The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [2896]
“Good Sir, why do you start; and seem to fear
Things that do sound so fair?”
And then, again, still unintroitive, addresses the Witches:—
... “I' the name of truth,
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show?”
Banquo's questions are those of natural curiosity,—such as a girl would put after hearing a gipsy tell her schoolfellow's fortune;—all perfectly general, or rather, planless. But Macbeth, lost in thought, raises himself to speech only by the Witches being about to depart:—
“Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more:”—
and all that follows is reasoning on a problem already discussed in his mind,—on a hope which he welcomes, and the doubts concerning the attainment of which he wishes to have cleared up. Compare his eagerness,—the keen eye with which he has pursued the Witches' evanishing—
“Speak, I charge you!”
with the easily satisfied mind of the self-uninterested Banquo:—
“The air hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them:—Whither are they vanish'd?”
and then Macbeth's earnest reply,—
“Into the air; and what seem'd corporal, melted
As breath into the wind.—Would they had stay'd!”
Is it too minute to notice the appropriateness of the simile “as breath,” &c., in a cold climate?
Still again Banquo goes on wondering like any common spectator,—
“Were such things here as we do speak about?”
whilst Macbeth persists in recurring to the self-concerning:—
“Your children shall be kings.
Ban. You shall be king.
Macb. And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?”
So surely is the guilt in its germ anterior to the supposed cause, and immediate temptation! Before he can cool, the confirmation of the tempting half of the prophecy arrives, and the concatenating tendency of the imagination is fostered by the sudden coincidence:—
“Glamis, and thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind.”
Oppose this to Banquo's simple surprise:—
“What, can the devil speak true?”
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 anything 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 birth-date 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 passing in his own mind, and instantly vents the lie of ambition:—
“My dull brain was wrought
With