Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; ACT V. SC. 1. LADY MACBETH'S SOMNAMBULISM. Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a Gentlewoman. Doct. I 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. Doct. A great perturbation in nature! to receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the effects of watching. In this slumb'ry agitation, besides 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. Doct. 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 asleep. Observe her, stand close. Doct. How came she by that light? Gent. Why, it stood by her. She has light by her continually; 'tis her command. Doct. You see her oyes are open. Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut. Doct. What is it she does now? Look how she 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, she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly. Lady. Out! damned spot; out, I say-One, two; why, then 'tis time to do't- -Hell is murky. Fy, my Lord, fy! a soldier, and afeared? 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 so much blood in him? Doct. Do you mark that? Lady. The Thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now? What! will these hands ne'er be clean ?-No more o' that, my Lord, no more o' that you mar all with this starting. Doct. 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 still; all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh! oh! oh! Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is sorely 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. Doct. 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 so pale. I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his grave. Doct. Ev'n so? 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.1 [Exit Lady. Doct. Will she go now to bed? ACT V. SC. 5. THE APPROACH OF MACBETH'S FATE. Macbeth. Hang out our banners on the outward walls: The cry is still, they come. Our castle's strength Will laugh a siege to scorn. Here let them lie, Till famine and the ague eat them up. Were they not 'forc'd with those that should be ours, Seyton. It is the cry of women, my good Lord. Macb. She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word.3 Lady Macbeth's ferocious strength of character represses her external appearance of remorse, except when sleep deprives her will of control: Macbeth's softer nature is unable to conceal its exhibition in his waking hours. See "the Banquet," p. 100. 2 Re-enforced. 3 Intelligence. ⚫ Destined or limited by Providence. And all our yesterdays have lighted fools Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Enter a Messenger. Thou com'st to use thy tongue. Thy story-quickly. I should report that which, I say, I saw, Macb. Well, say it, Sir. Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, Macb. Liar, and slave! [Striking him. Mess. Let me endure your wrath if't be not so: Macb. If thou speak'st false, Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, I care not if thou dost for me as much. -I pull in resolution, and begin To doubt th' equivocation of the fiend, That lies like truth. Fear not, till Birnam-wood And wish the state o' th' world were now undone. FROM KING RICHARD II. ACT III. SC. 4. RICHARD'S DESPAIR. Of comfort no man speak! Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs, "The dust of death."-Psalm xxii. 15.-Steevens. 2 See note 5, p. 15. Save our deposéd bodies to the ground? To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks; Bores through his castle-wall, and-farewell king! ACT V. SC. 3. YORK'S CONTRAST of BOLINGBROKE AND RICHARD. York and his Duchess. Duch. My Lord, you told me you would tell the rest, Of our two cousins coming into London. York. Where did I leave? Duch. At that sad stop, my Lord, Where rude misgovern'd hands, from window tops, Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head. York. Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke, Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know, With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course; For mould; that earth which, closing upon the body, takes its form."-Johnson. Model might mean here simply the bodily flesh. 2 The fool of the old farces.-See note 1, p. 86. 3 These humours or dispositions being thus formed in him. * Some read addition, that is, title of honour.-See note 3, p. 92. 5 In all respects resembling a subject. While all tongues cry'd, God save thee, Bolingbroke ! Duch. Alas! poor Richard, where rides he the while? After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes That had not God, for some strong purpose steel'd FROM SECOND PART OF HENRY IV. ACT III. SC. 1. HENRY'S SOLILOQUY ON SLEEP. How many thousands of my poorest subjects Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, Under the canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody? O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile In loathsome beds, and leav'st the kingly couch 1 The alarm of danger was communicated by the watchman in garrison towns by a bell. "He had a case or box to shelter him from the weather."-Hanmer. |