William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (445 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare

BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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LENNOX Ay, my good lord.
MACBETH (
aside
)
Time, thou anticipat‘st my dread exploits.
The flighty purpose never is o’ertook
Unless the deed go with it. From this moment
The very firstlings of my heart shall be
The firstlings of my hand. And even now,
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and
done: 165
The castle of Macduff I will surprise,
Seize upon Fife, give to th‘edge o’th’ sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
This deed I’ll do before this purpose cool.
But no more sights! (To Lennox) Where are these
gentlemen?
Come bring me where they are.
Exeunt
4.2
Enter Macduff’s Wife, 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’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 rumour
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!
LADY MACDUFF
Fathered 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?
MACDUFF’S SON
As birds do, mother.
LADY MACDUFF What, with worms and flies?
MACDUFF’S SON
With what I get, I mean, and so do they.
LADY MACDUFF
Poor bird, thou’dst never fear the net nor lime,
The pitfall nor the gin.
MACDUFF’S 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?
MACDUFF’S SON Nay, how will you do for a husband?
LADY MACDUFF Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
MACDUFF’S 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.
MACDUFF’S SON Was my father a traitor, mother?
LADY MACDUFF Ay, that he was.
MACDUFF’S SON What is a traitor?
LADY MACDUFF Why, one that swears and lies.
MACDUFF’S SON And be all traitors that do so?
LADY MACDUFF Everyone that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.
MACDUFF’S SON And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?
LADY MACDUFF Every one.
MACDUFF’S SON Who must hang them?
LADY MACDUFF Why, the honest men.
MACDUFF’S SON Then the liars and swearers are fools, for there are liars and swearers enough 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?
MACDUFF’S SON 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.
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 Messenger
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?
A MURDERER Where is your husband?
LADY MACDUFF
I hope in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.
A MURDERER
He’s a traitor.
MACDUFF’S SON
Thou liest, thou shag-haired villain.
A MURDERER (stabbing him)
What, you egg!
Young fry of treachery!
MACDUFF’S SON
He has killed me, mother.
Run away, I pray you.

He dies.⌉ Exit Macduff’s Wife crying ‘Murder!’
followed by Murderers

with the Son’s body

 
4.3
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 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 yelled out
Like syllable of dolour.
MALCOLM
What I believe I’ll wail,
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 touched you yet. I am young, but
something
You may discern of him through me: and wisdom
To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb
T’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 dishonours,
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 affeered. 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 opened 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 damned
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 cistern 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
Th’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.
MALCOLM
With this there grows
In my most ill-composed affection such
A staunchless avarice that were I king
I should cut off the nobles for their lands,
Desire his jewels and this other’s house,
And my more having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more, that I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.
MACDUFF
This avarice
Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been
The sword of our slain kings. Yet do not fear.
Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will
Of your mere own. All these are portable,
With other graces weighed.
MALCOLM
But I have none. The king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temp’rance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them, but abound
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power I should
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.
MACDUFF
O Scotland, Scotland!
MALCOLM
If such a one be fit to govern, speak.
I am as I have spoken.
MACDUFF
Fit to govern?
No, not to live. O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-sceptered,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction stands accursed
And does blaspheme his breed? Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king. The Queen that bore thee,
Oft‘ner upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she lived. Fare thee well.
These evils thou repeat’st upon thyself
Hath banished me from Scotland. O, my breast—
Thy hope ends here!
MALCOLM
Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wiped the black scruples, reconciled my thoughts
To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth
By many of these trains hath sought to win me
Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me
From over-credulous haste; but God above
Deal between thee and me, for even now
I put myself to thy direction and
Unspeak mine own detraction, here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself
For strangers to my nature. I am yet
Unknown to woman, never was forsworn,
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
At no time broke my faith, would not betray
The devil to his fellow, and delight
No less in truth than life. My first false-speaking
Was this upon myself. What I am truly
Is thine and my poor country’s to command,
Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Siward with ten thousand warlike men,
Already at a point, was setting forth.
Now we’ll together; and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel!—Why are you silent?

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