Mac Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him Macd. My ever-gentle Coufin, welcome hither. Mal. I know him now. Good God betimes remove The means that makes us ftrangers! Roffe. Sir, Amen. Macd. Stands Scotland where it did? Roffe. Alas, poor Country, Almoft afraid to know itself. It cannot Be call'd our Mother, but our Grave; where nothing, Is there scarce ask'd, for whom : and good men's lives Macd. Oh, relation Too nice, and yet too true! Mal. What's the newest grief? Roffe. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker, Each minute teems a new one. Macd. How does my wife? Roffe. Why, well. Macd. And all my children? Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? leave 'em. Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes it? Roffe. When I came hither to transport the tidings, Which I have heavily borne, there ran a ruinour Of many worthy fellows that were out, Which was to my belief witnefs'd the rather, For For that I faw the Tyrant's Power a-foot; Mal. Be't their comfort We're coming thither: gracious England hath This comfort with the like! But I have words, The gen'ral caufe? or is it a fee grief, Roffe. No mind, that's honeft, But in it fhares fome woe; though the main part Macd. If it be mine, Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. Roffe. Let not your ears defpife my tongue for ever, Which fhall poffefs them with the heavieft Sound, That ever yet they heard. Macd. Hum! I guess at it. Roffe. Your Caftle is furpriz'd, your wife and babes Savagely flaughter'd; to relate the manner, Were on the Quarry of thefe murder'd deer To add the death of you. Mal. Merciful heav'n ! What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; Roffe. Wife,children, fervants, all that could be found. Mal. Be comforted. [too! Let's Let's make us med'cines of our great Revenge, Macd. He has no children -All my pretty ones? Mal. Difpute it like a Man. Macd. I fhall do fo: But I must alfo feel it as a Man. I cannot but remember fuch things were, Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes, And braggart with my tongue. But, gentle heav'n! Cut fhort all intermiffion: front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; Mal. This tune goes manly: Come, go we to the King, our Power is ready; I ACT V. SCENE I. An Ante-chamber in Macbeth's Cafile. Enter a Doctor of Phyfic, and a Gentlewoman. DOCTOR. Have two nights watch'd with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it, fhe laft walk'd? Gent. Gent. Since his Majefty went into the field, I have feen her rife from her bed, throw her night-gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards feal it, and again return to bed; Yet all this while in a most fast sleep. Doct. A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once the benefit of fleep, and do the effects of watching. In this flumbry agitation, besides her walking, and other actual performances, what (at any time) have you heard her fay? Gent. That, Sir, which I will not report after her. Doct. You may to me, and 'tis most meet you fhould. Gent. Neither to you, nor any one, having no witnefs to confirm my fpeech. Enter Lady Macbeth with a Taper. Lo, you! here fhe comes: this is her very guife, and upon my life, faft afleep; obferve her, ftand close. Doct. How came fhe by that light? Gent. Why, it ftood by her: the has light by her continually, 'tis her command. Doct. You fee, her eyes are open. Gent. Ay, but their fenfe is fhut. Doct. What is it fhe does now? look, how she rubs her hands. Gent. It is an accuftom'd Action with her, to feem thus washing her hands: I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour. Lady. Yet here's a spot. * Doct. Hark, fhe speaks. I will fet down what comes from her, to fortify my remembrance the more ftrongly. Lady. Out! damned fpot; out, I say one; two; why then, 'tis time to do't-hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie! a foldier, and afraid? what need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to fatisfy my remembrance the more ftrongly.] Both the Senfe and Expreffion require we should read, to fortify my Remembrance. Warb. Q to to account?-yet who would have thought the old man to have fo much blood in him? Doct. Do you mark that? Lady. The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is the now; what, will thefe hands ne'er be clean?— no more o' that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this ftarting. Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what you fhould not. Gent. She has fpoke what she should not, I am fure of that heav'n knows, what she has known. : Lady. Here's the fmell of the blood ftill: all the perfumes of Arabia will not fweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh! Do&. What a figh is there? the heart is forely charg'd. Gent. I would not have fuch a heart in my bofom, for the dignity of the whole body. Doct. Well, well, well Gent. Pray God, it be, Sir. Dot. This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known thofe which have walk'd in their fleep, who have died holily in their beds. Lady. Wash your hands, put on your Night-gown, look not fo pale--I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his Grave. Dot. Even fo? Lady. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at the gate: come, come, come, come, give me your hand: what's done, cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed. [Exit Lady. Dot. Will he go now to bed? Infected minds Dot. Foul whifp'rings are abroad; unnat'ral deeds Do breed unnat'ral troubles. To their deaf pillows will difcharge their Secrets. More needs the the Divine, than the Phyfician. God, God, forgive us all! Look after her; |