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Macb. Saw you the weird sisters ?
Macb. Infected be the air, whereon they ride;
Len. 'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word, Macduff is fled to England.
Macb. Fled to England ?
Macb. Time, thou anticipat'st my dread exploits :
done : The castle of Macduff I will surprise : Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o'the sword His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls, That trace his line. No boasting like a fool; This deed I'll do, before this purpose cool : But no more sights !-Where are these gentlemen ? Come, bring me where they are.
SCENE II.-Fife. A Room in MACDUFF's Castle.
Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Rosse. L. Macd. What had he done, to make him fly the
Rosse. You must have patience, madam.
L. Macd. He had none :
Rosse. You know not,
Rosse. My dearest coz',
Lady Macd. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
It would be my disgrace, and your discomfort:
[Exit Rosse. 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 worms and flies? Son. With what I get, I mean; and so do they. L. Macd. Poor bird ! thou’dst never fear the net,
nor lime, The pit-fall, nor the gin. Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are
not set for. My father is not dead, for all your saying. L. Macd. Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a
father? Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband? L. Macd. Why, I can buy me twenty at any mar
ket. Son. Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. L. Macd. Thou speak'st with all thy wit; and yet
Son. Was my father a traitor, mother?
L. Macd. Every one, that does so, is a traitor, and must be hanged.
Son. And must they all be hanged, that swear and lie?
L. Macd. Every one.
Son. Who must hang them?
Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools : for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men, and hang up them.
L. Macd. Now God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father ?
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.
L. Macd. 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, 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. L. Macd. 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 What are these fa
Enteri Murderers. Mur. Where is your husband ?
L. Macd. I hope, in no place so unsanctified,
Mur. He's a traitor.
[Stabbing him. Young fry of treachery?
Son. He has killed me, mother: Run away, I pray you.
[Dies. [Exit Lady MACDUFF, crying murder, and
pursued by the Murderers.
SCENE III.- England. A Room in the King's Palace.
Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF. Mal. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there Weep our sad bosoms empty.
Macd. Let us rather
Mal. What I believe, I'll wail;