lechery ; it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, and disheartens him; makes him ftand to, and not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him into a sleep, 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 sometime, yet I made a shift to cast him.

Macd. Is thy master ftirring?
Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.
Len. Good-morrow, noble Sir.

Enter Macbeth.
Macb. Good-morrow, both.
Macd. Is the King stirring, 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 mylimited service.

[Exit Macduff. Len. Goes the King hence to-day? Macb. He did appoint fo.

Len. The night has been unruly ; where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down: And, as they say, Lamentings heard i'th' air, ftrange screams of death, And prophesying with accents terrible Of dire combustion, and confus'd events, New hatch'd to th' woeful time : The obscure bird clamour’d the live-long night. Some say, the earth was fev'rous, and did shake.

Macb. 'Twas a rough night.

Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to it.


Enter Macduff. Macd. O horror! horror! horror! Nor tongue, nor heart, cannot conceive, nor name thee..

Macb. and Len. What's the matter ?

Macd. Confusion now hath made his master-piece ;
Moft facrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o'th' building.

Mucb. What is't you say? the life?
Len. Mean you his Majesty ?-

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 treason !
Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself-up, up, and see
The great doom's image-Malcolm! Banquo!!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like fprights,
(18) To countenance this horror.

Bell rings. Enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady. What's the business,
That such an hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house ? speak.

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 these last words, as no part of the text. Mard: ff had said at the beginning of his speech, Ring out th' alarumbe!l; but if the bell had rung out immediately, not a word of what he says could have been distinguish'd. Ring the bell, I say, was a marginal direction in the Prompter's book for him to order the bell to be rung, the minute that Macduff ceases speaking.

In proof of this, we may observe, that ibe hemistich ending Macduff's speech, and that beginning Lady Macbeth's, make up a compleat verse. Now if Ring the bell had been a part of the text, can we imagine the poet would have begun the Lady's speech with a broken line:


Would murder as it fell.--O Barquo, Banquo !

Enter Banquo.
Our royal master's murder'd.

Lady. Woe, alas!
What, in our house?

Ban. Too cruel, any where.
Macduf, I pr'ythee, contradi& thy felf,
And say, it is not so.

Enter Macbeth, Lenox, and Rolle.
Macb. Had I but dy'd an hour before this chance,
I had liv'd a blessed time: for, from this instant,
There's nothing serious in mortality;
A11 is but toys; renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this yault to brag of.

Enter Malcolm, and Donalbain.
Don. What is amiss ?

Macb. You are, and do not know't:
The spring, the head, the fountain of


Is stopt; the very source of it is stopt.

Macd. Your royal father's murder'd.
Mal. Oh, by whom?

Len. Those of his chamber, as it seem'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 star'd, and were distracted;
No man's life was to be trusted with them.

Macb. O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
That I did kill them.-

Macd. Wherefore did you fo?..

Macb. 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 pauser, reason. Here, lay Duncar;
His filver kin laced with his golden blood,
And his gash'd ftabs look'd like a breach in nature,
For ruin's wasteful entrance; there, the murderers;



Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain,
That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage, to make's love known?

Lady. Help me hence, ho! [Seeming to faint,
Macd. Look to the Lady,

Mal. Why do we hold our tongues,
'That most may claim this argument for ours ?

Don. What should be spoken here,
Where our fate, hid within an augre-hole,
May rush, and seize us? Let's away, our tears
Are not yet brew'd.

Mal. Nor our strong sorrow on
The foot of motion.

Ban. Look to the Lady; [Lady Macbeth is carried out.
And when we have our naked frailties hid,
That suffer in exposure; let us meet,
And question this most bloody piece of work,
To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us:
In the great hand of God I stand, and thence,
Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight
Of treas'nous malice,

Macb, So do I,
All. So, all.

Macb. Let's briefly put on manly readiness,
And meet i'th' hall together.
All. Well contented.

Mal. What will you do? let's not confort with them :
To fhew an unfelt sorrow, is an office
Which the false man does easy. I'll to England.

Don. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
Shall keep us both the safer; where we are,
There's daggers in mens smiles ; the near in blood,
The nearer bloody.

Mal. This murderous shaft, that's shot,
Hath not yet lighted; and our fafest way
Is to avoid the aim, Therefore, to horse;
And let us no: be dainty of leave-taking,
But shift away; there's warrant in that theft,
Which teals itself when there's no mercy left. (Exeunt,


SCENE, the Outside of Macbeth's Castle.

Enter Rosse, with an Old Man.

Hreescore and ten I can remember well, Old M. T

Tichinthervolume of which time, I've leen Hours dreadful, and things strange; but this fore night Hath trifed former knowings.

Rolfe. Ah, good father,
Thou seeft, the heav'ns, as troubled with man's act,

Threaten this bloody stage: by th'clock, 'tis day;
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:
Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame,
That darknes; does the face of earth intomb,
When living light should kiss it?

Old M. 'Tis unnatural,
Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last,
A faulcon, tow'ring in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawkt at, and kill'd.
Rose. And Duncan's horses, (a thing most strange and

certain !) (19) Beauteous and swift, the minions of the race, Turn'd wild in nature, broke their falls, flung out, Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would Make war with man.

Old M. 'Tis said, they eat each other. (19) And Duncan's borses, (a thirg. . frange and certair!) Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race,]

I am pretty certain, all the copies have err’d, one after another, in this reading: and that I have restor'd the truc one. does not mean, that they were the best of their breed; but that ihey were excellent rocers: in which sense he very poetically calls them, the minions of the race. This is a mode of expresion, which he seems very fond of. So, tefore, in this play,

Like valour's minion, carved out his passage; King Jobn.

Fortune Thall coll forth

Out of one side ber happy ninior. ift. Henry. IV.

Who is sweet fortune's minion, and her pride. And again;

Gentlemen of the Shade, minions of the more.

The pott

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