The Tragedy of Macbeth Part II Read online

  Contents

  INTRODUCTION

  ACT I

  SCENE I

  SCENE II

  SCENE III

  SCENE IV

  SCENE V

  SCENE VI

  SCENE VII

  ACT II

  SCENE I

  SCENE II

  SCENE III

  SCENE IV

  SCENE V

  ACT III

  SCENE I

  SCENE II

  SCENE III

  SCENE IV

  SCENE V

  ACT IV

  SCENE I

  SCENE II

  SCENE III

  ACT V

  SCENE I

  SCENE II

  SCENE III

  SCENE IV

  SCENE V

  SCENE VI

  SCENE VII

  SCENE VIII

  SCENE IX

  SCENE X

  SCENE XI

  INTRODUCTION

  Some time ago, I set out to adapt Macbeth for the screen and spent months dissecting the text, grappling with every line and word. While contemplating both the opening (the witches’ prophecy) and the conclusion (Malcolm’s ascent as king), I was struck by a realization: Macbeth is unfinished. The prophecy which initiates the play’s action proclaims first that Macbeth will be king and then that Banquo’s children will be kings. Macbeth indeed becomes Scotland’s king—and yet Banquo’s prophecy remains unfulfilled. The play ends, oddly, with Banquo’s seed nowhere in sight and with a third party, Malcolm, ascending to the throne.

  One might argue that not all of the witches’ prophecies were meant to come to pass. Yet throughout Macbeth the witches’ other prophecies, no matter how twisted, are all fulfilled on stage (even Birnam Wood manages to “move” as they predict). One might argue that Banquo’s prophecy is insignificant, a mere historical footnote in the play. Yet if this were the case, why would Shakespeare go to such lengths to dramatize a scene in which Banquo is murdered and his child, Fleance, escapes (thus leaving the door open for his future ascent)? The prophecy regarding Banquo’s child is, in fact, ubiquitous in the play, as Macbeth dwells obsessively on the ascent of “the seed of Banquo.” Indeed, the very reason Macbeth cannot find peace as king is because his mind is fixated on the moment when Banquo’s prophecy will come to pass, when Banquo’s seed will take his throne.

  One might, then, try to dismiss all of this as merely an oversight by Shakespeare, argue that he simply forgot to resolve this particular plot line in the play. But would the greatest of English dramatists, who was careful with every syllable, actually neglect to resolve an entire subplot, indeed, the very driving action of his play? If not, then did he have something else in mind? Could he have been preparing for a Macbeth, Part II?

  Struck by this possibility, I went back and reanalyzed the text of Macbeth, looking for any other clues that might point to Shakespeare’s preparing a sequel. I was shocked to discover two more compelling pieces of evidence. The first appears in Lady Macbeth’s famous monologue: “I have given suck and know/How tender ’tis to love the babe that milks me.” In this line, she tells us that she has a child. But then where is the child Macbeth? Why is he/she omitted from the play? Is the only child of a king and queen, the sole heir to the throne, so insignificant as to not merit any other mention?

  The other hint came in the character of Prince Donalbain (Malcolm’s brother). After their father, Duncan, is murdered by Macbeth, the two princes, both legitimately in line for the throne, agree to flee for safety’s sake in two directions: Malcolm, to England; Donalbain, to Ireland. Yet when Malcolm returns to oust Macbeth, Donalbain, oddly, does not join him. And when Malcolm ascends to the throne at the play’s end, his prince brother is nowhere in sight. Why would Shakespeare keep Donalbain in Ireland? And why end Macbeth on this note?

  Was Shakespeare thrice careless? Or could the playwright known for multipart plays (Henry IV, Part I and II, Henry VI, Part I, II and III), have also had in mind a Macbeth, Part II?

  The concept haunted me. The more I thought about it, the more I felt that these plot elements were substantial enough to justify a play in their own right: an unfulfilled prophecy; a child Macbeth; a boy destined to be king; the princely Donalbain suspiciously in Ireland while his brother sits on the Scottish throne; the newly crowned Malcolm, the bereft Macduff, the devious Seyton. And, of course, the three witches. They are, in fact, among a very rare group of villains whom Shakespeare leaves to live another day.

  I pondered what medium could best suit such a sequel. I could not envision a sequel to Macbeth written in contemporary English or in the form of a novel. Too much would be lost in the conversion process; it would become something else. Any attempt at a sequel, I felt, should be as true to its Shakespearean model as possible. I concluded that it should appear in the same form as Macbeth: as a play, in the traditional Shakespearean five-act structure, in Elizabethan English, and in blank verse.

  It obviously took much more deliberation before I could summon the resolve to go forth. Despite my enthusiasm for the concept, I had an enormously hard time with the idea of approaching Shakespeare’s work. It felt like sacrilege. Then I thought long and hard of Shakespeare’s life, and realized that when he himself—a slightly-educated, minor actor—attempted to write a play, he was excoriated, brandished an “upstart crow,” criticized for even daring to attempt to write in blank verse (supposedly to be reserved only for those with a university education). As Ben Johnson said, he “had small Latin, and less Greek.”

  But this was precisely his virtue. Shakespeare was not a scholar, and he did not write for the academic elite. He was of the people. Undeterred by the rigid societal pressure of “what should be” and “what shouldn’t be,” he followed what was, for him, a more important route: pursuing his artistic vision with fervor, whatever the consequence. Qualified or not, he jumped in and attempted something brash. I think that Shakespeare (as both actor and writer) would, with a wink, be the first to encourage someone to attempt a Macbeth, Part II.

  The Tragedy of Macbeth, Part II is not a scholarly endeavor; it is an artistic one, meant both to pick up where Macbeth left off and to stand as a complete play in its own right. It is my hope that it will be enjoyed by actors, directors, and theater companies eager to grapple with a new text, to play new roles, and by theatergoers eager to watch them. So many people around the world love the cadences of blank verse. Yet there has been scarce new material for 400 years.

  I think it’s time we gave them something.

  For Banquo’s issue have I filed my mind;

  For them the gracious Duncan have I murder’d …

  Only for them …

  To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!

  —Macbeth

  Year

  1060

  Dramatis Personae

  MALCOLM

  MACDUFF

  SEYTON

  SIWARD

  LENNOX

  ANGUS

  ROSS

  DONALBAIN

  FLEANCE

  CAWDOR

  LADY MALCOLM

  NURSE

  FIONA

  SYNA

  DOCTOR

  PORTER

  THREE WITCHES

  THREE MURDERERS

  TWO PETITIONERS

  SUITOR

  SUITOR’S FATHER

  TWO GUARDS

  SIX CROWD MEMBERS

  ATTENDANTS

  MESSENGERS

  GHOST OF MACBETH

  GHOST OF BANQUO

  SCENE I

  Heath at sunset.

  Enter Three Witches.

  FIRST WITCH Now that we three meet again, No thunder, lightning, a
bsent rain.

  SECOND WITCH No wars that rage, no plague that spreads, no envied crown, no sleepless beds.

  THIRD WITCH The hurly-burly now is done, the battle has been lost and won.

  ALL Sink down, now, the setting sun.

  FIRST WITCH Invite a fog, let it rise, bring for Malcolm slow demise.

  SECOND WITCH A lizard’s eye, a drop of sage, lend this Malcolm baseless rage.

  THIRD WITCH A tiger’s claw, berries tart, seal this king a blackened heart.

  FIRST WITCH An eagle’s spine, a cup of sand, spark new wars throughout the land.

  ALL Fair is foul, and foul is fair, Hover in fog and filthy air. Exeunt.

  SCENE II

  Dunsinane.

  Malcolm, seated, with Attendants.

  Enter Macduff, Seyton, Siward, Lennox, Angus and Attendants.

  ALL God save the King!

  MALCOLM Welcome, dear counsel. But why such haste?

  LENNOX My liege, a band of men has formed about Fleance.

  ANGUS They head for the sea.

  SEYTON ’Tis a dangerous mob, and it will swell before it touches the shore.

  MALCOLM Fleance then rebuffed our invitation?

  LENNOX He said he would ne’er again grace the walls of Dunsinane.

  SEYTON ’Tis a sharp rebuke, the prologue to some greater action. We must strike now, before this worm becomes a snake.

  MALCOLM Macduff, you are silent.

  MACDUFF Forgive, my lord. It is my language since the murder of the ones I loved.

  MALCOLM Shall we strike Fleance?

  MACDUFF No, my lord.

  SEYTON Traitor! Macduff draws.

  MACDUFF This sword will take your head as swift as took it Macbeth’s.

  MALCOLM Stay, Macduff. Seyton, allow his speech.

  MACDUFF Fleance’s gathering is but a few dozen souls. They pose no threat to your great throne. They head away from Dunsinane, not towards.

  SEYTON In order to regroup on some other shore.

  MACDUFF You are a mighty king, my liege.You have no reason to fear an absconding boy.

  SEYTON This boy is now a man, and thinks manly thoughts.

  MACDUFF Shall Scotland see a king grown so uncertain of his throne that he’d unleash an army ’gainst a pack of men?

  SEYTON Shall Scotland watch a king afraid to stop rebellion in his midst? A cheer.

  MALCOLM What noise is that outside my window?

  ANGUS A throng has camped to celebrate your reign. ’Tis ten years today since your ascent.

  MALCOLM Is it today? Then this day also marks the anniversary of Macbeth’s fall. O, two-headed day! God has graced us with ten quiet years. Scotland thrives; Norway dares not attack; and the reign of the Macbeths doth fade from memory. The land now lies content, except in its need of an heir, which I will soon provide. Stalk Fleance; but do not attack. He has commited no crime. Graver the danger that I become the likeness of Macbeth than that a boy-man dream of breaching Dunsinane.

  SEYTON My lord, the danger lies not in Fleance’s present strength; it lies in the prophecy that he, not you, shall inherit Scotland’s throne.

  MALCOLM Let us declare our days of prophecy concluded. Scotland has prospered without such dark omens, and the witches’ words have proved false.

  SEYTON But, my liege—

  MALCOLM I have spoken.

  Enter Ross.

  ROSS God save the King.

  MALCOLM What news from Ireland? How fares my dear brother?

  ROSS News which shames me to report, my lord. A massive army forms ’round Donalbain.

  MALCOLM For what purpose?

  ROSS I know not, and thus urge temperance. Yet a host of ships rests on their shore, and they all point towards Scotland.

  SIWARD What!

  SEYTON Traitor!

  LENNOX Villain!

  MALCOLM Even so?

  ROSS We do not know their purpose, my lord.

  MACDUFF Ships set on a shore do not in themselves prove ill intent.

  SIWARD What other intent could there be?

  LENNOX If peaceful, he would have forewarned.

  MACDUFF Perhaps it was gathered in haste.

  SEYTON In haste to conquer Dunsinane. You would have Donalbain’s army pounding on our gates and wonder at his intent.

  MALCOLM Enough! Are not my brother and I two halves of one same Duncan? I cannot imagine he aims for my throne.

  MACDUFF He is a noble soul, kind, valiant, honest.

  MALCOLM Yet ’tis strange he never returned to Scotland.

  SEYTON But ’tis not, my lord: for if your brother was devoid of princely ambition, surely he would have returned, as one brother to another, to the land of his birth. If he lacked the lust for power, he would have warned of his intent—indeed, would not have massed such arms. The truest villain does not reveal himself until the moment meet for his desire—and for this the truest will wait a lifetime.

  MALCOLM Proceed to Ireland, noble Ross. Tell my brother to return to Scotland at once, alone, so that I may interrogate his intent. Exit Ross.

  SEYTON It is a fool’s errand, my lord. He will return, but with men in tow. We must prepare a defense, not grant him time to launch.

  MALCOLM I have spoken. Go to. Exeunt.

  MALCOLM Macduff? Macduff remains.

  MALCOLM You knew my brother well. What do you see in this?

  MACDUFF No foul purpose. Except in Seyton. He sees in your brother what he hides in himself. Exit Macduff.

  MALCOLM O Donalbain! In these halls of flatterers, a brother’s love is what I long for most—yet what, as king, I am least safe to have. If the witches had foretold that I’d be king, then would there still sit such unrest? Are not ten years enough to kill the flame of speculation? … Not even in myself. As king, I mock their prophecy; as man and witness, I cannot forget. I do fear Fleance, but that I do my men can never know; I do suspect Donalbain; Seyton and Siward have lately grown too bold; and Norway is not as still as I pretend. O, unstable anniversary! I am enthroned by right, but not by fate—and fate is yet the stronger of the two. Why then, I shall challenge fate. What’s done can be undone; what’s proclaimed, proclaimed again. What better way to quell a prophecy than with another? I shall find the witches, and if by right am I king, what prophecy can form but one triumphant, filled with omens fair? Fleance, I need not net you with my men—old ladies’ words will do the work as well. What they’ve spun for you, they’ll spin for me. Head I there with alacrity. Exit Malcolm.

  SCENE III

  Witches’ place.

  Enter Malcolm.

  MALCOLM This mist of hell confounds. Swore I the hags lived in this place; yet days of searching bear no fruit. Perchance times of prophecy have long since concluded.

  Enter Three Witches.

  FIRST WITCH Hail to thee, King of Scotland!

  SECOND WITCH Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!

  THIRD WITCH Hail to thee, master of Macbeth!

  MALCOLM Can it be? Hear me, sisters. I have come—

  FIRST WITCH You speak when you should listen.

  SECOND WITCH You listen but hear not.

  THIRD WITCH You look but see not.

  MALCOLM Do not declaim in riddles. I beseech, if nights of prophecy have not been stopped, then I, as king, command: lend me your clouded vision and ope my fate. O agents of darkness! Grant me a prophecy to slay Macbeth’s. Speak for me a future, one greater yet more permanent; one grander yet more secure.

  ALL Triple, triple, toil and trouble, fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

  FIRST WITCH Look to Ireland; from there will hail your sorrows. An army shall your brother march through the shades of Birnam Wood.

  SECOND WITCH Look to the black church: you will love Macbeth, and love in marriage will divide.

  THIRD WITCH No man can kill you but Cawdor.

  MALCOLM Stay, imperfect speakers! Stay! Pronounce more clearly! I demand! Witches vanish.

  MALCOLM They have sunk again into the bog; yet their evil residue
remains. O Donalbain! Would you march a troop ’gainst your other half? I will prepare. A black church? Love Macbeth? Nonsense—I cannot love a ghost. None can kill me but Cawdor. There is the heart of it. Being Cawdor I shall not attack myself. Thus am I secure in what can never be. See, Banquo, you were wrong: your seed shall not sow kings. I alone am king! Exit Malcolm.

  SCENE IV

  Ireland.

  Enter Ross, Donalbain and Soldiers.

  ROSS Hail to thee, Prince Donalbain!

  DONALBAIN It warms my heart to see a living thing from Scotland. Ireland is now my home, yet the Highlands sit deep in my heart.

  ROSS Sire, is this why you have amassed these men, which were absent when last we met? Have you your brother’s throne set in your sights?

  DONALBAIN Art thou mad? Ha! Nonsense! Indeed! My brother sits as rightful king; my seat lies in the shadow of the throne. Gladly so. For I have studied the missteps of Macbeth and thus have settled here in Ireland; unreservedly, then, my brother can rule, free from the threat of Duncan’s other half. The second-born brother must prop the first. That is why I have gathered these men. We have received ill news of Norway’s approach. She means to catch sweet Malcolm unaware, as a violent storm upon a peaceful sea. Grace be to God we have netted this scroll. (hands him scroll) Read how it commands one ship to meet the other. I shall not rest whilst my dear brother lies in danger. I have thus lev’raged my purse to recruit this loyal throng. We shall soon sail for home, and lend our lives to him.

  ROSS I am thus more shamed by the news I bear.

  DONALBAIN A message?

  ROSS From your brother.

  DONALBAIN Out with it.

  ROSS He is suspect of your intent, and demands a private audience.

  DONALBAIN Suspect? Of a brother?

  ROSS I shame to speak.

  DONALBAIN Suspect? Of his flesh?

  ROSS Your prolonged absence, and now this sudden army—they have grown as thorns upon his reason.

  DONALBAIN Others prick too, I’m sure: Seyton, Siward?

  ROSS I do not deny. For he is flocked by men of little trust, and in you, the wayward prince, they have found a subject.

  DONALBAIN The too-worn walls of Dunsinane, soaked with evil and disturbances past, are no place for a king to sleep. My father’s ghost, perplexed by a life stopped short, mingles with those of foul Macbeth and his wicked queen. No castle wall, no parapet or porter’s gate could contain these spirits’ malcontent.