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Subjection I disdain'd: thought one step higher
Would set me highest, and in a moment quit
The debt immense of endless gratitude,
So burdensome, still paying, still to owe.
Forgetful what from him I still receiv'd,
And understood not, that a grateful mind
By owing owes not, but still pays; at once
Indebted, and discharged; what burden then?
O had his pow'rful destiny ordain'd
Me some inferior Angel! I had stood
Then happy; no unbounded hope had rais'd
Ambition. Yet why not? some other pow'r
As great, might have aspir'd, and me, though

mean,

Drawn to his part. But other pow'rs as great
Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within,
Or from without, to all temptations arm'd.

Self-Con demnation

Anguifh. Reflect. on loft happin

Had'st thou the same free-will, and pow'r to Self con

stand?

Thou had'st; whom hast thou then, or what

t' accuse,

But Heaven's free love dealt equally to all?
Be then his love accurs'd! since love or hate
To me alike it deals eternal woe,

Nay curs'd be thou; since against his, thy will
Chose freely what it now so justly rues.
O wretched spirit! which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair;
Which way I fly is Hell, myself am Hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep.
Still threat'ning to devour me, opens wide,
To which the Hell, I suffer, seems a Heaven-
O then, at last relent. Is there no place
Left for repentance? None for pardon left ?
None left, but by submission; and that word
Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame
Among the sprits beneath, whom I seduc'd
With other promises, and other vaunts
Than to submit; boasting I could subdue
Th' Omnipotent. Ay me! they little know
How dearly I abide that boast so vain;

demnation

Blafphemy.

Rage. self condemn.

Defperation

Effay toward repen * Pride.

Angu

Pride.

Malice.

Under what torments inwardly I groan,
While they adore me on the throne of Hell,
With diadem and sceptre high advanc'd,
The lower still I fall, only supreme
In misery; such joy ambition finds.
But say I could repent, and could obtain,
By act of grace, my former state; how soon
Would height recal high thoughts, how soon
unsay

What feign'd submission swore? ease-would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierc'd so deep,
Which would but lead me to a worse relapse,
And heavier fall: So should I purchase dear
Short intermission bought with double smart.
Hopeless. This knows my punisher, therefore as far
Anguish. From granting He, as I from begging peace
All hope excluded thus, behold instead
Malice. Of us, outcast, exil'd-his new delight,

Mankind, created, and for them this world. So farewel hope; and with hope farewel fear, Fixed def- Farewel remorse: all good to me is lost; peration Evil be thou my good; by thee at least Refolved. Divided empire with heaven's King I hold, By thee, and more than half, perhaps, shall reign; Malice bent As man, ere long, and this new world shall know.

Obdur.

on mischief

Liftening.

XLII.

WALKING IN SLEEP, AND A DIS-
TURBED CONSCIENCE.

Enter LADY MACBETH, (1) with a taper.

LOOK you! here she comes. This is Gent. her guise. Observe her. Stand close.

(1) The pupil, if he has not seen MACBETH, must be informed, that Duncan, one of the ancient kings of Scotland, was, according to Buchanan and other hiftorians, murdered by Macbeth, ❤ne of the nobles of that kingdom, at the inftigation of his lady, in

Doct. Her eyes are open.

Wonder.

Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.

Doct. What is it she does now? Look how Attention.

she rubs her hands.

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her to

seem thus washing her hands. I have known

her continue this a quarter of an hour. La. Macb. Yet here's a spot. (1)

Doct. Hark, she speaks.

Guilt.

Attention.

La. Macb. Out, cursed spot. Out, I say Guilt. (2) One, two. Now is the time to do it-Hell Horror. is murky-Fie, my lord! A soldier afraid! Encourag. What need we fear? Who knows it? Who has power to call us to account ?-But, who could Guilt. have thought the old man had so much blood in him?

Gent. Do you mark that?

Atten. with

La. Macb. The Thane of Fife is a married Sufpicion, man. Where is his wife now? Murdered, did Guilt. you say? Who could be so bloody to mangle such sweetness ?. What, will these hands never be clean? No more of that, my lord; no more of Encourag. that. You mar all with your starting.

Here is the smell of blood still-All the per- Guilt.
fumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.
Oh oh oh!

Anguish.

Doct. What a sigh was there! That heart is Suspicion. sorely charged. This disease is beyond my prac

tice.

La. Macb. Wash your hands, put on your Encourage. night gown. Take courage-I tell you, Banquo is buried, all but the blood that was shed at his dispatching; and that has no likeness to be known by. Are afraid that he'll come out Fear. of his grave again? To bed, to bed, to bed.

you

their own house, in order to Macbeth's afcending the throne; and that Shakespeare, in this fcene, intends to reprefent her troubled in her fleep with guilt and fear.

(1) There must be but little emphafis used in expreffing what Lady Macbeth says, because it is but dreaming.

(2) "One, two," must be fpoken as counting a great clock.

There is a knocking at the gate. Come, come, come. What is done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.

XLIII.

INTREATING.

COMPLAINT OF
REFUSING.

Submiffion.

INJURY.

The Embassy from Agamemnon to Achilles, (after the latter had, in disgust, retired from the army) to endeavour to prevail with him to reburn, and join the allies against the Trojans. Ulysses at table, in Achilles's tent, speaks.

HEALTH to Achilles! Happy are thy guests!

Not those more honor'd whom Ätrides feasts:
Tho' gen'rous plenty crown the loaded boards;
That Agamemnon's regal tent affords.

Anxiety. But greater cares sit heavy on our souls;

Not eas'd by banquets, or by flowing bowls. Sympathy. What scenes of slaughter in yon fields appear, The dead we mourn, and for the living fear. Apprehen. Greece on the brink of fate all doubtful stands, And owns no help, but from thy saving hands. Troy, and her sons, for ready vengeance call; Their threat'ning tents already shade our wall. Hear how with shouts their conquests they pro-. claim,

And point at ev'ry ship the vengeful flame.
Awe with For them the Father of the gods declares;
Apprehen. Theirs are his omens, and his thunder theirs.
Terror. See, full of Jove, avenging Hector rise!
All human force the raging chief defies;
What fury in his breast, what light'ning in
his eyes!

He waits but for the morn, to sink in flame
The ships, the Greeks, and all the Grecian name.
Befecching. Return, Achilles! Oh return, tho' late,

To save thy Greeks, and stop the course of fate.
If in that heart or grief, or courage lies,

Rise to redeem: Ah yet to conquer rise.

The day may come, when, all our warriors slain, Warning. That heart shall melt, that courage rise in vain.

He afterwards enumerates the advantageous conditions offered by Agamemnon, to engage him to return. To all which Achilles gives the following answer.

Ulysses! (1)-hear

Stern Firm

A faithful speech, that knows nor art, nor fear, nefs.
What in my secret soul is understood,

My tongue shall utter, and my deeds make good.
Let Greece then know my purpose I retain,
Nor with new treaties vex my peace in vain.
Long toils, long perils in their cause I bore:
But now th' unfruitful glories charm no more.
Fight, or not fight, a like reward we claim;
The wretch and hero find their prize the same;
Alike, regretted in the dust he lies,
Who yields ignobly, or who bravely dies.
Of all my dangers, all my glorious pains,
A life of labours! lo, what fruit remains!
As the bold bird her helpless young attends,
From danger guards them, and from want de-
fends;

In search of prey she wings the spacious air,
And with untasted food supplies her care;
For thankless Greece such hardships have I brav'd,
Her matrons, and her tender infants sav'd.
Long sleepless nights in heavy arms have stood,
And spent laborious days in dust and blood.
I sack'd twelve ample cities on the main,
And twelve lay smoking on the Trojan plain.
Then at Atrides haughty feet were laid
The wealth I gather'd and the spoils I made.
Your mighty monarch these in peace possest;
Some few my soldiers had; himself the rest.
Wrong'd in my love, all proffers I disdain ;
Deceiv'd for once, I trust not kings again.

(1) " Ulyffer!" is to be spoken as a whole fentence.

Displeasure

Sneer with
Reproof.

Refolution.

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