Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. Away, and mock the time with fairest show: False face must hide what the false heart doth know. SCENE I-The same. Court within the Castle. Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, and a Servant, with a torch before them. Banquo. HOW goes the night, boy? Fle. The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. Ban. And she goes down at twelve. Fle. I take't, 'tis later, sir. Ban. Hold, take my sword :-There's husbandry in heaven, 3 Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too. Macb. A friend. Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed : He hath been in unusual pleasure, and and quits the stage with an apparent resolution to murder his sovereign. But no sooner is the king under his roof, than, reflectine on the peculiarities of his own relative situation, he determines not to offend against the laws of hospitality or the ties of subjection kindred, and gratitude. His wife then assails his constancy afresh. He yields to her suggestions, and with his integrity his happiness is destroyed. I have enumerated these particulars, because the waverings of Macbeth have, by some critics been regarded as unnatural and contradictory circumstances in his character; not remembering that nemo repente fuit turpissimus, or that (as Angelo observes,) ་་ -when once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right we would, and we would not-" a passage which contains no unapt justification of the changes that happen in the conduct of Macbeth. STEEVENS. [3] Husbandry here means thrift, frugality. MAL. [4] It is apparent from what Banquo says afterwards, that he had been solicited in a dream to attempt something in consequence of the prophecy of the Witches, that his waking senses were shocked at; and Shakspeare has here most exquisitely contrasted his character with that of Macbeth. Banquo is praying against being tempted to encourage thoughts of guilt even in his sleep; while Macbeth is hurrying into temptation, and revolving in his mind every scheme, however flagitious, that may assist him to complete his purpose. The one is unwilling to sleep, lest the same phantoms should assail his resolution again, while the other is depriving himself of rest through impatience to commit the murder. STEEV. Sent forth great largess to your offices :5 By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up Macb. Being unprepar❜d, Our will became the servant to defect; Ban. All's well. I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: Macb. I think not of them : Yet, when we can intreat an hour to serve, Ban. At your kind'st leisure. Macb. If you shall cleave to my consent,-when 'tis, It shall make honour for you." Ban. So I lose none, In seeking to augment it, but still keep My bosom franchis'd, and allegiance clear, I shall be counsel'd. Macb. Good repose, the while! Ban. Thanks, sir; The like to you! [Exit BANQUO. Macb. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, She strike upon the bell. Get thee to-bed. [Exit Ser. Is this a dagger, which I see before me, The handle toward my hand thee: Come, let me clutch I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; [5] Offices are rooms appropriated to servants and culinary purposes. STEEV. [6] Macbeth expresses his thought with affected obscurity; he does not mention the royalty, though he apparently had it in his mind. If you shall cleave to my consent, if you shall concur with me when I determine to accept the crown, when 'tis, when that hoppens which the prediction promises, it shall make honour for you. JOHNS. That Banquo was apprehensive of a design upon the crown, is evident from his reply, which affords Macbeth so little encouragement, that he drops the subject. RITSON. Mine eyes are made the fools o'the other senses, 9 Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world, Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. [A Bell rings. STEEV. [7] Dudgeon-the haft or handle of a dagger. [8] Or drops, French. POPE-Gouts is the technical term for the spots on some part of the plumage of a hawk: or perhaps Shakspeare used the word in allusion to a phrase in heraldry. STEEV. [9] That is, over our hemisphere all action and motion seem to have ceased. This image, which is, perhaps, the most striking that poetry can produce, has been adopted by Dryden, in his Conquest of Mexico: All things are hush'd as Nature's self lay dead, And sleeping flow'rs beneath the night dews sweat, These lines, though so well known, I have transcribed, that the contrast between them and this passage of Shakspeare may be more accurately ob. served. Night is described by two great poets, but one describes a night of quiet, the other of perturbation. In the night of Dryden, ail the disturbers of the world are laid asleep; in that of Shakspeare, nothing but sorcery, lust, and murder, is awake. He that reads Dryden, finds himself lulled with serenity, and disposed to solitude and contemplation He that peruses Shakspeare, looks around alarmed, and starts to find himself alone. One is the night of a lover; the other of a murderer. JOHNS. [1] Probably Shakspeare wrote: The curtain'd sleeper. The folio spells the word sleepe. STEEV.--Mr. S's emendation is entitled to a place in the It is clearly Shakspeare's own word. RITSON. text. [2] Macbeth would have nothing break through the universal silence that added such a horror to the night, as suited well with the bloody deed he was about to perform. Mr. Burke, in his Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful, observes that all general privations are great, because they are all terrible;" and, with other things, he gives silence as an instance, illustrating the whole by that remarkable passage in Virgil, where amidst all the images of terror that could be united, the circumstance of silence is particularly dwelt upon : "Dii quibus imperium est animarum, umbræque silentes," Et Chaos et Phlegethon, loca nocte tacentia late." STEEV. Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven, or to hell. [Exit. Lady M. That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold : What hath quench'd them, hath given me fire:- -Hark! -Peace! It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it: The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg’d their possets, 3 That death and nature do contend about them, Macb. [Within.] Who's there?-what, ho! Enter MACBETH. Macb. I have done the deed :-Didst thou not hear a noise ? Lady M. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry. Did not you speak ? Macb. When? Lady M. Now. Macb. As I descended? Lady M. Ay. Macb. Hark-Who lies i'the second chamber? Macb. This is a sorry sight. [Looking on his hands. [3] It appears from this passage, as well as from many others in our old dramatic performances, that it was the custom to eat possets just before bedtime. Mrs. Quickly promises Jack Rugby a posset at night. STEEV. [4] This is very artful. For, as the poet has drawn the lady and her husband, it would be thought the act should have been done by her. It is likewise highly just; for though ambition had subdued in her all the sentiments of nature towards present objects, yet the likeness of one past, which she had been accustomed to regard with reverence, made her unnatural passions, for a moment give way to the sentiments of instinct and humanity. WARB. Macb. There's one did laugh in his sleep, and one cried, murder! That they did wake each other; Istood and heard them: But they did say their prayers, and address'd them Again to sleep. Lady M. 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 M. Consider it not so deeply. Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce, amen? I had most need of blessing, and amen Stuck in my throat. Lady M. These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad. Macb. Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep; Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,s The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast ; Lady M. What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house: Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more! Lady M. Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think Macb. I'll go no more :- I am afraid to think what I have done; Lady M. Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: The sleeping, and the dead, [5] Sleave signifies the ravelled knotty part of the silk, which gives great trouble and embarrassment to the knitter or weaver. HEATH. Drayton, a poet of Shakspeare's age, has likewise alluded to sleaved or rav. elled silk, in his Quest of Cynthia: "At length I on a fountain light, LANGTON. |