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Whom I myself ftruck down and thence it is,
That I to your affiftance do make love,
Masking the bufinefs from the common eye
For fundry weighty reasons.

2 Mur. We fhall, my Lord, Perform what you command us.

1 Mur. Though our lives

[moft,

Macb. Your fpirits fhine through you. In this hour, at I will advise you where to plant yourselves; Acquaint you with the perfect fpy o' th' time, The moment on't; (for't must be done to-night, (21) And fomething from the palace: always thought, That I require a clearness :) and with him, (To leave no rubs nor botches in the work) Fleance his fon, that keeps him company, (Whofe abfence is no lefs material to me, Than is his father's) muft embrace the fate Of that dark hour. Refolve yourselves a-part, I'll come to you anon,

Mur. We are refolv'd, my Lord.

Mach. I'll call upon you straight; abide within.

(21) for't must be done to night,

And fomething from the palace: always thought,

[Exeunt Murderers..

That I require a clearnefs:] The latter branch of this fentence Mr. Pope has funk upon us, in both his editions, tho' it is authoriz'd by all the preceding copies. If I may venture to guefs at the reafon of his fuppreffing thefe words, it was because he did not understand them but Macbeth means, that the murderers muft in every step remember, he requires not to be fufpected of the fact; to ftand clear from all imputations, which might affect him in the opinions of people. I have frequently obferv'd, how minutely Shakespeare is used to follow his hiftory in little particular circumstances. This is one fignal inftance. Let us hear honeft Holingshead (from whom he has copied this whole tale) in his hiftory of Scotland p. 172.-He willed therefore the fame Banqubo with his fon named Fleance to come to a fupper that he had prepared for them; which was, indeed, as he had devifed, prefent death at the hands of certain Murderers whom he hired to execute that deed; appointing them to meet with the fame Banqubo and his fon without the palace, as they returned to their lodgings, and there to flea them, fo that he would not have his house flandered; but that in time to come he might clear bimfelf, if any thing were laid to his charge upon any fufpicion that might arife.

It is concluded;-Banque, thy foul's flight,
If it find heav'n, muft find it out to-night.

[Exit.

SCENE, another Apartment in the Palace.

Enter Lady Macbeth, and a Servant.

Lady. S. Banque gone from court

Ser. Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.

Lady. Say to the King, I would attend his leisure

For a few words.

Ser. Madam, I will.

Lady. Nought's had, all's fpent,

Where our defire is got without content: "Tis fafer to be that which we deftroy,

Than by deftruction dwell in doubtful joy.

Enter Macbeth.

[Exit.

How now, my Lord, why do you keep alone?
Of forrieft fancies your companions making,
Ufing those thoughts, which fhould, indeed, have dy'd
With them they think on? things without all remedy
Should be without regard; what's done, is done.

Macb. We have fcotch'd the fnake, not kill'd it--(22)

She'll

(22) We have fcorch'd the fnake, not kill'd it, She'll clofe, and be berfelf;] This is a paffage, which has all along paffed current thro' the editions, and yet, I dare affirm, not our author's reading. What has a fnake, clofing again, to do with its being fcorch'd? fcorching would never either feparate, or dilate, its parts; but rather make them inftantly contract and frivel. SHAKESPEARE, I am very well perfuaded, had this notion in his head; that if you cut a ferpent or worm afunder, in feveral pieces, there is fuch an unctucus quality in their blood, that the difmember'd parts, being only placed near enough to touch one another, will cement and become as whole as before the injury receiv'd. The application of this thought is to Duncan, the murder'd King, and his furviving fons. Macbeth confiders them fo much as members of the father, that tho' he has cut off the old man, he would fay, he has not entirely kill'd him, but he'll revive again in the lives of his fons. Can we doubt therefore but that the poet wrote, as I have reftor'd to the text,

We have fcotch'd the fnake, not kill'd it ?

To feetely however the generality of our Dictionaries happen to omit

the

She'll clofe, and be herself; whilft our poor malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.

But let both worlds disjoint, and all things fuffer,
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and fleep

In the affliction of these terrible dreams,

That shake us nightly.

Better be with the dead, (Whom we, to gain our place, have fent to peace,} Than on the torture of the mind to lie

In reftlefs ecftafy.-Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever, he fleeps well;
Treafon has done his worft; nor fteel, nor poifon,
Malice domeftick, foreign levy, nothing
Can touch him further!
Lady. Come on;

Gentle my Lord, fleek o'er your rugged looks;
Be bright, and jovial, 'mong your guests to-night.
Mach. So fhall I, love; and fo, I pray, be you;
Let your remembrance ftill apply to Banquo.
Prefent him eminence, both with eye and tongue:
Unfafe the while, that we muft lave our honours
In these fo flatt'ring ftreams, and make our faces
Vizors t'our hearts, difguifing what they are!—
Lady. You must leave this.

Macb. O, full of fcorpions is my mind, dear wife!
Thou know'ft, that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
Lady. But in them, nature's copy's not eternal.
Macb. There's comfort yet, they are affailable;
Then, be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown
His cloyfter'd flight, ere to black Hecate's fummons
The fhard-born beetle with his drowsy hums
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there fhall be done

the word, fignifies, to notch, flash, back, cut, with twigs, fwords, &c. and fo our poet more than once has ufed it in his works.

CORIOLANUS.

He was too hard for him directly, to fay the troth on't: Before Corioli, he fcotch'd him, and notch'd him, like a Carbonado. ANTONY and CLEOPATRA.

We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet
Room for fix Scotches more.

I made this emendation, when I publish'd my SHAKESPEARE reford; and Mr. Pope has vouchfafed to embrace it in his last edition.

A

A deed of dreadful note.

Lady. What's to be done?

Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, deareft chuck, 'Till thou applaud the deed: come, feeling night, (23) Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day,

And with thy bloody and invifible hand
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond,

Which keeps me pale! Light thickens, and the Crow
Makes Wing to th' rooky wood :

Good things of day begin to droop and drouze. Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouze, Thou marvell'ft at my words; but hold thee ftill; Things, bad begun, make ftrong themfelves by ill: So, pr'ythee, go with me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a Park; the Caftle at a

1 Mar. B
•BUT

distance.

Enter three Murderers.

UT who did bid thee join with us?
3 Mur. Macbeth.

2 Mur. He needs not our miftruft, fince he delivers (24)

(23)

come, fealing night,

Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day;] Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope, neither of them were aware of the poet's metaphor here, and fa have blunder'd the text into nonfenfe. I have reftor'd from the old copies,

-come, feeling night,

ie. blinding. It is a term in falconry, when they run a thread thro' the eyelids of a hawk firft taken, fo that the may fee very little, or not at all, to make her the better endure the hood. This they call, feeling a hawk.

(24) He needs not to mifruf,-] Mr. Pope has here fophifticated the text, for want of understanding it. I can eafily fee, that he conceiv'd this to be the meaning; that Macbeth had no occafion to mistrust the murderers he had employ'd, and plant another upon them. But the text in the old copies ftands thus,

He needs not our miftruft,

Macbeth had agreed with the two murderers, and apppoints a third to affift them. The two are fomewhat jealous of him at first, but finding that he was fo particular and precife in his directions, that he knew every part of their commiffion, they agree, that there is no need to mistrust him, and fo bid him stand with them.

Our

Our offices, and what we have to do,
To the direction juft.

1 Mur. Then ftand with us.

The weft yet glimmers with some streaks of day
Now fpurs the lated traveller apace,

To gain the timely inn; and near approaches
The fubject of our watch.

3 Mur. Hark, I hear horfes.

Banquo within. Give us light there, ho!
2 Mur. Then it is he: the reft,

That are within the note of expectation,
Already are i' th' court.

I Mur. His horses go about.

3

Mur. Almoft a mile: but he does ufually, (S all men do,) from hence to th' palace-gate Make it their walk.

Enter Banquo and Fleance, with a Torch.

2 Mur. A light, a light.

3

Mur. 'Tis he.

1 Mur. Stand to't.

Ban. It will be rain to-night.

1 Mur. Let it come down.
Ban. Oh, treachery!

Fly, Fleance, Ay, fly, fly,
Thou may'ft revenge. Oh flave!

[They affault Banquo.

[Dies. Fleance efcapes.

3 Mur. Who did ftrike out the light? I Mur. Was't not the way?

3

Mur. There's but one down; the fon Is fled.

2 Mur. We've loft beft half of our affair.

Mur. Well, let's away, and fay how much is done.

[Exeunt

SCENE

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