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 so much blood in him?

Doct. Do you mark that?

Lady M. 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 sure of that: Heaven knows what she has known.

Lady M. 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 charged.

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 walked in their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.

Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; look not so pale:-I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried; he cannot come out of his

Lady M. To bed, to bed; there's knocking at

to go to in consequence of such a deed,) and repeats his words in contempt of his cowardice.

you mar all with this starting.] Alluding to the terrors of Macbeth, when the Ghost broke in on the festivity of the banquet.

the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me your hand; What's done, cannot be undone: To bed, to bed, to bed. [Exit Lady MACBETH. Doct. Will she go now to bed?

Gent. Directly.

Doct. Foul whisperings are abroad: Unnatural deeds

Do breed unnatural troubles: Infected minds

To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. More needs she the divine, than the physician.

God, God, forgive us all! Look after her;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,
And still keep eyes upon her :-So, good night:
My mind she has mated," and amaz'd my sight:
I think, but dare not speak.

Gent.

Good night, good doctor. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Country near Dusinane.

Enter, with Drum and Colours, MENTETH, CATHNESS, ANGUS, LENOX, and Soldiers.

Ment. The English power is near, led on by
Malcolm,

His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff.
Revenges burn in them: for their dear causes
Would, to the bleeding, and the grim alarm,
Excite the mortified man."

Ang.

Near Birnam wood

My mind she has mated,] i. e. amated, dismayed. 'Excite the mortified man,] i. e. a religious, an ascetic.

Shall we well meet them; that way are they com

ing.

Cath. Who, knows, if Donalbain be with his

brother?

Len. For certain, sir, he is not: I have a file Of all the gentry; there is Siward's son, And many unrough youths, that even now Protest their first of manhood.

Ment.

8

What does the tyrant?

Cath. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies: Some say, he's mad; others, that lesser hate

him,

Do call it valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause
Within the belt of rule.

Ang.
Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands;
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach;
Those he commands, move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.

Ment.

Who then shall blame

His pester'd senses to recoil, and start,

When all that is within him does condemn
Itself, for being there?9

Cath.

Well, march on,

To give obedience where 'tis truly ow'd:
Meet we the medecin' of the sickly weal:
And with him pour we, in our country's purge,
Each drop of us.

8

Len.

Or so much as it needs,

unrough youths,] i. e. smooth-faced, unbearded.

9 When all that is within him does condemn

Itself, for being there?] That is, when all the faculties of the mind are employed in self-condemnation.

the medicin-1 i. e. physician.

To dew the sovereign flower, and drown the weeds. Make we our march towards Birnam.

[Exeunt, marching.

SCENE III.

Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle..

Enter MACBETH, Doctor, and Attendants.

Macb. Bring me no more reports; let them fly

all;

Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,

I cannot taint with fear. What's the boy Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman? The spirits that know
All mortal consequents, pronounc'd me thus:
Fear not, Macbeth; no man, that's born of woman,
Shall e'er have power on thee.Then fly, false
thanes,

And mingle with the English epicures :

The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sagg with doubt,2 nor shake with fear.

Enter a Servant.

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon!' Where got'st thou that goose look?

Serv. There is ten thousand

Macb.

Serv.

Geese, villain?
Soldiers, sir.

Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy

fear,

Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch?

Shall never sagg with doubt,] To sag, or swag, is to sink down by its own weight, or by an overload.

3 loon!] At present this word is only used in Scotland, and signifies a base fellow.

Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face?
Sero. The English force, so please you.

Macb. Take thy face hence.Seyton!-I am sick at heart,

When I behold-Seyton, I say!This push
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now.
I have liv'd long enough: my way of life
Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf:
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,
Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not.
Seyton !-

Enter SEYTON.

Sey. What is your gracious pleasure?
Macb.

What news more?

Sey. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was re

ported.

Macb. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hack'd

Give me my armour.

Sey.

Macb. I'll put it on.

"Tis not needed yet.

I am

4 I have liv'd long enough: my way of life, &c.] As there is no relation between the way of life, and fallen into the sear, inclined to think that the Wis only an M inverted, and that it was originally written:

my May of life.

I am now passed from the spring to the autumn of my days: but I am without those comforts that should succeed the sprightliness of bloom, and support me in this melancholy season.

The author has May in the same sense elsewhere. JOHNSON. This opinion, however, has been ably controverted by some of the commentators.

5 the sear,] Sear is dry.