The Highland Tale; The King Act One Scene Seven Sub Act Three

 I AM INSANE

ACT ONE

SCENE SEVEN

SUB ACT THREE

 

Lady Elleanor sat herself in the seat vacated by MacBeth.

“Are you mad, Elleanor?” The lady asked herself. “He is not your lover, and yet you command like one.”

“Are you mad, Elleanor? Do you realize that you have asked the man to commit murder? Do you know what murder is?” The lady sighed. “It is an unpardonable act, a mortal sin. You will be sent to Hell.”

Lady Elleanor held the bodice and looked at it.

“What do they do to a lady there? The clothing to hide the lady or to reveal the lady. I have seen the men stare not at my face but at my bosom. They held wicked thoughts that I cringed at.”

“Why are we made differently? The men do not have bosoms to be ogled. Their front bottom leaves much for anyone to ogle at. Some, I will say, are... pathetic in their appearance to the man. Do not get me onto those men who shared theirs with another. They are truly disgusting, in my view. Do they not know the creation of man and woman was linked by the” Elleanor placed on a wicked smile.

“Oh Lord, I am vile. The gossip of women knew no bounds.”

“But Lord, I have seen the images of hell. It showed the men but never the women. Would we all be tormented by the demons? Or would the women be done differently?” The lady cringed in her thoughts. In the gossips, she had heard of the atrocities of the women enslaved upon the defeat of the land. The women were deprived of their dignity and honour. Babies were removed from the mothers, and some were left with the seeds of the others. Women will speak of it, but not the ladies. The ladies were not to whisper about it. It was unbecoming of one.

Yet ladies are still women. Why do we stand apart from women?

"Why, God, are we made differently? Why are we to bear the child while the man sows their seeds where they can?” Elleanor had questioned her body. “Why can I not be like the man? I can ride, I can shoot, and I can kill. Or were the killings by the women only for rats and chickens? We could chop the wood from the trunk as good as any man.”

“One is an act of goodness, and the other is cruelty.” The priest once told her when she confessed her anxiety. “The women kill the chicken to feed the family. The man kills the... To avoid cruelty to the family.”

Was it logic? Elleanor had asked herself, but she never answered.

“We have advanced in the world with many wonderous inventions, but there are still definite roles for women and... lady." The mother told her. “You are a lady, and the servants are... women, though they are similar in bulk to you. The lady holds herself in high esteem and, of course, in high rank in society.”

Well, mothers are not the best educators on many subjects. She was not one.

Elleanor had resolved that she would be equal to any man and would not be submissive to any. She had developed her own streak of independence, as she had named it, and created her own values. It was also her downfall that other men do not want to approach her, or the meek ones find her too ‘intimidating’ to be nearby.

“Only Mary knew me well.” Elleanor had a close relationship with Mary, but the poor sister suffered from frailty. She moved in with her sister soon after the wedding to MacBeth, and she never moved out.

“I loved you too, MacBeth, for you are the man I wanted to be with, but Mary has you. I shall not intrude into her life.” Elleanor told herself, but the pain of seeing MacBeth suffer in silence ached her. She felt that MacBeth was suited for more than the military rank, but he lacked what she perceived as motivation.

It was prevalent in the halls when the nobles gathered. The ugly tasks were assigned to MacBeth, while the accolades went to them. Elleanor saw it once too often and was offended. When she was told of the feast, she did her best to please the King. She did stand in for Mary on many occasions.

“For the King!” The toasts were called for by the nobles. None was made for the gallant Thane who made the victory possible. Elleanor was upset, but the King was enjoying himself well. The King also lavished compliments on her for her effort.

“My hostess, if you were any younger, I would have wed you to my son, Malcolm. He deserves a beauty like yourself.” King Duncan had told her during the feast. "Or, if I were younger, I would have wed you myself.”

“I am flattered, my King." Elleanor said, hiding her contempt for the words made to her. She was not good, but her prime years were on the edge.

“Indeed, she is a beauty and deserves to stand by the better man.” One of the nobles said to the King: “I would have wed her, but my lady was not accommodating.”

The pompous idiot was Elleanor's silent thoughts. Who was the noble to say she was not with the better man? MacBeth is the general, and then Thane stood with her, even though she was not his lady. She was his pillar in the castle.

“My King, can a lady be King?” Elleanor teased the King.

“Absolutely not. The lady is to back the King and bore him sons. Such are the roles of the lady.” The King replied and then thought for a while before adding. “Perhaps as Queen, but never the King.”

“My King, you spoke of prophecies? Have you any?” Elleanor had asked King Duncan.

“I have none, but I do believe that once a prophecy is said to that person, it may be their destiny. Have you one, my lady?" King Duncan replied.

“None, my King. I am...”

“A lady. Yes, only men may have it. If it was there, they should pursue it. Nothing will stand in their way. Not even the King.” King Duncan laughed. “None of this now. Be away from your role as the hostess, lady.”

Elleanor excused herself and saw MacBeth leave the hall. She was delayed by the requests for food and drinks from the ravenous guests. She had to get the maids to do those tasks before she took off to look for MacBeth.