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The Tragedy of Macbeth, Part II: The Seed of Banquo

Page 14

by Noah Lukeman

FOURTH CROWD MEMBER What’s this? The sun is covered.

  SECOND CROWD MEMBER A blot upon the heavens! ’Tis

  unnatural!

  FIFTH CROWD MEMBER ’Tis said to be thus when a saint

  doth die.

  Bedroom.

  Malcolm watches from the window, weeping.

  Exeunt all.

  SCENE VI

  Scottish shore.

  Enter Fleance, Ross, Lennox, Angus and Soldiers.

  FLEANCE The fog rolls out to greet us, whilst our ship

  has barely touched the shore. A good sign.

  For the fog is to advantage when

  so greatly outmanned.

  ROSS Then Scotland comes to its own

  defense, in helping to oust its tyrant.

  LENNOX Look!

  In the fog!

  ANGUS What apparition’s this?

  ROSS It takes the form of your dead father.

  FLEANCE Banquo

  it is, come to greet his wayward son,

  to help conclude what he could not.

  ROSS What’s there?

  Behind him!

  LENNOX ’Tis an illusion. I spot eight kings.

  ANGUS The last holds a glass.

  ROSS The sisters thus

  did prophesy. The seed of Banquo stirs.

  Enter Cawdor’s Son and Soldiers.

  ROSS You there! No further.

  LENNOX What sort of welcoming

  party is this?

  FLEANCE By your brandished arms

  it appears you hail in Malcolm’s cause.

  CAWDOR’S SON No,

  our good Fleance. Forgive this dangerous show,

  as these arms are but the outward sign

  of our love on your behalf. We have

  come to aid you in your mission.

  FLEANCE Whence

  hail you?

  CAWDOR’S SON From a place no son should hope.

  You, sir, have the good fortune to hail from

  an illustrious father, whose cause you champion

  with equal valor. I’ve a father of

  another kind: alas, his very name

  doth shame the air.

  FLEANCE Speak it, then. Our time

  is short.

  CAWDOR’S SON Pray you, by the father do not

  hate the son: Cawdor is my lineage.

 

  ROSS What? Another Macbeth?

  CAWDOR’S SON No. My father

  was Cawdor first, he who betrayed Scotland

  for Norway in our time of need.

  LENNOX A traitor

  was he! Hanged by righteous Duncan.

  CAWDOR’S SON And

  rightfully so. I do not contest.

  Rather, I beseech, good Fleance, give me one chance

  to clear my family’s name. ’Tis the only

  name I own, and a father does not

  always a son make.

  ANGUS Do not trust him.

  His father was a treacherous villain.

  ROSS Such depth of treachery cannot erase

  in but a single generation. You’d risk

  all our fates to trust one so poor bred.

  FLEANCE What do you propose?

  CAWDOR’S SON I have here a hundredscore men,

  each one loyal, and each knowing I bear

  no likeness to my father. We offer to

  abet your cause.

  FLEANCE What have you in return?

  CAWDOR’S SON Should your grace see fit: to restore

  the Cawdor title to my family.

  ROSS Do not be swayed, my lord. For in the heat

  of battle, he will turn, as did his father,

  and ravage us the worst.

  LENNOX A trick or trap

  it could be, contrived together with Malcolm.

  FLEANCE I, too, champion my father’s name,

  though I wish I’d done it sooner. I shall

  trust you, for it takes equal courage

  to trust as to live, and in these times

  we must learn to live again. A son

  must not be branded for his father’s deceit.

  Know you that we stand outmanned?

  CAWDOR’S SON Too well.

  But if this day should be my last, then it

  will be well spent. The number of our days

  matters not if we have no just cause

  to fill them.

  FLEANCE Then kneel.

  Cawdor’s Son kneels. Fleance knights him.

  FLEANCE And rise, Cawdor.

  For from this moment you shall wear that title,

  in anticipation of your valiant

  action on the field this day.

  CAWDOR God bless

  your grace. I shall not betray.

  FLEANCE Men.

  On this day we fight to set wrongs right,

  to oust a tyrant, and restore the throne of Scotland.

  Do you wish to live your years in Ireland,

  hiding as cowards? Do you wish to live

  as exiles, banished from your homes, in order

  to appease a tyrant’s ambition?

  ALL No! Never!

  FLEANCE Then ride with me this day. Hold high your swords,

  and ever after it shall be recalled

  that on this day few fought against many,

  and with valor challenged tyranny!

  ALL Hail, Fleance! Scotland’s rightful king!

  Exeunt.

  SCENE VII

  Dunsinane. Courtyard.

  Enter Porter. A knocking.

  PORTER Knock, knock! Shall this pounding ever cease? If not

  the wind, then ’tis some lonely soul, thinking he’ll find

  grace behind these walls. Knock, knock! Patience is a virtue

  lost by all but me. It takes proper time to open a door; ’tis

  an art missed by those ignorant of the craft. Knock! By my

  slow tread I make you knock some more, and anticipate the

  opening. ’Tis what a good porter does: for it is the anticipa-

  tion that brings the visitor most joy.

  Porter opens the door.

  MESSENGER An army comes through the shades of

  Birnam Wood!

  I must to the king!

  Exit Messenger.

  PORTER Without me, this door would not have opened, and

  thus this messenger would not have passed. News would

  not spread. Armies would not prepare. Ah, the life of a

  porter! I am the keeper of all there is. An army approaches?

  I’ve seen many an army pass by this gate. One will be the

  victor, the other, vanquished. One day the victor, too, will

  be vanquished. But I shall always remain. For the victor

  will always need a door. And that door will always need a

  porter!

  Exit.

 

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