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Macd. (24) He has no children.-

-All my pretty ones? Did you say all? what, all ? oh, hell-kite ! all ? What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam, At one fell swoop?

Mal. Dispute it like a man.

Nacd. I hall do fo: But I muít also feel it as a inan. I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me: did heav'n look on, And would not take their part? finful Macduff, They were all struck for thee! naught that I am, Not for their own demerits, but for mine, Fell slaughter on their souls; heav'n rest them now!

Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword, ler grief Convert to wrath : blunt not the heart, enrage

it.
Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue. But, gentle heav'n !
Cut short all intermislion: front to front;
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
Within my sword's length set him, if he 'Icape,
Then heav'n forgive him too!

Mal. This tune goes inanly;
Come, go we to the king, our power is ready ;
Our lack is nothing but our leave.

Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you

may ; The night is long that never finds the day.

[Exeunt, ACT

(24) He has, &c.] Nothing can be more natural than this reflection : the father's thoughts are wholly ingrofied by his misfortune, and disregarding what Mulcolm says to him, he bursts out into this pathetic exprobriation of the tyrant ; Constance, in King John speaks thus to Pandolph,

He talks to me that never had a fon!

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Enter Lady Macbeth with a l'aper. Gent. Lo, you! here she comes! this is her very guise, and, upon my life, fast afleep; observe her, stand clofe.

Doct. How came she by that light?

Gint. Why, it stood by her: she has light by her continually, 'tis her command.

Dott. You see, her eyes are open.
Gent. Ay, but their sense is Thut.
Doct. What is it she does now? look how she rubs

her hands. Gent. It is an accustom’d action with her, to seenr thus washing her hands. I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Lady. Yet here's a spot.

Doct. Hark, she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more ftrongly.

Lady. Out! damned spot; out, I say-one; two; why then 'tis time to do't- Chell is murky. Fy, my lord, fy, a soldier, and afraid? 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 ?

Doel. Do you mark that?

Lady. The Thane of Fife had a wife : where is slie 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. Here's whe.smell of the blood still : all the per

fumes

fumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh!
oh ! oh!
Do&t. What a figh is there? the heart is forely

charg'd.
Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom,
for the dignity of the whole body.

Doct. Well, well, well-
Gent. Pray God it be, Sir.

Dod. 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. Wash your hands, put on your night-gown, look not so pale—I tell you yet again Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his

grave. Doct. Even fo ?

Lady. 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.

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Scene III. Despised Old Age.
I have lived long enough : (25) my way of life
Is fall’n into the sear, the yellow leaf :
And that which should accompany (26) old age,

As

(25) My way, &c.] Way may be explained by-- -the progress or course of my life : but I must own, Mr. Johnfo:z's conjecture appears very plaufible : “ as (says he,) there is no relation between the way of life, and fallen into the siar, I am inclined to believe, that the wis only an m inverted, and, that it was originally written my may of life.

“ I am now passed from the spring to the autumn of my days, but I am without those comforts that succeed the sprightliness of bloom, and support me in this melancholy season.”

The words the scar, and yellow leaf, seem greatly to countenance this conjecture.

(26) Old age.] Sampson enumerating his sorrows, laments the misery of being contemptible in his old age:

To visitants a gaze
Or pity'd object; these redundant locks,

Robustious

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As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have : but in their stead,
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.

Diseases of the mind, incurable.
Can'st thou not minister to a mind diseas'd,
Pluck from the memory a rooted forrow,
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet (27) oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuff?d bosom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart ?

SCENE V. Reflections on Life. (28) To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Crops

Robustious to no purpose, cluftring down,
Vain monument of strength, till length of years,
And sedentary numbness craze my limbs
To a contemptible old age obscure.

Milton's Sampson Agon. (27) Oblivious, &c.] Alluding to the Nepenthe: a certain mixture, of which opium perhaps was one of the ingredients. Homer, Od. 4, 221.

Νηπενθες τ' αχολoντε, κακων επιληθον απανίων, i. e. the oblivious antidote, causing the forgetfulness of all the evils of life. What is remarkable, had Shakespear understood Greek as well as fourfon, he could not more closely have expressed the meaning of the old bard. Upton.

(28) To, &c.] A cry being heard, Macbeth enquires, Where. fore it was ? and is answered, the queen is dead: upon which he observes :

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She should have died hereafter:
There would have been a time for such a word :
To-morrow, &c.

She

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last fyllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to (29) study death. Out, out, brief candle !
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the ltage,
And then is heard no more! it is a tale,
Told by an ideot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing !

She should not have died now, any time hereafter, to-morrow or no matter when, it would liave been more pleasing than the present ; this naturally raises in his mind the false notion of our thinking to-morrow will be happier than to-day : but “ tomorrow and to-morrow steals over us unenjoy'd and unregaried, and we still linger in the fame expectation to the moment appointed for our end.” &c. Mr. Johnson is for reading,

There would have been a time for such a world!

To-morrow, c.
His conjecture seems rather beautiful than just.

(29) Study, &c.] i. c. the time itself, the yesterdays that are palt, teach even fools to fludy death: death is a lesson so easily learnt, that fools, themselves, inform’d by the very time, can reason and moralize upon it." See As you like it,

This is a fine and just sense ; and this doubtless is Shakespear's true word: the first folio reads dusly death, i. e. says Mr. Tbeobald, the death which reduces us to dust and alhes; and the second sudy: either give good sense, the latter appears to me greatly preferable. In the 6th Scene of the ift Act of this play, speaking of Cawder's dying, he says,

-He dy'd
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw, &C.

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