--Whouldst thou have that,
Which then esteem'st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem?]
In this there seems to be no reasoning. I should read,
Or _live a coward in thine own esteem_?
Unless we choose rather,
--_Wouldst thou_ leave _that_.
I.vii.45 (431,2) Like the poor cat i' the adage?] The adage alluded to
is, _The cat loves fish, but dares not wet her feet, Catus amat pisces,
sed men vult tingere plantas_.
I.vii.64 (432,5) Will I with wine and wassel so convince] To _convince_
is in Shakespeare to _overpower_ or _subdue_, as in this play,
--_Their malady_ convinces
_The great assay of art_.
I.vii.67 (433,6) A limbeck only] That is, shall be only a vessel to emit
_fumes_ or _vapours_.
I.vii.71 (433,7) our great quell] _Quell_ is _murder_. _manquellers_
being in the old language the term for which _murderers_ is now used.
II.i (434,8) _Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a torch before him_] The
place is not mark'd in the old edition, nor is it easy to say where this
encounter can be. It is not in the _hall_, as the editors have all
supposed it, for Banquo sees the sky; it is not far from the bedchamber,
as the conversation shews: it must be in the inner court of the castle,
which Banquo might properly cross in his way to bed.
II.i.25 (435,2) If you shall cleave to my consent, Then 'tis,/It shall
make honour for you] Macbeth expressed his thought with affected
obscurity; he does not mention the royalty, though he apparently has it
in his mind, _If you shall cleave to my consent_, if you shall concur
with me when I determine to accept the crown, _when 'tis_, when that
happens which the prediction promises, _it shall make honour for you_.
II.i.49 (437,6) Now o'er the one half world/Nature seems dead] That is,
_over our hemisphere all action and motion seem to have ceased_. This
image, which is perhaps the most striking that poetry can produce, has
been adopted by Dryden in his _Conquest of Mexico_:
_All things are hush'd as Nature's self lay dead,
The mountains seem to nod their drowsy head;
The little birds in dreams their song repeat,
And sleeping flow'rs beneath the night dews sweat.
Even lust and envy sleep!_
These lines, though so well known, I have transcribed, that the contrast
between them and this passage of Shakespeare may be more accurately
observed.
Night is described by two great poets, but one describes a night of
quiet, the other of perturbation. In the night of Dryden, all the
disturbers of the world are laid asleep; in that of Shakespeare, nothing
but sorcery, lust, and murder, is awake. He that reads Dryden, finds
himself lull'd with serenity, and disposed to solitude and
contemplation. He that peruses Shakspeare looks round alarmed, and
starts to find himself alone. One is the night of a lover, the other, of
a murderer.