
He labour'd in his country's wrack, I know not:
But treafons capital, confefs'd, and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.

Macb. Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor!
The greatest is behind. Thanks for your pains.

[Afide.

[To Angus.

Do you not hope, your children fhall be Kings

[To Banquo.

When those, that gave the Thane of Cawdor to me,
Promis'd no lefs to them?

Ban. That trufted home,

Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,

Befides the Thane of Cawdor. But 'tis ftrange:

And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,

The inftruments of darkness tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray us
In deepeft confequence.

Coufins, a word, I pray you.

7

Macb. Two truths are told,

[To Roffe and Angus.

[Afide.

As happy prologues to the fwelling act

Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen

This fupernatural folliciting

Cannot be ill; cannot be good.-If ill,

Why

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Why hath it giv'n me earnest of fuccefs,
Commencing in a truth? I'm Thane of Cawdor.
If good; why do I yield to that suggestion,
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my feated heart knock at my ribs
Against the ufe of nature? prefent feats (9)
Are less than horrible imaginings.

My thought, whofe murder yet is but fanftaftical,
Shakes fo my fingle ftate of man, that function
Is fmother'd in furmife; and nothing is,

But what is not.

Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt!

Macb. If chance will have me King, why, chance may

crown me,

Without my ftir.

Ban. New honours, come upon him,

(9)

-prefent fears

[Afide.

Are less than horrible imaginings.] Macbeth, while he is projecting the murder, which he afterwards puts in execution, is thrown into the most agonizing affright at the profpect of it: which foon recovering from, thus he reafons on the nature of his diforder. But imagin ings are fo far from being more or less than prefent fears, that they are the fame things under different words. Shakespeare certainly wrote;

prefent feats

Are less than horrible imaginings.

i. e. When I come to execute this murder, I fhall find it much less dreadful than my frighted imagination now prefents it to me. A confideration drawn from the nature of the imagination.

Mr. Warburton. Macbeth, fpeaking again of this murder in a subsequent scene, ules the very fame term;

I'm fettled, and bend up

Each corp'ral agent to this terrible feat. And it is a word, elsewhere, very familiar with our poet. I'll only add, in aid of my friend's correction, that we meet with the very fame fentiment, which our poet here advances, in OvID's Epifiles; Terror in his ipfo major folet effe periclo.

Paris Helenæ. ver. 349. And it is a maxim with Machiavel, that many things are more fear'd afar off, than near at hand. E jono molte cofe che difcofo paiono terribili, infopportabili, ftrani; & quando tu ti appreffi loro, le riefcone bumane, fopportabili, domeftiche. Et pero fi dice, che fono maggiori li fpaventi che i mali. Mandragola. Atto. 3. Sc. 11. N 4 Like

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