The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms That death and nature do contend about them, 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 the surfeited grooms Do mock their charge with snores:] i. e. By going to sleep, they trifle and make light of the trust reposed in them, that of watching by their king. So, in Othello: "O mistress, villainy hath made mocks with love." Malone. 5 - their possets,] It appears from this passage, as well as from many others in our old dramatic performances, that it was the general custom to eat possets just before bed-time. So, in the first part of King Edward IV, by Heywood: " thou shalt be welcome to beef and bacon, and perhaps a bag-pud, ding; and my daughter Nell shall pop a posset upon thee when thou goest to bed." Macbeth has already said: "Go bid thy mistress when my drink is ready, Lady Macbeth has also just observed― "That which hath made them drunk, hath made me bold:→ and in The Merry Wives of Windsor, Mrs. Quickly promises Jack Rugby a posset at night. This custom is also mentioned by Froissart. Steevens. ----- death and nature do contend about them, Whether they live, or die.] Of this image our ancient writers were peculiarly fond. Thus again, in Twine's translation of the story of Prince Appollyn; "Death strived with life within her, and the conflict was daungerous and doubtfull who should preuaile." Again, in All's Well that Ends Well: thy blood and virtue "Contend for empire in thee." Steevens. Again, ibid: Nature and sickness "Debate it at their leisure." Malone. 7 Hark! I laid their daggers ready, He could not miss them.] Compare Euripides,—-Orestéky v. 1291-where Electra stands centinel at the door of the palace, whilst Orestes is within for the purpose of murdering Helen. The dread of a surprize, and eagerness for the business, make My father as he slept, I had done 't. My husband? Enter MACBETH. Macb. I nave done the deed:-Didst thou not hear a noise? Lady M. I heard the owls scream, and crickets cry Did not you speak? Macb. When? Lady M. Donalbain. Electra conclude that the deed must be done ere time enough had elapsed for attempting it. She listens with anxious impatience; and hearing nothing, expresses strong fears lest the dag→ gers should have failed. Read the whole passage. S. W. Had be not resembled 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 reve rence, made her unnatural passions, for a moment, give way to the sentiments of instinct and humanity. Warburton. The same circumstance, on a similar occasion, is introduced by Statius, in the fifth Book of his Thebaid, v. 236: "Ut vero Aleimeden etiamnum in murmure truncos Thoas was the father of Hypsipyle, the speaker. Steevens.. 9 This is a sorry sight.] This expression might have been bor rowed from Spenser's Fairy Queen, B. V, c. i, st. 14: "To whom as they approched, they espide "A sorie sight as ever seene with eye; In her own bloud all wallow'd woefully." Whalley That they did wake each other; I stood and heard them There are two lodg'd together. Macb. One cried, God bless us ! and, Amen, the other As they had seen me,' with these hangman's hands, Listening their fear,2 I could not say, amen, When they did say, God bless us.' Lady M. Consider it not so deeply. Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce, amen? I had most need of blessing, and amen Stuck in my throat. These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad. Macb. Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep; Sleep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,^ ↑ As they had seen me,] i. e, as if. So, in The Winter Tate: "As we are mock'd with art." Steevens. Listening their fear.] i. e. Listening to their fear, the par icle omitted. This is common in our author. Thus, in Julius Besar, Act IV, sc. i: and now, Octavius, "Listen great things." Contemporary writers took the same liberty. So, in The "There, in rich seats, all wrought of ivory, "Of warbling birds." Steevens. 3 When they did say, God bless us.] The words-did say, which render this hemistich too long to unite with the next in forming a verse, persuade me that the passage originally ran thus: I could not say, amen, When they, God bless us. i. e. when they could say God bless us. Could say, in the second line, was left to be understood; as before 66 - and, Amen, the other:" i. e. the other cried Amen. But the players, having no idea of the latter ellipsis, supplied the syllables that destroy the measure. Steevens. 4 the ravell'd sleave of care,] Sleave signifies the ravelled knotty part of the silk, which gives great trouble and em The death of each day's life, sore labour's batħi,ŝ barrassment to the knitter or weaver. Heath. Drayton, a poet of Shakspeare's age, has likewise alluded to leaved or ravelled silk, in his Quest of Cynthia: "At length I on a fountain light, Whose brim with pinks was platted, Langton. Sleave is properly silk which has not been twisted. It is mentioned in Holinshed's History of England, p. 835: "Eight wild men all apparelled in green moss made with sleved silk.” Again, in The Muses' Elizium, by Drayton: thrumb'd with grass "As soft as sleave or sarcenet ever was. Again, ibid : "That in the handling feels as soft as any sleave." Steevent. Sleave appears to have signified coarse, soft, unwrought silk Seta grossolana, Ital. Cotgrave, in his Dicr. 1660, renders soye flosche, "sleave silk." See also, ibid: "Cadarce, pour faire capiton. The tow, or coarsest part of silke, whereof sleave is made."-In Troilus and Cressida we have-" Thou idle immaterial skein of sleave silk." Malone. Ravelled means entangled. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Thurio says to Proteus, speaking of Sylvia "Therefore as you unwind her love from him, دو "You must provide to bottom it on me. M. Mason, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, &c.] In this encomium upon sleep, amongst the many appellations which are given it, significant of its beneficence and friendliness to life, we find one which conveys a different idea, and by no means agrees. with the rest, which is-The death of each day's life. I make no question but Shakspeare wrote The birth of each day's life. The true characteristick of sleep, which repairs the decays of labour, and assists that returning vigour which supplies the next day's activity. Warburton. The death of each day's life, means the end of each day's labour, sbe conclusion of all that bustle and fatigue that each day's life brings with it. Thus also Chapman, in his version of the nineteenth Iliad: The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds,] Is it not probable that Shakspeare remembered the following verses in Sir Philip Sydney's Astrophel and Stella, a poem, from which he has quoted a line in The Merry Wives of Windsor? Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Lady M. What do you mean? Macb. Still it cried, Sleep no more! to all the house: Glamis hath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!" "Come sleepe, O sleepe, the certain knot of peace, "The bathing place of wits, the balm of woe, “The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, "The indifferent judge between the high and low." So also, in The famous Historie of George Lord Fauconbridge, kc. bl. 1. "Yet sleep, the comforter of distressed minds, could not lock up her eyes Again, in Golding's translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, B. VIII, 1587: 66 At such a time as folkes are wont to find release "Of cares that all the day before were working in their heds, "By sleep," &c. Again, ibid. B. XI: "O sleepe, quoth she, the rest of things, O gentlest of the goddes, "Sweete sleepe, the peace of mind, with whom crookt care is aye at odds; "Which cherishest men's weary limbs appall'd with toyling sore, "And makest them as fresh to worke, and lustie as before." The late Mr. Gray had perhaps our author's "death of each day's life" in his thoughts, when he wrote "The curfew tolls the knell of parting day." Malone. He might as probably have thought on the following passage in the first scene of The Second Part of King Henry IV: 66 a sullen bell "Remember'd knolling a departed friend." Steevens. 6 Chief nourisher in life's feast;] So, in Chaucer's Squiere's Tale, v. 10,661; Mr. Tyrwhitt's edition: “The norice of digestion, the sleepe." Steevens. 7 Glamis bath murder'd sleep; and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more!] This triple menace, accommodated to the different titles of Macbeth, is too quaint to be received as the natural ebullition of a guilty mind. Introduce the adjuncts of a modern nobleman in the same manner, and the fault of the passage will become yet more conspicuous as for instance Norfolk bath murder'd sleep; and therefore Surrey Steevenst |