Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS
LADY MACDUFF
What had he done, to make him fly the land?
ROSS
You must have patience, madam.
LADY MACDUFF
He had none:
His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
ROSS
You know not
LADY MACDUFF
Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
ROSS
My dearest coz,
LADY MACDUFF
Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
ROSS
I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
Exit
LADY MACDUFF
Sirrah, your father's dead;
Son
As birds do, mother.
LADY MACDUFF
What, with worms and flies?
Son
With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
LADY MACDUFF
Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime,
Son
Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
LADY MACDUFF
Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?
Son
Nay, how will you do for a husband?
LADY MACDUFF
Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
Son
Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
LADY MACDUFF
Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith,
Son
Was my father a traitor, mother?
LADY MACDUFF
Ay, that he was.
Son
What is a traitor?
LADY MACDUFF
Why, one that swears and lies.
Son
And be all traitors that do so?
LADY MACDUFF
Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.
Son
And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?
LADY MACDUFF
Every one.
Son
Who must hang them?
LADY MACDUFF
Why, the honest men.
Son
Then the liars and swearers are fools,
LADY MACDUFF
Now, God help thee, poor monkey!
Son
If he were dead, you'ld weep for
LADY MACDUFF
Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!
Enter a Messenger
Messenger
Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
Exit
LADY MACDUFF
Whither should I fly?
Enter Murderers
What are these faces?
First Murderer
Where is your husband?
LADY MACDUFF
I hope, in no place so unsanctified
First Murderer
He's a traitor.
Son
Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain!
First Murderer
What, you egg!
Stabbing him
Young fry of treachery!
Son
He has kill'd me, mother:
Dies
Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, following her
Our fears do make us traitors.
Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
His mansion and his titles in a place
From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear and nothing is the love;
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.
I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband,
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
The fits o' the season. I dare not speak
much further;
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors
And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
But float upon a wild and violent sea
Each way and move. I take my leave of you:
Shall not be long but I'll be here again:
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
To what they were before. My pretty cousin,
Blessing upon you!
It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once.
And what will you do now? How will you live?
The pitfall nor the gin.
My father is not dead, for all your saying.
With wit enough for thee.
for there are liars and swearers enow to beat
the honest men and hang up them.
But how wilt thou do for a father?
him: if you would not, it were a good sign
that I should quickly have a new father.
Though in your state of honour I am perfect.
I doubt some danger does approach you nearly:
If you will take a homely man's advice,
Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer.
I have done no harm. But I remember now
I am in this earthly world; where to do harm
Is often laudable, to do good sometime
Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas,
Do I put up that womanly defence,
To say I have done no harm?
Where such as thou mayst find him.
Run away, I pray you!
