"Ib." Banquo"s speech:--
That, trusted home, Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, Besides the thane of Cawdor.
I doubt whether "enkindle" has not another sense than that of "stimulating;" I mean of "kind" and "kin," as when rabbits are said to "kindle." However Macbeth no longer hears any thing "ab extra":--
Two truths are told, As happy prologues to the swelling act Of the imperial theme.
Then in the necessity of recollecting himself--
I thank you, gentlemen.
Then he relapses into himself again, and every word of his soliloquy shows the early birthdate of his guilt. He is all-powerful without strength; he wishes the end, but is irresolute as to the means; conscience distinctly warns him, and he lulls it imperfectly:--
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me Without my stir.
Lost in the prospective of his guilt, he turns round alarmed lest others may suspect what is pa.s.sing in his own mind, and instantly vents the lie of ambition:
My dull brain was wrought With things _forgotten_;--
And immediately after pours forth the promising courtesies of a usurper in intention:--
Kind gentlemen, your pains Are register"d where every day I turn The leaf to read them.
"Ib." Macbeth"s speech:
Presents _fears_ Are less than horrible imaginings.
Warburton"s note, and subst.i.tution of "feats" for "fears."
Mercy on this most wilful ingenuity of blundering, which, nevertheless, was the very Warburton of Warburton--his inmost being! "Fears," here, are present fear-striking objects, "terribilia adstantia".
"Ib." sc. 4. O! the affecting beauty of the death of Cawdor, and the presentimental speech of the king:
There"s no art To find the mind"s construction in the face: He was a gentleman on whom I built An absolute trust--
Interrupted by--
O worthiest cousin!
on the entrance of the deeper traitor for whom Cawdor had made way! And here in contrast with Duncan"s "plenteous joys," Macbeth has nothing but the common-places of loyalty, in which he hides himself with "our duties." Note the exceeding effort of Macbeth"s addresses to the king, his reasoning on his allegiance, and then especially when a new difficulty, the designation of a successor, suggests a new crime. This, however, seems the first distinct notion, as to the plan of realizing his wishes; and here, therefore, with great propriety, Macbeth"s cowardice of his own conscience discloses itself. I always think there is something especially Shakspearian in Duncan"s speeches throughout this scene, such pourings forth, such abandonments, compared with the language of vulgar dramatists, whose characters seem to have made their speeches as the actors learn them.
"Ib." Duncan"s speech:--
Sons, kinsmen, thanes, And you whose places are the nearest, know, We will establish our estate upon Our eldest Malcolm, whom we name hereafter The Prince of c.u.mberland: which honour must Not unaccompanied, invest him only; But signs of n.o.bleness, like stars, shall shine On all deservers.
It is a fancy;--but I can never read this and the following speeches of Macbeth, without involuntarily thinking of the Miltonic Messiah and Satan.
"Ib." sc. 5. Macbeth is described by Lady Macbeth so as at the same time to reveal her own character. Could he have everything he wanted, he would rather have it innocently;--ignorant, as alas! how many of us are, that he who wishes a temporal end for itself, does in truth will the means; and hence the danger of indulging fancies. Lady Macbeth, like all in Shakspeare, is a cla.s.s individualized:--of high rank, left much alone, and feeding herself with day-dreams of ambition, she mistakes the courage of fantasy for the power of bearing the consequences of the realities of guilt. Hers is the mock fort.i.tude of a mind deluded by ambition; she shames her husband with a superhuman audacity of fancy which she cannot support, but sinks in the season of remorse, and dies in suicidal agony. Her speech:
Come, all you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, uns.e.x me here, &c.
is that of one who had habitually familiarized her imagination to dreadful conceptions, and was trying to do so still more. Her invocations and requisitions are all the false efforts of a mind accustomed only hitherto to the shadows of the imagination, vivid enough to throw the every-day substances of life into shadow, but never as yet brought into direct contact with their own correspondent realities. She evinces no womanly life, no wifely joy, at the return of her husband, no pleased terror at the thought of his past dangers; whilst Macbeth bursts forth naturally--
My dearest love--
and shrinks from the boldness with which she presents his own thoughts to him. With consummate art she at first uses as incentives the very circ.u.mstances, Duncan"s coming to their house, &c. which Macbeth"s conscience would most probably have adduced to her as motives of abhorrence or repulsion. Yet Macbeth is not prepared:
We will speak further.
"Ib." sc. 6. The lyrical movement with which this scene opens, and the free and unengaged mind of Banquo, loving nature, and rewarded in the love itself, form a highly dramatic contrast with the laboured rhythm and hypocritical over-much of Lady Macbeth"s welcome, in which you cannot detect a ray of personal feeling, but all is thrown upon the "dignities," the general duty.
"Ib." sc. 7. Macbeth"s speech:
We will proceed no further in this business: He hath honor"d me of late; and I have bought Golden opinions from all sorts of people, Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon.
Note the inward pangs and warnings of conscience interpreted into prudential reasonings.
Act ii. sc. 1. Banquo"s speech: