A Charm Song about a Vessel.

Hec. Black spirits and white, red spirits and grey,
Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may.
Titty, Tiffin, keep it stiff in ;

Fire-drake, Puckey, make it lucky;
Liard, Robin, you must bob in.

Round, around, around, about, about

All Ill come running in, all Good keep out.
First Witch. Here's the blood of a bat.
Hec. Put in that, oh, put in that.
Sec. Witch. Here's libbard's-bane.
Hec. Put in again.

First Witch.

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The juice of toad; the oil of adder. Sec. Witch. Those will make the younker madder. Hec. Put in, there 's all, and rid the stench.

Fire. Nay, here's three ounces of the red-hair'd wench.

All.

Round, around, around, &c.

Hec. So, so, enough: into the vessel with it. There; 't hath the true perfection: I am so light* At any mischief, there's no villainy

But is a tune, methinks.

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Fire. A tune! 'tis to the tune of damnation then,

I warrant you,

And that song hath a villainous burthen.

Hec. Come, my sweet sisters, let the air strike our

tune;

Whilst we show reverence to yon peeping moon. [The Witches dance, et Exeunt.

[Though some resemblance may be traced between the Charms in Macbeth, and the Incantations in this Play, which is supposed to have preceded it, this coincidence will not detract much from the originality of Shakspeare. His Witches are distinguished from the Witches of Middleton by essential differences. These are creatures to whom man or woman plotting some dire mischief might resort for occasional consultation. Those originate deeds of blood, and begin bad impulses to men. From the moment that their eyes first met with Macbeth's, he is spell-bound. That meeting sways his

* Light-hearted.

destiny. He can never break the fascination. These Witches can hurt the body: those have power over the soul. Hecate in Middleton has a Son, a low buffoon: the hags of Shakspeare have neither child of their own, nor seem to be descended from any parent. They are foul Anomalies, of whom we know not whence they are sprung, nor whether they have beginning or ending. As they are without human passions, so they seem to be without human relations. They come with thunder and lightning, and vanish to airy music. This is all we know of them.-Except Hecate, they have no names; which heightens their mysteriousness. Their names, and some of the properties, which Middleton has given to his hags, excite smiles. The Weird Sisters are serious things. Their presence cannot co-exist with mirth. But, in a lesser degree, the Witches of Middleton are fine creations. Their power too is, in some measure, over the mind. They raise jars, jealousies, strifes, like a thick scurf o'er life.]

LXXXV.

THE GAME AT CHESS: A COMEDY.

BY THE SAME.

Popish Priest to a great Court Lady, whom he hopes to make a Convert of.

Let me contemplate;

With holy wonder season my access,

And, by degrees, approach the sanctuary

Of unmatch'd beauty, set in grace and goodness.
Amongst the daughters of men I have not found
A more catholical aspect. That eye
Doth promise single life and meek obedience.
Upon those lips (the sweet fresh buds of youth)
The holy dew of prayer lies, like pearl
Dropped from the opening eyelids of the morn
Upon the bashful rose. How beauteously

A gentle fast (not rigorously imposed)

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Would look upon that cheek! and how delightfully The courteous physic of a tender penance,

(Whose utmost cruelty should not exceed

The first fear of a bride), to beat down frailty!

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