Not now.
BULLER.
No sleep in the Tent till we have it, sir. I do dearly love astounding discoveries—and at this time of day, in astounding discovery in Shakspeare! May it not prove a Mare's Nest!
NORTH.
The Tragedy of Macbeth is a prodigious Tragedy, because in it the Chariot of Nemesis visibly rides in the lurid thunder-sky. Because in it the ill motions of a human soul, which Theologians account for by referring them all to suggestions of Beelzebub, are expounded in visible, mysterious, tangible, terrible shape and symbolisation by the Witches. It is great by the character and person, workings and sufferings, of Lady Macbeth—by the immense poetical power in doing the Witches—mingling for once in the world the Homely-Grotesque and the Sublime—extinguishing the Vulgar in the Sublime—by the bond, whatsoever it be, between Macbeth and his wife—by making us tolerate her and him——
BULLER.
Didn't I say that in my own way, sir? And didn't you reprove me for saying it, and order me out of the Tent?
NORTH.
And what of the Witches?
BULLER.