Are to your throne and state, children and servants,
Which do but what they should, in doing every thing
_Fiefs_ to your love and honour.

My esteem for these criticks, inclines me to believe, that they cannot
be much pleased with the expressions, _Fiefs to love_, or _Fiefs to
honour_; and that they have proposed this alteration, rather because no
other occurred to them, than because they approved it. I shall,
therefore, propose a bolder change, perhaps, with no better success, but
"sua cuique placent." I read thus,

--our duties
Are to your throne and state, children and servants,
Which do but what they should, in doing _nothing,
Save_ tow'rd _your love and honour_.

We do but perform our duty, when we contract all our views to your
service, when we act with _no other_ principle than regard to _your love
and honour_.

It is probable that this passage was first corrupted by writing _safe_
for _save_, and the lines then stood thus:

--doing nothing
Safe tow'rd your love and honour.

Which the next transcriber observing to be wrong, and yet not being able
to discover the real fault, altered to the present reading.

NOTE XII.

SCENE VII.

--Thou'dst have, great Glamis,
That which cries, "thus thou must do, if thou have _it_;
And that," &c.

As the object of Macbeth's desire is here introduced speaking of itself,
it is necessary to read,

--thou'dst have, great Glamis,
That which cries, "thus thou must do, if thou have _me_."

NOTE XIII.

--Hie thee hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth _seem_
To have thee crown'd withal.

For _seem_, the sense evidently directs us to read _seek_. The crown to
which fate destines thee, and which preternatural agents _endeavour_ to
bestow upon thee. The _golden round_ is the _diadem_.

NOTE XIV.

_Lady Macbeth_.--Come, all you spirits
That tend on _mortal thoughts_, unsex me here;
And fill me, from the crown to th' toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood,
Stop up th' access and passage to remorse;
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose, nor _keep peace_ between
Th' effect and it!

--Mortal thought