SCENE II. Fife. Macduff's castle. The Tragedy of Macbeth  Shakespeare homepage  |  Macbeth  | Act 4, Scene 2 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  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? 

 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, 

 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. 

 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, 

 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? 

 Son  If 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  Shakespeare homepage  |  Macbeth  | Act 4, Scene 2 

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