Reading Help THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH
`
` 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 rumor `
` 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 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. Everyone that does so is a traitor and must be `
` hanged. `
` SON. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? `
` LADY MACDUFF. Everyone. `
` 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 honor 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 defense, `
` To say I have done no harm -What are these faces? `
` `
` Enter Murtherers. `
` `
` FIRST MURTHERER. Where is your husband? `
` LADY MACDUFF. I hope, in no place so unsanctified `
` Where such as thou mayst find him. `
` FIRST MURTHERER. He's a traitor. `
` SON. Thou liest, thou shag-ear'd villain! `
` FIRST MURTHERER. What, you egg! `
` Stabs him. `
` Young fry of treachery! `
` SON. He has kill'd me, Mother. `
` Run away, I pray you! Dies. `
` Exit Lady Macduff, crying "Murther!" `
` Exeunt Murtherers, following her. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` SCENE III. `
` England. Before the King's palace. `
` `
` Enter Malcolm and Macduff. `
` `
` MALCOLM. Let us seek out some desolate shade and there `
` Weep our sad bosoms empty. `
` MACDUFF. Let us rather `
` Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men `
` Bestride our downfall'n birthdom. Each new morn `
` New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows `
` Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds `
` As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out `
` Like syllable of dolor. `
` MALCOLM. What I believe, I'll wall; `
` What know, believe; and what I can redress, `
` As I shall find the time to friend, I will. `
` What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. `
` This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, `
` Was once thought honest. You have loved him well; `
` He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young, but something `
` You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom `
` To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb `
` To appease an angry god. `
` MACDUFF. I am not treacherous. `
` MALCOLM. But Macbeth is. `
` A good and virtuous nature may recoil `
` In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon; `
` That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose. `
` Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell. `
` Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, `
` Yet grace must still look so. `
` MACDUFF. I have lost my hopes. `
` MALCOLM. Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. `
` Why in that rawness left you wife and child, `
` Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, `
` Without leave-taking? I pray you, `
` Let not my jealousies be your dishonors, `
` But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, `
` Whatever I shall think. `
` MACDUFF. Bleed, bleed, poor country! `
` Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, `
` For goodness dare not check thee. Wear thou thy wrongs; `
` The title is affeer'd. Fare thee well, lord. `
` I would not be the villain that thou think'st `
` For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp `
` And the rich East to boot. `
` MALCOLM. Be not offended; `
` I speak not as in absolute fear of you. `
` I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; `
` It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash `
` Is added to her wounds. I think withal `
` There would be hands uplifted in my right; `
` And here from gracious England have I offer `
` Of goodly thousands. But for all this, `
` When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, `
` Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country `
` Shall have more vices than it had before, `
` More suffer and more sundry ways than ever, `
` By him that shall succeed. `
` MACDUFF. What should he be? `
` MALCOLM. It is myself I mean, in whom I know `
` All the particulars of vice so grafted `
` That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth `
` Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state `
` Esteem him as a lamb, being compared `
` With my confineless harms. `
` MACDUFF. Not in the legions `
` Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd `
` In evils to top Macbeth. `
` MALCOLM. I grant him bloody, `
` Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, `
` Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin `
` That has a name. But there's no bottom, none, `
` In my voluptuousness. Your wives, your daughters, `
` Your matrons, and your maids could not fill up `
` The cestern of my lust, and my desire `
` All continent impediments would o'erbear `
` That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth `
` Than such an one to reign. `
` MACDUFF. Boundless intemperance `
` In nature is a tyranny; it hath been `
` The untimely emptying of the happy throne, `
` And fall of many kings. But fear not yet `
` To take upon you what is yours. You may `
` Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty `
` And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. `
` We have willing dames enough; there cannot be `
` That vulture in you to devour so many `
` As will to greatness dedicate themselves, `
` Finding it so inclined. `
`
` 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 rumor `
` 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 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. Everyone that does so is a traitor and must be `
` hanged. `
` SON. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? `
` LADY MACDUFF. Everyone. `
` 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 honor 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 defense, `
` To say I have done no harm -What are these faces? `
` `
` Enter Murtherers. `
` `
` FIRST MURTHERER. Where is your husband? `
` LADY MACDUFF. I hope, in no place so unsanctified `
` Where such as thou mayst find him. `
` FIRST MURTHERER. He's a traitor. `
` SON. Thou liest, thou shag-ear'd villain! `
` FIRST MURTHERER. What, you egg! `
` Stabs him. `
` Young fry of treachery! `
` SON. He has kill'd me, Mother. `
` Run away, I pray you! Dies. `
` Exit Lady Macduff, crying "Murther!" `
` Exeunt Murtherers, following her. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` SCENE III. `
` England. Before the King's palace. `
` `
` Enter Malcolm and Macduff. `
` `
` MALCOLM. Let us seek out some desolate shade and there `
` Weep our sad bosoms empty. `
` MACDUFF. Let us rather `
` Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men `
` Bestride our downfall'n birthdom. Each new morn `
` New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows `
` Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds `
` As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out `
` Like syllable of dolor. `
` MALCOLM. What I believe, I'll wall; `
` What know, believe; and what I can redress, `
` As I shall find the time to friend, I will. `
` What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. `
` This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, `
` Was once thought honest. You have loved him well; `
` He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young, but something `
` You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom `
` To offer up a weak, poor, innocent lamb `
` To appease an angry god. `
` MACDUFF. I am not treacherous. `
` MALCOLM. But Macbeth is. `
` A good and virtuous nature may recoil `
` In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon; `
` That which you are, my thoughts cannot transpose. `
` Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell. `
` Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, `
` Yet grace must still look so. `
` MACDUFF. I have lost my hopes. `
` MALCOLM. Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. `
` Why in that rawness left you wife and child, `
` Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, `
` Without leave-taking? I pray you, `
` Let not my jealousies be your dishonors, `
` But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, `
` Whatever I shall think. `
` MACDUFF. Bleed, bleed, poor country! `
` Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure, `
` For goodness dare not check thee. Wear thou thy wrongs; `
` The title is affeer'd. Fare thee well, lord. `
` I would not be the villain that thou think'st `
` For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp `
` And the rich East to boot. `
` MALCOLM. Be not offended; `
` I speak not as in absolute fear of you. `
` I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; `
` It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash `
` Is added to her wounds. I think withal `
` There would be hands uplifted in my right; `
` And here from gracious England have I offer `
` Of goodly thousands. But for all this, `
` When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, `
` Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country `
` Shall have more vices than it had before, `
` More suffer and more sundry ways than ever, `
` By him that shall succeed. `
` MACDUFF. What should he be? `
` MALCOLM. It is myself I mean, in whom I know `
` All the particulars of vice so grafted `
` That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth `
` Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state `
` Esteem him as a lamb, being compared `
` With my confineless harms. `
` MACDUFF. Not in the legions `
` Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd `
` In evils to top Macbeth. `
` MALCOLM. I grant him bloody, `
` Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, `
` Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin `
` That has a name. But there's no bottom, none, `
` In my voluptuousness. Your wives, your daughters, `
` Your matrons, and your maids could not fill up `
` The cestern of my lust, and my desire `
` All continent impediments would o'erbear `
` That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth `
` Than such an one to reign. `
` MACDUFF. Boundless intemperance `
` In nature is a tyranny; it hath been `
` The untimely emptying of the happy throne, `
` And fall of many kings. But fear not yet `
` To take upon you what is yours. You may `
` Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty `
` And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. `
` We have willing dames enough; there cannot be `
` That vulture in you to devour so many `
` As will to greatness dedicate themselves, `
` Finding it so inclined. `
`