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Curbing his lavish spirit. To conclude,
The victory fell on us.

King. Great happiness!

Roffe. Now Sweno, Norway's King, craves composition:

Nor would we deign him burial of his men, 'Till he disbursed, at Saint Colmes-kill-ifle

Ten thousand dollars, to our gen'ral use.

King. No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive

Our bosom int'rest. Go, pronounce his death;

And with his former title greet Macbeth.

Roffe. I'll fee it done.

King. What he hath loft, noble Macbeth hath won.

SCENE changes to the Heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

Witch.

W

Here haft thou been, fister?
2 Witch. Killing swine.

3 Witch. Sifter, where thou ?

[Exeunt.

I Witch. A failor's wife had chesnuts in her lap,

And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht. Give me,

quoth I.

Aroint thee, witch!--the rump-fed ronyon cries.

Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o'th' Tyger:

But in a fieve I'll thither fail,

And like a rat without a tail,

I'll do I'll do and I'll do.

2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.

1 Witch. Thou art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

1 Witch. I myself have all the other,

And the very points they blow;
All the quarters that they know,
I' th' ship-man's card.-
I will drain him dry as hay;
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
VOL. VI.

N

He

He shall live a man forbid; (6)
Weary fev'nights, nine times nine,
Shall he dwindle, peak and pine:
Though his bark cannot be loft,
Yet it fhall be tempest-toft.
Look, what I have.

2 Witch. Shew me, fhew me.

1 Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, Wrackt as homeward he did come.

3 Witch. A drum, a drum!

Macbeth doth come!

[Drum within.

All. The Weird fifters, hand in hand, (7)

Pofters

(6) He fhall live a man forbid :] i.e. as under a curse, an Interdiction. So afterwards, in this play;

By his own interdiction ftands accurs'd.

So, among the Romans, an outlaw's fentence was aquæ & ignis interdictio. i. e. He was forbid the use of water and fire: which imply'd the neceffity of banishment.

(7) The weyward fifters, hand in hand,] The Witches are here fpeaking of themfelves; and it is worth an enquiry why they should ftile themselves the weyward, or wayward fifters. This word in its general acceptation fignifies, perverfe, froward, moody, obftinate, untractable, &c, and is every where fo ufed by our Shakespeare. To content ourfelves with two or three inftances;

Fy, fy, how wayward is this foolish love,
That, like a tefty baby, &c.

Two Gent. of Verona.
This wimpled, whining, purblind, wayward boy.

And, which is worst. All you have done
Is but for a wayward fon.

Love's Labour left.

Macbeth.

It is improbable, the Witches would adopt this epithet to themselves, in any of thefe fenfes; and therefore we are to look a little further for the poet's word and meaning. When I had the first suspicion of our author being corrupt in this place, it brought to my mind the following paffage in CHAUCER's Troilus and Cresseide, lib. iii. v. 618. But O fortune, executrice of wierdes.

I was

Which word the gloffaries expound to us by fates or deftinies. foon confirm'd in my fufpicion, upon happening to dip into Heylin's Cofmography, where he makes a fhort recital of the story of Macbeth and Banquo.

These two (fays be) travelling together thro' a forest, were met by three Faries, Witches, Wierds, the Scots call them, &c.

I prefently recollected, that this story must be recorded at more length by Holingfhead; with whom I thought it was very probable

that

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Pofters of the fea and land,

Thus do go about, about,

Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again to make up nine.
Peace!-the charm's wound up.

Enter Macbeth and Banquo, with Soldiers and other
Attendants.

Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. Ban. How far is't call'd to Foris ?-what are these, So wither'd, and fo wild in their attire,

That look not like th' inhabitants o' th' earth,

And yet are on't? Live you, or are you aught

That man may queftion? You feem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying

Upon her skinny lips;-You fhould be women;
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret,
That
you are fo.

Macb. Speak, if you can; what are you?

Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Glamis! 2Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor! 3 Witch. All-hail, Macbeth! that shalt be King hereafter. Ban. Good Sir, why do you ftart, and feem to fear Things that do found fo fair? I' th' name of truth, Are fantastical, or that indeed [To the Witches.

ye

that our author had traded for the materials of his tragedy: and therefore confirmation was to be fetch'd from this fountain. Accordingly, looking into his hiftory of Scotland, I found the writer very prolix and exprefs, from Hector Boethius, in this remarkable ftory; and in p. 170. fpeaking of these Witches, he ufes this expreffion.

But afterwards the common opinion was, that these women were either the weird fifters, that is, as ye would fay, the godd:ffes of deftiny, &c. Again, a little lower;

The words of the three weird fifters alfo, (of whom before ye have heard) greatly encouraged him thereunto.

And, in feveral other paragraphs there, this word is repeated. I believe, by this time, it is plain beyond a doubt, that the word wayward has obtain'd in Macbeth, where the Witches are spoken of, from the ignorance of the copyifts, who were not acquainted with the Scotch term and that in every paffage, where there is any relation to these Witches or Wizards, my emendation must be embraced, and we must read weird,

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Which outwardly ye shew? my noble partner
You greet with prefent grace, and great prediction
Of noble having, and of royal hope,

That he feems rapt withal; to me you speak not.
If you can look into the feeds of time,

And fay, which grain will grow and which will not;
Speak then to me, who neither beg, nor fear,
Your favours, nor your hate.

I Witch. Hail!

2 Witch. Hail! 3 Witch. Hail!

1 Witch. Leffer than Macbeth, and greater. 2 Witch. Not fo happy, yet much happier.

3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none; So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!

1 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all-hail!

Mach. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more ;
By Sinel's death, I know, I'm Thane of Glamis';
But how, of Cawdor ? the Thane of Cawdor lives,
A profp'rous gentleman; and, to be King,
Stands not within the profpect of belief,

No more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence
You owe this ftrange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted heath you ftop our way,

With fuch prophetick greeting ?-fpeak, I charge you.
[Witches vanish.
Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has
And these are of them; whither are they vanish'd ♪
Macb. Into the air: and what feem'd corporal
Melted, as breath, into the wind,-

Would they had staid!

Ban. Were fuch things here, as we do fpeak about? (8)

(8) Were fuch things here, as we do speak about? Or have we eaten of the infane root,

Or

That takes the reafon prifoner ?] The infane root, viz. the root which makes infane; as in HORACE Pallida Mors; nempè, quæ facit pallidos. This fentence, I conceive, is not fo well understood, as I would have every part of Shakespeare be, by his audience and readers. So foon as the Witches vanish from the fight of Macbeth and Banquo, and leave them in doubt whether they had really fecn fuch Appari

Or have we eaten of the infane root,
That takes the reason prifoner ?

Mach. Your children shall be Kings.

Ban. You shall be King.

Macb. And Thane of Cawdor too; went it not fo? Ban. To th' self fame tune, and words; who's here?

Enter Rofle and Angus.

Roffe. The King hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth,
The news of thy fuccess; and when he reads
Thy perfonal venture in the rebels fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend,
Which should be thine, or his. Silenc'd with that,
In viewing o'er the rest o'th' self-fame day,
He finds thee in the ftout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afraid of what thyself didit make,
Strange images of death. As thick as hail,
Came poft on poft, and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence:

tions, or whether their eyes were not deceiv'd by some illufion; Banquo immediately starts the question,

Were fuch things bere, &c.

I was fure, from a long observation of Shakespeare's accuracy, that he alluded here to some particular circumstance in the history, which, I hoped, I should find explain'd in Holingshead. But I found myfelf deceived in this expectation. This furnishes a proper occafion, therefore, to remark our author's fignal diligence; and happiness at applying whatever he met with, that could have any relation to his subject. Hector Boethius, who gives us an account of Sueno's army being intoxicated by a preparation put upon them by their fubtle enemy, informs us; that there is a plant, which grows in great quantity in Scotland, call'd Solatrum Amentiale; that its berries are purple, or rather black, when full ripe; and have a quality of laying to Heep; or of driving into madness, if a more than ordinary quantity of them be taken. This passage of Boethius, I dare say, our poet had an eye to: and, I think, it fairly accounts for his mention of the infane root. Diofcorides lib. iv. c. 74. Περὶ Στρύχνε μανικό, attributes the fame properties to it. Its claffical name, I observe, is Solanum ; but the shopmen agree to call it Solatrum. This, prepar'd in medicine, (as Theophraftus tells us, and Pliny from him ;) has a peculiar effect of filling the patient's head with odd images and fancies: and particularly that of seeing spirits: an effect, which, I am perfuaded, was no fecret to our author. Bochart and Salmafius have both been copious upon the description and qualities of this plant.

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