That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up th' access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between
Th' effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, "Hold, hold!"_

Enter MACBETH.

Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!

Thy letters have transported me beyond

This ignorant present, and I feel now

The future in the instant.

Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men
May read strange matters: to beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower,

Duncan so certain, that the ominous raven is hoarse with proclaiming it. Warburton would read, "The raven himself's not hoarse," which appears to be the direct opposite of what was intended by the poet. Drayton, in his "Barons' Wars," 1603, b. v. st. 42, has these lines :

"The ominous raven with a dismal cheer,
Through his hoarse beak of following horror tells."

⚫ And PALL thee-] i. e. Wrap thyself as in a pall.

VOL. VII.

I

But be the serpent under it. He that's coming
Must be provided for; and you shall put
This night's great business into my despatch,
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.
Mach. We will speak farther.
Lady M.

To alter favour ever is to fear.

Leave all the rest to me.

Only look up clear:

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

The Same. Before the Castle.

Hautboys and Torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENOX, MACDUFF, ROSSE, Angus, and Attendants.

Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat: the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself

Unto our gentle senses.

Ban.

This guest of summer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,

By his lov'd mansionry, that the heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze,

Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird

Hath made his pendent bed, and procreant cradle ; Where they most breed" and haunt, I have observ'd, The air is delicate.

10 Where they MOST breed-] All the folios have "must breed ;" and there the passage is thus pointed :

"Where they must breed, and haunt: I have observ'd

The air is delicate."

Rowe changed must to "most," and there is little doubt that it was a misprint in the first folio, which the others implicitly followed. Nevertheless, sense might be made out of the passage as it stands in the old copies, supposing Banquo to mean only, that the swallows must breed in their procreant cradles ; adding, in the words, "the air is delicate," his accordance with Duncan's previous remark. In the same speech there is a misprint of barlet for "martlet," which error is also repeated in the folios, 1632, 1664, and 1685.

Enter Lady MACBETH.

Dun.
See, see! our honour'd hostess.-
The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,

Which still we thank as love: herein I teach you,
How you shall bid God yield us for your pains,
And thank us for your trouble'.

Lady M.

All our service,

In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and single business to contend
Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith
Your majesty loads our house. For those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,

We rest your hermits.

Dun.

Where's the thane of Cawdor?

We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose
To be his purveyor; but he rides well,

And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him
To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,

We are your guest to-night.

Lady M.

Your servants ever

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt, To make their audit at your highness' pleasure,

Still to return your own.

Dun.

Give me your hand;

Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him.
By your leave, hostess.

1 How you shall bid God yield us for your pains,

[Exeunt.

And thank us for your trouble.] Malone had "no distinct conception" of what was meant by this passage, and Steevens was equally at fault. To us the whole speech seems sufficiently clear: Duncan says, that even love sometimes occasions him trouble, but that he thanks it as love notwithstanding; and that thus he teaches Lady Macbeth, while she takes trouble on his account, to “bid God yield," or reward, him for giving that trouble.

SCENE VII.

The Same. A Room in the Castle.

Hautboys and torches. Enter, and pass over the stage, a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service. Then, enter MACBETH.

Macb. If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well

It were done quickly: if the assassination

Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With his surcease success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time1,-
We'd jump the life to come.—But in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague th' inventor. This even-handed justice
Commends th' ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double trust :
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject;
Strong both against the deed: then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against
The deep damnation of his taking-off';

2 Enter a SEWER,] A" sewer" (says Steevens) was an officer, so called from his placing the dishes upon the table. Asseour, French; from asseoir, to place.

With his SURCEASE success ;] To " surcease is to finish or conclude, and the meaning, of course, is, " and catch success with its conclusion."

4 · and SHOAL of time,] The old reading is schoole, which Theobald altered to "shoal;" and perhaps no better suggestion, to cure an obvious error, could be made. "We'd JUMP the life to come" is, We would take the chance of, or risk, the life to come. See Vol. vi. p. 203.]

And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,

Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,

That tears shall drown the wind.-I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on the other.-

Enter Lady Macbeth.

How now! what news?

Lady M. He has almost supp'd. Why have
Why have you left

the chamber?

Macb. Hath he ask'd for me?

Lady M.

Know you not, he has?

Mach. We will proceed no farther in this business: He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people,

Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.

Lady M.

Was the hope drunk,

Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since,
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale

At what it did so freely?

Such I account thy love.

From this time,

Art thou afeard

To be the same in thine own act and valour,
As thou art in desire? Would'st thou have that
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,

And live a coward in thine own esteem,

Letting I dare not wait upon I would,
Like the poor cat i' the adage"?

Macb.

Pr'ythee, peace.

Like the poor cat i' the adage ?] The adage is,

"The cat loves fish, but dares not wet her feet."

It is found in the following form in "Adagia Scotica," &c. collected by R. B. 12mo, 1668, "Ye breed of the cat: ye would fain have fish, but ye have na will to wet your feet." See " Bridgewater Catalogue," 1837, p. 2.