I think, with Mr. Steevens, that we should read, But who comes here? But I cannot agree with him as to Angus; I think it is clear that he should enter here with Rosse..

P.. 469.-274.-344..

2 Witch. I'll give thee a wind.

1 Witch. Thou art kind.

3 Witch. And I another.

1 Witch. I myself have all the other;

And the very ports they blow,

All the quarters that they know

I' the shipman's card.

This passage I do not understand, and much wish for an explanation of it. I do not know what the construction of it is.

Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence,
And pour'd them down before him.

I incline to admit Mr. Rowe's correction,

hail.

Macb.

P. 483.-287.-362.

Let us toward the king.

Think upon what hath chanc'd; and, at more time,

The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak

Our free hearts each to other.

I think Malone is right.

P. 491.-294.-372.

Lady M.
Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown'd withal.

I agree with Mr. Steevens. The passage is rightly explained by Warburton, but there is no need of any change. Sir William Davenant seems to have understood it as Warburton did, for his alteration is,

Which supernatural assistance seems
To crown thee with.

Lady M.

P. 492.-295.-373.

The raven himself is hoarse,

That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan

Under my battlements.

The present reading is right. But it is observable that Sir William Davenant appears to have supposed that the true reading was that which is proposed by Warburton, for his alteration stands thus:

"There would be musick in a raven's voice,

Which should but croak the entrance of the king
Under my
battlements."

P. 495.-296.-376.

Come to my woman's breasts,

And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,
Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief!

Dr. Johnson's is the true explanation.

P. 496.-298.—377.

Come, thick night,

And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell!
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, Hold, hold!

I think the objections in the Rambler to the words knife and dun are ill founded.

Dun.

P. 504.-301.-383.

See, see! our honour'd hostess !

The love that follows us, sometime is our trouble,
Which still we thank as love.

I rather take the meaning to be, the attention that is paid us is sometimes troublesome to us. So Sir William Davenant appears to have understood it; his alteration is,

By loving us, some persons cause our trouble.

Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,-
We'd jump the life to come.

Shoal is indisputably right.

P. 508.-309.-394.

Lady M.
I have given suck; and know
How tender 'tis, to love the babe that milks me:
I would, while it was smiling in my face,
Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,
And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn, as you
Have done to this.

I think the reading of the second folio is right.

Macb.
Lady M.

Ibid.

If we should fail,—

We fail!

Mr. Steevens's note is very ingenious; but I think the old punctuation is right.

Macb.

P. 511.-314.-398.

I am settled, and bend up
Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.

Those who regard the waverings of Macbeth, as unnatural and contradictory, are not worthy the name of criticks. In my opinion, they constitute one of the greatest excellencies of this play. Such tasteless objections deserved not the answer which Mr. Steevens has condescended to give them.

Ban.

P. 513.-316.-401.

The king's a-bed:
He hath been in unusual pleasure, and
Seut forth great largess to your offices.

I believe officers is the right word. The officers of Macbeth's household are here meant, not the military commanders, who served under him. Sir William Davenant's alteration is this:

He to your servants has been bountiful,

P. 519.-322.-408.

and wither'd murder,

Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,

Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace,
With Tarquin's ravishing sides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost.

I believe strides is the right word.

P. 522.-324.-412.

Thou sure and firm-set earth,

Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear

Thy very stones prate of my where-about,

And take the present horror from the time,

Which now suits with it.

Take is the right word, and is rightly explained

by Mr. Steevens.

P. 526.-329.-418.

Sleep no more!

Macbeth does murder sleep, the innocent sleep;
Sleeep, that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath.

Steevens is right.

Macb.

P. 529.-331.-421.

No; this my hand will rather

The multitudinous seas incarnardine,
Making the green-one red.

By this epithet I conceive the poet intended to denote the immensity of the sea, the waves of which are certainly multitudinous, and by this hyperbolically to express the extreme difficulty of washing the blood from his hand. Mr. Steevens is right, and I think the criticism of the rhetorical commentator, and that of Mr. Malone, both fall to the ground. I entirely and heartily agree with Mr. Malone as to the modern regulation of "the green-one red."

Len.

P. 535.-340.-431.

Where we lay,

Our chimneys were blown down: and, as they say,
Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death;
And prophecying, with accents terrible,

Of dire combustion, and confus'd events,

New hatch'd to the woeful time. The obscure bird
Clamour'd the livelong night.

I agree with Mr. Steevens.

Macd.

P. 536.-342.-434.

Malcolm Banquo!

As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprights,
To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.

Ring the bell I take to be only a marginal direction, for the reasons given by Mr. Malone.