cruel, treacherous. But Richard is cruel from nature and
constitution. Macbeth becomes so from accidental circumstances.
Richard is from his birth deformed in body and mind, and naturally
incapable of good. Macbeth is full of 'the milk of human kindness,
is frank, sociable, generous. He is tempted to the commission of
guilt by golden opportunities, by the instigations of his wife, and
by prophetic warnings. Fate and metaphysical aid conspire against
his virtue and his loyalty. Richard, on the contrary, needs no
prompter, but wades through a series of crimes to the height of his
ambition from the ungovernable violence of his temper and a reckless
love of mischief. He is never gay but in the prospect or in the
success of his villanies; Macbeth is full of horror at the thoughts
of the murder of Duncan, which he is with difficulty prevailed on to
commit, and of remorse after its perpetration. Richard has no
mixture of common humanity in his composition, no regard to kindred
or posterity, he owns no fellowship with others, he is 'himself
alone'. Macbeth is not destitute of feelings of sympathy, is
accessible to pity, is even made in some measure the dupe of his
uxoriousness, ranks the loss of friends, of the cordial love of his
followers, and of his good name, among the causes which have made
him weary of life, and regrets that he has ever seized the crown by
unjust means, since he cannot transmit it to his own posterity:

For Banquo's issue have I 'fil'd my mind--
For them the gracious Duncan have I murther'd,
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings.

In the agitation of his thoughts, he envies those whom he has sent
to peace. 'Duncan is in his grave; after life's fitful fever he
sleeps well.' It is true, he becomes more callous as he plunges