Where hearing should not latch them*. Macd. What concern they? The general cause, or is it a fee-grief, Rosse. No mind that's honest But in it shares some woe, though the main part Pertains to you alone. Macd. If it be mine, Keep it not from me; quickly let me have it. Rosse. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound, That ever yet they heard. Macd. Humph! I guess at it. Rosse. Your castle is surpris'd; your wife, and babes, Savagely slaughter'd: to relate the manner, Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer", To add the death of you. Merciful heaven! Mal. should not LATCH them.] To "latch," (in the north country dialect,) Steevens informs us, signifies the same as to catch. It has the same meaning in Norfolk, as we find from Holloway's "General Provincial Dictionary.” 1838. 5 — fee-grief,] A grief that has a single owner. 6 Were, on the QUARRY of these murder'd deer,] A "quarry was a heap of dead game. See Vol. vi. p. 147. 7 Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.] The following is from Montaigne's Essays, by Florio, b. i. ch. 2, a work of which it is known Shakespeare had a copy, and of which he certainly elsewhere made use :-" All passions that may be tasted and digested are but mean and slight. "Cura leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent. "Light cares can freely speake, Great cares heart rather breake." Mal. Be comforted: Let's make us medicines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief. Macd. He has no children.-All my pretty ones? Did you say, all?-O, hell-kite!-All? What, all my pretty chickens, and their dam, Mal. Dispute it like a man. Macd. But I must also feel it as a man: I shall do so; I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me.-Did heaven look on, They were all struck for thee. Naught that I am, Heaven rest them now! Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. Macd. O! I could play the woman with mine eyes, And braggart with my tongue.-But, gentle Heavens, Cut short all intermission; front to front, Bring thou this fiend of Scotland, and myself; Mal. This tune goes manly. Come, go we to the king: our power is ready; Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may; The night is long that never finds the day. [Exeunt. 8 This TUNE goes manly.] The folios read, time, which Rowe altered to 66 tune." Time could here scarcely be right, even were we to take for granted Gifford's statement (Massinger, vol. ii. p. 261.), that time and tune were, of old, used indifferently. No misprint could be more easy than time for tune, and cice versú; and perhaps none was more frequently committed. ACT V. SCENE I. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a waiting Gentlewoman'. Doct. I have two nights watched with you, but can perceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked? 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 it, 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 slumbery 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 eyes are open. • Enter a Doctor of Physic, and a waiting Gentlewoman.] This is the old stage-direction, but the English "Doctor" introduced in the last scene with Malcolm and Macduff must also have been a Doctor of Physic, though not so described in the old editions. Gent. Ay, but their sense is shut'. Doct. What is it she does now? Look, how she rubs her hands. Gent. It is an accustomed action with her to seem thus washing her hands: I have known her continue in this a quarter of an hour. Lady M. 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 M. Out, damned spot! out, I say!- One ; two why, then 'tis time to do't.-Hell is murky!— Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard? 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 am 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,— 1 Ay, but their sense is shut.] Surely it is not necessary to retain the false concord of "their sense are shut." We should have made an amendment of this description silently, had not Malone endeavoured to justify the printer's error, because perhaps Steevens had corrected it. 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 night-gown; look not so pale.-I tell you yet again, Banquo's buried: he cannot come out on's grave. Doct. Even so? Lady M. 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. [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. Good night, good doctor. SCENE II. The Country near Dunsinane. Enter, with Drum and Colours, MENTETH, CAthness, ANGUS, LENOx, and Soldiers. Ment. The English power is near, led on by Malcolm, 'My mind she has MATED,] i. e. Astonished, confounded. The word has occurred several times before in the same sense. See Vol. ii. p. 142; and Vol. v. p. 159. |