Macbeth (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
The Tragedie of Macbeth.
145
¶Lenox. No my Lord.
¶Macb. Came they not by you?
¶Lenox. No indeed my Lord.
1690Macb. Infected be the Ayre whereon they ride,
¶The gallopping of Horse. Who was't came by?
¶Len. 'Tis two or three my Lord, that bring you word:
¶Macduff is fled to England.
1695Macb. Fled to England?
¶Len. I, my good Lord.
¶The flighty purpose neuer is o're-tooke
¶The firstlings of my hand. And euen now
¶To Crown my thoughts with Acts: be it thoght & done:
¶Seize vpon Fife; giue to th' edge o'th' Sword
1705His Wife, his Babes, and all vnfortunate Soules
¶That trace him in his Line. No boasting like a Foole,
¶This deed Ile do, before this purpose coole,
¶Come bring me where they are.
Exeunt
1710
Scena Secunda.
¶
Enter Macduffes Wife, her Son, and Rosse.
¶Wife. What had he done, to make him fly the Land?
¶Wife. He had none:
¶Our feares do make vs Traitors.
¶Rosse. You know not
¶Whether it was his wisedome, or his feare.
1720His Mansion, and his Titles, in a place
¶From whence himselfe do's flye? He loues vs not,
¶He wants the naturall touch. For the poore Wren
¶(The most diminitiue of Birds) will fight,
1725All is the Feare, and nothing is the Loue;
¶As little is the Wisedome, where the flight
¶But cruell are the times, when we are Traitors
¶And do not know our selues: when we hold Rumor
¶From what we feare, yet know not what we feare,
1735But floate vpon a wilde and violent Sea
¶Each way, and moue. I take my leaue of you:
¶Shall not be long but Ile be heere againe:
¶To what they were before. My pretty Cosine,
¶Wife. Father'd he is,
1745I take my leaue at once.
Exit Rosse.
¶Wife. Sirra, your Fathers dead,
¶And what will you do now? How will you liue?
¶Son. As Birds do Mother.
¶Wife. What with Wormes, and Flyes?
¶Wife. Poore Bird,
¶Thou'dst neuer Feare the Net, nor Lime,
¶The Pitfall, nor the Gin.
1755Poore Birds they are not set for:
¶My Father is not dead for all your saying.
¶Wife. Yes, he is dead:
¶How wilt thou do for a Father?
1760Wife. Why I can buy me twenty at any Market.
¶And yet I'faith with wit enough for thee.
¶Son. Was my Father a Traitor, Mother?
1765Wife. I, that he was.
¶Son. What is a Traitor?
1770And must be hang'd.
¶Wife. Euery one.
1775Son. Then the Liars and Swearers are Fools: for there
¶are Lyars and Swearers enow, to beate the honest men,
¶and hang vp them.
¶Wife. Now God helpe thee, poore Monkie:
¶But how wilt thou do for a Father?
1780Son. If he were dead, youl'd weepe for him: if you
¶haue a new Father.
¶
Enter a Messenger.
¶Though in your state of Honor I am perfect;
¶I doubt some danger do's approach you neerely.
¶If you will take a homely mans aduice,
¶Be not found heere: Hence with your little ones
1790To fright you thus. Me thinkes I am too sauage:
¶To do worse to you, were fell Cruelty,
¶I dare abide no longer.
Exit Messenger
1795I haue done no harme. But I remember now
¶I am in this earthly world: where to do harme
¶Is often laudable, to do good sometime
¶Accounted dangerous folly. Why then (alas)
¶Do I put vp that womanly defence,
1800To say I haue done no harme?
¶What are these faces?
¶
Enter Murtherers.
¶Mur. He's a Traitor.
¶Mur. What you Egge?
¶Yong fry of Treachery?
1810Son. He ha's kill'd me Mother,
¶Run away I pray you.
Exit crying Murther.
Scena
