The Witch of Middleton is his most remarkable performance; both on its own account, and from the use that Shakespear has made of some of the characters and speeches in his Macbeth. Though the employment which Middleton has given to Hecate and the rest, in thwarting the purposes and perplexing the business of familiar and domestic life, is not so grand or appalling as the more stupendous agency which Shakespear has assigned them, yet it is not easy to deny the merit of the first invention to Middleton, who has embodied the existing superstitions of the time, respecting that anomalous class of beings, with a high spirit of poetry, of the most grotesque and fanciful kind. The songs and incantations made use of are very nearly the same. The other parts of this play are not so good; and the solution of the principal difficulty, by Antonio’s falling down a trap-door, most lame and impotent. As a specimen of the similarity of the preternatural machinery, I shall here give one entire scene. ‘_The Witches’ Habitation._ _Enter_ Heccat, Stadlin, Hoppo, _and other Witches_. _Hec._ The moon’s a gallant: see how brisk she rides. _Stad._ Here’s a rich evening, Heccat. _Hec._ Aye, is ‘t not, wenches, To take a journey of five thousand miles? _Hop._ Our’s will be more to-night. _Hec._ Oh, ‘twill be precious. Heard you the owl yet? _Stad._ Briefly, in the copse, As we came thro’ now. _Hec._ ’Tis high time for us then. _Stad._ There was a bat hung at my lips three times As we came thro’ the woods, and drank her fill: Old Puckle saw her. _Hec._ You are fortunate still, The very scritch-owl lights upon your shoulder, And woos you like a pidgeon. Are you furnish’d? Have you your ointments? _Stad._ All. _Hec._ Prepare to flight then. I’ll overtake you swiftly. _Stad._ Hye then, Heccat! We shall be up betimes. _Hec._ I’ll reach you quickly. [_They ascend._ _Enter_ Firestone. _Fire._ They are all going a birding to-night. They talk of fowls i’ th’ air, that fly by day, I’m sure they’ll be a company of foul sluts there to-night. If we have not mortality affeared, I’ll be hang’d, for they are able to putrify it, to infect a whole region. She spies me now. _Hec._ What, Firestone, our sweet son? _Fire._ A little sweeter than some of you; or a dunghill were too good for me. _Hec._ How much hast there? _Fire._ Nineteen, and all brave plump ones; besides six lizards, and three serpentine eggs. _Hec._ Dear and sweet boy! What herbs hast thou? _Fire._ I have some mar-martin, and man-dragon. _Hec._ Marmarittin, and mandragora, thou would’st say. _Fire._ Here’s pannax, too. I thank thee; my pan akes, I am sure, with kneeling down to cut ’em.