That were most precious to me.-Did heaven look-Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afear'd? What

eyes,

And braggart with my tongue!-But, gentle heaven,
Cut short all intermission; front to front,
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

Mal.
This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave: Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you
may;

The night is long, that never finds the day.

ACT V.

[Exe.

Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked ?

Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her night

need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account 7-Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? Doct. Do you mark that?

Lady M. The thane of Fife had a wife; Where is she now?-What, will these hands ne'er be clean?-No more o'that, my lord, no more o'that: you mar all with this starting.

Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you should not.

Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known. Lady M. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh!

Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely charged.

Gent. I would not have such a heart in my bosom, for the dignity of the whole body.

Doct. Well, well, well,—

Gent. 'Pray God, it be, sir.

Doct. This disease is beyond my practice: Yet have known those which have walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.

I

Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale:-I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his grave.

Doct. Even so?

the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your
Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at
hand; What's done, cannot be undone: To bed,
to bed, to bed.
[Exit Lady Macbeth.
Doct. Will she go now to bed?
Gent. Directly.

Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad: Unnatural
deeds

gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, Do breed unnatural troubles: Infected minds fold it, write upon it, read it, afterwards seal it, and To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. again return to bed; yet all this while in a most More needs she the divine, than the physician.fast sleep.

Doct. A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In this slumbry agitation, besides her walking, and other actual performances, what, at I any time, have you heard her say?

Gent. That, sir, which I will not report after her.
Doct. You may, to me; and 'tis most meet you

should.

Gent. Neither to you, nor any one, having no witness to confirm my speech.

Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper. Lo you, here she comes! This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast asleep. Observe her; stand close.

God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her :-So, good night:
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight:
think, but dare not speak.

Gent.

Good night, good doctor.

[Exeunt. SCENE II.-The country near Dunsinane. Enter, with drum and colours, Menteth, Cathness, Angus, Lenox, and Soldiers.

Ment. The English power is near, led on by

Malcolm,

His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them: for their dear causes
Would, to the bleeding, and the grim alarm,
Excite the mortified man.4

Doct. How came she by that light?
Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by Ang.
her continually; 'tis her command.

Doct. You see, her eyes are open.
Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.

Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands.

Gent. It is an accustomed action with her, to seem thus washing her hands; I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour.

Lady M. Yet here's a spot.

Doct. Hark, she speaks: I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

Lady M. Out, damned spot! out, I say!-One; Two; Why, then 'tis time to do't:-Hell is murky!

(1) All pause, (2) Dark, (3) Confounded.

Near Birnam wood
Shall we well meet them; that way are they coming.
Cath. Who knows, if Donalbain be with his
brother?

Len. For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file
Of all the gentry; there is Siward's son,
And many unrough youths, that even now
Protest their first of manhood.

Ment.
What does the tyrant?
Cath. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies:
Some say, he's mad; others, that lesser hate him,
Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.
Ang.

Now does he feel

(4) A religious; an ascetic, (5) Unbearded,

How does your patient, doctor?

Docl.

As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,
That keep her from her rest.

Macb.
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd;
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow;
Raze out the written troubles of the brain;
And, with some sweet oblivious antidote,
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff
Which weighs upon the heart?

Doct.

Must minister to himself.

Macb. Throw physic to the dogs, I'll none of it.-
Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff:-
Seyton, send out.-Doctor, the thanes fly from me:—
Come, sir, despatch:-If thou could'st, doctor, cast
The water of my land, find her disease,
And purge it to a sound and pristine health,
I would applaud thee to the very echo,
That should applaud again.-Pull't off, I say.—
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug,
Would scour these English hence?-Hearest thou

Dect. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation
Makes us hear something."
Macb.

Bring it after me.▬▬ will not be afraid of death and bane, [Eril. Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, [Exit. Profit again should hardly draw me here. SCENE IV.-Country near Dunsinane; A wood in view. Enter, with drum and colors, Malcolm, Old Siward and his Son, Macduff, Menteth, Cathness, Angus, Lenox, Rosse, and Sol

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon; diers, marching.
Where got'st thou that goose-look?

Sey. What is your gracious pleasure?
What news more?
Macb.
Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was re-
ported.

Macb. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be
hack'd.

Mecb. I'll put it on.
Send out more horses, skirr the country round;
Hang those that talk of fear.-Give me mine ar-

(1) The physician. (2) Sink. (3) Base fellow,
(5) Dry,
(4) An appellation of contempt.

Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.

The cry is still, They come: Our casile's strength Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night,
Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie,
Till famine, and the ague, eat them up:
Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours,
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard,
And beat them backward home. What is that noise?]
[A cry within, of women.

Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them
all breath,

Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears:
The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
To hear a night-shriek; and my fell' of hair
Would at a dismal treatise rouse, and stir
As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors;
Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.-Wherefore was that cry?
Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.
Mucb. She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.-
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.-

Enter a Messenger.

Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
[Exeunt. Alarums continued.

SCENE VII.-The same. Another part of the
plain. Enter Macbeth.

Macb. They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,
But, bear-like, I must fight the course.-What's he,
That was not born of woman? Such a one
Am I to fear, or none.

Enter Young Siward.

Yo. Siw. What is thy name?
Macb.
Thou'lt be afraid to hear it.
Yo. Siw. No; though thou call'st thyself a hot-

ter name

My name's Macbeth.

Than any is in hell.
Macb.
Yo. Siw. The devil himself could not pronounce

a title
More hateful to mine ear.

Macb.
No, nor more fearful.
Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my
sword

I'll prove the lie thou speak'st.

Macb.

[They fight, and Young Siward is slain. Thou wast born of woman.

Thou com'st to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, Mess. Gracious my lord,

I shall report that which I say I saw,

But know not how to do it.

Well, say, sir.

Macb.
Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill,
I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.

Macb.

Liar, and slave!

[Striking him.

Brandish'd by man that's of a woman born. [Ex.

Alarums. Enter Macduff.

Macd. That way the noise is :-Tyrant, show thy face:

If thou be'st slain, and with no stroke of mine, My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still. cannot strike at wretched kernes, whose arms Are hir'd to bear their staves; either thou, Macbeth, Mess. Let me endure your wrath, if't be not so:Or else my sword, with an unbatter'd edge, Within this three mile may you see it coming; I sheath again undeeded. There thou should'st be; By this great clatter, one of greatest note Seems bruited: Let me find him, fortune! And more I beg not.

I say, a moving grove.
Macb.

If thou speak'st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive,
Till famine cling2 thee: if thy speech be sooth,
I care not if thou dost for me as much.-
I pull in resolution; and begin
To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
That lies like truth: Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane;-and now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and
If this, which he avouches, does appear,
There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here.
I'gin to be a-weary of the sun,

Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die

SCENE VI-The same. A plain before the cas-On mine own sword? whiles I sce lives, the gashes tle. Enter, with drums and colours, Malcolm. Do better upon them. Old Siward, Macduff, &c. and their boughs.

338

MACBETH.

As easy may'st thou the entrenchant air1
With thy keen sword impress, as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;

I bear a charmed life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.

Macd.

Despair thy charm;
And let the angel, whom thou still hast serv'd,
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb
Untimely ripp'd.

Macb. Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,

And break it to our hope.-I'll not fight with thee.
Macd. Then yield thee, coward,

And live to be the show and gaze o'the time.
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole; and underwrit,
Here may you see the tyrant.

Macb.

I'll not yield,

To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,
And to be baited with the rabble's curse.
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last: Before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff;
And damn'd be him that first cries, Hold, enough.
[Exeunt, fighting.
Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter, with drum and
colours, Malcolm, Old Siward, Rosse, Lenox,
Angus, Cathness, Menteth, and soldiers.

Mal. I would, the friends we miss were safe ar-
riv'd.

Siw. Some must go off: and yet, by these, I see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Rosse. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's

debt:

He only liv'd but till he was a man;

The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd
In the unshrinking station where he fought,
But like a man he died.

Then he is dead?

Siw.
Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field: your cause
of sorrow

Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then

It hath no end.

Siw.

Had he his hurts before?

Rosse. Aye, on the front.
Siw.

He's worth more sorrow,

Mal.
He's worth no more;
Siw.
And that I'll spend for him.
They say, he parted well, and paid his score:
So, God be with him!-Here comes newer comfort.
Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head on a pole.

Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art: Behold,
where stands

The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,"
That speak my salutation in their minds;
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine,-
Hail, king of Scotland!
Aul.

King of Scotland, hail!
[Flourish.
Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time,
Before we reckon with your several loves,

And make us even with you. My thanes and kins

priety of its fiction, and solemnity, grandeur, and This play is deservedly celebrated for the provariety of its action; but it has no nice discriminations of character; the events are too great to admit the influence of particular dispositions, and the course of the action necessarily determines the conduct of the agents.

The danger of ambition is well described; and I know not whether it may not be said, in defence of some parts which now seem improbable, that in Shakspeare's time it was necessary to warn credulity against vain and illusive predictions. The passions are directed to their true end. Lady

Why then, God's soldier be he! Macbeth is merely detested; and though the cou rage of Macbeth preserves some esteem, yet every reader rejoices at his fall.

Had I as many sons as I have hairs,

I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so his knell is knoll'd.

(1) The air, which cannot be cut. (2) Shuffle.

(339

KING JOHN.

King John.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Lewis, the dauphin.

Prince Henry, his son; afterward King Henry III. Arch-duke of Austria.
Arthur, duke of Bretagne, son of Geffrey, late duke Cardinal Pandulph, the pope's legate.
of Bretagne, the elder brother of King Melun, a French lord.
John.

William Marshall, earl of Pembroke.
Geffrey Fitz-Peter, earl of Essex, chief justiciary
of England.

William Longsword, earl of Salisbury.
Robert Bigot, earl of Norfolk.

Hubert de Burgh, chamberlain to the king.
Robert Faulconbridge, son of Sir Robert Faulcon-
bridge.

Chatillon, ambassador from France to King John.

Elinor, the widow of King Henry II. and mother of

King John.

Constance, mother to Arthur.

Blanch, daughter to Alphonso, king of Castile, and
niece to King John.

Lady Faulconbridge, mother to the bastard, and
Robert Faulconbridge.

Philip Faulconbridge, his half-brother, bastard son Lords, ladies, citizens of Angiers, sheriff, heralds,

to King Richard the First.

James Gurney, servant to Lady Faulconbridge.

Peter of Pomfret, a prophet.

officers, soldiers, messengers, and other attend

ants.

Scene, sometimes in England, and sometimes in
France.

Philip, king of France.

ACT I.

The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: So, hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath, SCENE I.-Northampton. A room of state in And sullen presage of your own decay.— the palace. Enter King John, Queen Elinor, An honourable conduct let him have: Pembroke, Essex, Salisbury, and others, with Pembroke, look to't: Farewell, Chatillon. Chatillon.

King John.

Now, say, Chatillon, what would France

us?

with

Chat. Thus, after greeting, speaks the king
France,

In my behaviour,' to the majesty,
The borrow'd majesty of England here.

of

Eli. A strange beginning;-borrow'd majesty!
K. John. Silence, good mother; hear the em-
bassy.

Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf
Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son,
Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim
To this fair island, and the territories;

To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine:
Desiring thee to lay aside the sword,
Which sways usurpingly these several titles;
And put the same into young Arthur's hand,
Thy nephew, and right royal sovereign.

K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this?
Chat. The proud control of fierce and bloody war,
To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.

K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood for blood,

Controlment for controlment; so answer France. Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my mouth,

The furthest limit of my embassy.

[Exeunt Chatillon and Pembroke. Eli. What now, my son? have I not ever said, How that ambitious Constance would not cease,

Till she had kindled France, and all the world,

Upon the right and party of her son?

This might have been prevented, and made whole,
With very easy arguments of love;

Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
With fearful bloody issue arbitrate.

K. John. Our strong possession, and our right
for us.

Eli. Your strong possession, much more than
your right;

Or else it must go wrong with you, and me:
So much my conscience whispers in your ear;
Which none but heaven, and you, and I, shall hear.
Enter the Sheriff of Northamptonshire, who whis-
pers Essex.

Essex. My liege, here is the strangest controversy,
Come from the country to be judg'd by you,
That ere I heard: Shall I produce the men?
Our abbies, and our priories, shall pay
K. John. Let them approach. [Exit Sheriff.

Re-enter Sheriff, with Robert Faulconbridge, and
Philip, his bastard brother.

This expedition's charge.--What men are you?
Bast. Your faithful subject I, a gentleman,
Born in Northamptonshire; and eldest son,

K. John. Bear mine to him, and so depart in As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge;

peace:

Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France;

For ere thou canst report I will be there,

(1) In the manner I now do.

A soldier, by the honour-giving hand
Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field.
K. John. What art thou?

(2) Conduct, administration.