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 though the fatal wood is at his gates, to fight as long as he sees an enemy to strike at, a boisterous paroxysm of rage!—But, suppose he had entertained such an idea; The indignant impatience which would fly to this sad relief, is too honourably countenanced by those Roman fools he speaks of, to pass for a proof of cowardice in Macbeth. "It must be acknowledged," continues Mr. Steevens, "that his apprehensions had betrayed him into a strange inconsistency of belief. As he persisted in supposing he could be destroyed by none of woman born, by what means did he think he could destroy himself?" Shakspeare, vol, x. p. 297.