8

And pall thee in the dulleft fimoak of hell,

That my keen knife fee not the wound it makes;
Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry hold, hold!

Enter Macbeth.

Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!

[Embracing him.

Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter !

Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant prefent time, and I feel now
The future in the inftant.

Macb. Deareft love,

Duncan comes here to night.

Lady. And when goes hence?

Mach. To morrow, as he purposes.

Lady. Oh, never

Shall Sun that,morrow fee! ——

Your face, my Thane, is as a book, where men

May read strange matters.

To beguile the time

Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,

Your hand, your tongue; look like the innocent flower,

But be the serpent under't. He, that's coming,
Must be provided for; and you fhall put

This night's great bufinefs into my dispatch,
Which fhall to all our nights and days to come
Give folely fovereign fway and mafterdom.
Mach. We will speak further.
Lady. Only look up clear:

To alter favour, ever, is to fear.
Leave all the rest to me.

And pall thee- ] i. e. wrap thyself in a pall. WARB. 9 To cry, hold, hold!] On this paffage there is a long criticifm in the Rambler.

ble.

[Exeunt.

WARBURTON,

Ignorant has here the fignification of unknowing; that is, I feel by anticipation thofe future honours, of which, according to the process of nature, the prefent time would be ignorant,

SCENE

SCENE VIII,

Before Macbeth's Caftle-Gate.

Hautboys and Torches. Enter King, Malcolm, Do nalbain, Banquo, Lenox, Macduff, Roffe, Angus, and Attendants.

TH

King.HIS Caftle hath a pleafant feat; the air Nimbly and fweetly recommends itfelf

Unto our gentle fenfes.

Ban. This gueft of fummer,

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve
By his lov'd Manfiorry that heaven's breath
Smells wooingly here. No jutty frieze,

Buttrice, nor coigne of 'vantage, but this bird
Hath made his pendant bed, and procreant cradle;
Where they moft breed and haunt, I have obferv'd,
The air is delicate.

2 Unto our GENTLE SENSES.] How odd a character is this of the air that it could recommend it felf to all the fenfes, not excepting the fight and hearing? Without doubt, we fhould read,

Unto our GENERAL SENSE, meaning the touch or feeling: which not being confined to one part, like the rest of the fenfes, but extended over the whole body, the poet, by a fine periphrafis, calls the general fenje. Therefore by the air's recommending it felf nimbly and fweetly, must be understood that it was clear and foft, which properties recreated the fibres, and affifted their vibration. And furely it was a good circumstance in the air of

Enter Lady Macbeth.

King. See, fee! our honour'd Hostess!

The love that follows us, fometimes is our trouble, Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you, * How you should bid god-yield us for your pains, And thank us for your trouble.

Lady. All our fervice,

In every point twice done, and then done double,
Were poor and fingle bufinefs to contend

Against those honours deep and broad, wherewith
Your Majefty loads our House. For those of old,
And the late dignities heap'd up to them,
'We reft your Hermits.

King. Where's the Thane of Cawdor?

We courft him at the heels, and had a purpofe
To be his purveyor; but he rides well,

And his great love, fharp as his fpur, hath holp him
To's home before us. Fair and noble Hostess,
We are your guest to night.

Lady. Your fervants ever

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs in compt, To make their audit at your Highness' pleasure,

Still to return your own.

King. Give me your hand;

Conduct me to mine Hoft, we love him highly;
And fhall continue our graces towards him.
-By your leave, Hoftefs.

4 How you fhould bid god yeld us-Tobid any one god yeld bim, i. e. God-yield him, was the fame as God reward him.

WARBURTON.

[Exeunt.

the folio of 1623. eyld, is a cor-
rupted contraction of field. The
with implores not reward but
protection.

We reft your Hermits] Her-
WARB.

I believe yild, or, as it is in mits, for Beadfmen.

SCENE

Changes to an Apartment in Macbeth's Caftle. Hautboys, Torches. Enter divers fervants with difbes and fervice over the ftage. Then Macbeth.

Macb.*

I'

F it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere
well

It were done quickly; If th' affaffination
Could trammel up the confequence, and catch
+ With its furceafe, fuccefs; that but this blow
Might be the Be-all and the End-all-Here.
But here, upon this Bank and "Shoal of time,
We'd jump the life to come.-But, in these cases,
We still have judgment bere, that we but teach
Bloody Inftructions, which, being taught, return
To plague th' inventor; this even-handed juftice
Commends th' ingredients of our poifon'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double truft;
First, as I am his kinfman and his fubject,
Strong both against the deed; then, as his Hoft,
Who should againft his murth'rer fhut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
7 Hath borne his faculties fo meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead, like angels, trumpet-tongu'd again
The deep damnation of his taking-off;

And Pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blaft, or heav'n's cherubin hors'd

If it were done, &c.] A
man of learning recommends
another punctuation.
If it were done when, 'tis done
then, 'twere well.
It were done quickly. If, &c.
With its Jurceafe, fuccefs;]
I think the reasoning requires
that we should read,

With its success, furcease.—
6 -Shoal of time.] This is

Upon

Upon the fightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in ev'ry eye;

? That tears fhall drown the wind-1 have no fpur
To prick the fides of my intent, but only
Vaulting Ambition, which o'er-leaps itself,
And falls on th' other-

'S CENE

Enter Lady Macbeth.

Lady. He's almost supp'd; why have you left the chamber?

Mach. Hath he ask'd for me?