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?
Where should I go?
I’ve done no wrong. But I remember now
I am in this earthly world, where doing harm
is often praised, and to do good is seen
as silly and dangerous. Why do I even bother
to put up a womanly defense by saying
I have done no harm?
Enter Murderers
What are these faces?
Who are these people?
First Murderer
Where is your husband?
Where is your husband?
LADY MACDUFF
I hope, in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.
I hope he’s not in an unholy place
where people like you can find him.
First Murderer
He's a traitor.
He’s a traitor.
Son
Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain!
You lie, you shaggy haired villain!
First Murderer
What, you egg!
What! You egg!
Stabbing him
Young fry of treachery!
You son of treachery!
Son
He has kill'd me, mother:
Run away, I pray you!
He has killed me, mother—
I beg you to run away!
Dies
Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, following her
England. Before the King's Palace.
Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF
MALCOLM
Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there
Weep our sad bosoms empty.
Let’s find a dismal shady place and sit down
and cry our hearts out.
MACDUFF
Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men
Bestride our down-fall'n 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 yell'd out
Like syllable of dolour.
Let’s hold onto our swords, instead, and defend
our fallen birthplace like good men. Every new day,
new widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows
slap heaven on the face so loudly that it sounds
as if heaven feels Scotland’s pain and cries out in grief.
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 touch'd you yet. I am young;
but something
You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom
To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb
To appease an angry god.
I deplore what I believe is wrong. I believe what I know.
I will set right what I can when I find the proper time.
What you just said might be true. This tyrant, whose name
blisters our tongues, was once considered honest.
You were loved by him. He hasn’t touched you yet.
I am young and don’t know much, but maybe
you want something from him and you’re thinking
it might be wise to offer up a poor, innocent lamb
like myself to please the angry god-like Macbeth.
MACDUFF
I am not treacherous.
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.
But Macbeth is. A good and honest nature might
shrink back under a royal order. But I beg your pardon—
just because I’m thinking it doesn’t make it so.
Angels are still bright even though the brightest angel fell.
And although everything that is bad would like to appear like grace,
Grace must look like grace, too.
MACDUFF
I have lost my hopes.
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.
Maybe you lost them where I found my doubts.
Why did you leave your wife and children
in that cruel place—those precious reasons
for being, those strong ties of love—without
saying goodbye? But please don’t feel shame
because of my suspicions. I’m just trying
to keep myself safe. You may be entirely just
and good, despite what I think.
MACDUFF
Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou
thy wrongs;
The title is affeer'd! 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.
Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny! You’ve lain a such a solid
foundation that good people will not even dare
to try and control you. Wear your wrongs easily
because your title is not in danger. Goodbye, lord.
I would not be the villain you think I am for
everything in that tyrant’s grasp, with the wealth
of the East thrown in, as well.
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.
Please don’t be offended. I’m not saying these things
because I completely distrust you. I think our country
sinks under the weight of Macbeth’s oppression.
It weeps, it bleeds, and each day a deep new cut
is added to her wounds. I think many men
would volunteer to fight in my name. England
has offered thousands of good soldiers. Still,
when I place my boot upon Macbeth’s head,
or wear it on my sword, my poor country will
still have more troubles than it had before.
There will be more suffering in more ways
than now under he who follows Macbeth.
MACDU
FF
What should he be?
Who would that be?
MALCOLM
It is myself I mean: in whom I know
All the particulars of vice so grafted
That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth
Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state
Esteem him as a lamb, being compared
With my confineless harms.
It is myself I refer to. I know all of the faults
in myself that—once revealed—will make
evil Macbeth seem as pure as snow, and
the poor country will see him as a lamb
compared with what I am capable of doing.
MACDUFF
Not in the legions
Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd
In evils to top Macbeth.
Not in all of hell can come a devil capable of outdoing 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.
It’s true, he is murderous, lecherous, greedy, lying,
deceitful, unpredictable, malicious, and carries
every sin that can be named. But there’s no bottom—
none—to my own lustfulness: your wives, your daughters,
your dignified older women and your young women could
not possible fill the deep well of my lust. My desire
would overcome all resistance and obstacles,
I would so impose my will. You’d be better off
with Macbeth than with someone like me.
MACDUFF
Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny; it hath been
The 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.
Boundless lack of control of lustful desires
is a sort of tyranny. It has resulted in the premature
emptying of the throne and the fall of many
kings. But don’t fear taking the crown that is yours.
You many find your pleasure everywhere and still
appear cold. No one needs to know. You can deceive
them. We have many willing women—you couldn’t
possibly devour so many as will give themselves
to the king, once they know he desires them.
MALCOLM
With this there grows
In my most ill-composed affection such
A stanchless 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.
Along with being incredibly lustful, I am
also extremely greedy. If I were the king,
I should take away nobleman’s land.
I would desire his jewels and another’s house.
The more I got, the more I would want.
I would create arguments between good
and loyal men so they would be destroyed
and I would gain their 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 weigh'd.
This greed you speak of goes deeper
than the lust, and it will remain longer,
unlike lust. It has been the end to many kings.
Still, don’t worry. Scotland has a great number
of riches to satisfy you. These things can easily
be dealt with, and your strengths outweigh them.
MALCOLM
But I have none: the king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, 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.
But I don’t have any of the graces kings
require, like justice, truth, self-restraint,
stableness, generosity, mercy, humbleness,
devotion, patience, courage, strength—I have
none of them, but I have plenty of each
of the vices which act out in every way.
Don’t doubt it: if I had the power, I would
throw harmony to hell, upset the universal
peace, and defeat all unity on earth.
MACDUFF
O Scotland, Scotland!
Oh, Scotland! Scotland!
MALCOLM
If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
I am as I have spoken.
If you think such a person as me is fit
to rule, then say so. I am what I say I am.
MACDUFF
Fit to govern!
No, not to live. O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd,
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,
Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,
Died every day she lived. Fare thee well!
These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself
Have banish'd me from Scotland. O my breast,
Thy hope ends here!
Fit to govern!
You are not even fit to live! Oh, miserable nation
with an untitled bloody-handed tyrant on the throne,
when will you see wholesome days again,
since the true birthright of the throne, by his
own admission, is cursed and a disgrace to his own
family. Your royal father, Duncan, was worthy
of being a saint. Your mother, the queen, was on
her knees in prayer more often than on her feet,
she felt so indifferent to worldly things. Good-bye!
These evils you say you have in yourself have
driven me out of Scotland. Oh, my heart.
The 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?
Macduff, this noble outburst on your part reveals
your integrity. It’s wiped away the dark doubts
that were in my soul, and has restored thoughts
of you as truthful and honest. The devil, Macbeth,
has often tried to win me to his side with skills
of deception. Because of that, I try to be wise
and not believe too quickly. But with God’s blessing,
I would join with you. I take back all the things
I just told you about me. The faults I listed
are not in me. I am still a virgin, I’ve never lied.
I hardly care about the things I own, let alone
the possessions of others. I’ve never gone back
on my word, would not betray the devil himself,
and take as much pleasure in truth as I do in life.
Telling you the things I told you was my first lie.
Who I truly am is ready to be at your poor
country’s command. Indeed, before you came
here, old Siward and ten thousand soldiers
were already gathered and setting forth.
Now we can fight together, and may the chance
of success equal that of our justified dispute.
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 584