Whence is that knocking?
How is’t with me when every noise appalls me?
What hands are here? Hah! They pluck- [cough]
[The actor staggers around, seemingly forgotten his lines; he covers his mouth and coughs, and then he seems to come back to it; once back, he continues]
-out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand?
[He looks at his hands and actually sees blood; confusion strikes him for he knows not if he is hallucinating. His eyes fall on the first row, for there is sufficient light that is cast upon their faces for him to look at the stunned and bewildered looks. He glances at the woman in red sitting right in the middle, and he locks eyes as if to say, ‘don’t worry, it’s okay!’]
No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.
[Delivering the final lines he falls off the front of the stage. The audience is shocked, not knowing if this is intentional or not, some new, weird, interpretation of Macbeth. No; he seems unmoving, unconscious.]
[In some corner of the theatre, three women watched with keen interest.]
All three [whispering together]:
Fair is foul, and foul is fair
[In a blink, they vanished into thin air as if they never were there.]
[Upon the heath these three women reappeared.]
Sisters, it stands.
Aye, sister. He must pay for,
Invoking the curse that our forebears,
Had placed upon this enactment,
Those many centuries ago.
What is done cannot be undone.
The Scottish Play shall forever be cursed,
Unless our mistress is mollified.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair;
Hover through the fog and filthy air.