Shall be a fume, and the receipts of reason
A limbeck only: When in swinish sleep
Their drenched natures lie, as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His spongy officers; who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?'

Macb.

Bring forth men-children only!

For thy undaunted mettle should compose
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv'd,

When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two
Of his own chamber, and us'd their very daggers,
That they have don't?

Lady M.

Who dares receive it other,

As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
Upon his death?

Macb.

I am settled, and bend up

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.

receipt-] i. e. Receptacle.

[Exeunt.

h A limbeck only:] The limbeck is the vessel through which distilled liquors pass into the recipient. So shall it be with memory; through which every thing shall pass and nothing remain.-A corruption of the word alembec.

i quell?] i. e. Murder, manquellers being, in the old language, the term for which murderers is now used.-JOHNSON.

k Till this instant the mind of Macbeth has been in a state of uncertainty and fluctuation. He has hitherto proved neither resolutety good, nor obstinately wicked. Though a bloody idea had arisen in his mind, after he had heard the prophecy in his favour, yet he contentedly leaves the completion of his hopes to chance. At the conclusion, however, of his interview with Duncan, he inclines to hasten the decree of fate, and quits the stage with an apparent resolution to murder his sovereign. But no sooner is the king under his roof, than, reflecting 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 criticks, 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.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-The same. Court within the Castle.

Enter BANQUO and FLEANCE, and a Servant with a torch before them.

Ban. 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 tak't, 'tis later, sir.

Ban. Hold, take my sword:-There's husbandry in

heaven,m

Their candles are all out.-Take thee that too.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep: Merciful powers!
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts, that nature
Gives way to in repose !"-Give me my sword:-
Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch.

Who's there?

Macb. A friend.

Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed :

He hath been in unusual pleasure, and

Sent forth great largess to your officers:

This diamond he greets your wife withal,

By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up
In measureless content.

1 Scene I.] The place is not marked in the old edition, nor is it easy to say where this encounter can be. It is not in the hall, as the editors have all supposed it, for Banquo sees the sky; it is not far from the bedchamber, as the conversation shows: it must be in the inner court of the castle, which Banquo might properly cross in his way to bed.-JOHNSON.

-husbandry-] i. e. Thrift, frugality.

Merciful powers! &c.] 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.—STEEVENS.

shut up-] i. e. Enclosed in.

Macb.

Being unprepar'd,

Our will became the servant to defect;
Which else should free have wrought."

Ban.

All's well.

I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters :
To you they have show'd some truth.

Macb.

I think not of them :

Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
Would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.

Ban.
At your kind'st leisure.
Macb. If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,"
It shall make honour for you.

So I lose none,

Ban.
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 Servant.

Is this a dagger, which I see before me,

The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch

thee:

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible

To feeling, as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind; a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable

As this which now I draw:

Thou marshal'st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o'the other senses,

P -free have wrought.] i. e. Free for freely,-Macbeth's will would have wrought more liberally for the entertainment of the king if he had had time for preparation. As it was, his will to please was constrained to tolerate imperfections, or was servant to defect.

If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,] i. e. If you will agree to my counsels when we confer upon the business, it shall make honour for you, consent is used in the sense of will.

Or else worth all the rest: I see thee still;

And on thy blade, and dudgeon, gouts of blood,"
Which was not so before.-There's no such thing:
It is the bloody business, which informs

Thus to mine eyes.-Now o'er the one half world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; now witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings; and wither'd murder,
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost.- -Thou sure and firm-set earth,
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my where-about,
And take the present horrort from the time,

Which now suits with it.-Whiles I threat, he lives;
Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives."

I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.

[A bell rings.

And on thy blade, and dudgeon, gouts of blood,] Though dudgeon sometimes signifies a dagger, it more properly means the haft, or handle of a dagger, and is used for that particular sort of handle which has some ornament carved on the top of it. Gouts is the technical term for the spots on the plumate of a hawk.-STEEvens.

Now o'er the one half world

Nature seems dead,] 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,

The mountains seem to nod their drowsy head;
The little birds in dreams their songs repeat,

And sleeping flow'rs beneath the night-dews sweat.
Even lust and envy sleep!"

These lines, though so well known, I have transcribed, that the contrast between them and this passage of Shakspeare may be more accurately observed. Night is described by two great poets, but one describes a night of quiet, the other of perturbation. In the night of Dryden, all 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 round alarmed, and starts to find himself alone. One is the night of a lover; the other, of a murderer.-JOHNSON.

present horror-] i. e. Silence, than which nothing can be more horrid to the perpetrator of an atrocious design.-WARBurton.

u

Whiles I threat, he lives;

Nor

Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives.] Here is evidently a false concord; but it must not be corrected, for it is necessary to the rhyme. is this the only place in which Shakspeare has sacrificed grammar to rhyme.M. MASON.

Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell

That summons thee to heaven, or to hell.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

The same.

Enter Lady MACBETH.

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,

That death and nature do contend about them,

Whether they live, or die.

Macb. [within.] Who's there?-what, ho?

Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have awak'd, And 'tis not done :-the attempt, and not the deed, Confounds us :-Hark !-I laid their daggers ready, He could not miss them.-Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done't.

My husband?

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?

My father as he slept, I had done't.] 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.-WARBURTON.