תמונות בעמוד


Enter Rosse.
E E, who comes here!

Macd. S

S MEMy coamers wan; but yet I know Line

Macd. My ever-gentle Cousin, welcome hither.

Mal. I know him now. Good God betimes remove The means that makes us strangers !

Rose. Sir, Amen.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did ?

Roffe. Alas, poor Country,
Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot
Be call’d our Mother, but our Grave ; where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile:
Where signs and groans, and shrieks that rend the air,
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
A modern ecstasy : the dead-man's Knell
Is there scarce alk'd, for whom: and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps ;
Dying, or ere they licken.

Macd. Oh, relation
Too nice, and yet too true!

Mal. What's the newest grief?

Rose. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker, Each minute teems a new one. Macd. How does


wife? Roffe. Why, well. Macd. And all my children? Rose. Well too. Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace ? Roffe. No ; they were well at peace, when I did

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 witness'd the rather,


[ocr errors][ocr errors]

For that I saw the Tyrant's Power a-foot ;
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, and make women fight,
To doff their dire distresses.

Mal. Be't their comfort
We're coming thither: gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men ;
An older, and a better soldier, none
That Christendom gives out.

Rose. 'Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words,
That would be howl'd out in the defart air,
Where Hearing should not catch them.

Macd. What concern they ?
The gen'ral cause? or is it a fee grief,
Due to some single breast ?

Roffe. No mind, that's honest,
But in it shares some woe ; though the main part
Pertains to you

Macd. If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.

Rose. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
Which shall possess them with the heaviest Sound,
That ever yet they heard.

Macd. Hum! I guess at it.

Roffe. Your Castle is surpriz’d, your wife and babes
Savagely flaughter'd; to relate the manner,
Were on the Quarry of these murder'd deer
To add the death of

Mal. Merciful heav'n!
What, man! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows;
Give forrow words; the grief, that does not speak,
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.

Mlad My children too !
Roffe.Wise,children,servants,all that could be found.
Atacd. And I must be from thence! my wife kill'd
Roffe. I've said.

(too! Mal. Be comforted.


Let's make us med'cines of our great Revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.

Macd. He has no children -All my pretty ones ?
Did you say, all? what, all? oh, hell-kite ! all?
What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam,
At one fell swoop ?

Mal. Difpute it like a Man.

Macd. I shall do so: But I must also feel it as a Man. I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me: did heav'n look on, And would not take their part? finful Macduff, They were all struck for thee! naught that I am, Not for their own deinerils, but for mine, Fell Slaughter on their souls: heav'n rest them now!

Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword, let grief Convert to wrath : blunt not the heart, enrage it.

Macd. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes, And braggart with my tongue. But, gentle heav'n ! Cut short all intermission : front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; Within my swords length set him, if he 'scape, Then heav'n forgive him 100!

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 [may ? Put on their Instruments. Receive what cheer you The night is long that never finds the day. (Exeunt.


An Ante-chamber in Macbeth's Castle.
Enter a Dottor of Phyfic, and a Gentlewoman.


Have two nights watch'd with you, but can

perceive no truth in your report. When was it, she last walk'd ?


Gent. Since his Majesty went into the field, I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon't, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed ; Yet all this while in a most fast sleep.

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

Gent. That, Sir, which I will not report after her. Doet. 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 alleep; observe her, stand close.

Do&t. How came she by that light?

Gent. Why, it stood by her: the has light by her continually, 'tis her command.

Do&t. You see, her eyes are open.
Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut.

Dod. What is it she does now ? look, how she rubs her hands.

Gent. It is an accustom'd Adion 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.

Dott. Hark, she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to fortify my remembrance the more strongly.

Lady. Out! damned spot; out, I say --one; two ; why then, 'tis time to do'--hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afraid? what need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power

* to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.] Both the Sense and Expression require we thould read, to fortify my Remembrance. Iarb,



- no

to account ?-yet who would have thought the old man to have so much blood in him ?

Do&t. Do you mark that ?

Lady. The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is the now; what, will these hands ne'er be clean?more o’that, my lord, no more o' that: you mar all with this starting.

Do&t. Go to, go to ; you have known what you should not.

Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I am sure of that : heav'n knows, what she has known.

Lady. Here's the smell of the blood ftill :- all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh ! oh! oh !

Do&t. What a sigh is there ? the heart is forely charg’d.

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.

Doft. This disease is beyond my practice: yet I have known those which have walk'd in their sleep, 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.

Dost. Even so ?

Lady. To bed, to bed ; there's knocking at the gate: come, come, come, come, give me your hand : wliat's done, cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed.

Exit Lady. Dott. Will she go now to bed ? Gent. Directly Dott. Foul whisp’rings are abroad ; unnat'ral deeds Do breed unnat'ral troubles. Infected minds To their deaf pillows will discharge their Secrets. More needs the the Divine, than the Physician. God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;

« הקודםהמשך »