“Lady M. How now, my lord? why do you keep alone 2 Of sorriest fancies your companions making 7 Using those thoughts, which should indeed have died With them they think on ? Things without remedy Should be without regard : what's done, is done. Macb. We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it;
She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams
That shake us nightly: Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our place, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie
In restless ecstacy.” Well might she feel it needful to urge upon him the policy of sleeking o'er his rugged looks, and of being bright and jovial among his guests; but how deep the agony of the reply: “O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife I’’ The banquet scene following the murder of Banquo is unrivalled in dramatic force and psychological truth. The kingly host hath put on a forced cheerfulness. He will play the humble host, and sit in the midst. He commands his guests to be large in mirth. He has something like a grim jest for the murderer who appears at the side door, to whom he
makes the only play on words in the tragedy, the porter's ribaldry excepted. “Macb. There's blood upon thy face. Mur. 'Tis Banquo's, then. Macb. 'Tis better thee without, than him withim.” “Thou art the best o' the cut throats; yet he's good That did the like for Fleance ; if thou didst it,
Thou art the mompareil.” The short-lived effort to be gay subsides into the usual ab stracted mood, and Lady Macbeth needs to chide him : “You do not give the cheer,” &c. He makes an effort, gives that fine physiological grace before meat:
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