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

 THE NEED TO ACT

ACT TWO

SCENE ONE

SUB ACT THREE

 

MacBeth looked at the departure of Banquo. He considered that officer his friend, his personal aide, and, above all, his confidante. He valued the words of his friend as well as those of Elleanor.

“Me taking Elleanor over Mary’s place? I doubt so. I loved both ladies, but I have given my vow to Mary. Once, when Mary was ill, she did ask me to consider Elleanor as my other lover. I had said, my heart was for her alone.” MacBeth spoke to himself. “How could I replace Mary? The need to be loved in that manner was with Mary.”

MacBeth recalled meeting both sisters then. It was his first meeting with them at their home. MacBeth’s father was in conference with the sisters’ father on other matters. He was escorted to the garden by the sisters, and it was Elleanor who was doing most of the talking then. MacBeth remembered then that the other, named Mary, was quiet and only spoke when spoken to. She was gentle and demure, though she looked pale.

“Are you in the military, MacBeth?” Elleanor had asked then.

“Yes, I am. I am an officer serving in the infantry. I ….”

“Fought in the battles. Did you enjoy it?” Mary had asked.

“None whatsoever. I did what I was asked. I ….”

“An officer does what he is told.” Elleanor reminded MacBeth.

“It is the need to act.” MacBeth mumbled. “It is the duty of an officer.”

MacBeth then turned to Mary. “Do you dance?”

They danced, and three moons later they danced at their wedding.

Something is meant to be.

“My Lord, Lady Elleanor asked me to tell you that when the bell struck, the time to act was then.” The servant had approached MacBeth at the rampart. The latter was startled then. He then recalled the note that Elleanor gave him at the feast.

“I need to act when I give you the signal. Elleanor.” MacBeth held the note in his right hand. His hold was shaky at best. He looked at the darkening light of the village by the river.

“Who am I?” MacBeth asked of himself. It was then that he heard the voices sounding out to him. It was the lyrics of a song he usually hears.

Who am I that the eyes that see my sin would look on me with love?
And watch me rise again.
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea would call out through the rain?
And calm the storm in me?

(Who Am I lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Mgb Ltd., My Refuge Music, Be Essential Songs)

“Who is there? MacBeth called out.

“I am MacBeth, General by rank in the Infantry, and now Thane of Gladis and Cawdor.” MacBeth looked around him and saw no one. He turned his focus to the village and saw the river that flowed by the castle.

“Is that a dagger I see in front of me with its handle aimed toward my hand?” MacBeth reached out with his right hand to the river below. There was a figure there.

It was an apparition, yet it lacked a head.

“Come forth, my dagger, and let me grasp you.” MacBeth’s right hand grasped it, but he felt nothing there except his palm. “I can’t feel you, and you are there in front of me.”

“Deadly apparition, are you? Is it possible to see you but not touch you? Or are you just a dagger created by the mind?” MacBeth shook his heart. “An illusion of my feverish brain? Or the drinks I drank just now.”

“I still see you, and you look as real as this other dagger that I’m unsheathing now.” MacBeth drew the dagger from his waist belt. “Are you real too? Are you leading me the way I was going already, and I was going to use a weapon just like you?”

MacBeth touched the tip of the dagger in his hand.

“It is sharp, as I ground it myself daily. My skin tells me it is there.” MacBeth blinked his eyes. “Are you deceiving me, my sight? Are you the only sense of mine that isn’t worKing, or are you the only one that’s worKing correctly? I still see you.”

MacBeth looked at the dagger.

“Spots of blood on your blade and handle that were not there before. Did I not clean you daily?” MacBeth was confused. “No, the dagger does not exist. It is the murder I am planning that is affecting my eyes. The world is asleep with dreams attached, or for the sinners, nightmares prevailed. There are the faithful ones who offer sacrifices to their masters and mistresses. I heard of one named the goddess Morrigan.”

Commonly known as the "Phantom Queen," Morrigan was a feared Celtic deity and the goddess of both death and war. As one of Ireland's most powerful goddesses, she appears as both a single being and a triple goddess, forming a trio of sisters who protect both destiny and prophecy. Legend states that she was named as the sister of Badb, Macha, and Neiman.

“They will do anything. Even murder, having been awakened by the howls of the followers. They walk like a ghost, like that ancient god named Donn, to do the deed.”

Donn is the Celtic god of death. His name means ‘The Dark One', and the legend goes that the souls of the dead gather in his home, known as ‘Tech Duinn’. It is said that Donn appears as a phantom horseman on the back of a powerful white horse.

“I will do the same. The firm, hard earth: listen not to my steps or their direction. The stones may echo and reveal where I am, breaking the awful silence like the wind creaked it nightly; the guards will ignore it and suit what I am about to do so well. While I talk here about the plan, Duncan lives. ppeaking cools the heat of my willingness to act.

A bell rings.

“The time is here. Now I go, and the deed is as good as done. The bell invites me to act.” MacBeth called out. “Hail the King. Do not hear the bell, because it is the sound of you being summoned to heaven or hell.”

MacBeth turned to leave the rampart.

Unseen by MacBeth, two figures sat in the darkness at the rampart.

“Recruit 24601 Valjean, hush there. Your singing will not be endeared even in Paris.” The one hushed the other. “I told you the singing of yours would kill even the Lord.”

“I am not French, Javert. And I am happy; why should I not sing? It is not every day we get free food and drinks.” The other replied. “Cosette has nothing bad to say about my singing. She was from Marseillaise”

“You did not speak to the mother, Fantine. She thinks you did miserably to the song. She told me you belonged to the sewers more.”