* * * * *
I knew it was a huge, bloody battle and I was just pleased to see the future king alive. I had had no idea if Macbeth was alive and well. I was so worried about him. Not only was I pleased for that reason but also because the start of our lives is just beginning. The benefits and rewards of the throne are soon in the grasp of my hand.
Macbeth said that Duncan was to leave the next day. At this moment it occurred to me that this was the time to strike, it must be then or never. We must not give the plot away, so we must look friendly, speak charmingly and generally be two-faced. This is vital to the method. If there is any suspicion of this then we could be on the receiving end of the fatality. If we treat Duncan as best we can then we are less likely to be suspected of being the murderers. He must be provided for and his every requirement must be tended to. Tonight is the start of a new beginning!
* * * * *
Duncan’s arrival earlier was extremely difficult. To hide such an evil and wicked thing is very tricky. It is constantly on my mind; will it go smoothly? Have we missed any essential thing out? What if it doesn’t go according to plan? I am excited and tense but I know I have to appear hospitable. The conversation between Duncan and myself went smoothly and I kept my cool. I fear Macbeth may reveal a piece of the plan in all the excitement; he must pull through for both of our sakes. I have seemingly made Duncan feel that we are thankful for his stay. Duncan must think everything is prepared for him, so far I think he is pleased with the welcoming he has received. To stop thinking of the murder later on will be even harder than it has been so far. I don’t know how I will cope. Now I must go for I fear the others are getting suspicious of my long disappearance.
* * * * *
Later on when I entered the room I found Macbeth looking deep in thought. I knew that something was wrong. When he told me he had changed his mind and that we should proceed no further in this business, I was horrified. The words just spilled out of my mouth as if it wasn’t me talking. Maybe my prayers to the spirits to make me cruel and strong, had worked. I accused him of being a coward, that the hope wherein he had dressed himself had been drunk and was now suffering a hangover. Unbelievably, I could even hear myself saying that had I made a promise to him to do so, I would have killed our own baby.
That really shocked him back to reality and we were able to make plans for Duncan’s murder. We decided to get Duncan’s guards drunk enough to be able to get to him easily, and then to stab him to death. We could then smear the guards with blood so it may seem their guilt. It is almost too simple to be true!
* * * * *
That night as I waited for Macbeth to do the terrible deed, every minute seemed like an eternity. An owl shrieked and I nearly jumped out of my skin. What if the guards woke? Macbeth would certainly be executed for treason just as the last Thane of Cawdor was. It’s a good job I had the sense to put laudanum in their drinks. When I went to lay out the guards’ daggers ready, I almost killed Duncan myself, I was so hyped up. Memories of my father stopped me.
When Macbeth finally returned, he looked terrible. He was ranting and raving and I couldn’t get any sense out of him. He kept going on about how the guards were shouting in their sleep, ‘murder’ and ‘Macbeth shall sleep no more’. It had not been an easy thing for him to do. This surprised me as he has killed so many people in battle. I had to be really firm with him and got him to go and wash the blood from his hands, to make him do something to snap him out of hysteria. That’s when I realised that he still had the daggers in his hands – the evidence! He was in no state to take them back so I did it myself.
When I actually did the job, I was ashamed that I had been so scared. Still, I knew that once I had washed my hands, all evidence would be destroyed and that would be the end of the matter.
* * * * *
A banquet had been prepared for all our friends. Everything was fine until, suddenly, out of the blue, Macbeth’s expression changed. He started shouting at an empty space at the table and looking terrified. I tried to comfort him and persuade him it was a hallucination, just like the imagined dagger he had seen before he murdered Duncan. Then he started talking to the mirage! It was so embarrassing in front of our guests, and yet worrying because I wondered what was happening to my husband. I had to think, quickly, of an excuse on his behalf – I explained that he was prone to having fits, and that he would soon be okay again.