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And I must be from thence !
I have said.
Macd. He has no children. All my pretty ones ?
all ? — 0, hell-kite! — All ? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop ?
Mal. Dispute it like a man.
I shall do so ;
Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword : let grief Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes, 230 And braggart with my tongue. — But, gentle Heavens, Cut short all intermission ; front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape, Heaven forgive him too ! Mal.
This tune goes manly. Come, go we to the king : our power is ready ;
216 He. Refers either to Mal- 232 intermission, delay. (R) colm or to Macbeth. (R)
235 tune. The folio time, which 220 Dispute it, i. e. contend with Rowe corrected. Cf. As You Like it. (w)
It, V. iii. 31, and King John, III. 225 Naught, vile creature. (R) iii. 26. (w)
Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth
you may ; The night is long that never finds the day. (Exeunt. 240
SCENE I. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle.
but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walk'd ?
Gentlewoman. Since his Majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon ’t, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast sleep.
Doct. A great perturbation in nature, — to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watch- 10 ing. In this slumb’ry agitation, besides her walking and other actual performances, what at any time have you heard her say ?
Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her.
Doct. You may to me; and 't is most meet you should.
Gent. Neither to you, nor any one, having no witness to confirm my speech.
Enter Lady MACBETH, with a taper. Lo you! here she comes. This is her very guise, and upon my life fast asleep. Observe her: stand close.
237 Our lack ... leave, i. e. we 230 Put on, incite, instigate. inneed nothing but leave to set out, struments, agents. (R) or to take our leave. (R)
12 actual, active. (R)
Doct. How came she by that light?
Gent. Why, it stood by her : she has light by her continually ; 't is her command.
Doct. You see, her eyes are open.
Doct. What is it she does now ? Look how she rubs her hands.
Gent. It is an accustom'd action with her to seem thus washing her hands: I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.
Lady M. Yet here 's a spot.
Doct. Hark! she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.
Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say! — One; two: why, then 't is time to do 't. — Hell is murky! Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afеar'd? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? — Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him ?
Doct. Do you mark that?
Lady M. The Thane of Fife had a wife : where is she now?
What, will these hands ne'er be clean ? No more o' that, my lord ; no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.
Doct. Go to, go to: you have known what you should not.
Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known.
Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. 50 Oh! oh! oh!
25 is The folio, are, due, perhaps, to a compositor's mistaking
sense for a plural noun. [Rowe's correction.)
36 What, i. e. why. (R)
Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charg’d.
Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom for the dignity of the whole body.
Doct. Well, well, well,--
Doct. This disease is beyond my practice : yet I have known those which have walk'd in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.
Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown ; look not so pale. – I tell you yet again, Banquo
's buried : he cannot come out on 's grave. Doct. Even so ?
Lady M. To bed, to bed : there's knocking at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What's done cannot be undone: to bed, to bed, to bed.
[Exit Lady MACBETH. Doct. Will she go now to bed ? Gent. Directly.
Doct. Foul whisp’rings are abroad. Unnatural deeds Do breed unnatural troubles : infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. More needs she the divine than the physician. God, God, forgive us all! Look after her ; Remove from her the means of all annoyance, And still keep eyes upon her. — So, good night : My mind she has mated, and amaz’d my sight. I think, but dare not speak. Gent.
Good night, good Doctor.
68 on's, of his. (R)
annoyance, doing harm to herself. (R)
15 God, God. It is more than probable that Shakespeare wrote, Good God. (w)
VOL. XIII. – 14
77 still, always. (R)
SCENE II. - The Country near Dunsinane.
Near Birnam wood
10 Protest their first of manhood. Ment.
What does the tyrant ?
Now does he feel
20 Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe Upon a dwarfish thief.
mortified man, the ascetic. 8 file, list. (R) Cf. “provoke a saint." [Some see 18 minutely, momentarily. The a reference to the notion of the accent is on the first syllable. corpse bleeding in the presence of the murderer.]