 | Lady Macbeth |  |
124
SCENE VII.
Macbeth and Lady.MACBETH.
The times grow murky, and our star, dear love,
Hath reached the zenith. Fate's malignant orbs
Show baleful aspect in our horoscope,
And fortune, e'er it wanes, dims with eclipse.
Oh! we have found that every phase of fortune,
From the first faint edge, to the round bright full,
Marks the progression and the rise of care.
LADY.
These pallid fancies, better would become
My dreamy couch, than the bold circumstance
With which thou art assailed. Take courage thane;
Rouse thee to war. Have not the weirds told,
That as in panoply divine incas'd,
Thou art invulnerable to the steel
Of all of woman born? Assert thy fate.
MACBETH.
But I have lost the relish of renown,
And that which made the plaudits of the world
Richer than Music's voice, is mine no more.
O curs'd ambition; in pursuit of thee,
Thou unsubstantial iris of the brain,
I have so far into the desert run,
That all around me seems one blasted heath,
And still the phantom lures to wilder wastes.
125
Come, come, forbear; this idle wonderment—
The dismal crimson that so coarsely glares
In the mind's painting of our secret deeds,
Time, with the mellowing varnish of success,
May yet appease, and the admiring good
Confess the merits of our great designs.
I was not form'd of sterner mould than thou,
Nor yields my couch a calmer sleep than thine;
Yet will not I, in this great game of life,
Spurn at the board because these shiftings vex me.
No, no, Macbeth; we cannot now return;
But on we must go—on, nor look behind:
And when a smoother brighter height we gain,
There plant those purposes of public weal
Which shall protect us; and within their shade,
Repose in honour, and lamented die.
MACBETH.
Yes: I will go, for I am pledged to it;
And like the homeless outcast prostitute,
Still heap the cairn of happiness with sins.
| Lady Macbeth | |