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Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

Roffe. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, That ever yet they heard.

Macd. Hum ! I guess at it.

Role. Your castle is surpriz’d, your wife and babes Savagely flaughter'd; to relate the manner, Were on the quarry of these murther'd deer To add the death of you.

Mal. Merciful heav'n!
What, man ! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give forrow words; the grief, that does not speak,
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break,

Macd. My children too!
Rolle. Wife, children, fervants, all that could be

found. Macd. And I must be from thence! my wife kill'd

too !
Rofe. I've said.

Mal. Be comforted.
Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.
Macd. (18) He has no children.-

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

Mal. Difpute it like a man. ***
Macd. I fhall do (o : ;-

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(18) He has, &c.] Nothing can be more natural than this redection ; the father's thoughts are wholly engrossed by his mifforture, and disregarding what Malcolm fays to him, he bursts out into this pathetic exprobation of the tyrant ; Conftance in king Fobn speaks thus to Pandolph, He talks to me that riever had a son !


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But I must also feel it as a man.
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me: did heav'n look on,
And would not take their part? sinful Macduff,
They were all ftruck for thee! naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell Naughter on their souls ; heav'n reft there now !
Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword, let

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 intermission : front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself ; Within my swords length set him, if he 'scape, Then heav'n forgive him too!

Mal. This tune goes manly : Come, go we to the king, our power is ready; Our lack is nothing but our leave, Mạcbeth Is ripe for thaking, and the powers above Put on their instruments., Receive what cheer you

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



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

Dot. How came fhe by that light ?

Gent. Why, it ftood by her : fhe has light by her continually, 'tis her command.


Doet. You see, her eyes are open. :3
Gent. Ay, but their sense is Thut.

usori ai Doct. What is it she does now? look how she rubs her hands:

Gent. It is an accustom'd action with her, to feem 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 Atrongly,

Lady. Out! damned spot; out, I say, one; two; why then 'tis time to do't hell 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 ?

Doet. Do you mark that?

Lady. The Thane of Fife had a wife : where is the 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 Dott. 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 the smell of the blood still : all the perfumes of Arabia will not fweeten this little hand, Oh! oh! oh!

Dol. 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,

Do&t. Well, well, well
Gent. Pray God it be, Sir.



ried ;

Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those which have walk'd in their fleep, 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 buhe cannot come out of his

grave. Doct. Even so ?

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.

SCENE III. Despis'd Old-Age.
I have lived long enough : (18) my way of life
Is fall'n into the fear, the yellow leaf:
And that which should accompany
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 feign deny, and dare noc.

old age,

(18) My way, &c.] Way may be explained by -- the progress, or course of my life: but I must own, Mr. Johnson's conjecture appears very plausible :

as, says he, there is no relation between the way of life, and fallen into the sear, I am inclined to believe, that the w is only an m inverted, and, that it was originally written my may of life.

" I am now paffed 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 fear, and yellow leaf, seem greatly to countedance this conjecture:

* Old-age] Šampson enumerating his sorrows, laments che misery! of being contemptible in his old-age :

To viltants a gaze
Or pity'd object; these redundant locks,
Robustious to no purpose, clustring down,
Vain monument of Atrength, till length of years,
And fedentary numbness craze my limbs
To a contemptible old age obscure.

Milton's Samson Agons



Difcafes of the Mind, incurable.
Canst 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 (19) oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuff's bofom of that perilous stuff,
Which weighs upon the heart?

Scene V. Reflections on Life.
(20) To-morrow, and to-mosrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time ;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

32 th

(19) Oblivious, &c.] Alluding to the Nepenthe : a certain mixture, of which opium perhaps was one of the ingredients. Horner Od. 4. 221.

Νηπενθες τ' αχολoντε, κακων επιληθον απαθων. i.e. the oblivious antidote, causing the forgetfulness of all the evils of life,

What is remarkable, had Shakespear understood Greek as well as Jonson, he could not more closely have expressed the meaning of the old bard. Upton.

(20) To, &c.] A cry being heard, Macbeth enquires, Wherefore it was? and is anfwer'd, the queen is dead : upon which he observes :

She should have dy'd hereafter :
There would have been a time for such a word :

She should not have died now, any time hereafter, to-morrow or
no matter when, it would have been more pleafing than the pre-
Sent: this naturally raises in his mind the false notion of our
thinking to-morrow will be happier than to-day: but “ to-mor-
row and to-morrow steals over us unenjoy'd and unregarded, and
we still linger in the same expectation to the moment appointed
for our end." &c.

Mr. Jobnfon is for reading,
i4. There would have been a time for- such a world!

To-morrow, &C.
His conjecture seems rather beautiful than juft. See note 44.


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