Lady Macbeth and the witches. Lady Macbeth with embroidery in her lap. Absorbed in
Thought, her hand holds a needle suspended in the air. With their backs to the swings and
slide, but looking at them, lining up, taking each other by their waists, the witches move
and singing.
Skip to the right
Skip to the left
Back, back
It’s time to play
It’s time to play!
Today we fancy playing. May we, milady? Milady!
You may.
(The witches run to the swings and slide, nervously giggling with excitement)
Come, join us, milady!
Your hand is too thoughtful! (They laugh) Don’t let Macbeth know!
Oh, such a pleasure to climb, to swing and to slide. (They surround Lady Macbeth)
Come, join us, milady. Those tragic thoughts will fly away.
Puerile thoughts, Macbeth said. And I don’t think!
(Gently insisting, almost tenderly, the three witches lift her to the slide)
No …! No ... (At the top they push her down, she falls gently)
Wake up, milady! Play with us!
(She awakes and looks at them angrily) Enough!
You were embroidering, but you weren’t embroidering with the needle in the air. It was
to clear your mind, milady.
Clear my mind? Of what?
Of some black clouds. Looming, catastrophic ones.
But they have passed now! Let’s change the subject. There’s a feast every night!
What grandeur! Who is the guest of honour tonight?
Banquo.
Banquo! Whose sons will be kings!
(with a furious glance. To Lady Macbeth) That’s not important.
The feast ... It was yesternight. Yesternight, wasn’t it? Banquo was to have been our main guest. He was always loyal to King Duncan, who is dead, you have heard haven’t you?
We have been grief-struck for Duncan.
Overjoyed for Macbeth!
Banquo spoke with Macbeth, now his king, thane of Cawdor and Glamis. And what could one read in Banquo’s face? Not grief nor joy: but distrust. If you are king, Macbeth,
I fear you’ve played it very dirty, it was written on his face. He showed obedience and
respect, and yet was accusing my Macbeth! He wanted to leave and spread his slander
amongst the nobles. What’s to be done? I asked Macbeth, and he was waiting for my
question.
He’s put it in your mouth.
Yes! And as soon as he put it there, I made it mine. What’s to be done?, With Banquo, with his suspicions. “Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, till thou applaud the deed.”
Oh, how his loving heart cares for you!
Hail, Macbeth, king that shalt be!
Hail, Banquo, whose sons shalt be kings!
And how my heart, no less loving, cares for Macbeth! I’ve seen him unsettled, sullen. He is king, yet he doesn’t enjoy what he has longed for. (Dull thuds) Bells? Who’s tolling bells at this hour?
They are not bells. Perhaps it’s the doorknocker.
(Peering outside. She turns) Milady, a guest. Lacking a sense of etiquette, he invites
himself discourteously. An invitation, a summons, a letter of recommendation? He
carries none of these. With no apology and instead of using the door, he floats through the air.
Banquo’s ghost appears. It’s a tall figure, with a supernatural volume. His speech is
sometimes interrupted by a guttural sound, and he sometimes ends his phrases gasping as if at the point of death.
The above sample taken from the translation Señora Macbeth by Jeremy Roe, Sergio Amigo is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
Entry written by Gwendolen Mackeith. Last updated on 5 October 2010.