Macbeth (1918) Yale/Text/Act IV

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Scene One

[A Cavern. In the middle, a boiling Cauldron]

Thunder. Enter the three Witches.

First Witch. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.

Sec. Witch. Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whin'd.

Third Witch. Harpier cries; 'tis time, 'tis time.

First Witch. Round about the cauldron go; 4
In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights hast thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got, 8
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.

All. Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Sec. Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake, 12
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, 16
Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

All. Double, double, toil and trouble; 20
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Third Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, 24
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse, 28
Nose of Turk, and Tartar's lips,
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab: 32
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

All. Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. 36

Sec. Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood;
Then the charm is firm and good.

Enter Hecate.

Hec. O! well done! I commend your pains,
And every one shall share i' the gains. 40
And now about the cauldron sing,
Like elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.

Music and a song, 'Black Spirits,' &c.

Sec. Witch. By the pricking of my thumbs, 44
Something wicked this way comes.
Open, locks,
Whoever knocks.

Enter Macbeth.

Macb. How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! 48
What is 't you do?

All. A deed without a name.

Macb. 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 52
Against the churches; though the yesty waves
Confound and swallow navigation up;
Though bladed corn be lodg'd and trees blown down;
Though castles topple on their warders' heads;
Though palaces and pyramids do slope 57
Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure
Of Nature's germens tumble all together,
Even till destruction sicken; answer me 60
To what I ask you.

First Witch. Speak.

Sec. Witch. Demand.

Third Witch. We'll answer.

First Witch. Say if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths,
Or from our masters'?

Macb. Call 'em: let me see 'em.

First Witch. Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten 64
Her nine farrow; grease, that's sweaten
From the murderer's gibbet, throw
Into the flame.

All.Come, high or low;
Thyself and office deftly show. 68

Thunder. First Apparition, an armed Head.

Macb. Tell me, thou unknown power,—

First Witch. He knows thy thought:
Hear his speech, but say thou nought.

First App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff;
Beware the Thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough.

He descends.

Macb. Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution thanks; 73
Thou hast harp'd my fear aright. But one word more,—

First Witch. He will not be commanded: here's another,
More potent than the first. 76

Thunder. Second Apparition, a bloody Child.

Sec. App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!—

Macb. Had I three ears, I'd hear thee.

Sec. App. Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn
The power of man: for none of woman born 80
Shall harm Macbeth. Descends.

Macb. Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee?
But yet I'll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live; 84
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
And sleep in spite of thunder.

Thunder. Third Apparition, a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand.

What is this,
That rises like the issue of a king,
And wears upon his baby brow the round 88
And top of sovereignty?

All. Listen, but speak not to 't.

Third App. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care
Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are:
Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until 92
Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him. Descends.

Macb. That will never be:
Who can impress the forest, bid the tree
Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good! 96
Rebellious dead, rise never till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd Macbeth
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath
To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart 100
Throbs to know one thing: tell me—if your art
Can tell so much,—shall Banquo's issue ever
Reign in this kingdom?

All. Seek to know no more.

Macb. I will be satisfied: deny me this, 104
And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?


First Witch. Show!

Sec. Witch. Show! 108

Third Witch. Show!

All. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart.

A show of eight kings, and Banquo last; [the eighth king] with a glass in his hand.

Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo; down! 112
Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs: and thy hair,
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first:
A third is like the former. Filthy hags!
Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes! 116
What! will the line stretch out to the crack of doom?
Another yet? A seventh! I'll see no more:
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass
Which shows me many more; and some I see
That two-fold balls and treble sceptres carry. 121
Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true;
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me,
And points at them for his. [Apparitions vanish.]
What! is this so? 124

First Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so: but why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
And show the best of our delights. 128
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antic round,
That this great king may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay. 132

Music. The Witches dance, and vanish
[with Hecate].

Macb. Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour
Stand aye accursed in the calendar!
Come in, without there!

Enter Lennox.

Len. What's your Grace's will?

Macb. Saw you the weird sisters?

Len. No, my lord. 136

Macb. Came they not by you?

Len. No indeed, my lord.

Macb. Infected be the air whereon they ride,
And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear
The galloping of horse: who was 't came by? 140

Len. 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word
Macduff is fled to England.

Macb. Fled to England!

Len. Ay, my good lord.

Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits; 144
The flighty purpose never is o'ertook
Unless the deed go with it; from this moment
The very firstlings of my heart shall be
The firstlings of my hand. And even now, 148
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done:
The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
Seize upon Fife; give to the edge of the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls 152
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
This deed I'll do, before this purpose cool:
But no more sights! Where are these gentlemen?
Come, bring me where they are. Exeunt.

Scene Two

[Fife. Macduff's Castle]

Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Ross.

L. Macd. What had he done to make him fly the land?

Ross. You must have patience, madam.

L. Macd. He had none:
His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.

Ross. You know not 4
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; 8
He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight—
Her young ones in her nest—against the owl.
All is the fear and nothing is the love; 12
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.

Ross. My dearest coz,
I pray you, school yourself: but, for your husband,
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows 16
The fits o' the season. I dare not speak much further:
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors
And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
But float upon a wild and violent sea 21
Each way and move. I take my leave of you:
Shall not be long but I'll be here again.
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward 24
To what they were before. My pretty cousin,
Blessing upon you!

L. Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.

Ross. I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, 28
It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once. Exit Ross.

L. Macd. Sirrah, your father's dead:
And what will you do now? How will you live?

Son. As birds do, mother.

L. Macd. What! with worms and flies? 32

Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do they.

L. Macd. Poor bird! thou'dst never fear the net nor lime,
The pit-fall nor the gin.

Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. 36
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. 40

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? 44

L. Macd. Ay, that he was.

Son. What is a traitor?

L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies.

Son. And be all traitors that do so? 48

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? 52

L. Macd. Why, the honest men.

Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools,
for there are liars and swearers enow to beat the
honest men, and hang up them. 56

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. 61

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. 64
I doubt some danger does approach you nearly:
If you will take a homely man's advice,
Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
To do worse to you were fell cruelty, 69
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer. Exit Messenger.

L. Macd. Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm. But I remember now 72
I am in this earthly world, where to do harm
Is often laudable, to do good sometime
Accounted dangerous folly; why then, alas,
Do I put up that womanly defence, 76
To say I have done no harm?

Enter Murderers.

What are these faces?

[First] Mur. Where is your husband?

L. Macd. I hope in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.

[First] Mur. He's a traitor. 80

Son. Thou liest, thou shag-ear'd villain.

[First] Mur. What! you egg.
Young fry of treachery! [Stabbing him.]

Son. He has killed me, mother:
Run away, I pray you! [Dies.]

Exit [Lady Macduff] crying 'Murder,'
[and pursued by the Murderers.]

Scene Three

[England. Before 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
Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom; each new morn 4
New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds
As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out
Like syllable of dolour.

Mal. What I believe I'll wail, 8
What know believe, and what I can redress,
As I shall find the time to friend, I will.
What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,
Was once thought honest: you have lov'd him well; 13
He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but something
You may discern of him through me, and wisdom
To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb 16
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; 20
That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose;
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell;
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace,
Yet grace must still look so.

Macd. I have lost my hopes. 24

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, 28
Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,
But mine own safeties: you may be rightly just,
Whatever I shall think.

Macd. Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, 32
For goodness dare not check thee! wear thou thy wrongs;
The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord:
I would not be the villain that thou think'st
For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp,
And the rich East to boot.

Mal. Be not offended: 37
I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash 40
Is added to her wounds: I think withal,
There would be hands uplifted in my right;
And here from gracious England have I offer
Of goodly thousands: but, for all this, 44
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head,
Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
Shall have more vices than it had before,
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever, 48
By him that shall succeed.

Macd. What should he be?

Mal. It is myself I mean; in whom I know
All the particulars of vice so grafted,
That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state 53
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd
With my confineless harms.

Macd. Not in the legions
Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd 56
In evils to top Macbeth.

Mal. I grant him bloody,
Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful,
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
That has a name; but there's no bottom, none,
In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, 61
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The cistern of my lust; and my desire
All continent impediments would o'erbear 64
That did oppose my will; better Macbeth
Than such an one to reign.

Macd. Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
Th' untimely emptying of the happy throne, 68
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what is yours; you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. 72
We have willing dames enough; there cannot be
That vulture in you, to devour so many
As will to greatness dedicate themselves,
Finding it so inclin'd.

Mal. With this there grows 76
In my most ill-compos'd affection such
A stanchless avarice that, were I king,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands,
Desire his jewels and this other's house; 80
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more, that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.

Macd. This avarice 84
Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear;
Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will, 88
Of your mere own; all these are portable,
With other graces weigh'd.

Mal. But I have none: the king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, 92
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them, but abound
In the division of each several crime, 96
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.

Macd. O Scotland, Scotland! 100

Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
I am as I have spoken.

Macd. Fit to govern.
No, not to live. O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd, 104
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accurs'd,
And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father 108
Was a most sainted king; the queen that bore thee,
Oft'ner upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she liv'd. Fare thee well!
These evils thou repeat' st upon thyself 112
Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast,
Thy hope ends here!

Mal. Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts
To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth 117
By many of these trains hath sought to win me
Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste; but God above 120
Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself, 124
For strangers to my nature. I am yet
Unknown to woman, never was forsworn,
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own;
At no time broke my faith, would not betray 128
The devil to his fellow, and delight
No less in truth than life; my first false speaking
Was this upon myself. What I am truly,
Is thine and my poor country's to command; 132
Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men,
Already at a point, was setting forth.
Now we'll together, and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel. Why are you silent? 137

Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things at once
'Tis hard to reconcile.

Enter a Doctor.

Mal. Well; more anon. Comes the king forth, I pray you? 140

Doct. Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched souls
That stay his cure; their malady convinces
The great assay of art; but, at his touch,
Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand, 144
They presently amend.

Mal. I thank you, doctor.

Exit [Doctor].

Macd. What's the disease he means?

Mal. 'Tis call'd the evil:
A most miraculous work in this good king,
Which often, since my here-remain in England,
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven, 149
Himself best knows; but strangely-visited people,
All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures; 152
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers; and 'tis spoken
To the succeeding royalty he leaves
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, 156
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy,
And sundry blessings hang about his throne
That speak him full of grace.

Enter Ross.

Macd. See, who comes here?

Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him not. 160

Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.

Mal. I know him now. Good God, betimes remove
The means that make us strangers!

Ross. Sir, amen.

Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?

Ross. Alas! poor country; 164
Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot
Be call'd our mother, but our grave; where nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rent the air 168
Are made, not mark'd; where violent sorrow seems
A modern ecstasy; the dead man's knell
Is there scarce ask'd for who; and good men's lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps, 172
Dying or ere they sicken.

Macd. O! relation
Too nice, and yet too true!

Mal. What's the newest grief?

Ross. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker;
Each minute teems a new one.

Macd. How does my wife? 176

Ross. Why, well.

Macd. And all my children?

Ross. Well too.

Macd. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace?

Ross. No; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em.

Macd. Be not a niggard of your speech: how goes 't? 180

Ross. When I came hither to transport the tidings,
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour
Of many worthy fellows that were out;
Which was to my belief witness'd the rather 184
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot.
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff their dire distresses.

Mal. Be 't their comfort, 188
We are coming thither. Gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
An older and a better soldier none
That Christendom gives out.

Ross. Would I could answer 192
This comfort with the like! But I have words
That would be howl'd out in the desert air,
Where hearing should not latch them.

Macd. What concern they?
The general cause? or is it a fee-grief 196
Due to some single breast?

Ross. No mind that's honest
But in it shares some woe, though the main part
Pertains to you alone.

Macd. If it be mine,
Keep it not from me; quickly let me have it. 200

Ross. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever,
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound
That ever yet they heard.

Macd. Hum! I guess at it.

Ross. Your castle is surpris'd; your wife and babes 204
Savagely slaughter'd; to relate the manner,
Were, on the quarry of these murder'd deer,
To add the death of you.

Mal. Merciful heaven!
What! man; ne'er pull your hat upon your brows; 208
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.

Macd. My children too?

Ross. Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.

Macd. And I must be from thence! 212
My wife kill'd too?

Ross. I have said.

Mal. Be comforted:
Let's make us medicines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.

Macd. He has no children. All my pretty ones? 216
Did you say all? O hell-kite! All?
What! all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?

Mal. Dispute it like a man.

Macd. I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man: 220
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff!
They were all struck for thee. Naught that I am, 224
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now!

Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword: let grief
Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it. 228

Macd. O! I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue. But, gentle heavens,
Cut short all intermission; front to front 231
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
Within my sword's length set him; if he scape,
Heaven forgive him too!

Mal. This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth 236
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may;
The night is long that never finds the day. Exeunt.

Footnotes to Act IV

Scene One

1 brinded cat: tabby
3 Harpier; cf. n.
8 Swelter'd: sweated
12 Fillet: slice
fenny: swampy
16 fork: forked tongue
17 howlet's: owl's
23 mummy: medicine made from mummies
gulf: throat (?)
24 ravin'd: ravenous (?), glutted (?)
31 Ditch-deliver'd: born in a ditch
drab: low woman
32 slab: sticky
33 chaudron: entrails
50, 51 Cf. n.
53 yesty: foamy
55 bladed corn: grain not yet in the ear
lodg'd: beaten flat
58, 59 treasure . . . germens; cf. n.
65 farrow: young pigs
95 impress: force into military service
96 bodements: predictions
97 Rebellious dead; cf. n.
117 crack of doom: break of Judgment Day
121 Cf. n.
123 blood-bolter'd: blood-clotted
130 antic: fantastic
147 firstlings: first offspring
153 trace: follow

Scene Two

7 titles: rightful possessions
9 wants the natural touch: lacks natural affection
14 coz: cousin
17 fits: disorders
19 know ourselves: i.e., to be such
hold: interpret
22 Each way and move; cf. n.
34 lime: sticky bird-lime
35 gin: snare
42 with all thy wit: like a simpleton (?)
64 in . . . perfect: well acquainted with your rank and station
81 shag-ear'd: hairy-eared
82 fry: spawn

Scene Three

4 Bestride: i.e., in its defence
birthdom: native land
8 dolour: sorrow
10 to friend: favorable
13–16 Cf. n.
19 recoil: turn to evil
20 imperial charge: king's service
24 so: i.e., gracious
26 rawness: rash haste
29 jealousies: suspicions
34 title: i.e., Macbeth's right to the crown
affeer'd: made sure
57 top: surpass
58 Luxurious: lustful
64 continent: restraining
71 Convey: steal
77 affection: character
86 summer-seeming: hot but transient
87 sword: i.e., cause of death
88 foisons: plentiful supplies
89 portable: endurable
96 division: practiced execution (a musical term)
107 interdiction: decree of exclusion
111 Died every day: i.e., was always ready for death
118 trains: decoys
123 abjure: deny under oath
135 at a point: in readiness
136, 137 Cf. n.
142 stay his cure: wait for him to cure them; cf. n.
143 assay of art: efforts of medical science
150 strangely-visited: strangely-afflicted
153 stamp: coin
168 rent: rend
170 modern: commonplace
171 Is . . . who; cf. n.
173 or ere: ere
174 nice: minutely detailed
176 teems: brings forth
183 out: up in arms
184 witness'd: made credible
188 doff: put off
192 gives out: shows
194 would: demand to
195 latch: catch
196 fee-grief: private grief
206 quarry: dead bodies (a hunting term)
210 o'er-fraught: overladen
218 dam: mother
219 Dispute it; cf. n.
224 Naught: worthless
228 Convert: change
231 intermission: delay
233 scape: escape
236 leave: permission to go
238 Put on: urge on