Macbeth Act IV Scene II
Storyboard Text
- FIF
- Fife, Macduff's Castle
- What had he done, to make him fly the land?
- You must have patience, madam.
- He had none: His plight was madness. When our actions do not, our fears make us traitors.
- You know not whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
- 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.
- 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 am so much a fool, should I stay longer, it would be my disgrace and your discomfort. I take my leave at once.
- Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
- Sirrah, your father's dead. And what will you do now? How will you live?
- What, with worms and flies?
- With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
- As birds do, Mother.
- Poor bird! Thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime, the pitfall nor the gin.
- Yes, he is dead. How wilt thou do for father?
- Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
- Thou speak'st with all thy wit, and yet, i' faith, with wit enough for thee.
- Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
- Nay, how will you do for a husband?
- Why should I, Mother? Poor birds they are not set for. My father is dead, for all your saying.
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