Darkness.

A woman steps out into the light and looks at the audience. The stage is bare.

Carlin

Knock knock knock.

Who’s there?

She looks again out across the stalls, more intent this time.

Misery seekers – here they come. Eyes all nasty and randy for gore. You recognise yourself? Mouths open, tongues out. You’re all the same. Death is what you want – blood, despair, the fall of man? It’ll be as you last saw it – but no matter, things fare better when they are played and played again. Never an end to your asking for more.

But – what more do we have for your ghouls? Bare boards. Nothing much. If you’re looking for pyrotechnics, you’ll be disappointed – no thunder to speak of, no heath – no lightning, no rain – what will you do?

No matter you say – blood cold and unmoving – just give us the play!

The play, the play, of course we’re here to do the play.

She sniffs, looks around.

Still –

Bit of the highlands painted on a cloth behind might have been nice. Dab of heather, wee bit of gorse –

We were lucky in one place, we got a mat – cushions for the knees as we writhed. In another we were strung from the rafters – fire in our hair.

Not many rafters in this place – more like rain from the roof –

She looks up to the roof, puts her hand out.

You can tell the health of a theatre by what fills the stage.

She looks about.

I have a chair.

Beat.

Knock knock knock.

Anyone there?

Oh and there’s an assistant – or the assistant to the assistant – the one newest to the game – and at the back, script in hand and even now waving me to get off, this is not the way it should begin, because this story will be told the way it has always been told. What else use is it otherwise? The hags on the heath. The woman who went mad. The man who became a tyrant. Aye sir. Of course – words and syllables and words and words and hours dreadful, things strange and the next night the same again …

She looks at the audience.

She bends down, knocks on the floor.

Knock knock knock.

Alright, blood-sucking vermin. You’ll get what you paid for!

No merry ending for you.

No dance, no soft turn.

Fog. Mist. Damp like nowhere but in Scotland. A heath. Winter in May. Snow in June. And a man. Wounded, dripping with blood –

The light is waiting for the soldier, he walks into it.

Doubtful.

Doubtful.

Doubtful it stood.

The soldier spits.

And the man who says these words – chest caved in, arrow-head in his thigh, face lacerated – but still he spits out what he must –

Doubtful.

Doubtful.

The man tries to speak.

Wipes his face of blood.

He takes a breath –

Bloody Soldier

Doubtful.

Doubtful it stood –

The woman breathes out like she has been holding her breath.

Carlin

As two spent swimmers, that do cling together and choke their art. The merciless Macdonald from the Western Isles –

The soldier looks at the woman.

Bloody Soldier

These are my words.

Carlin

Then say them – sirrah.

The soldier looks at the audience. Stops.

Tries to get his head around the pain. Spits again.

Bloody Soldier

Doubtful it stood, as two spent swimmers that do cling together and choke their art. But all’s too weak for brave Macbeth – well he deserves that name, with his brandished steel which smoked.

The woman gets a picnic chair and sits on it.

He looks at her.

Carlin

Go on, go on –

He continues.

Bloody Soldier

With bloody execution carved out his passage – till he faced the slave – and unseamed him from the nave to the chops and fixed his head –

Carlin

It’s good, it’s good, keep going –

The soldier pauses for a second.

Don’t let me put you off.

I’m only a hag, an old woman, vermin to you.

Bloody Soldier

It’s a message for the king.

Carlin

Oh the king, well, when we see him.

Here on the heath wandering around.

She knocks on the floor.

Two other women come on to the stage and look at the soldier.

Missy is in her middle years, Mae not much more than a girl.

Bloody Soldier

No sooner had we won than a Norwegian lord saw an advantage and began a fresh assault, and then Banquo and Macbeth did –

Mae

Macbeth?

Bloody Soldier

Redouble their blows on the foe like they meant to bathe themselves in blood –

Carlin

So they won?

Bloody Soldier

If you attend to the message –

Carlin

The message is a little hard on the ear.

Missy

Did they win?

Bloody Soldier

We won, aye.

We won. And Cawdor the traitor has been captured and before the day is gone –

Carlin

Did you win?

Bloody Soldier

Me?

Mae

Aye, did you win?

Bloody Soldier

Of course I won, Scotland has my loyalty – so.

Carlin

Aye but did you really?

Bloody Soldier

I …

He looks at his arms and face.

The blood right down his side.

Mae puts up a chair for him.

I can’t feel my feet.

Carlin

Ah.

Bloody Soldier

And my arms are tingling.

Carlin

Give him some tea, Missy.

Bloody Soldier

What happened to Cawdor?

Carlin

You tell me.

He retches.

He looks at all of them.

Bloody Soldier

Oh fuck –

Two of the weird sisters grab him.

He shouts in pain.

They move him, he shouts again.

I know who you are –

Missy

He knows who we are!

Carlin

Say nothing more –

Bloody Soldier

You shouldn’t be here – you were told to leave the land.

Carlin

And go where?

They drop him.

He starts to crawl away.

Oh your legs move now –

You can scuttle like a beetle when you want to. Put a foot on his back, Missy.

Missy puts a foot on his back.

Missy

Fair is foul and foul is fair. Crawl through the fog and filthy air –

Mae giggles.

Bloody Soldier

I have a message to deliver, I have to get to the king –

Carlin

Then message the king –

He tries to crawl away, can’t.

But first – a drum a drum, Macbeth doth come.

Carlin crouches down, she holds his head.

He cries out in pain.

Say it –

Hail Macbeth, Thane of Glamis –

Bloody Soldier

Hail Macbeth, Thane of Glamis –

Missy

Hail Macbeth, Thane of Cawdor –

Bloody Soldier

Hail Macbeth, Thane of Cawdor –

Mae

Hail Macbeth, who will be king hereafter.

She drops him down, he falls.