So under fortune; which, you thought, had been
Our innocent felf; this I made good to you
In our last conf'rence, past in probation with you:
How you were borne in hand, how croft; the instruments,
Who wrought with them: and all things else, that might
To half a foul, and to a notion craz'd,

Say, thus did Banquo.

1 Mur. True, you made it known.

Mach. I did fo; and went further, which is now

Our point of second meeting. Do you find
Your Patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? are you so gospell'd,
To pray for this good man and for his ifsue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the Grave,
And beggar'd yours for ever?

I Mur. We are men, my liege.

Mach. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men, As hounds, and greyhounds, mungrels, spaniels, curs, Showghes, water-rugs, and demy-wolves are cleped All by the name of dogs; the valued file Diftinguishes the swift, the flow, the fubtle, The house-keeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous Nature Hath in him clos'd; whereby he does receive Particular addition, from the bill That writes them all alike: and so of men. Now, if you have a station in the file, And not in the worst rank of manhood, say it; And I will put that business in your bosoms, Whose execution takes your enemy off; Grapples you to the heart and love of us, Who wear our health but fickly in his life, Which in his death were perfect.

2 Mur. I am one,

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incens'd, that I am reckless what

I do, to spite the world.

1 Mur. And I another,

So weary with difasters, tugg'd with fortune,
That I would fet my life on any chance,

Dd 4

To

To mend it, or be rid on't.

Mach. Both of you

Know, Banquo was your enemy.
Mur. True, my lord.

Mach. So is he mine: and in such bloody distance,
That every minute of his Being thrusts
Against my near'st of life; and though I could
With bare-fac'd Power sweep him from my fight,
And bid my Will avouch it; yet I must not,
For certain friends that are both his and mine,
Whose loves I may not drop; but wail his Fall,
Whom I my self struck down: and thence it is,
That I to your assistance do make love,
Masking the business from the common eye
For fundry weighty reasons.

2 Mur. We shall, my lord, Perform what you command us. I Mur. Though our lives

Mach. Your spirits shine through you. In this hour, at

moft,

I will advise you where to plant your selves;
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o'th' time,
The moment on't; (for't must be done to night, (21)

And fomething from the Palace: always thought,

That I require a Clearness :) and with him,

(To

(21) for't must be done to Night,

And fomething from the Palace: always thought, That I require a Clearness; ) The latter Branch of this Sentence Mr. Роре has funk upon Us, in both his Editions, tho' it is authoriz'd by all the preceding Copies. If I may venture to guess at the Reason of his fuppreffing these Words, it was because he did not understand them: but Macbeth means, that the Murtherers must in every step remember, he requires not to be suspected of the Fact; to stand clear from all Imputations, which might affect him in the Opinions of People. I have frequently observ'd, how minutely Shakespeare is used to follow his History in little particular Circumftances. This is One signal Instance. Let us hear honest Holingshead (from whom he has copied this whole Tale) in his History of Scotland p. 172.-He willed therefore the fame Banquho with his Son named Fleance to come to a Supper that he had prepared for them; which was, indeed, as he bad devised, present Death at the hands of certain Murtherers whom be bired to execute that Deed; appointing them to meet with the Jame Banquho

and

(To leave no rubs nor botches in the Work)
Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
(Whose abfence is no less material to me,
Than is his father's) must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve your selves a-part,
I'll come to you anon.

Mur. We are resolv'd, my lord.

Mach. I'll call upon you straight; abide within.

[Exeunt Murtherers.

It is concluded; - Banquo, thy Soul's flight,
If it find heav'n, must find it out to night.

[Exit.

SCENE, another Apartment in the Palace.

Lady. I

Enter Lady Macbeth, and a Servant.

S Banquo gone from Court?

Serv. Ay, Madam, but returns again to night.

Lady. Say to the King, I would attend his leifure For a few words.

Serv. Madam, I will.

Lady. Nought's had, all's spent,

Where our defire is got without content: 'Tis safer to be That which we destroy, Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.

Enter Macbeth.

[Exit.

How now, my lord, why do you keep alone?
Of forriest fancies your companions making,
Using those thoughts, which should, indeed, have dy'd
With them they think on? things without all remedy
Should be without regard; what's done, is done.

Mach. We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it-(22) She'll close, and be herself; whilft our poor malice

Remains

and his Son without the Palace, as they returned to their Lodgings, and there to flea them, so that he would not have his House slandered; but that in time to come he might clear himself, if Any thing were laid to his Charge upon Any Suspicion that might arife.

(22) We have scorch'd the Snake, not kill'dit,

She'll close, and be herself; ) This is a Passage, which has all along paf

fed

Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let both worlds disjoint, and all things fuffer,
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep
In the affliction of these terrible Dreams,
That shake us nightly. Better be with the Dead,
(Whom we, to gain our Place, have fent to Peace,)
Than on the torture of the mind to lie

In restless ecstasie. - Duncan is in his Grave;
After life's fitful fever, he fleeps well;
Treason has done his worst; nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestick, foreign levy, nothing
Can touch him further!

Lady. Come on;

Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;
Be bright, and jovial, 'mong your guests to night.

Macb. So shall I, Love; and so, I pray, be you;
Let your remembrance still apply to Banquo.
Present him Eminence, both with eye and tongue:

1

sed current thro' the Editions, and yet, I dare affirm, is not our Author's Reading. What has a Snake, closing again, to do with its being scorch'd? Scorching would never either separate, or dilate, its Parts; but rather make them instantly contract and shrivel. SHAKESPEARE, I am very well perswaded, had this Notion in his head; that if you cut a Serpent or Worm asunder, in several Pieces, there is such an unctuous Quality in their Blood, that the dismember'd Parts, being only placed near enough to touch one another, will cement and become as whole as before the Injury receiv'd. The Application of this Thought is to Duncan, the murther'd King, and his surviving Sons. Macbeth considers them so much as Members of the Father, that thơ' he has cut off the Old Man, he would say, he has not entirely kill'd him, but he'll revive again in the Lives of his Sons. Can we doubt therefore but that the Poet wrote, as I have restor'd to the Text,

We have scotch'd the Snake, not kill'dit?

To fcotch, however the Generality of our Dictionaries happen to omit the Word, fignifies, to notch, flash, hack, cut, with Twigs, Swords, &c. and fo our Poet more than once has used it in his Works.

CORIOLANUS.

He was too hard for him directly, to say the Troth on't: Before Corioli, be scotch'd him, and notch'd him, like a Carbonado.

ANTONY and CLEOPATRA.

We'll beat 'em into Bench-holes : I have yet

Room for fix Scotches more.

I made this Emendation, when I publish'd my SHAKESPEAREitftor'd; and Mr. Pope has vouchsafed to embrace it in his last Edition.

Unfafe

1

1

Unsafe the while, that we must lave our honours
In these so flatt'ring streams, and make our faces
Vizors t'our hearts, disguising what they are!
Lady. You must leave this.
Mach. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife !
Thou know'st, that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.
Lady. But in them, Nature's copy's not eternal.
Mach. There's comfort yet, they are assailable;
Then, be thou jocund. Ere the Bat hath flown
His cloyster'd flight, ere to black Hecat's summons
The shard-born beetle with his drowsie hums
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done
A Deed of dreadful note.

Lady. What's to be done?

Mach. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, 'Till thou applaud the Deed: come, feeling Night, (23) Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond,

Which keeps me pale! Light thickens, and the Crow

Makes wing to th' rooky wood:

Good things of day begin to droop and drowze.
Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rowze,
Thou marvell'st at my words; but hold thee still;
Things, bad begun, make strong themselves by Ill :
So, pr'ythee, go with me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to a Park; the Castle at a dif

tance.

Enter three Murtherers.

UT who did bid thee join with us?
3 Mur. Macbeth.

I Mur.

B

(23)

come, fealing Night,

2 Mur.

Skarf up the tender Eye of pitiful day;] Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope, neither of them were aware of the Poet's Metaphor here, and so have blunder'd the Text into Nonsense. I have restor'd from the old Copies,