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L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.

Son. And must they all be hanged, that swear and lie?
L. Macd. Every one.
Son. Who must hang them?
L. Macd. Why, the honest men.

Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools; for there are liars and swearers enow to beat the honest men, and hang up them.

L. Macd. Now God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father?

Son. If he were dead, you'd weep for him: if you would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father. L. Macd. Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!

Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Bless you, fair dame. I am not to you known,
Though in your state of honour I am perfect.
I doubt, some danger does approach you nearly :
If you will take a homely man's advice,
Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks I am too savage,
To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer.

[Exit Messenger. L. Macd.

Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm; but I remember now
I am in this earthly world, where, to do harm
Is often laudable; to do good sometime
Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas!
Do I put up that womanly defence,

I have done no harm ?_ What are these faces ?

Enter Murderers.
Mur. Where is your husband ?

L. Macd. I hope, in no place so unsanctified,
Where such as thou may'st find him.

He's a traitor.
Son. Thou liest, thou shag-ear'd villain.

3 Thou liest, thou shag-Ear'd villain.] i. e. A villain who is shaggy about the ears, by reason of his long hair. Such (and not shag-hair’d) is the word in all the old copies, and we decline to make any alteration.


What, you egg, [Stabbing him. Young fry of treachery? Son.

He has kill'd me, mother: Run away, I pray you.

[Exit Lady MACDUFF, crying “Murder," and

pursued by the Murderers.

[Dies .


England. A Room in the King's Palace.


Mal. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there
Weep our sad bosoms empty.

Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men
Bestride our down-fall’n birthdom'. Each new morn,
New widows howl, new orphans cry; new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland, and yell’d out
Like syllable of dolour.

What I believe, I'll wail;
What know, believe; and what I can redress,
As I shall find the time to friend, I will:
What you have spoke, it may be so, perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
Was once thought honest : you have lov'd him well;
He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but something
You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom
To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb
To appease an angry god.

Macd. I am not treacherous.

But Macbeth is.

* Dies.] There is no such stage-direction in the old copies, which, after this speech by the son, have only “Exit, crying murder;" but the meaning probably is, that only Lady Macduff goes out exclaiming, leaving the boy dead. She is, of course, followed by the assassins.

Bestride our dowN-FALL’n birthdom.] The old copies have down-fall. * You may DESERVE] The folios read discerne, which Theobald corrected : still the construction is defective, and we might read “ 'tis wisdom,” &c.

A good and virtuous nature may recoil,
In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon:
That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose;
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell :
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,

must still look so. Macd.

I have lost my hopes.
Mal. Perchance, even there, where I did find my doubts.
Why in that rawness left you wife, and child,
Those precious motives, those strong knots of love,
Without leave-taking ?-I pray you,
Let not my jealousies be your

But mine own safeties : you may be rightly just,
Whatever I shall think.

Bleed, bleed, poor country !
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dares not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs;
The title is affeer'd' !-Fare thee well, lord :
I would not be the villain that thou think'st,
For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,
And the rich East to boot..

Be not offended :
I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash
Is added to her wounds: I think, withal,
There would be hands uplifted in my right;
And here, from gracious England, have I offer
Of goodly thousands; but, for all this, [Showing a paper.
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
Shall have more vices than it had before,
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever,
By him that shall succeed.

What should he be ?
Mal. It is myself I mean; in whom I know
All the particulars of vice so grafted,

7 The title is AFFEER'D!] The old copies spell the law term, “affeer'd," affeared. To affeer, in the proceedings of manor courts, is to confirm ; and the meaning of the whole passage is,—"Great tyranny, be thou confident, for goodness dares not oppose thee: do what wrong thou wilt, thy title is confirmed.” Perhaps we ought also to substitute Thy for “The," although the change is not made in the corr. fo. 1632.

That, when they shall be open'd', black Macbeth
Will seem as pure as snow; and the poor state
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd
With my confineless harms.

Not in the legions
Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
In evils to top Macbeth.

I grant him bloody,
Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
That has a name; but there's no bottom, none,
In my voluptuousness : your wives, your daughters,
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The cistern of my lust; and my desire
All continent impediments would o'er-bear,
That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth,
Than such a one to reign.

Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny: it hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne,
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is your's : you may
Enjoy your pleasures in a spacious plenty',
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink.
We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
That vulture in you to devour so many
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclin'd.

With this there grows,
In most ill-compos'd affection, such
A stanchless avarice, that, were I king,


That, when they shall be open'd,] Here we do not adopt an emendation, of a plausible character, in the corr. fo. 1632, viz. ripen'd for “open’d.” The use of the word “grafted” may have led the poet to carry on the figure by the use of the word ripen'd, as applied to the growing up of the vices of Malcolm to maturity. It is, however, questionable, and we adhere to the received text.

9 Enjoy your pleasures in a spacious plenty,) It is Convey your pleasures" in every impression from 1623 to the date of Mr. Singer's edition, where “ Enjoy” (the word in the corr. fo. 1632) is found in the place of it. Even of this important change he makes no acknowldgement, but his note is merely this: “The old copy has convey. The words were easily confounded in copying from old MS.” Hence the reader might infer that the change was the result of the unassisted sagacity of Mr. Singer. No editor ever dreamed of the fitness of such a change, until it was announced as contained in our corr. fo. 1632 ; and surely, in common fairness (to Mr. Singer) it ought to have been acknowledged.

I should cut off the nobles for their lands;
Desire his jewels, and this other's house :
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more; that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.

This avarice
Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root,
Than summer-seeming lust'; and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings : yet do not fear;
Scotland hath foisons' to fill up your will,
your mere own.

All these are portable
With other graces weigh’d.

Mal. But I have none. The king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them ; but abound
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.

Oh Scotland, Scotland !
Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak :
I am as I have spoken.

Fit to govern!
No, not to live. -Oh, nation miserable !
With an untitled tyrant, bloody-scepter'd,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accurs'd,
And does blaspheme his breed ?—Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king: the queen, that bore thee,
Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she lived. Fare thee well.

1 Than SUMMER-SEEMING lust;] i.e. Probably for summer-beseeming." Warburton proposed to read, “summer-teeming;" but the change appears unnecessary. Blackstone recommended “summer-seeding," and Steevens took" summer-seeming lust” to mean, " lust that seems as hot as summer."

Scotland hath foisons] i. e. Plenty. It is generally used in the singular. We have had “teeming foison" in " Measure for Measure," A. i. sc. 5; which, in connexion with the next line but one above, may possibly give some warrant to " summer-teeming."

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