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'Tis given with welcome: To feed, were best at home; From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony; Meeting were bare without it.

Macb. Sweet remembrancer!

Now, good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!

Len. May it please your highness sit?

[The Ghost of BANQUO rises, and sits in

MACBETH's place.

Macb. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present; Whom may I rather challenge for unkindness, Than pity for mischance!

Rosse. His absence, sir,

Lays blame upon his promise. Please it your highness

To grace us with your royal company?

Macb. The table's full.

Len. Here's a place reserv'd, sir.

Macb. Where?

Len. Here, my lord. What is't that moves your highness? . Macb. Which of you have done this?

Lords. What, my good lord?

Macb. Thou can'st not say, I did it never shake Thy gory locks at me.

Rosse. Gentlemen, rise; his highness is not well.

Lady M. Sit, worthy friends :-my lord is often thus, And hath been from his youth. 'pray you, keep seat; The fit is momentary; upon a thought

He will again be well: If much you note him,

You shall offend him, and extend his passion;

Feed, and regard him not.

-Are you a man?

Macb. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil.

Lady M. O proper stuff!

This is the very painting of your fear:

This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said,

Led you to Duncan.

O, these flaws, and starts,

(Impostors to true fear,) would well become

A woman's story, at a winter's fire,

Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself!

Why do you make such faces? When all's done,

You look but on a stool.

Macb. Pr'ythee, see there! behold! look! lo! how say you?

Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.
If charnel-houses, and our graves, must send
Those that we bury, back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.

[Ghost disappears.

Lady M. What! quite unmann'd in folly?
Macb. If I stand here, I saw him.

Lady M. Fye, for shame!

Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i' th' olden time, Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal ;

Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd

Too terrible for the ear: the times have been,

That, when the brains were out, the man would die,
And there an end: but now, they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: This is more strange
Than such a murder is.

Lady M. My worthy lord,

Your noble friends do lack you.

Macb. I do forget:

Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;

I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing

To those that know me. Come, love and health to all;
Then I'll sit down :-Give me some wine, fill full :-
I drink to th' general joy of the whole table.

Ghost rises.

And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss ;
Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst,"
And all to all.

Lords. Our duties, and the pledge.
Macb. Avaunt! and quit my sight!

thee !

Let the earth hide

Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with!

Lady M. Think of this, good peers,
But as a thing of custom : 'tis no other;
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.
Macb. What man dare, I dare:

[5] The gentle weal, is, the peaceable community, the state made quiet and safe by human statutes." Mollia securæ peragebant otia gentes." JOHNSON. [6] To muse anciently signified to wonder, to be in amaze.

STEEVENS.

[7] We thirst, I suppose, means we desire to drink. M. MASON.

[8] i. e. All good wishes to all: such as he had named above, love, health, and joy.

WARBURTON.

Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger,
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves
Shall never tremble: Or, be alive again,
And dare me to the desert with thy sword;
If trembling I inhibit thee, protest me
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow !

[Ghost disappears,

Unreal mockery, hence !-Why, so ;-being gone,
-Pray you, sit still.

I am a man again.

Lady M. You have displac'd the mirth, broke the good meeting,

With most admir'd disorder.

Macb. Can such things be,

And overcome us like a summer's cloud,

Without our special wonder? You make me strange

Even to the disposition that I owe,

When now I think you can behold such sights,

And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,

When mine are blanch'd with fear.

Rosse. What sights, my lord?

Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and

worse;

Question enrages him : at once, good night :

Stand not upon the order of your going,

But go at once.

Len. Good night, and better health

Attend his majesty !

Lady M. A kind good night to all!

[Exeunt Lords and Attendants.

Macb. It will have blood; they say, blood will have

blood :

Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak;
Augurs, and understood relations, have

By magot-pies,' and choughs, and rooks, brought forth
The secret'st man of blood.- -What is the night?

Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

To inhibit is to forbid.

STEEVENS.

Perhaps we should read auguries, i. e. prognostications by means of omens and prodigies. "These, (says he) together with the connection of events with causes, have been instrumental in divulging the most secret murders." In Cotgrave's Dict. a magpie is called magatapie. Magot-pie is the original name of the bird; Magot being the familiar appellation given to pies, as we say Robin to a redbreast, Tom to a titmouse, Philip to a sparrow, &c. The modern mag is the abBreviation of the ancient Magot, a word which we had from the French.

STEEVENS.

Macb. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person, At our great bidding?

Lady M. Did you send to him, sir?

Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will send :
There's not a one of them, but in his house
I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow,
(Betimes I will,) unto the weird sisters :
More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know,
By the worst means, the worst: for mine own good,
All causes shall give way; I am in blood

Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er:

Strange things I have in head, that will to hand;
Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd."
Lady M. You lack the season of all natures, sleep.'
Macb. Come, we'll to sleep: My strange and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear, that wants hard use :-

We are yet but young in deed.

SCENE V.

[Exeunt.

The Heath. Thunder. Enter HECATE, meeting the three

Witches.

?5

1 Witch. Why, how now, Hecate ? you look angerly. Hec. Have I not reason, beldams, as you are,

Saucy, and overbold? How did you dare

To trade and traffic with Macbeth,

In riddles, and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver of all harms,
Was never call'd to bear my part,
Or show the glory of our art?

[2] Macbeth here asks a question, which the recollection of a moment enables him to answer. Of this forgetfulness, natural to a mind oppressed, there is a beautiful instance in the sacred song of Deborah and Barak-" She asked her wise women counsel, yea, she returned answer to herself." STEEVENS.

What Macbeth means to say is this: What do you think of this circumstance, that Macduff denies to come at our great bidding? What do you infer from thence? What is your opinion of the matter? STEEVENS.

[3] To scan is to examine nicely. STEEVENS. [4] I take the meaning to be, "You want sleep, which seasons, or gives the relish to, all nature. "Indiget somni vita condimenti." JOHNSON.

[5] Shakespeare has been censured for introducing Hecate among the vulgar witches, and, consequently, for confounding ancient with modern superstitions. But the Gothic and Pagan fictions were now frequently blended and incorporated. The Lady of the Lake floated in the suit of Neptune before Queen Elizabeth at Kenilworth; Ariel assumes the semblance of a sea-nymph, and Hecate, by an easy association, conducts the rites of the weird sisters in Macbeth.

T. WARTON.

And, which is worse, all you have done,
Hath been but for a wayward son,

Spiteful, and wrathful; who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now: Get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron

Meet me i' th' morning; thither he
Will come to know his destiny.

Your vessels, and your spells, provide,
Your charms, and every thing beside:
I am for th' air; this night I'll spend
Unto a dismal, fatal end.

Great business must be wrought ere noon:
Upon the corner of the moon

There hangs a vaporous drop profound;"
I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
And that, distill'd by magic slights,"
Shall raise such artificial sprights,
As, by the strength of their illusion,
Shall draw him on to his confusion :
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear
His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear:
And you all know, security

Is mortals' chiefest enemy.

Song. [Within.] Come away, come away, &c.3

Hark, I am call'd; my little spirit, see,

Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.

again.

[Exit.

1 Witch. Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back

[Exeunt

SCENE VI.

Fores. A Room in the Palace. Enter LENOX and another

Lord.

Len. My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, Which can interpret further: only, I say,

Things have been strangely borne: The gracious Duncan Was pitied of Macbeth :-marry, he was dead :—

[6] This vaporous drop seems to have been meant for the same as the virus lunare of the ancients, being a foam which the moon was supposed to shed on particular herbs, or other objects, when strongly solicited by enchantment. Lucan introduces Erictho using it. L. 6:

"et virus large lunare ministrat." Slights-arts; subtle practices.

JOHNSON.

STEEVENS.

This entire song I found in a MS. dramatic piece, entitled, " A Tragi-Coomodie called The Witch; long since acted, &c. written by Thomas Middleton."

VOL. IV.

STEEVENS.

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