SON     Was my father a traitor, mother?

WIFE   Ay, that he was.

SON     What is a traitor?

WIFE   Why, one that swears and lies.

SON     And be all traitors that do so?

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

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

WIFE   Every one.

SON     Who must hang them?

WIFE   Why, the honest men.

SON     Then the liars and swearers are fools, for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men and hang up them.

WIFE   Now God help thee, poor monkey! But how wilt thou do for a father?

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

WIFE   Poor prattler, how thou talk’st!        (4.2.44-60)

 

This rings so true: the child has heard the word traitor (both Lady Macduff and Ross have just used it, but the suggestion is perhaps that it’s being whispered in the household), he knows it’s bad, but he doesn’t know what it means—and first, he has to test it out through a prism of the familiar, through his father, because that’s the most consequential thing for him, if this is bad, a bad word: was my father a traitor, mother? Lady Macduff steels herself: ay, that he was. Past tense. (Does she mean to the state or to his family?) What is a traitor? One that swears and lies.An age-appropriate explanation; she means swears in terms of swearing an oath (perhaps both an oath of allegiance to the king, and his vows made in marriage): a traitor is an oath-breaker. And be all traitors that do so? The boy seems to be trying it out, making sure he’s got it right, perhaps also with some of his own childish fibs in mind? Lady Macduff speaks again from bitter anger and hurt and fear: every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. Clarification sought again, but also a child’s compulsion to repeat: and must they all be hanged that swear and lie? All of them? Is there no way out, no bargaining possible? What if you say you’re sorry? Every one. (Although there’s potential for irony: this sharp, pragmatic, worldly woman knows that’s not the case, that people get away with terrible things.) Who must hang them? Who’s in charge? Why, the honest men. (More irony, surely, and notable that it’s not ‘the king’?) The son can be triumphant in his logic: then the liars and swearers are fools, for there are liars and swearers enough to beat the honest men and hang up them. But he also knows how the world goes, it seems, a child but not naïve, his parents’ son. He already knows that the world isn’t fair, or just, or honest and that the bad guys all too often win.

 

Now God help thee, poor monkey! The boy is young again, a cheeky monkey cuddled by his mum, who’s just holding it together. But how wilt thou do for a father? How are you feeling about all this? (What am I going to do? What are we going to do?) The son, bright and perceptive again: if he were dead, you’d weep for him. (Yes.) If you would not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new father. Cheeky, and trying to make his mother laugh. (And perhaps wondering about Ross?) Poor prattler, how thou talk’st! Get on with you, you don’t know what you’re saying. Shakespeare’s little boys are so real, especially as they chat away with their parents. Nostalgia, safety, closeness—family.