L. Macd. ^note
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,
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,
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 ^note 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 ^note,
I pray you, school yourself: but, for your husband,
He is ^note noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
The fits o' ^note the season ^note. I dare not speak much further:
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors
And do not know ^note ourselves; when we hold rumour
From what we ^note fear, yet ^note know not what we fear,
But float upon ^note a wild and violent sea
Each way and move. ^note I take my leave of you:
Shall ^note 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!

L. Macd.
Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. ^note

Ross.
I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace and your discomfort: ^note
I take my leave at once. [Exit. ^note

L. Macd.
Sirrah, your father's dead:
And what will you do now? How will you live?

Son.
As birds do, mother.

L. Macd.
What, with ^note worms and flies?

Son.
With ^note what I get, I mean ^note; and so do they.

L. Macd.
Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime ^note, ^note

The pitfall nor the gin.

Son.
Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. ^note
My father is ^note not dead, for all your saying.

L. Macd.
Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do ^note for a father? ^note

Son.
Nay, how will you do for a husband?

L. Macd.
Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.

Son.
Then you'll buy ^note 'em to sell again.

L. Macd.
Thou speak'st with all ^note thy wit, and yet, i' faith,
With wit enough for thee. ^{note note}

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.

Son.

And be all traitors that do so? ^note

L. Macd.

Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hang'd. ^note

Son.

And must they all be hang'd that swear and lie?

L. Macd.

Every one.

Son.

Who must hang them?

L. Macd.

Why, the ^note honest men.

Son.

Then the liars and swearers are fools; for there are liars and swearers enow ^note to beat the honest men and hang up them.

L. Macd.

Now ^note, God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father? ^note

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.

L. Macd. ^note
Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! Enter a Messenger.

Mess.
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, ^note methinks I am too savage;
To do worse to you ^note were fell cruelty,
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer. [Exit. ^note

L. Macd.
Whither ^note should I fly?
I have ^note done no harm. But I remember now
I am ^note 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 ^note done no harm?—What are these faces? ^note Enter Murderers.

First Mur. ^note
Where is your husband?

L. Macd.
I hope, in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.

First Mur.
He's a traitor.

Son.
Thou liest, thou shag-ear'd ^note villain!

First Mur.
What, you egg! [Stabbing him. ^note
Young fry of treachery!

Son.
He has ^note kill'd me, mother:
Run away, I pray ^note you! [Dies. ^note [Exit ^note Lady Macduff, crying ‘Murder!’ Exeunt murderers, following her. ^note

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