Rosse. You know not, Whether it was his wisdom, or his fear. L. Macd. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, His mansion, and his titles, in a place From whence himself does fly? He loves us not; I pray you, school yourself: But, for your husband, He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows The fits o'the season." I dare not speak much further: And do not know ourselves; when we hold rumoure Each way, and move."-I take my leave of you: Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. I take my leave at once. [Exit RossE. L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead; natural touch:] Natural sensibility. He is not touched with natural affection.-JOHNSON. a The fits o'the season,] What is most fitting to be done in every conjuncture. when we are traitors, b And do not know ourselves ;] When we are considered by the state as 、traitors, while at the same time we are unconscious of guilt. C hold rumour— -] i. e. Believe rumour. a Each way, and move-] There is here evidently some great typographical error. Mr. Steevens would read, "And each way move."-The alteration would be more bold, but I should prefer reading," As each wave moves.” e Sirrah,] This word was not in our author's time always used as a term of reproach; as it is at present. L. Macd. What, with worms and flies? L. Macd. Poor bird! thou'dst never fear the net, nor The pit-fall, nor the gin. [lime, Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. My father is not dead, for all your saying. L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father? Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. L. Macd. Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet i'faith, With wit enough for thee. Son. Was my father a traitor, mother? L. Macd. Ay, that he was. Son. What is a traitor? L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies. 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 enough 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.f in your state of honour I am perfect.] i. e. I am perfectly acquainted with your rank and honour.-STEEVENS. I doubt, some danger does approach you nearly: Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you L. Macd. I have done no harm. [Exit Messenger. Whither should I fly? But I remember now I am in this earthly world; where, to do harm, To say, 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. Mur. Son. Thou ly'st, thou shag-ear'd villain. Mur. He's a traitor. Run away, I pray you. [Dies. Young fry of treachery? Son. [Exit Lady MACDUFF, crying murder, and pursued by Murderers. SCENE III. England. A Room in the King's Palace. Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF. Mal. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there Weep our sad bosoms empty. Macd. Let us rather Hold fast the mortal sword; and, like good men, shag-car'd-] Mr. Steevens thinks we should read shag-hair'd, an abusive epithet very frequently used in the old plays. Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: Each new morn, As if it felt with Scotland, and yell'd out Mal. What I believe, I'll wail; What know, believe; and, what I can redress, What you have spoken, it may be so, perchance. 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. Mal. But Macbeth is. 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 brighest fell: Though all things foul" would wear the brows of grace, grace must still look so. Yet 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, h birthdom:] Nares, in his Glossary, interprets this word in the sense of birthright; but from the context, it appears to mean the land of our birth. to friend,] i. e. To befriend. i k and wisdom-] That is, and 'tis wisdom. A good and virtuous nature may rocoil, In an imperial charge.] A good mind may recede from goodness in the execution of a royal commission.-JOHNSON. m Though all things foul, &c.] This is not very clear. The meaning is this: My suspicions cannot injure you, if you be virtuous, by supposing that a traitor may put on your virtuous appearance. I do not say that your virtuous appearance proves you a traitor; for virtue must wear its proper form, though that form be counterfeited by villainy.-JOHNSON. n Why in that rawness-] Without previous provision, without due preparation, without maturity of counsel.-JOHNSON. Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, But mine own safeties :-You may be rightly just, Macd. Bleed, bleed, poor country! Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, For goodness dares not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs, I would not be the villain that thou think'st Mal. Be not offended: I speak not as in absolute fear of you. Macd. What should he be? Mal. It is myself I mean: in whom I know That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth With my confineless harms. Macd. 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, confirmed. affeer'd!] A law term for confirm'd. It is the title of tyranny that is |