LADY MACDUFF. 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. 

 LADY MACDUFF. Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do for a father? 

 SON. Nay, how will you do for a husband? 

 LADY MACDUFF. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. 

 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. 

 SON. Was my father a traitor, mother? 

 LADY MACDUFF. Ay, that he was. 

 SON. What is a traitor? 

 LADY MACDUFF. Why, one that swears and lies. 

 SON. And be all traitors that do so? 

 LADY MACDUFF. Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. 

 SON. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? 

 LADY MACDUFF. Every one. 

 SON. Who must hang them? 

 LADY MACDUFF. Why, the honest men. 

 SON. Then the liars and swearers are fools: for there are liars and swearers enow 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? 

 SON. If he were dead, you’ld weep for him: if you would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father. 

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