Imatges de pÓgina

And all to all*.

Lords. Our duties, and the pledge.
Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight! Let the earth

hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with!
Lady M.

Think of this, good peers,
But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

Macb. What man dare, I dare:
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger,
Take any shape but that, and my

firm nerves
Shall never tremble: Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!

[Ghost disappears.
Unreal mockery, hence !-- Why, so; being gone,
I am a man again.—Pray you, sit still.
Lady M. You have displac'd the mirth, broke

the good meeting, With most admir'd disorder. Macb.

Can such things be, And overcomet us like a summer's cloud, Without our special wonder? You make me strange Even to the disposition that I oweg, When now I think you can behold such sights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, When ‘mine are blanch'd with fear. Rosse.

What sights, my lord? *i. e. All good wishes to all.

+ Forbid. #Pass over.

§ Possess.

Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse

and worse;
Question enrages him: at once, good night:
Stand not upon the order of your going,
But go at once.

Good night, and better health
Attend his majesty!
Lady M.

A kind good night to all!

[Exeunt Lords and Attendants. Macb. It will have blood; they say, blood will

have blood: Stones have been known to move, and trees to Augurs, and understood relations, have [speak; By magot-pies*, and choughs, and rooks, brought

forth The secret'st man of blood.


THE POWER OF WITCHES. I conjure you, by that which you profess, (Howe'er you come to know it,) answer me: Though you untie the winds, and let them fight Against the churches; though the yestyt waves Confound and swallow navigation up; Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown

down; Though castles topples on their warder's heads; Though palaces, and pyramids, do slope Their heads to their foundation; though the treasure Of nature's germins|| tumble all together, Even till destruction sicken, answer me To what I ask you.

* Magpies. + Frothy. #Laid flat by wind or rain. & Tumble. || Seeds which have begun to sprout.

Mal. But I have none: The king-becoming
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, (graces,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them; but abound
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.

O Scotland! Scotland!
Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
I am as I have spoken.

Fit to govern!
No, not to live.–O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant, bloody-scepter'd,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again?
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accurs’d,
And does blaspheme his breed?-Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king; the queen, that bore thee,


her knees than on her feet, Died every day she liv’d. Fare thee well! These evils, thou repeat'st upon thyself, Have banish'd me from Scotland.-0, my breast, Thy hope ends here! Mal.

Macduff, this noble passion, Child of integrity, hath from my soul Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth By many of these trains hath sought to win me Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me

From over-credulous haste*: But God above
Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction: here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature. I am yet
Unknown to woman; never was forsworn;
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own:
At no time broke my faith; would not betray
The devil to his fellow; and delight
No less in truth, than life: my first false speaking
Was this upon myself: What I am truly,
Is thine, and my poor country's, to command.

Alas, poor country;
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Be call’d our mother, but our grave; where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks that rent the

air, Are made, not mark’d: where violent sorrow seems A modern ecstasyt: the dead man's knell Is there scarce ask'd, for who; and good men's lives Expire before the flowers in their caps, Dying, or ere they sicken.



'Would I could answer This comfort with the like! But I have words That would be howl'd out in the desert air, Where hearing should not latch them. * Over-hasty credulity. + Common distress of mind.



What concern they? The general cause? or is it a fee-grief *, Due to some single breast? Rosse.

No mind, that's honest,
But in it shares some woe; though the main part
Pertains to you alone.

If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue

for ever,

Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound,
That ever yet they heard.

Humph! I guess at it. Rosse. Your castle is surpris’d; your wife, and

Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner,
Were, on the quarryt of these murder'd deer,
To add the death of you.

Merciful heaven!
What, man! ne'er pull your


upon your brows; Give sorrow words: the grief, that does not speak, Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.

Macd. My children too?

Wife, children, servants, all That could be found.

Macd. And I must be from thence!
My wife kill'd too?

I have said.

Be comforted: Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief.

Macd. He has no children.—All my pretty ones? Did you say, all?-0, hell-kite!

-All? What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam, * A grief that has a single owner. The game after it is killed


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