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Confound and fwallow navigation up;
Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down,
Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
To what I ask you.
SCENE IV. Malcolm's Character of himself.
Mal. But I have none; the king becoming graces, As juftice, verity, temp'rance, ftalleness, Bounty, perfev'rance, mercy, lowlinefs, Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, I have no relish of them; but abound In the divifion of each feveral crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I fhould
All unity on earth.
Macd. Oh Scotland! Scotland!
Mal. If fuch a one be fit to govern, speak; I'm as I have spoken.
Macd. Fit to govern?
No, not to live. Oh, nation miferable,
(22) Dy'd every day fhe liv'd. Oh! fare thee well!
(21) See King Lear, p. 150. n. 16..
(22) Dy'd, &c.] This is plainly taken from St. Paul, I dia daily.
Thefe evils thou repeat'ft upon thyself,
Have banish'd me from Scotland. Oh, my breast!
Mal. Macduff, this noble paffion,
No lefs in truth than life: my first falfe-speaking
SCENE VI. An opprefs'd Country.
Alas, poor country!
Almost afraid to know itself! It cannot
Is there scarce aík'd, for whom: and good mens' lives
(13) See the whole scene..
Macduff, on the Murder of his Wife and Children.
Roffe. 'Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! but I have words,
Roffe. No mind, that's honeft,
But in it fhares fome woe; tho' the main part
Macd. If it be mine,
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
Macd. Hum! I guess at it.
Roffe. Your caftle is furpriz'd, your wife and babes
Mal. Merciful heav'n!
What man! ne'er pull your hat upon your
Macd My children too?
Roffe. Wife, children, fervants, all that could be found.
Mecd. And I must be from thence! my wife kill'd too!
Roffe. I've faid.
Mal. Be comforted.
Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge,
Macd. (24) He has no children.- All my pretty
Did you fay all? what, all? oh, hell-kite! all?
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,
Mal. Be this the whetstone of your fword, let grief
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;
Come, go we to the king, our power is ready;
Receive what cheer you
The night is long that never finds the day.
(24) He has, &c.] Nothing can be more natural than this reflection: the father's thoughts are wholly ingroffed by his misfortune, and difregarding what Malcolm fays to him, he burfts out into this pathetic exprobriation of the tyrant; Conftance, in King John fpeaks thus to Pandolph,
He talks to me that never had a fon!
ACT V. SCENE I.
Enter Lady Macbeth with a Taper.
Gent. Lo, you! here fhe comes! this is her very guife, and, upon my life, fast afleep; observe her, stand
Doct. How came fhe by that light?
Gent. Why, it flood by her: fhe 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 the rubs her hands.
Gent. It is an accustom❜d action with her, to seem 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 fpeaks. I will fet down what comes from her, to fatisfy my remembrance the more ftrongly.
Lady. Out! damned fpot; out, I fay-one; two; why then 'tis time to do't- hell is murky. Fy, my lord, fy, a foldier, and afraid? what need we fear who 'knows it, when none can call our power to account ?— yet who would have thought the old man to have had 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 alk with this ftarting.
Doct. Go to, go to, you have known what
Gent. She has fpoke what the fhould not, I am fure of that heaven knows, what she has known.
Lady. Here's the smell of the blood still: all the per