Baby Itâs Cold Outside discourse is the same as Macbeth discourse.Â
Explain?
OK, so one of the big debates in Macbeth involves the scene in which Lady Macbeth talks Macbeth into killing King Duncan. People debate strenuously over whether itâs a scene of Lady M pressuring her reluctant husband into it, or whether itâs a scene of her sensing, due to their emotional intimacy, that this murder is something her husband secretly wants and has partially internally decided to do, and is arguing him into it in order to help him give himself permission to do it, in the same way that people see their loved ones wavering over the dessert menu and jump in with things like, âGo on, get the cheesecake, itâs your birthday!â Readers and scholars disagree strenuously about this - we even studied an incident in college in which two 18th century illustrators attended the same performance and happened to draw the scene the day after, producing two images that advanced opposite interpretations even though theyâd seen the exact same actors do the exact same performance. Itâs a big deal.
In the same way, the Baby, Itâs Cold Outside discourse is about whether this is a song about sexual harassment, or whether itâs a woman singing about how she wishes she could spend the night with the guy she just had an excellent date with if only the neighbors wouldnât talk, and him responding, âStay, baby, itâs cold out! No one could expect you to go home in this!â
I really donât know (baby stab his side) King Duncanâs a bro (baby cut through his hide) I like him a lot (That decrepit old sot?) This plan ainât so great (But what a king youâd make!)
The guards might worry (Darling, do it in a hurry!) His sons will rush the door (So knock them on the floor.)
Iâm not such a knave (Bash his head with a stave) But Iâd be a good king (Now youâre starting to think)
The dukes might all talk (But their chatter means naught) Say, love, what do you mean (Youâd make such a king)
I simply must go (baby cut through his hide) Thereâs a war on you know (baby cut through his hide)
But what of his wife? (And what of his life?) It feels like bad luck (But that donât mean much)
Iâve got a bad premonition (And Iâve got a mission) But thatâs just superstition (My love, youâre a vision)
The witches said Iâd rule (If they lied they were cruel) So baby letâs stab Stab his siiiiide!



















