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Hear not my fteps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very
ftones prate of my whereabout;
And take the prefent horror from the time,
Which now fuits with it—whilst I threat, he lives-

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell
That fummons thee to heaven, or to hell.

Enter Lady.

[A bell rings.

[Exit.

Lady. That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold:

What hath quench'd them, hath giv'n me fire. Hark! peace!

It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bell-man,

Which gives the ftern'it good-night--he is about it— The doors are open; and the furfeited grooms

Do mock their charge with fnores. I've drugg'd their poflets,

That death and nature do contend about them,
Whether they live or die.

Enter Macbeth.

Macb. Who's there? what, ho?

Lady. Alack! I am afraid, they have awak'd; And 'tis not done; th' attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us-hark!-I laid their daggers ready, He could not mifs 'em-Had he not refembled My father as he flept, I had done'tdone'tMy husband! Mach. I've done the deed---didft thou not hear a noife?

Lady.

fo well fuits with it." For what could be more dreadful to fuch a mind as Macbeth's, than fo univerfal a filence, when all nature deeply hush'd, must seem, to his guilty mind, as liftening to his purpofe, and attending to the act he was about to per form?

Lady. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry.

Did not you fpeak?

Mach. When?

Lady. Now.

Mach. As I defcended?

Lady. Ay.

Mach. Hark! who lies i'th' fecond chamber?
Lady. Donalbain.

Mach. This is a forry fight [Looks on his hands.
Lady. A foolish thought, to fay, a forry fight.

Marb. There's one did laugh in's fleep, and one cry'd murder!

They wak'd each other; and I ftood and heard them; But they did fay their prayers, and addrefs them Again to fleep.

Lady. There are two lodg'd together.

Mach. One cry'd, God bless us; and Amen, the other;

As they had feen me with these hangman's hands.
Liftening their fear, I could not fay, Amen,
When they did fay, God blefs us!

Lady. Confider it not fo deeply.

Mach. But wherefore could not I pronounce Amen? I had most need of bleffing, and Amen

Stuck in my throat.

Lady. Thefe deeds muft not be thought, After thele ways; fo, it will make us mad.

Macb. Methought, I heard a voice cry, fleep no more!

Macbeth doth murder fleep; the innocent fleep;
Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd fleeve of care,
(11) The death of each day's life, fore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's fecond course,
Chief nourisher in life's feaft.-

Lady.

(11) The death, &c.] Shakespear frequently fpeaks of fleep as the image of death; at the end of the 4th Scene in this Act, Macduff calls it death's counterfeit: fleep that knits up the ravell'd fleeve of care-alludes to fleav'd filk ravell’g.

Lady. What do you mean?

Mach. Still it cry'd, fleep no more! to all the house; Glamis hath murder'd fleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall fleep no more; Macbeth fhill fleep no more! Lady. Who was it that thus cry'd? why (12) 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 thefe daggers from the place?
They must lie there. Go, carry them, and smear
The fleepy grooms with blood.

Mach. 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 fleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures; 'tis the eye of childhood,
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal,

For it must feem their guilt.

Knocks within.

Mach. Whence is that knocking?

[Exiti

[Starting.

How is't with me, when every noise appals me?

(13) What hands are here? hah! they pluck out mine

eyes;

Will

(12) Why, &c.] Should not this be read,

Why, worthy Thane,

Do you unbend your noble ftrength?

The interrogation feems not only neceffary, but beautiful.

(13) What, &c.] Shakespear had this from his brother tragedians. So Hercules in Seneca,

Ar&torum licet

Moeotis in me

gelida transfundat mare

E

Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? no, this my hand will rather Thy multitudinous fea 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 fouth entry. Retire we to our chamber;
A little water clears us of this deed.
How eafy is it then? your conftancy

Hath left you unattended--hark, more knocking! [Knock.
Get on your night-gown left occafion calls us,
And fhew us to be watchers; be not loft

So poorly in your thoughts.

Macb. To know my deed, 'twere best not know myfelf.

Wake, Duncan, with this knocking! 'would thou couldft!

ACT

Et tota Tethys per meas currat manus,
Hærebit altum facinus.

Hercul. Fur. Ac. 5.

'Tis faid of Oedipus, in Sophocles, that neither the waters of the Danube or Phafis can wath him and his house clean,

Οίμαι γαρ ετανίστον έτε φασιν αν
Νίψαι καθαρμω τηνδε την στεγην.

In allufion to their expiatory washings in the fea or rivers. Various were the ceremonies of washing among the Jews as well as Gentiles; particularly that of the hands. Hence came the proverb of doing things with unwash'd hands; i. e. impudently without any regard to decency and religion. Henry IV. A&t. 3. Fal. Rob me the Exchequer the first thing thou doft, and do it with unwashed bands too. UPTON.

ACT III. SCENE III.

Macbeth's guilty Confcience, and Fears of Banquo. Enter Macbeth to his Lady,

Lady. How now, my lord, why do you keep alone? Of forrielt fancies your companions making, Ufing thofe thoughts, which fhould indeed, have died With them they think on? things without all remedy Should be without regard; what's done, is done.

Macb. We have fcotch'd (14) the snake, not kill'd it. She'll clofe and be herfelf; whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth.

But let both worlds disjoint, and all things fuffer,
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and fleep
In the affliction of thefe terrible dreams

That fhal e us nightly. Better be with the dead,
(Whom we, to gain our place, have fent to peace,)

Than on the torture of the mind to lie

In reftlefs ecftacy.-Duncan is in his grave:
After life's fitful fever, he fleeps well;

Treafon has done his worft; nor fteel, nor poifon,
Malice domeftic, foreign levy, nothing
Can touch him farther!

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(14) Scotch'd.] This reading is Mr. Theobald's, the old one is forch'd, which Mr. Upton wou'd attempt to defend by telling us, "the allufion is to the ftory of the Hydra. We have scorch'd the fnake, we have indeed, Hercules like, cut off one of its heads, and forch'd it, as it were, as he did, affifted by Folaus, hindering that one head, thus fcorch'd, from fprouting again; but fuch a wound will clofe and cure; our hydra-fake has other heads ftill, which to me are as dangerous as Duncan's, particularly that of Banquo and Ficance," &c. The allufion is learned and elegant, Crit. Obfervat. p. 154. But learned and elegant as it is, I am apt to imagine Mr. Theobald's the true word: the fentence feems to confirm that fuppofition; however, Mr. Upton's remark is worth obferving.

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