Page 2146 - Shakespeare - Vol. 3

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 cuz,
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, [20]
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!

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. [30]
Exit.

WIFE
Sirrah, your father’s dead.

And what will you do now? How will you live?

SON
As birds do, mother.

WIFE
What, with worms and flies?