MACBETH

 ACT IV Scene II
 Fife. Macduff's castle.
 
 [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,
 Our fears do make us traitors.
 
 ROSS         You know not
 Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
 
 LADY MACDUFF     Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes,
 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.
 
 ROSS      My dearest coz,
 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!
 
 LADY MACDUFF        Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
 
 ROSS         I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
 It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
 I take my leave at once.
 
 [Exit]
 
 LADY MACDUFF         Sirrah, your father's dead;
 And what will you do now? How will you live?
 
 SonAs 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,
 The pitfall nor the gin.
 
 Son        Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
 My father is not dead, for all your saying.
 
 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,
 With wit enough for thee.
 
 Son      Was my father a traitor, mother?
 
 LADY MACDUFF     Ay, that he was.
 
 SonWhat 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,
 for there are liars and swearers enow to beat
 the honest men and hang up them.
 
 LADY MACDUFF   Now, God help thee, poor monkey!
 But how wilt thou do for a father?
 
 SonIf he were dead, you'ld weep for
 him: if you would not, it were a good sign
 that I should quickly have a new father.
 
 LADY MACDUFF     Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!
 
 [Enter a Messenger]
 
 Messenger      Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
 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.
 
 [Exit]
 
 LADY MACDUFF    Whither should I fly?
 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?
 
 [Enter Murderers]
 
       What are these faces?
 
 First Murderer    Where is your husband?
 
 LADY MACDUFF    I hope, in no place so unsanctified
 Where such as thou mayst find him.
 
 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:
 Run away, I pray you!
 
 [Dies]
 
 [Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt
 Murderers, following her]