SCENE III. England. A Room in the King's Palace. Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF. Mal. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there Weep our sad bosoms empty. Macd. Let us rather Hold fast the mortal sword; and, like good men, Mal. What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance. You may deserve of him through me; and wisdom 3 1 Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: ] The allusion is to a man from whom something valuable is about to be taken by violence, and who, that he may defend it without incumbrance, lays it on the ground, and stands over it with his weapon in his hand. Our birthdom, or birthright, says he, lies on the ground; let us, like men who are to fight for what is dearest to them, not abandon it, but stand over it and defend it. This is a strong picture of obstinate resolution. -to friend,] i. e. to befriend. 2 3 and wisdom-] That is, and 'tis wisdom. Mal. But Macbeth is. A good and virtuous nature may recoil, 4 In an imperial charge. But crave your pardon; † That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose: Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell: Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet grace must still look so. Macd. I have lost my hopes. Mal. Perchance, even there, where I did find my doubts. Why in that rawness 6 left you wife, and child, Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, For goodness dares not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs, Thy title is affeer'd7-! Fare thee well, lord: I would not be the villain that thou think'st For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, Mal. Be not offended: I speak not as in absolute fear of you. 4 A good and virtuous nature may recoil, In an imperial charge.] A good mind may recede from goodness in the execution of a royal commission. Johnson. †“But I shall crave your pardon;” — Malone. 5 Though all things foul, &c.] This is not very clear. The meaning, perhaps, is this: My suspicions cannot injure you, if you be virtuous, by supposing that a traitor may put on your virtuous appearance. I do not say that your virtuous appearance proves you a traitor; for virtue must wear its proper form, though that form be counterfeited by villainy. JOHNSON. 6 Why in that rawness-] Without previous provision, without due preparation, without maturity of counsel. 7 Thy title is affeer'd !] Affecr'd, a law term for confirm❜d. I think, our country sinks beneath the yoke; Macd. What should he be? Mal. It is myself I mean: in whom I know That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth With my confineless harms. Macd. Not in the legions Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn'd In evils, to top Macbeth. Mal. I grant him bloody, Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin That has a name: But there's no bottom, none, All continent impediments would o'er-bear, Macd. Boundless intemperance In nature is a tyranny; it hath been We have willing dames enough; there cannot be Mal. With this, there grows, Macd. This avarice Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Mal. But I have none: The king-becoming graces, Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should Uproar the universal peace, confound 8 grows with more pernicious root Than summer-seeding lust;] The allusion is to plants; and the sense is," Avarice is a perennial weed: it has a deeper and more pernicious root than lust, which is a mere annual, and lasts but for a summer, when it sheds its seed and decays." BLACKSTONE. But Mr. Malone reads, "summer-seeming." 9 All these are portable.] Portable, i. e. bearable. Macd. O Scotland! Scotland! Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak : I am as I have spoken. Macd. 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? 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, Oftner upon her knees that on her feet, Died every day she lived. Fare thee well! These evils, thou repeat'st upon thyself, Have banished me from Scotland. O, 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 No less in truth, than life: my first false speaking › From over-credulous haste :] From over-hasty credulity. |