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[Fife. Macduffs castle] Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS L. Macd. What had he done, to make him fly the land? | |
| Ross. You must have patience, madam. | |
| L. Macd. He had none; | |
| His flight was madness. When our actions do not, | 4 |
| Our fears do make us traitors. | |
| Ross. You know not | |
| Whether it was his wisdom or his fear. | |
| L. Macd. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, | 8 |
| His mansion and his titles, 1 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, | 12 |
| 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. | 16 |
| Ross. My dearest coz, | |
| I pray you, school yourself; but for your husband, | |
| He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows | |
| The fits 2 o the season. I dare not speak much further; | 20 |
| 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 | 24 |
| Each way and move. I take my leave of you; | |
| Shall not be long but Ill be here again. | |
| Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward | |
| To what they were before. My pretty cousin, | 28 |
| Blessing upon you! | |
| L. Macd. Fatherd he is, and yet hes fatherless. | |
| Ross. I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, | |
| It would be my disgrace and your discomfort. | 32 |
| I take my leave at once. Exit. | |
| L. Macd. Sirrah, your fathers dead; | |
| And what will you do now? How will you live? | |
| Son. As birds do, mother. | 36 |
| L. Macd. What, with worms and flies? | |
| Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do they. | |
| L. Macd. Poor bird! thou dst never fear the net nor lime, | |
| The pitfall nor the gin. | 40 |
| Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. | |
| My father is not dead, for all your saying. | |
| L. Macd. Yes, he is dead. How wilt thou do for a father? | |
| Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? | 44 |
| L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. | |
| Son. Then youll buy em to sell again. | |
| L. Macd. Thou speakst with all thy wit; and yet, i faith, | |
| With wit enough for thee. | 48 |
| Son. Was my father a traitor, mother? | |
| L. Macd. Ay, that he was. | |
| Son. What is a traitor? | |
| L. Macd. Why, one that swears and lies. | 52 |
| Son. And be all traitors that do so? | |
| L. Macd. Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hangd. | |
| Son. And must they all be hangd that swear and lie? | |
| L. Macd. Every one. | 56 |
| Son. Who must hang them? | |
| L. Macd. Why, the honest men. | |
| Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools; for there are liars and | |
| swearers enow to beat the honest men and hang up them. | 60 |
| L. Macd. Now, God help thee, poor monkey! | |
| But how wilt thou do for a father? | |
| Son. If he were dead, youd weep for him; if you would not, it | |
| were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father. | 64 |
| L. Macd. Poor prattler, how thou talkst! | |
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Enter a Messenger Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, | |
| Though in your state of honour I am perfect. 3 | |
| I doubt some danger does approach you nearly. | 68 |
| If you will take a homely mans 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, | 72 |
| Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! | |
| I dare abide no longer. Exit. | |
| L. Macd. Whither should I fly? | |
| I have done no harm. But I remember now | 76 |
| 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, | 80 |
| To say I have done no harm? | |
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Enter Murderers What are these faces? | |
| [1.] Mur. Where is your husband? | |
| L. Macd. I hope, in no place so unsanctified | 84 |
| Where such as thou mayst find him. | |
| [1.] Mur. Hes a traitor. | |
| Son. Thou liest, thou shag-eard villain! | |
| [1.] Mur. What, you egg! [Stabbing him.] | 88 |
| Young fry of treachery! | |
| Son. He has killd me, mother: | |
| Run away, I pray you! [Dies.] Exit [LADY MACDUFF] crying Murder! [Exeunt Murderers, following her.] | |