That evening, Macbeth and his wife held a feast for King Duncan and his thanes and servants. The great hall echoed with their loud talk and laughter. At last their bowls and cups were empty, their stomachs full, and it was time for bed.
Banquo and his young son Fleance crossed the castle’s gloomy courtyard. They were heading for their room. The night was dark and moonless. The only light came from a few flickering torches.
‘Take my sword, Fleance,’ said Banquo, handing it to him. ‘I’m tired, but I don’t really want to go to sleep. I fear I’ll have bad dreams as soon as I lay down my head. What time is it, anyway?’
‘I’m not sure, Father,’ said Fleance. ‘But it must be past midnight.’
Suddenly they heard footsteps. A tall, dark figure appeared from the shadows behind them. Banquo was startled, then saw it was Macbeth.
‘Still up, my lord?’ said Banquo, and smiled. ‘The king is long since in bed. He thinks you and Lady Macbeth are wonderful hosts.’
‘If only we’d had more time to prepare for him!’ said Macbeth.
‘Don’t worry, everything was fine,’ said Banquo. He glanced over his shoulder, and moved in closer to his friend. ‘Listen, I can’t stop thinking about the Weird Sisters,’ he whispered. He let his eyes rest briefly on his son, then looked at Macbeth. ‘They spoke some truth to you.’
‘I haven’t thought about them at all,’ Macbeth replied. ‘Although I’d be happy to talk about that strange business some time. And remember, you might do very well if we stay friends…’
‘So long as that doesn’t clash with my other loyalties,’ said Banquo, his eyes locked onto Macbeth’s. ‘Such as to the king.’
‘Of course…’ said Macbeth. ‘Now I won’t keep you any longer. Goodnight to you both.’
Banquo and Fleance went on their way. Macbeth stayed. He thought about what Banquo had said, trying to work out his true meaning. But he soon gave up. He had a job to do. He shook his head, gritted his teeth, and made for the stairs leading to the king’s chamber. He put his foot on the first step, then stopped, his eyes wide with shock. A spooky, glowing knife was floating in the air in front of him.
‘I don’t believe it…’ murmured Macbeth. ‘Is this a dagger I see before me?’ He reached out to touch the handle, but his hand passed through it. Macbeth jumped back as if he had been burned. Was the dagger real, or had it come from his imagination? It was pointing up the stairs, telling him where to go…
Now blood appeared on the knife, too, great blobs of it, and Macbeth realised it wasn’t real. He swallowed hard, and felt the night with all its dark magic gathered around him.
A bell rang somewhere, and the dagger vanished. Macbeth took a deep breath… then he started moving up the stairs, slowly and silently…
Lady Macbeth waited in their bedroom. She heard the bell ringing, too. A night bird screeched, and she almost jumped out of her skin.
‘Just an owl out hunting…’ she whispered, thinking that Death truly stalked the dark land tonight. She had got the grooms drunk, and made sure their daggers were waiting for her husband. She had thought about killing the king herself. But in his sleep he had looked just like her father, and she couldn’t do it…
Suddenly Macbeth burst in, the bloodstained daggers in his hands. ‘It’s done,’ he whispered, looking down. He dropped the daggers with a clatter.
‘Get a grip on yourself,’ said Lady Macbeth, shaking him. ‘Listen, if we think too much about what we’re doing, we’ll drive ourselves mad!’
‘I thought I heard someone calling out sleep no more,’ said Macbeth, ignoring her. ‘Macbeth has murdered sleep, the peace that heals us all.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ snapped Lady Macbeth. ‘Nobody said anything. You were imagining it. Here’s water to wash your hands. But why did you bring the daggers here? You were supposed to wipe blood on the grooms and leave them there. Quickly, go back and do it.’
‘I can’t!’ groaned Macbeth.
‘I will, then,’ said Lady Macbeth, and hurried out.
‘I’ll never wash my hands clean of this blood,’ whispered Macbeth. ‘Not even if I use an ocean of water. They’d turn the whole sea red…’
Lady Macbeth soon returned. Her hands were now as bloodstained as her husband’s. She stood beside Macbeth to wash them. ‘You see, it’s easy!’ she said. ‘A little water clears us of what we’ve done. But wait… what’s that?’ There was a distant knocking. Someone was banging on the castle gate.
KNOCK! KNOCK! came the sound… KNOCK! KNOCK!
‘I wish they could wake Duncan with that knocking…’ said Macbeth.
Down in the courtyard, the old gatekeeper shuffled slowly towards the gate. The knocking was growing more regular. KNOCK! KNOCK! A faint, silvery light shone round the edges of the eastern clouds, like the pale ghost of the future. Dawn was approaching.
‘All right, all right, I’m on my way,’ grumbled the old gatekeeper. ‘I’ve been as busy as the porter at the gates of hell tonight, what with all these comings and goings. Although I bet I’d be a lot warmer in hell than I am in this freezing castle.’ KNOCK! KNOCK! ‘All right, I hear you!’
He opened the gate, and in rode Lennox and Macduff, the Thane of Fife. The men jumped down and marched over to the gatekeeper.
‘What took you so long, old man?’ said Macduff. ‘Were you still in bed? You must have gone to sleep late if you were.’
‘Ah, we did,’ said the gatekeeper. ‘We feasted till the small hours.’
‘Is your master up?’ said Macduff. Then he saw Macbeth coming through a door. ‘Ah, there he is! Our knocking must have woken him.’
‘Good morning, Macbeth!’ said Lennox. ‘Is the king awake?’
‘Not yet,’ said Macbeth, making sure his face gave nothing away.
‘He told me to come for him early, and I was very nearly late,’ said Macduff. He raised his eyebrows at the old gatekeeper, who shrugged.
‘Well, better late than never,’ said Macbeth. ‘I’ll take you to him.’
‘No, no, you mustn’t put yourself out, although I know you don’t mind,’ said Macduff, smiling. ‘Just point me in the right direction.’
‘As you wish,’ said Macbeth, relieved. ‘The door’s over there.’
Macbeth watched Macduff cross the courtyard and run up the stairs. He had climbed them himself a few short hours ago, although now it seemed like a lifetime… He remembered how he had left the king, and suddenly felt sick.
‘It’s been a wild night, hasn’t it?’ said Lennox. ‘The wind was so strong I thought it was going to rip off the roof. There’s been talk of the earth shaking, too, and people hearing strange sounds. Someone said they were like the screams of someone dying.’
‘Yes,’ murmured Macbeth, staring at him. ‘It was a rough night.’
Just then they heard footsteps stumbling down the staircase, and they both looked round.
Macduff ran towards them. ‘Oh horror, horror, horror…’ he groaned. ‘I can barely speak of it!’
‘Why, what’s the matter?’ said Macbeth, although he knew full well.
‘The king… has been murdered!’ wailed Macduff.
Lennox gasped, and Macbeth did his best to look shocked, too. ‘If you don’t believe me, go and see for yourselves,’ Macduff went on.
Lennox ran towards the stairs, and Macbeth followed.
‘Wake up, everyone!’ yelled Macduff. ‘Ring the alarm bell!’ The old gatekeeper went off to do just that, and the bell’s clanging soon rang out. ‘Banquo and Donalbain and Malcolm, wake up!’
Soon the castle courtyard began to fill with confused, frightened people in their nightclothes.
Lady Macbeth was one of the first to appear. ‘What on earth is going on?’ she said.
Banquo and the others were on her heels, and gathered round Macduff.
‘I’m… I’m afraid to tell you, my lady,’ he said. ‘It is too terrible for your delicate ears. Oh, Banquo, the good king has been murdered!’
‘What!’ Banquo cried out, appalled. There were screams from others in the courtyard. ‘I beg you, Macduff…’ he moaned. ‘Say it isn’t so.’
Just then, Macbeth and Lennox returned. They were pale and trembling. Macbeth’s face was a mask of horror, and he was only half pretending. ‘I wish I had never lived to see this moment,’ he said.
Lady Macbeth was watching him, and Banquo was watching them both.
‘My life till now was blessed,’ Macbeth went on. ‘But the best is gone with the king, and nothing good is left, nothing.’
Two young men suddenly pushed through the crowd — Malcolm and Donalbain, the king’s sons. ‘What is happening here?’ said Malcolm.
‘The head, the source, the fountain of your family’s blood has been cut off!’ said Macbeth. He reached out to grasp the young men’s shoulders, and tears rolled down his cheeks.
Malcolm and Donalbain looked at each other, confused. They had no idea what he was talking about.
‘He means that your father has been murdered,’ Macduff said gently.
‘But… who would do such a dreadful thing?’ muttered Malcolm.
‘We’re pretty sure it was your father’s grooms,’ said Lennox, shaking his head. ‘They were covered in his blood, and so were their daggers.’
‘It’s true,’ said Macbeth. ‘But still, I wish I hadn’t killed them.’
‘Why did you, then?’ yelled Macduff, angrily. ‘Now we may never know if they acted alone, or if someone put them up to it!’
‘Who could stay calm at a time like this?’ Macbeth shouted. ‘I saw the king lying there. And I saw his evil, bloodstained murderers, too. I couldn’t stop myself.’
Macduff seemed unsatisfied by this answer. He opened his mouth to yell something else. But Lady Macbeth suddenly moaned as if she were about to faint, and he sprang forward to help her instead.
Macbeth stayed where he was. He knew his wife was playing a clever trick. Everyone was looking at her now, and not at him…
‘Take care of the lady!’ Banquo called out to her servants. Several came forward and took her back inside the castle. ‘We should get dressed, then meet to talk about this bloody piece of work,’ said Banquo. His strong voice echoed round the courtyard. ‘We’re all shaken by what’s happened, especially as we don’t know what lies behind it. But if there is more evil to come, I swear I’ll fight it.’
‘Me, too!’ said Macduff, and everyone else roared in agreement.
Only Macbeth stayed silent — until he saw Banquo staring at him. ‘Very well,’ said Macbeth, raising his own voice above the noise. ‘Let’s put on our armour like men, and meet again in the hall!’
The courtyard quickly emptied. Everyone hurried off in different directions. But Malcolm held his brother back, and the two of them stood in a corner to talk. The sun had risen, although thick clouds hung low over Macbeth’s castle and made the daylight seem grey and sickly.
‘We’re not safe here,’ whispered Malcolm. ‘We can’t trust them.’
‘You’re right,’ Donalbain murmured. ‘We might be next on the list. We’d better split up and leave the country. I’ll go to Ireland.’
‘I’ll make for England,’ said Malcolm. ‘And let’s not wait around. We’ll need the swiftness of our horses to keep us safe and sound.’
So the brothers hugged one last time, and shook each other by the hand. Then they rode away, fleeing through Scotland’s darkening land…