That follow'd me so near, (O, our lives sweetness !
That we the pain of death would hourly bear,
Rather than die at once) taught me to shift
Into a mad-man's rags; t'assume a semblance,
The very dogs disdain'd: and in this habit
Met I my father with his bleeding rings,
Their precious gems new lost; became his guide,
Led him, begg'd for him, fav'd him from defpair;
Never (O, fault!) reveal'd myself unto him,
Until some half hour past, when I was arm'd,
Not fure, tho' hoping of this good success,
I afk'd his blessfing, and from first to last
Told him my pilgrimage. But his flaw'd heart,
Alack, too weak the conflict to support,
'Twixt two extremes of passion, joy and grief,
Burst smilingly.

Baft. This speech of yours hath mov'd me,
And shall, perchance, do good; but speak you on,
You look, as you had fomething more to say.

Alb. If there be more, more woful, hold it in,
For I am almost ready to diffolve,

Hearing of this.

Edg.-(26) This would have seem'd a period, To fuch as love not forrow: but another,

1

1

To

(26) This, &c.] The bastard, whose savage nature is well difplay'd by it, defires to hear more: the gentle Albany, touch'd at the sad tale, begs him no more to melt his heart; upon which, Edgar observes, sensibly affected by Edmund's inhumanity, "One should have imagined, this would have feem'd a period, a fufficient end of woe, to such as love not forrow, who are not pleased to hear of the distresses of others: butanother [a person of another and more cruel temper] to amplify too much, [to augment and aggravate that which is already too great would ftill make much more [would still increase it] and top extremity itself; that is, even go beyond that which is already at the utmost limit." No thing can be plainer than this, which Mr. Warburton condemning as miserable nonfenfe, reads thus, and admits into his text!

To amplify too much, would make much more,
And top extremity!

Whilft I was big in clamour, there came a man,
Who having seen me in my worser state,
Shunn'd my abhorr'd society; but now finding
Who 'twas, had so endur'd, with his strong arms
He fasten'd on my neck; and bellow'd out,
As he'd burst heaven; threw him on my father;
Told the most piteous tale of Lear and him,
That ever ear receiv'd; which in recounting
His grief grew puissant, and the strings of life
Began to crack.- Twice then the trumpets founded.
And there I left him traunc'd.-

This wou'd have seem'd a period; but fuch
As love to amplify anothers forrow,

Too much, wou'd make much more and top extremity!

'Tis remarkable, this fine speech, (and indeed many others) are omitted in the Oxford edition.

That look not like th' inhabitants o'th' earth,
And yet are on't? Live you, or are you aught
That man may question? You seem to understand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips; - You should be women;
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret,
That you are so.

(1) Wbat, &c.] Shakespear's excellence in these fictitious characters hath been before observed: See Vol. 1. p. 77. n. 5. In fuch circles, indeed, none could move like him; ghosts, witches, and fairies seem to acknowledge him their fovereign. We must observe, that the reality of witches was firmly believed in our author's time, not only establish'd by law, but by fashion also, and that it was not only unpolite but criminal, to doubt it and as hath been remarked, upon this general infatuation, Shakespear might be easily allowed to found a play, especially fince he has followed with great exactness such histories as were then thought true: nor can it be doubted, that the scenes of enchantment, however they may now be ridiculed, were both by himself and his audience thought awful and affecting." See Miscellaneous observations on Macbeth, by Mr. S. Johnson, (note the first) printed for Ed. Cave, 1745. Otway's celebrated description of the witch in his Orphan, is fo univerfally known, I omit quoting it here.

SCENE

:

:

SCENE VII. Macbeth's Temper.

Yet do I fear thy nature;

It is too full o' th' milk of hunan kindness,

To catch the nearest way.

:

Thou wouldst be great;

Art not without ambition; but without

The illness should attend it. What thou wouldst highly,

That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,

And yet wouldst wrongly win.

:

Lady Macbeth, on the News of Duncan's approach.

(2) The raven himself is hoarse,

That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, all you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me, from the crown to th' toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty; make thick my blood,
Stop up th' access and passage to remorse:
That no compunctious visitings of nature

4

Shake my fell purpose, (3) nor keep peace between

(2) The Raven, &c.] It is said in the speech which precedes this, that the messenger, who brought the news

Almost dead for breath had scarcely more,

Than would make up his message.

1

Him the queen most beautifully calls the Raven. With this clue the reader will easily enter into the fenfe of the passage, and see the absurdity of any alteration.-By mortal thoughts is meant deftructive, deadly, &c.----In which sense mortal is frequently used.

(3) Nor keep, &c.] Mr. Johnson is of opinion, that no sense at all is expreft by the present reading, and therefore he proposes keep pace between the passage seems clear to me, and the sense as fol lows: grant that no womanish tenderness, no compunctious visitings of nature, no stings of conscience, may shake my fell purpose, may defeat my design, and keep peace between it and the effect, that is, keep my purpose from being executed," which is most aptly expreft by a peace between them, which the remorse of her mind, the stings of her confcience were to be the occafion of her keeping. Th' effect

Th' effect and it. Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gaul, you murth'ring ministers!
Wherever in your sightless substances

You wait on nature's mischief-Come, thick night!
And pall thee in the dunnest smoak of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes;
Nor heav'n peep through the blanket of the dark,
To cry, hold, hold!

SCENE IX. Macbeth's Irresolution.

1.

If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly: if th' afsassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With its furcease success; that but this blow
Might be the be-all, and the end allHere,
But here upon this bank and (4) shoal of time,
We'd jump the life to come. But, in thefe cafes,
We still have judgment here, that we but teach
Bloody instructions; which, being taught, return
To plague th' inventor. Even-handed justice
Returns th' ingredients of our poifon'd chalice
To our own lips. He's here in double truft:
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both against the deed: (5) then, as his hoft,
Who should against his murd'rer shut the door,
Not bear the knife my self. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been

(4) Shoal.] Others read she've.

:

(5) Then ar, &c.] This is quite classical: hospitality was held so facred amongst the ancients, that the Chief of their gods was dignified with the title of hospitable. Ζευς Ξενιος, Jupiter Hofpitalis. The writings of the ancients abound with this noble principle, and hofpitality is mentioned with honour in them all: this amongst a thousand other proofs, thews Shakespear to have been no stranger to the works of antiquity.

So