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Lady. Now.
Macb. As I descended ?
Lady. Ay.
Macb, Hark!---who lies i'ch' second chamber?
Lady. Donalbain.
Macb. This is a forry fight. [Looks on his hands.
Lady. A foolish thought, to say, a forry fight.
Macb. There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cryod,

murder!
They wak'd each other; and I stood and heard them;
But they did say their prayers, and address them
Again to sleep.
Lady. There are two lodg'd together.

Macb. One cry'd, God bless us! and Amen, the other; As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear, I could not say, Amen, When they did say, God bless us.

Lady. Consider it not so deeply.

Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen? I had most need of blefling, and Amen Stuck in my throat.

Lady. These deeds must not be thought, After these ways; so, it will make us mad.

Mach. Methought, I heard a voice cry, sleep no more! Macbeth doth murder sleep; the innocent feep; Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, The death of each day's life, fore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feaft.

Lady. What do you mean? Macb. Still it cry'd, seep no more, to all the house; Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cardor Shall sleep no more ; Macbeth shall sleep no more!

Lady. Who was it, that thus cry'd? why, worthy Thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think So brain-fickly of things; go, get some water, And wash this filthy witnefs from your

hand. Why did you bring these daggers from the place ? They must lie there. Go, carry them, and smear The sleepy grooms with blood.

Macb.

Macb. I'll go no more ;
I am afraid to think what I have done ;
Look on't again, I dare not.

Lady. Infirm of purpose !
Give me the daggers ; the sleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures ; 'tis the eye of child-hood,
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,
For it must seem their guilt.

[Exit.
Knocks within.
Macb. Whence is that knocking ? [Starting:
How is't with me, when every noise appals me? (15)
What hands are here? hah! they pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand ? no, this my hand will rather
Thy multitudinous sea incarnadine,
Making the green one red

Enter Lady. Lady. My hands are of your colour ; but I shame To wear a heart fo white; I hear a knocking (Knock. At the south entry. Retire we to our chamber; A little water clears us of this deed. How easy is it then your constancy Hath left you unattended --hark more knocking! [Knock. Get on your night-gown, left occasion call us, And Thew us to be watchers; be not lost So poorly in your thoughts.

Macb. To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. Wake, Duncan, with this knocking: 'would thou could f!

[Exeunt. Enter a Porter.

[Knocking within. (15) How is't with me, when ev'ry noise appals me ?] This reflection is not only drawn froin the truth and working of nature; but is so exprest, as that it might have been copied from this passage of SOPHOCLES, which Stobaeus has quoted in his chapter upon fearfulness;

"Απανία γάρ τοι τως φοβεμένα ψοφεί.
Each noise is fent alarm the man of fear,

Perta

Port. Here's a knocking, indeed: if a man were porter

of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. Knock) Knock, knock, knock. Who's there, i' th' name of Belzebub ? here's a farmer, that hang'd himself on the expectation of plenty: come in time, have napkins enough about you, here you'll sweat for't. [Knock] Knock, knock. Who's there, in th’ other devil's name? faith, here's an equivocator, (16) that could swear in both the scales against either scale, who committed treason enough for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heav'n: oh, come in, equivocator. [Knock] Knock, knock, knock. Who's there? faith, (17) here's an English taylor come hither for stealing out of a French hofe: come in, taylor, here you may roast your goose. (Knock] Knock, knock. Never at quiet! what are you? but this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way to th' everlasting bonfire. [Knock] Anon, anon, I pray you, remember the porter.

Enter Macduff, and Lenox. Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, That

you

do lie so late? Port. Faith, Sir, we were carousing'till the second cock: And drink, Sir, is a great provoker of three things.

Macd. What three things doth drink especially provoke?

Port. Marry, Sir, nose painting, Neep, and urine. Lechery, Sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance. Therefore much drink may be said to be an equivocator with

(16) Here's an equivocator.--who committed treason enough for God's Jake, &c.] This sarcasm is levell’d at the Jesuits, who were so mischievous in the reigns of Q. Elizabeth and K. James ift. and who then first broach'd that damnable doctrine.

Mr. Warburton. (17) Here's an English taylor come bither for stealing out of a French boje:) The archness of this joak conlills in this; That a French hose being so very short and strait, a taylor must be a perfect master of his art, who could steal any thing out of it. As to the nature of the French hose; we have seen that in Henry VIIIth: our poet calls them short-bolster'd breeches,

Mr. Warburtoti.

lechery;

lechery ; it makes him, and it mars him; it sets him on, and it takes him off; it perfuades him, and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and not stand to; in conclufion, equivocates him into a fleep, and giving him the lie, leaves him.

Macd. I believe, drink gave thee the lie last night.

Port. That it did, Sir, i'th' very throat on me; but I requited him for his lie; and, I think, being too strong for him, though he took up my legs fometime, yet made a shift to cast him."

Macd. Is thy mafter firring?
Our knocking has awak'd him; here he comes.
Len. Good-morrow, noble Sir.

Enter Macbeth.
Macb. Good-morrow, both.
Macd. Is the King stirring, worthy Thane?
Macb. Not yet.

Macd. He did command me to call timely on him; I've almost flipt the hour.

Macb, I'll bring you to him.

Macd. I know, this is a joyful trouble to you: But yet 'tis one.

Macb. The labour, we delight in, physicks pain; This is the door. Macd. I'll make so bold to call, for’tis mylimited service.

[Exit Macduff. Len. Goes the King hence to-day? Macb. He did appoint so.

Len. The night has been unruly ; where we lay, Our chimneys were blown down: And, as they say, Lamentings heard i'th' air, strange screams of death, And prophesying with accents terrible Of dire combustion, and confus'd events, New hatch'd to th' woeful time : The obscure bird clamour'd the live-long night. Some say, the earth was fev'rous, and did shake.

Macb. 'Twas a rough night.

Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel A fellow to it.

Enter

Enter Macduff. Macd. O horror! horror! horror! Nor tongue, nor heart, cannot conceive, nor name thee-

Macb. and Len. What's the matter?
Macd. Confusion now hath made his master-piece;
Most facrilegious murder hath broke ope
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence
The life o'th' building.

Macb. What is't you say? the life?
Len. Mean you his Majesty?

Macd. Approach the chamber, and destroy your fight
With a new Gorgon.-Do not bid me speak;
See, and then speak yourselves : awake! awake!

[Exeunt Macbeth and Lenox.
Ring the alarum-bell-murder! and treason !
Banquo, and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit,
And look on death itself-up, up, and see
The great doom's image-Malcolm! Banquo!
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprights,
(18) To countenance this horror..

Bell rings. Enter Lady Macbeth.
Lady. What's the bufiness,
That such an hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house speak.

Macd. Gentle Lady,
'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak.
The repetition in a woman's ear

(18) To countenance this borror. Ring the bell.] I have ventur’d to throw out these last words, as no part of the text. Macduff had said at the beginning of his speech, Ring out th’alarumbe!l; but if the bell had rung out immediately, not a word of what he says could have been distinguish’d. Ring the bell, I say, was a marginal direction in the Prompter's book for him to order the bell to be rung, the minute that Macduff ceases speaking.

In proof of this, we may observe; that the hemiftich ending Macduff 's speech, and that beginning Lady Macbeth's, make up a compleat verse. Now if Ring the bell had been a part of the text, can we imagine the poet would have begun the Lady's speech with a broken line?

Would

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