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What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
No, 'pray thee!
I must obey his art is of such power, (Aside.)
And make a vassal of him.
So, slave; hence!
Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands;
Courtsied when you have, and kiss'd
(The wild waves whist)
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Burthen. Bowgh, wowgh. (dispersedly)
The watch-dogs bark:
Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticlere
Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, or the earth?
It sounds no more;-and sure it waits upon
Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
Full fathom five thy father lies ;
Of his bones are coral made;
Nothing of him that doth fade,
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell ;
Hark! now I hear them,-ding, dong, bell.
Fer. The ditty does remember my drowned father,
What is 't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe, me, sir,
It carries a brave form :—but 'tis a spirit.
Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such senses As we have,-such. This gallant which thou seest,
Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st call him A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find them.
As my soul prompts it :-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee Within two days for this.
On whom these airs attend !-Vouchsafe, my prayer
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
But, certainly a maid.
No wonder, sir;
My language! heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan, And his brave son, being twain.
And his more braver daughter, could control thee,
1 The fringed curtains of thine eye advance.
Why Shakspeare should have condescended to the elaborate nothingness, not to say nonsense of this metaphor (for what is meant by advancing "curtains?") I cannot conceive; that is to say, if he did condescend; for it looks very like the interpolation of some pompous, declamatory player. Pope has put it into his treatise on the Bathos.
2" Myself am Naples."-This is a very summary and kingly style. Shakspeare is fond of it. "How, now, France?" says King John to King Philip, "I'm dying, Egypt!" says Antony to Cleopatra.
MACBETH AND THE WITCHES.
This scene fortunately comprises a summary of the whole subsequent history of Macbeth.
A dark Cave. In the middle, a Caldron boiling. Thunder.
1st Wi. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd,
2nd Wi. Thrice and once the hedge-pig whin'd,
In the caldron boil and bake :
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Witches' mummy; maw, and gulf,
Make the gruel thick and slab;
2nd Wi. Cool it with a baboon's blood.
Enter HECATE and the three other WITCHES
And every one shall share i' the gains,
And now about the caldron sing,
(Music and a Song, Black Spirits, &c.)
2nd Wi. By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes :— Open, locks, whoever knocks.
Mac. How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags, What is 't you do?
A deed without a name.
Mac. I conjure you, by that which you profess
(Howe'er you come to know it), answer me:
Though you untie the winds, and let them fight
Against the churches: though the yesty waves
Confound and swallow navigation up;
Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down;
Though palaces and pyramids do slope
Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
To what I ask you.
1st Wi. Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
Thunder. An Apparition of an armed Head rises.
He knows thy thought;
Hear his speech, but say thou naught.
Mac. Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution thanks;
Thunder. An Apparition of a bloody Child rises.3
Had I three ears, I'd hear thee
App. Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn The power of man, for none of woman born
Shall harm Macbeth.
Mac. Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
But yet I'll make assurance doubly sure,
And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live;
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
And sleep in spite of thunder.—What is this?
Thunder. An Apparition of a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand,
That rises like the issue of a king;
And wears upon his baby-brow the round
And top of sovereignty!
Listen, but speak not to 't.
App. Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are; Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be, until