« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass, L. Macd. Wisdom ! to leave his wife, to leave Which shows me many more ; and some I see,
his babes, That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry:
His mansion, and his titles, in a place Horrible sight!-Ay, now, I see, 'tis true;
From whence himself doth fly? He loves us not; For the blood-bolter'a Banquo smiles upon ine, He wants the natural touch: for the poor WTED, And points at them for his.-What, is this so ? The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
1 Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so :-But why Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
All is the fear, and nothing is the love; Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprights, As little is the wisdom, where the flight And show the best of our delights:
So runs against all reason. I'll charm the air to give a sound,
Rosse. My dearest coz', While you perform your antique round: I pray you, school yourself: But, for your hus. That this great king may kindly say,
band, Our duties did his welcome pay.
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows [Music. The Witches dance, and vanish. The fits o'the season. I dare not speak much Macb. Where are they? Gone ?--Let this further : pernicious hour
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors, Stand aye accursed in the calendar
And do not know ourselves ; when we hold ruCome in, without there !
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear; Enter Lenox.
But float upon a wild and violent sea, Len. What's your grace's will ?
Each way, and move.—I take my leave of you : Macb. Saw you the weird sisters ?
Shall not be long but I'll be here again : Len. No, my lord.
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upMacb. Came they not by you ?
ward Len. No, indeed, my lord.
To what they were before.-My pretty cousin, Macb. Infected be the air, whereon they ride; Blessing upon you ! And damn'd all those, that trust them !-- I did L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherhear
less. The galloping of horse: Who was't came by? Rosse. I am so much a fool, should I stay Len. 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring longer,
It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort: Macduff is fled to England.
I take my leave at once.
[Erit Rosse. Macb. Fled to England ?
L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead; Len. Ay, my good lord.
And what will you do now? How will you live? Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread ex Son. As birds do, mother. ploits :
L. Macd. What, with worms and flies ? The flighty purpose never is o'ertook,
Son. With what I get, I mean ; and so do Unless the deed go with it: From this moment, they. The very firstlings of my heart shall be
L. Macd. Poor bird ! thou’dst never fear the The firstlings of my hand. And even now
net, nor lime, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought The pit-fall, nor the gin. and done:
Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they The castle of Macduff I will surprise ;
are not set for. Seize upon Fife ; give to the edge o'the sword My father is not dead, for all your saying. His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls, L. Macd. Yes, he is dead ; how wilt thou do That trace his line. No boasting like a fool;
for a father? This deed I'll do, before this purpose cool : Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? But no more sights !-Where are these gentle L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any men ?
market. Come, bring me where they are. [Ereunt. Son. Then you'll buy,'em to sell again.
L. Macd. Thou speak’st with all thy wit; and SCENE II.-Fife. A room in Macduffos castle.
With wit enough for thee. Enter Lady MacDUFF, her Son, and Rosse.
Son. Was my father a traitor, mother? L. Macd. What had he done, to make him L. Macd. Ay, that he was. fly the land ?
Son. What is a traitor ? Rosse. You must have patience, madam. L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies. L. Macd. He had none;
Son. And be all traitors that do so? His flight was madness: When our actions do not, L. Macd. Every one, that does so, is a traiOur fears do make us traitors.
tor, and must be hanged. Rosse. You know not,
Son. And must they all be hanged, that swest Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear.
L. Macd. Every one.
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds Son. Who must hang them ?
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell’d out L. Macd. Why, the honest men.
Like syllable of dolour. Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools : Mal. What I believe, I'll wail ; for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the What know, believe ; and, what I can redress, honest men, and hang up them.
As I shall find the time to friend, I will. L. Macd. Now God help thee, poor monkey! What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance. But how wilt thou do for a father?
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, Son. If he were dead, you'd weep for him : if Was once thought honest : you have lov’d him you would not, it were a good sign, that I should quickly have a new father.
He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but L. Macd. Poor prattler ! how thou talk'st.
You may deserve of him through me ; and wisEnter a Messenger.
To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb, Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you To appease an angry god. known,
Macd. I am not treacherous. Though in your state of honour I am perfect. Mal. But Macbeth is. I doubt, some danger does approach you nearly: A good and virtuous nature may recoil, If you will take a homely man's advice, In an imperial charge. But 'crave your pardon; Be not found here ; hence, with your little ones. That, which you are, my thoughts cannot transTo fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage ; pose : To do worse to you, were fell cruelty, Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell: Which is too nigh your person. Heaven pre- Though all things foul would wear the brows of serve you!
grace, I dare abide no longer. [Erit Messenger. Yet grace must still look so. L. Macd. Whither should I fly?
Macd. I have lost my hopes. I have done no harm. But I remember now Mal. Perchance, even there, where I did find I am in this earthly world; where, to do harm, Is often laudable; to do good, sometime, Why in that rawness left you wife, and child, Accounted dangerous folly : Why then, alas ! (Those precious motives, those strong knots of Do I put up that womanly defence,
love,) To say, I have done no harm ?-What are these Without leave-taking ?-I pray you, faces ?
Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,
But mine own safeties : —You may be rightly Enter Murderers.
Whatever I shall think. Mur, Where is your husband ?
Macd. Bleed, bleed, poor country ! L. Macd. I hope, in no place so unsanctified, Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, Where such as thou may’st find him.
For goodness dares not check thee! wear thou Mur. He's a traitor.
thy wrongs, Son. Thou ly'st, thou shag-ear'd villain. Thy title is affeer'd !-Fare thee well, lord :
Mur. What, you egg? [Stabbing him. I would not be the villain, that thou think’st, Young fry of treachery?
For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasr, Son. He has kill’d me, mother :
And the rich East to boot. Run away, I pray you.
[ Dies. Mal. Be not offended : [Erit Lady Macduff, crying murder, I speak not as in absolute fear of you. and pursued by the Murderers. I think, our country sinks beneath the yoke ;
It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash SCENE III.-England. A room in the King's Is added to her wounds : I think, withal, palace.
There would be hands uplifted in my right;
And here, from gracious England, have I offer Enter MALCOLM and Macduff. Of goodly thousands: But, for all this,
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, Mal. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country there
Shall have more vices than it had before ; Weep our sad bosoms empty.
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever, Macd. Let us rather
By him that shall succeed. Hold fast the mortal sword; and, like good men, Macd. What should he be ? Bestride our down-fall’n birthdom : Each new Mal. It is myself I mean : in whom I know morn,
All the particulars of vice so grafted, New widows howl; new orphans cry; new sor- That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state VOL. I.
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accurs’d,
And does blaspheme his breed?-Thy royal father Of horrid hell, can come a devil more damn'd Was a most sainted king; the queen, that bore In evils, to top Macbeth.
thee, Mal. I grant him bloody,
Oftner upon her knees than on her feet, Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
Died every day she liv'd. Fare thee well! Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
These evils, thou repeat’st upon thyself, That has a name : But there's no bottom, none, Have banish'd me from Scotland.-), my breast, In my voluptuousness : your wives, your daugh- Thy hope ends here ! ters,
Mal. Macduff, this noble passion, Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up Child of integrity, hath from my soul The cistern of my lust; and my desire Wip'd the black scruples, reconci”d my thoughts All continent impediments would o'erbear, To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth That did oppose my will : Better Macbeth, By many of these trains hath sought to win me Than such a one to reign.
Into his power; and modest wisdom plucks me Macd. Boundless intemperance
From over-credulous haste: But God above In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
Deal between thee and me! for even now The untimely emptying of the happy throne, I put myself to thy direction, and And fall of many kings. But fear not yet Unspeak mine own detraction; here abjure To take upon you what is yours : you may The taints and blames I laid upon myself, Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, For strangers to my nature. I am yet And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood- Unknown to woman ; never was forsworn; wink.
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own; We have willing dames enough; there cannot be At no time broke my faith ; would not betray That vulture in you, to devour so many
The devil to his fellow; and delight As will to greatness dedicate themselves, No less in truth, than life: my first false speaking Finding it so inclin’d.
Was this upon myself: What I am truly, Mal. With this, there grows,
Is thine, and my poor country's, to command: In my most ill-compos’d affection, such Whither, indeed, before thy here-approach, A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men, I should cut off the nobles for their lands; All ready at a point, was setting forth: Desire his jewels, and this other's house : Now we'll together: And the chance, of goodness, And my more-having would be as a sauce Be like our warranted quarrel ! Why are you To make me hunger more ; that I should forge silent? Quarrels unjust against the good, and loyal, *Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things Destroying thein for wealth.
at once, Macd. This avarice
'Tis hard to reconcile. Sticks deeper; grows with more pernicious root Than summer-seeding lust: and it hath been
Enter a Doctor. The sword of our slain kings : Yet do not fear; Mal. Well; more anon.—Comes the king Scotland hath foysons to fill up your will,
forth, I pray you? Of
your mere own: All these are portable, Doct. Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched With other graces weigh’d.
souls, Mal. But I have none : The king-becoming That stay his cure: their malady convinces graces,
The great assay of art ; but, at his touch, As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, Such sanctity hath Heaven given his hand, Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness, They presently amend. Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
Mal. I thank you, doctor. [Erit Doctor. I have no relish of them; but abound
Macd. What's the disease he means? In the division of each several crime,
Mal. 'Tis call’d the evil: Acting it many ways. Nay, had í power, 1 A most miraculous work in this good king; should
Which often, since my here-remain in England, Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell, I have seen him do. 'How he solicits Heaven, Uproar the universal peace, confound
Himself best knows: but strangely-visited people, All unity on earth.
All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, Macd. O Scotland! Scotland !
The mere despair of surgery, he cures; Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: Hanging a golden stamp about their necks, I am as I have spoken.
Put on with holy prayers : and 'tis spoken, Macd. Fit to govern !
To the succeeding royalty he leaves No, not to live. -0 nation miserable,
The healing benediction. With this strange With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
virtue, When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again? He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
And sundry blessings hang about his throne, Macd. 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 Macd. See, who comes here?
part Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him Pertains to you alone. not.
Macd. If it be mine, Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
Mal. I know him now: Good God, betimes Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue The means that make us strangers !
Which shall possess them with the heaviest Rosse. Sir, Amen.
sound, Macd. Stands Scotland where it did ? That ever yet they heard. Rosse. Alas, poor country;
Macd. Humph! I guess at it. Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Rosse. Your castle is surpriz’d; your wife, Be call'd our mother, but our grave: where no and babes, thing,
Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner, But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile; Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer, Where sighs, and groans, and shrieks, that rent To add the death of you. the air,
Mal. Merciful Heaven ! Are made, not mark'd ; where violent sorrow What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give sorrow words : the grief, that does not A modern ecstacy; the dead man's knell
speak, Is there scarce ask'd, for who; and good men's Whispers the o’er-fraught heart, and bids it lives
break. Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Macd. My children too? Dying, or ere they sicken.
Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all Macd. 0, relation,
That could be found. Too nice, and yet too true!
Macd. And I must be from thence ! Mal. What is the newest grief?
My wife killd too? Rosse. That of an hour's age doth hiss the Rosse. I have said. speaker;
Mal. Be comforted : Each minute teems a new one.
Let's make us med’cines of our great revenge, Macd. How does my wife?
To cure this deadly grief. Rosse. Why, well.
Macd. He has no children.-All my pretty Macd. And all my children ?
ones? Rosse. Well too.
Did you say, all ?-0, hell-kite !-All ? Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam, peace?
At one fell swoop ?
Macd. I shall do so;
I cannot but remember such things were,
tidings, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour And would not take their part ? Sinful Macduff, of many worthy fellows, that were out; They were all struck for thee ! naught that I am, Which was to my belief witness’d the rather, Not for their own demerits, but for mine, For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot : Fell slaughter on their souls : Heaven rest them Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword: To doff their dire distresses.
let grief Mal. Be it their comfort,
Convert to anger ; blunt not the heart, enrage it We are coming thither: gracious England hath Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine Lent us good Siward, and ten thousand men ; An older, and a better soldier, none
eyes, And braggart with my tongue ! But, gentle
Heaven, Rosse. 'Would I could answer
Cut short all intermission : front to front, This comfort with the like! But I have words, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself ; That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape, Where hearing should not latch them.
Heaven forgive him too!
That Christendom gives out.
Mal. This tune goes manly.
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer
you may; The night is long, that never finds the day.
Doct. Do you mark that? SCENE I.-Dunsinane. A room in the castle. Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife;
Where is she now ?-What, will these hands Enter a Doctor of Physick, and a waiting Gen- ne'er be clean ?-No more oʻthat, my lord, no tlewoman.
more o'that: you mar all with this starting. Doct. I have two nights watched with you, Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what but can perceive no truth in your report. When you should not. was it she last walked ?
Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has have seen her rise from her bed, throw her night- known. gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still: paper, fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this seal it, and again return to bed ; yet all this little hand. Oh! oh! oh! while in a most fast sleep.
Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is Doct. A great perturbation in nature ! to re- sorely charged. ceive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the ef Gent. I would not have such a heart in my fects of watching.-In this slumbry agitation, bosom, for the dignity of the whole body. besides her walking, and other actual perform Doct. Well, well, well,ances, what, at any time, have you heard her Gent. 'Pray God, it be, sir.
Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: Yet Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after I have known those, which have walked in their her.
sleep, who have died holily in their beds. Doct. You may, to me: and 'tis most meet Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your you should.
night-gown; look not so pale :- I tell you yet Gent. Neither to you, nor any one ; having again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of no witness to confirm my speech.
Doct. Even so ? Enter Lady MACBETH, with a taper. Lady M. To bed, to bed ; there's knocking Lo you, here she comes ! This is her very guise; at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; your hand ; What's done, cannot be undone : stand close.
To bed, to bed, to bed. [Erit Lady Macbeth. Doct. How came she by that light?
Doct. Will she go now to bed ? Gent. Why, it stood by her : she has light by Gent. Directly hier continually ; 'tis her command.
Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad : UnnaDoct. You see, her eyes are open.
tural deeds Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.
Do breed unnatural troubles : Infected minds Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. she rubs her hands.
More needs she the divine, than the physician.Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to God, God, forgive us all! Look after her; seem thus washing her hands; I have known Remove from her the means of all annoyance, her continue in this a quarter of an hour. And still keep eyes upon her:~So, good night: Lady M. Yet here's a spot.
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight: Doct. Hark, she speaks : I will set down what I think, but dare not speak. comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the Gent. Good night, good doctor. [Erennt. more strongly. Lady M. Out, damned spot ! out, I say
SCENE II.—The country near Dunsinane. One ; Two; Why, then 'tis time to do't:- Hell is murky !_Fye, my lord, fye! a soldier, and Enter, with drum and colours, MENTETH, Cathafeard ? What need we fear who knows it, when
NESS, Angus, Lenox, and Soldiers. none can call our power to account?—Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so Ment. The English power is near, led on by much blood in him?