ROSS                           —My pretty cousin,

Blessing upon you.

WIFE   Fathered 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 Ross         (4.2.25-30)

No matter how old the boy is—he’s perhaps being played by the same actor as Fleance; he’s precocious, articulate, pert like so many of Shakespeare’s boys (young Martius in Coriolanus, young York in Richard III, Arthur in King John, Mamillius in Winter’s Tale). Ross’s affectionate, sentimental address—my pretty cousin—makes the boy seem younger, and more vulnerable; giving him his blessing is the sort of thing that any departing adult might do, but would be particularly the prerogative of a father, and so Ross’s blessing upon you draws attention again to Macduff’s absence, and would lead naturally into Lady Macduff’s bitter observation: fathered he is and yet he’s fatherless. It’s as if she’s a single parent, as if Macduff has fathered his child (or children) and then simply abandoned his family, left them vulnerable and unprotected. Ross is upset, on the verge of tears—I am so much a fool (in being so moved, near tears) should I stay longer it would be my disgrace and your discomfort. I’d really make a fool of myself if I cried, and it’d embarrass you. I take my leave at once. And so Ross hurries away.

How many children has Lady Macduff? In performance, very often more than one, whether there are more child actors, or a cradle with a ‘baby’; sometimes she’s pregnant. This little family, its closeness, its domestic ordinariness, has to stand in stark contrast to the Macbeth household. Sometime Lady Macduff is folding washing or doing laundry, surrounded by the paraphernalia (sheets, towels, nappies, all white) of parenting, a good note in a play interested in stains and indelible spots.