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And pour'd them down before him.
Ang. We are fent,

To give thee, from our royal master, thanks;
Only to herald thee into his fight,

Not pay thee.

Roffe. And for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee Thane of Cawdor:
In which addition, hail, most worthy Thane!
For it is thine.

Ban. What, can the devil speak true ?
Macb. The Thane of Cawdor lives;
Why do you dress me in his borrow'd robes ?
Ang. Who was the Thane, lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life,
Which he deferves to lose. Whether he was
Combin'd with Norway, or did line the rebel
With hidden help and vantage; or that with both
He labour'd in his country's wrack, I know not:
But treasons capital, confess'd, and prov'd,
Have overthrown him.

Mach. Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor!
The greatest is behind. Thanks for your pains.

Do you not hope, your children shall be Kings ?

[Afide.

[To Angus.

[To Banquo.

When those, that gave the Thane of Caudor to me,
Promis'd no less to them?

Ban. That trusted home,

Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,
Befides the Thane of Cawdar. But 'tis strange :
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness tell us truths,

Win us with honest trifles, to betray us

In deepest consequence.

Coufins, a word, I pray you.

Macb. Two truths are told,

[To Rosse and Angus.

[Afide.

As happy prologues to the swelling act

Of the imperial theme. I thank you, gentlemen

This fupernatural folliciting

Cannot be ill; cannot be good. If ill,

Why hath it giv'n me earnest of fuccess,
Commencing in a truth? I'm Thane of Cawdor.
If good; why do I yield to that suggestion,
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair,
And make my feated heart knock at my ribs
Against the use of nature? present feats (9)
Are less than horrible imaginings.

My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,
Shakes fo my fingle state of man, that function
Is smother'd in surmise; and nothing is,

But what is not.

Ban. Look, how our partner's rapt!

Mach. If chance will have me King, why, chance may

crown me,

Without my fstir.

Ban. New honours, come upon him,

(9)

--prefent fears

[Afide.

Are less than borrible imaginings.] Macbeth, while he is projecting

the murder, which he afterwards puts in execution, is thrown into the most agonizing affright at the profpect of it: which soon recovering from, thus he reasons on the nature of his disorder. But imaginings are so far from being more or less than present fears, that they are the fame things under different words. Shakespeare certainly

wrote;

Are less than horrible imaginings.

present feats

i. e. When I come to execute this murder, I shall find it much less dreadful than my frighted imagination now presents it to me. A confideration drawn from the nature of the imagination. Mr. Warburton. Macbeth, speaking again of this murder in a subsequent scene, uses the very fame term;

I'm fettled, and bend up

Each corp'ral agent to this terrible feat.

And it is a word, elsewhere, very familiar with our poet. I'll only add, in aid of my friend's correction, that we meet with the very same sentiment, which our poet here advances, in OVID's Epistles;

Terror in bis ipso major folet effe periclo.

Paris Helenæ. ver. 349. And it is a maxim with Machiavel, that many things are more fear'd afar off, than near at hand. E fono molte cose che discosto paiono terribili, infopportabili, ftrani; & quando ti appressi loro, le riescono bumane, sopportabili, domeftiche. Et pero fi dice, che fono maggiori spaventi che i mali, Mandragola, Atto. 3. Sc. 11. Like

N4

tu

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Like our ftrange garments cleave not to their mould,
But with the aid of use.

Mach. Come what come may,

Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.
Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we ftay upon your leifure.
Mach. Give me your favour: mydull brain was wrought

With things forgot. Kind gentlemen, your pains
Are registred where every day I turn
The leaf to read them-Let us tow'rd the King;
Think, upon what hath chanc'd; and at more time,

[To Banquo.

(The Interim having weigh'd it,) let us speak
Our free hearts each to other.
Ban. Very gladly.

Mach. "Till then enough: come, friends.

SCENE changes to the Palace.

[Exeunt.

Flourish. Enter King, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lenox, and

King

Attendants.

S execution done on Carudor yet?
Or not those in commiffion yet return'd?

Mal. My liege,

They are not yet come back. But I have spoke
With one that saw him die; who did report,
That very frankly he confefs'd his treasons;
Implor'd your Highness' pardon, and fet forth
A deep repentance; nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it. He dy'd,
As one, that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he own'd,
As 'twere a careless trifle.

King. There's no art,

To find the mind's construction in the face :
He was a gentleman, on whom I built

An abfolute truft.

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Roffe, and Angus.

O worthiest Coufin!

The fin of my ingratitude e'en now

Was

Was heavy on me. Thou'rt so far before, (10)
That swifteft wing of recompence is flow,
To overtake thee. Would thou'dit less deserv'd,.
That the proportion both of thanks and payment.
Might have been mine! only I've left to say,

- More is thy due, than more than all can pay..
Mach. The service and the loyalty I owe,.
In doing it, pays itself. Your Highness' part
Is to receive our duties; and our duties (11)
Are to your throne, and state, children and servants;
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing
Safe tow'rd your love and honour..

1

King. Welcome hither :

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour
To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,,
Thou hast no less deserv'd, and must be known
No less to have done so: let me enfold thee,

And hold thee to my heart..

Ban. There if I grow,

The harvest is your own.

King. My plenteous joys,

Wanton, in fulness, seek to hide themselves

(10) Thou art fo far before,

That swifteft wind of recompence is flaw

To overtake thee.] Thus the editions by Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope:: whether for any reason, or purely by chance, I cannot determine.. I have chose the reading of the more authentick copies, Wing.

We meet with the fame metaphor again in Troilus and Creffida..

But his evasion, wing'd thus swift with scorn,

Cannot outfly our apprehenfion.

(11)

and our duties

Are to your throne and state, children and fervantsi
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing

Safe towards your love and honour.): This may be sense; but,, I own
it gives me no very fatisfactory idea: And tho' I have not disturb'd
the text, I cannot but embrace in iny mind the conjecture of my
ingenious friend Mr. Warburton, who would read;

--by doing every thing,

Fiefs towards your love and honour.

i.e. We hold our duties to your throne, &c. under an obligation of doing every thing in our power: as we hold our Fiefs, (feuda) those: estates and tenures, which we have on the terms of homage and fer

vices.

In drops of forrow. Sons, kinsmen, Thanes,
And you whose Places are the nearest, know,
We will establish our Estate upon

Our eldeft Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must,

Not unaccompanied, invest him only;

But figns of Nobleness, like stars, shall shine

On all defervers.

Hence to Inverness,

And bind us further to you.

Mach. The rest is labour, which is not us'd for you;

I'll be myself the harbinger, and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So humbly take my leave.

King. My worthy Cawdor!

'Mach. The Prince of Cumberland!-that is a step,

On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap,

For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep defires:
The eye wink at the hand! yet let that be,

Which the eye fears, when it is done, to fee.

[Afide

[Exit.

King. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant;

And in his commendations I am fed;

It is a banquet to me. Let us after him,
Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome:
It is a peerless kinsman.

L

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE, changes to an Apartment in Macbeth's Castle, at Inverness.

Enter Lady Macbeth alone, with a letter.

Lady. T

HEY met me in the day of success, and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge. When I burnt in defire to question them further, they made themselves air, into which they vanished. While I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the King, who all-hail'd me Thane of Cawdor; by which title, before, these weird fifters Saluted me, and referr'd me to the coming on of time, with hail, King that shalt be! This have I thought good to deliver

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