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' the 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 move. 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 Father'd 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?
Son As birds do, mother.
LADY MACDUFF What, with worms and flies?
Son With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
LADY MACDUFF Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime,
The pitfall nor the gin.
Son Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
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