What you egg he stabs him act and scene

You know not Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.

You don’t know whether it was wisdom or fear that made him flee.

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.

Wisdom? Was it wise to leave his wife, his children, his house, and his titles in a place from which he himself flees? He doesn’t love us. He lacks the natural feelings of a husband and father. Even the fragile wren—the smallest of birds—will fight an owl to protect her young ones in the nest. Macduff’s running away has everything to do with fear and nothing to do with love. And since running away is contrary to all reason, it also must have nothing to do with wisdom.

My dearest coz, I pray you school yourself. But for your husband, He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows The fits o’ th’ 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 none. 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.

My dearest cousin, I beg you, control yourself. Your husband is noble, wise, and judicious, and understands the current political unrest. I don’t dare say anything more than this, but it is a bad time when people are denounced as traitors and have no idea why; when we believe rumors out of fear, but aren’t even sure what we’re afraid of. It’s like floating in a wild ocean storm, being tossed all around and getting nowhere. I must leave now, but it won’t be long before I return. When things are at their worst they must eventually end, or else improve to be like how they were before. My good cousin, I give my blessing to you.

Fathered he is, and yet he’s fatherless.

My son has a father, and yet he’s fatherless.

I am so much a fool, should I stay longer It would be my disgrace and your discomfort. I take my leave at once.

If I stay longer, I’ll disgrace myself and embarrass you by crying. I must leave now.

Sirrah, your father’s dead. And what will you do now? How will you live?

Little sir, your father’s dead. What will you do now? How will you live?

As birds do, Mother.

I’ll live as birds do, Mother.

What, with worms and flies?

What? You’ll eat worms and flies?

With what I get, I mean, and so do they.

I’ll live on whatever I get, like birds do.

Poor bird! Thou ’dst never fear the net nor lime, The pitfall nor the gin.

Oh, you pitiful bird! You wouldn’t know to fear any traps or snares set out by hunters.

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

Why should I fear them, Mother? Hunters do not try to catch pitiful birds. No matter what you say, my father is not dead.

Yes, he is dead. How wilt thou do for a father?

Yes, he’s dead. What will you do for a father?

Nay, how will you do for a husband?

No, what will you do for a husband?

Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.

Well, I can buy myself twenty husbands at any market.

Then you’ll buy ‘em to sell again.

If so, you’d be buying them to sell again.

Thou speak’st with all thy wit; and yet, i’ faith, With wit enough for thee.

You talk with all of your wit; and yet your wit is still that of a child.

Was my father a traitor, Mother?

What is a traitor?

Why, one that swears and lies.

Someone who makes a promise and breaks it.

And be all traitors that do so?

And is everyone who does that a traitor?

Every one that does so is a traitor and must be hanged.

Everyone who does so is a traitor and should be hanged.

And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?

And should everyone be hanged who makes and breaks promises?

Who must hang them?

Who should hang them?

Why, the honest men.

Then the liars and swearers are fools, for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men and hang up them.

Then the liars are fools, for there are enough liars in the world to defeat and hang the honest men.

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

[Laughing] Heaven help you, my poor little monkey! [Sad again] But what will you do for a father?

If he were dead, you’d weep for him. If you would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father.

If he were dead, you’d be weeping for him. If you aren’t weeping, it’s a good sign that I’ll soon have a new father.

Poor prattler, how thou talk’st!

My poor little chatterer, how you talk!

A MESSENGER enters.

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.

Bless you, fair lady! You don’t know me, but I know very well about your high social rank. I suspect something dangerous approaches you. If you’ll take a simple man’s advice, get out of here. Go away with your children. I think I am being too blunt to frighten you this way, but the cruelty that is already close to you will do much worse! Heaven help you! I don't dare to stay any longer.

The MESSENGER exits.

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?

Where should I run? I haven’t done anything wrong. But I remember now that I’m here on earth, where doing evil is often praised, and doing good is sometimes a foolish mistake. So why do I make this womanish defense that I’ve done no harm?

The MURDERERS enter.

What are these faces?

Why do you make such angry faces?

Where is your husband?

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

I hope he’s not anywhere so disgraceful that men like you could find him.

Thou liest, thou shag-ear’d villain!

You lie, you long-eared villain!

[stabbing him] What, you egg? Young fry of treachery!

[Stabbing him] What’s that, pipsqueak? Young son of a traitor!

He has killed me, mother. Run away, I pray you!

He has killed me, Mother. Run away, I beg you!