Complete Works of Samuel Johnson

by Samuel Johnson

  Thus, in the time of Shakespeare, was the doctrine of witchcraft at once established by law and by the fashion, and it became not only unpolite, but criminal, to doubt it; and as prodigies are always seen in proportion as they are expected, witches were every day discovered, and multiplied so fast in some places, that bishop Hall mentions a village in Lancashire, where their number was greater than that of the houses. The Jesuits and Sectaries took advantage of this universal errour, and endeavoured to promote the interest of their parties by pretended cures of persons afflicted by evil spirits; but they were detected and exposed by the clergy of the established church.

  Upon this general infatuation Shakespeare might be easily allowed to found a play, especially since he has followed with great exactness such histories as were then thought true; nor can it be doubted that the scenes of enchantment, however they may now be ridiculed, were both by himself and his audience thought awful and affecting.

  NOTE III. [Transcriber’s note: sic]

  ACT I. SCENE II.

  — The merciless Macdonal, — from the western isles

  Of Kernes and Gallowglasses was supply’d;

  And fortune on his damned quarry smiling,

  Shew’d like a rebel’s whore. —

  Kernes are light-armed, and Gallowglasses heavy-armed soldiers. The word quarry has no sense that is properly applicable in this place, and, therefore, it is necessary to read,

  And fortune on his damned quarrel smiling.

  Quarrel was formerly used for cause, or for the occasion of a quarrel, and is to be found in that sense in Hollingshed’s account of the story of Macbeth, who, upon the creation of the prince of Cumberland, thought, says the historian, that he had a just quarrel to endeavour after the crown. The sense, therefore, is, fortune smiling on his execrable cause, &c.

  NOTE III.

  If I say sooth, I must report, they were

  As cannons overcharg’d with double cracks.

  So they redoubled strokes upon the foe.

  Mr. Theobald has endeavoured to improve the sense of this passage by altering the punctuation thus:

  — They were

  As cannons overcharg’d; with double cracks

  So they redoubled strokes. —

  He declares, with some degree of exultation, that he has no idea of a cannon charged with double cracks; but, surely, the great author will not gain much by an alteration which makes him say of a hero, that he redoubles strokes with double cracks, an expression not more loudly to be applauded, or more easily pardoned, than that which is rejected in its favour. That a cannon is charged with thunder or with double thunders may be written, not only without nonsense, but with elegance: and nothing else is here meant by cracks, which in the time of this writer was a word of such emphasis and dignity, that in this play he terms the general dissolution of nature the crack of doom.

  There are among Mr. Theobald’s alterations others which I do not approve, though I do not always censure them; for some of his amendments are so excellent, that, even when he has failed, he ought to be treated with indulgence and respect.

  NOTE IV.

  King. But who comes here?

  Mal. The worthy Thane of Rosse.

  Len. What haste looks through his eyes? So should he look, that seems to speak things strange. The meaning of this passage, as it now stands, is, so should he look, that looks as if he told things strange. But Rosse neither yet told strange things, nor could look as if he told them; Lenox only conjectured from his air that he had strange things to tell, and, therefore, undoubtedly said,

  — What haste looks through his eyes?

  So should he look, that teems to speak things strange.

  He looks like one that is big with something of importance; a metaphor so natural, that it is every day used in common discourse.

  NOTE V.

  SCENE III.

  Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

  1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?

  2 Witch. Killing swine.

  3 Witch. Sister, where thou?

  1 Witch. A sailor’s wife had chesnuts in her lap,

  And mouncht, and mouncht, and mouncht. Give me, quoth I.

  (a) Aroint thee, witch! — the rump-fed ronyon cries.

  Her husband’s to Aleppo gone, master o’ th’ Tyger:

  But in a sieve I’ll thither sail,

  And like a rat without a tail,

  I’ll do — I’ll do — and I’ll do.

  2 Witch. I’ll give thee a wind.

  1 Witch. Thou art kind.

  3 Witch. And I another.

  1 Witch. I myself have all the other.

  And the (b) very points they blow;

  All the quarters that they know,

  I’ th’ ship-man’s card. —

  I will drain him dry as hay,

  Sleep shall neither night nor day,

  Hang upon his pent-house lid;

  He shall live a man (c) forbid;

  Weary sev’n nights, nine times nine,

  Shall he dwindle, peak and pine;

  Tho’ his bark cannot be lost,

  Yet it shall be tempest-tost.

  Look, what I have.

  2 Witch. Shew me, Shew me.

  (a) Aroint thee, witch! In one of the folio editions the reading is anoint thee, in a sense very consistent with the common accounts of witches, who are related to perform many supernatural acts by the means of unguents, and particularly to fly through the air to the place where they meet at their hellish festivals. In this sense anoint thee, witch, will mean, away, witch, to your infernal assembly. This reading I was inclined to favour, because I had met with the word aroint in no other author; till looking into Hearne’s Collections, I found it in a very old drawing, that he has published, in which St. Patrick is represented visiting hell, and putting the devils into great confusion by his presence, of whom one that is driving the damned before him with a prong, has a label issuing out from his mouth with these words, “OUT OUT ARONGT,” of which the last is evidently the same with aroint, and used in the same sense as in this passage.

  (b) And the very points they blow. As the word very is here of no other use than to fill up the verse, it is likely that Shakespeare wrote various, which might be easily mistaken for very, being either negligently read, hastily pronounced, or imperfectly heard.

  (c) He shall live a man forbid. Mr. Theobald has very justly explained forbid by accursed, but without giving any reason of his interpretation. To bid is originally to pray, as in this Saxon fragment:

  [Anglo-Saxon: He is wis thaet bit g bote,] &c.

  He is wise that prays and makes amends.

  As to forbid, therefore, implies to prohibit, in opposition to the word bid, in its present sense, it signifies by the same kind of opposition to curse, when it is derived from the same word in its primitive meaning.

  NOTE VI.

  SCENE V

  The incongruity of all the passages, in which the Thane of Cawdor is mentioned, is very remarkable; in the second scene the Thanes of Rosse and Angus bring the king an account of the battle, and inform him that Norway,

  Assisted by that most disloyal traitor

  The Thane of Cawdor, ‘gan a dismal conflict.

  It appears that Cawdor was taken prisoner, for the king says, in the same scene,

  — Go, pronounce his death;

  And with his former title greet Macbeth.

  Yet though Cawdor was thus taken by Macbeth, in arms against his king, when Macbeth is saluted, in the fourth scene, Thane of Cawdor, by the Weird Sisters, he asks,

  But how, of Cawdor? the Thane of Cawdor lives.

  A prosp’rous gentleman; —

  And in the next line considers the promises, that he should be Cawdor and King, as equally unlikely to be accomplished. How can Macbeth be ignorant of the state of the Thane of Cawdor, whom he has just defeated and taken prisoner, or call him a prosperous gentleman who has forfeited his title and life by open rebellion? Or why should he wonder that t
he title of the rebel whom he has overthrown should be conferred upon him? He cannot be supposed to dissemble his knowledge of the condition of Cawdor, because he inquires with all the ardour of curiosity, and the vehemence of sudden astonishment; and because nobody is present but Banquo, who had an equal part in the battle, and was equally acquainted with Cawdor’s treason. However, in the next scene, his ignorance still continues; and when Rosse and Angus present him from the king with his new title, he cries out,

  — The Thane of Cawdor lives;

  Why do you dress me in his borrow’d robes?

  Rosse and Angus, who were the messengers that, in the second scene, informed the king of the assistance given by Cawdor to the invader, having lost, as well as Macbeth, all memory of what they had so lately seen and related, make this answer,

  — Whether he was

  Combin’d with Norway, or did line the rebel

  With hidden help and ‘vantage, or with both

  He labour’d in his country’s wreck, I know not.

  Neither Rosse knew what he had just reported, nor Macbeth what he had just done. This seems not to be one of the faults that are to be imputed to the transcribers, since, though the inconsistency of Rosse and Angus might be removed, by supposing that their names are erroneously inserted, and that only Rosse brought the account of the battle, and only Angus was sent to compliment Macbeth, yet the forgetfulness of Macbeth cannot be palliated, since what he says could not have been spoken by any other.

  NOTE VII.

  My thought, whose murther yet is but fantastical,

  Shakes so my single state of man, —

  The single state of man seems to be used by Shakespeare for an individual, in opposition to a commonwealth, or conjunct body of men.

  NOTE VIII.

  Macbeth. — Come what come may,

  Time and the hour runs through the roughest day.

  I suppose every reader is disgusted at the tautology in this passage, time and the hour, and will, therefore, willingly believe that Shakespeare wrote it thus,

  — Come what come may,

  Time! on! — the hour runs thro’ the roughest day.

  Macbeth is deliberating upon the events which are to befall him; but finding no satisfaction from his own thoughts, he grows impatient of reflection, and resolves to wait the close without harassing himself with conjectures:

  — Come what come may.

  But, to shorten the pain of suspense, he calls upon time, in the usual style of ardent desire, to quicken his motion,

  Time! on! —

  He then comforts himself with the reflection that all his perplexity must have an end,

  — The hour runs thro’ the roughest day.

  This conjecture is supported by the passage in the letter to his lady, in which he says, They referr’d me to the coming on of time with, Hail, King that shall be.

  NOTE IX.

  SCENE VI.

  Malcolm. — Nothing in his life

  Became him like the leaving it. He dy’d,

  As one that had been studied in his death,

  To throw away the dearest thing he ow’d,

  As ‘twere a careless trifle.

  As the word ow’d affords here no sense, but such as is forced and unnatural, it cannot be doubted that it was originally written, The dearest thing he own’d; a reading which needs neither defence nor explication.

  NOTE X.

  King. — There’s no art, To find the mind’s construction in the face:

  The construction of the mind is, I believe, a phrase peculiar to Shakespeare; it implies the frame or disposition of the mind, by which it is determined to good or ill.

  NOTE XI.

  Macbeth. The service and the loyalty I owe,

  In doing it, pays itself. Your highness’ part

  Is to receive our duties; and our duties

  Are to your throne and state, children and servants;

  Which do but what they should, by doing every thing

  Safe tow’rd your love and honour.

  Of the last line of this speech, which is certainly, as it is now read, unintelligible, an emendation has been attempted, which Dr. Warburton and Mr. Theobald have admitted as the true reading:

  — our duties Are to your throne and state, children and servants, Which do but what they should, in doing every thing Fiefs to your love and honour.

  My esteem for these criticks, inclines me to believe, that they cannot be much pleased with the expressions, Fiefs to love, or Fiefs to honour; and that they have proposed this alteration, rather because no other occurred to them, than because they approved it. I shall, therefore, propose a bolder change, perhaps, with no better success, but “sua cuique placent.” I read thus,

  — our duties

  Are to your throne and state, children and servants,

  Which do but what they should, in doing nothing,

  Save tow’rd your love and honour.

  We do but perform our duty, when we contract all our views to your service, when we act with no other principle than regard to your love and honour.

  It is probable that this passage was first corrupted by writing safe for save, and the lines then stood thus:

  — doing nothing

  Safe tow’rd your love and honour.

  Which the next transcriber observing to be wrong, and yet not being able to discover the real fault, altered to the present reading.

  NOTE XII.

  SCENE VII.

  — Thou’dst have, great Glamis,

  That which cries, “thus thou must do, if thou have it;

  And that,” &c.

  As the object of Macbeth’s desire is here introduced speaking of itself, it is necessary to read,

  — thou’dst have, great Glamis,

  That which cries, “thus thou must do, if thou have me.”

  NOTE XIII.

  — Hie thee hither,

  That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;

  And chastise with the valour of my tongue

  All that impedes thee from the golden round,

  Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem

  To have thee crown’d withal.

  For seem, the sense evidently directs us to read seek. The crown to which fate destines thee, and which preternatural agents endeavour to bestow upon thee. The golden round is the diadem.

  NOTE XIV.

  Lady Macbeth. — Come, all you spirits

  That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here;

  And fill me, from the crown to th’ toe, top-full

  Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,

  Stop up th’ access and passage to remorse;

  That no compunctious visitings of nature

  Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between

  Th’ effect and it!

  — Mortal thoughts, — This expression signifies not the thoughts of mortals, but murderous, deadly, or destructive designs. So in Act v.

  Hold fast the mortal sword.

  And in another place,

  With twenty mortal murthers.

  — Nor keep peace between

  Th’ effect and it! —

  The intent of Lady Macbeth evidently is to wish that no womanish tenderness, or conscientious remorse, may hinder her purpose from proceeding to effect; but neither this, nor indeed any other sense, is expressed by the present reading, and, therefore, it cannot be doubted that Shakespeare wrote differently, perhaps, thus:

  That no compunctious visitings of nature

  Shake my fell purpose, nor keep pace between

  Th’ effect and it.

  To keep pace between, may signify to pass between, to intervene. Pace is, on many occasions, a favourite of Shakespeare. This phrase, is indeed, not usual in this sense; but was it not its novelty that gave occasion to the present corruption?

  NOTE XV.

  SCENE VIII.

  King. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air

  Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself

 
Unto our gentle senses.

  Ban. This guest of summer,

  The temple-haunting martlet, does approve,

  By his lov’d mansionry, that heaven’s breath

  Smells wooingly here. No jutty frieze,

  Buttrice, nor coigne of ‘vantage, but this bird

  Hath made his pendent bed, and procreant cradle:

  Where they most breed and haunt, I have observ’d,

  The air is delicate.

  In this short scene, I propose a slight alteration to be made, by substituting site for seat, as the ancient word for situation; and sense for senses, as more agreeable to the measure; for which reason likewise I have endeavoured to adjust this passage,

  — heaven’s breath Smells wooingly here. No jutty frieze,

  by changing the punctuation and adding the syllable thus,

  — heaven’s breath Smells wooingly. Here is no jutty frieze.

  Those who have perused books, printed at the time of the first editions of Shakespeare, know that greater alterations than these are necessary almost in every page, even where it is not to be doubted, that the copy was correct.

  NOTE XVI.

  SCENE. X.

  The arguments by which Lady Macbeth persuades her husband to commit the murder, afford a proof of Shakespeare’s knowledge of human nature. She urges the excellence and dignity of courage, a glittering idea which has dazzled mankind from age to age, and animated sometimes the housebreaker, and sometimes the conqueror; but this sophism Macbeth has for ever destroyed, by distinguishing true from false fortitude, in a line and a half; of which it may almost be said, that they ought to bestow immortality on the author, though all his other productions had been lost:

  I dare do all that may become a man;

  Who dares do more is none.

  This topick, which has been always employed with too much success, is used in this scene, with peculiar propriety, to a soldier by a woman. Courage is the distinguishing virtue of a soldier, and the reproach of cowardice cannot be borne by any man from a woman, without great impatience.

  She then urges the oaths by which he had bound himself to murder Duncan, another art of sophistry by which men have sometimes deluded their consciences, and persuaded themselves that what would be criminal in others is virtuous in them: this argument Shakespeare, whose plan obliged him to make Macbeth yield, has not confuted, though he might easily have shown that a former obligation could not be vacated by a latter.