Light Thickens

‘On Macbeth’s “Where?” Banquo turns. Recognition. Climax. He’s a proper job. Bloody hair, throat cut, chest stabbed, blood all over it. On “Feed and regard him not” the thanes obey the Lady but rather self-consciously. They eat and mumble. Keep it quiet. Macbeth shrinks back and to the right. She follows.

‘On Macbeth’s “What care I,” Banquo lets his head go back and then fall forward. He rises and exits left. This is going to take a lot of work. You thanes, all of you, can not see him. Repeat: you can not see him. He almost touches you but for you he is not there. You all watch Macbeth. Have you all got that? Stop me if I’m going too fast.’

‘Just a moment,’ said Banquo.

Here we go, thought Peregrine. ‘Yes, Bruce?’ he said.

‘How much room will there be under this thick-table affair?’

‘Plenty, I hope.’

‘And how do I see?’

Peregrine stopped himself saying ‘With your eyes.’ ‘The mask,’ he explained, ‘is being very carefully designed. It is attached to the headpiece. The eye-holes are big. Your own eyes will be painted out. Gaston has done an excellent drawing for us. They will take a mould of your face.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘A bloodied cloak will be firmly fixed to the neck and ripped up in several places.’

‘I’ll want to see all these things, Perry. I’ll want to rehearse in them.’

‘So you shall. Till the cows come home.’

‘Thank you very much,’ said the beautiful voice silkily.

‘Any more questions? No? Well, let’s try it.’

They tried it slowly and then faster. Many times.

‘I think it’ll work,’ Peregrine said at last to Nina who was sitting behind him.

‘Oh yes, Perry. Yes. Yes.’

‘We’ll move on to the next “appearance”. Dougal, you have this distraught, confused, self-betraying speech. You pull yourself together and propose a health. You stand in front of the stool, masking it, holding out the cup in your left hand. Ross fills it. The understudy is in position. Under the table. Is he here? Yes, Toby. You’ve moved up to the end. You can see when Macbeth’s arm and hand, holding the goblet, are in place and you slip up on the stool. Macbeth proposes the toast. He moves away, facing front. He does what we all hope he will not do: he names Banquo. The thanes drink. He turns to go upstage and there is the Ghost. On “unreal mockery, hence” the Ghost rises. He moves to the stairs, passing between Menteith and Gaston and past the soldiers on guard, up into the murder chamber. Everyone watches Macbeth who raves on. Now, inch by inch, we’ll walk it.’

They did so, marking what they did in their scripts, gradually working through the whole scene, taking notes, walking the moves, fitting the pieces together. Peregrine said: ‘If ever there was a scene that could be ruined by a bit-part actor, this is it. It’s all very well to say you must completely ignore the Ghost, that for you it’s not there; but it calls for a damn good actor to achieve it. We’ve got to make the audience accept the reality of the Ghost and be frightened by it. The most intelligent of you all, Lennox, has the line: “Good night, and better health attend His Majesty.” When next we see Lennox he’s speaking of his suspicions to Ross. The actor will, ever so slightly, not a fraction too much, make us aware of this. A hair’s-breadth pause after he says good night, perhaps. You’ve got your moves. Take them once more to make sure and go away and think through the whole scene, step by step, and then decide absolutely what you are feeling and doing at every moment.’

When they had gone Peregrine took Macbeth’s scene with the murderers. Then the actual murder of Banquo.

‘Listen!’ Peregrine said. ‘Just listen to the gift this golden hand offers you. It’s got everything. The last glint of sunset, the near approach of disaster.

“The West yet glimmers with some streaks of day.

Now spurs the lated traveller apace

To gain the timely inn.”

‘And now we hear the thud of horses’ hooves. Louder and louder. They stop. A pause. Then the horses go away. Enter Banquo with a lanthorn. I do want a profoundly deep voice for this speech. I’m sorry,’ he said to the First Murderer. ‘I’m going to give it to Gaston. It’s a matter of voice, dear boy, not of talent. Believe me, it’s a matter of voice.’

‘Yes. All right,’ said the stricken murderer.

They read the scene.

‘That’s exactly what I want. You will see that Seyton is present in both these scenes and indeed is never far from Macbeth’s business from this time on. We are very lucky to have Mr Sears to take the part. He is the sword-bearer. He looms over the play and so does his tremendous weapon.’

‘It is,’ Gaston boomingly explained, ‘the symbol of coming death. Its shadow grows more menacing as the play draws inexorably towards its close. I am reminded – ‘

‘Exactly,’ Peregrine interrupted. ‘The play grows darker. Always darker. The relief is in the English scene. And now – ‘ He hurried on, while Gaston also continued in his pronouncements of doom. For a short time they spoke together and then Gaston, having attained his indistinguishable climax, stopped as suddenly as a turned-off tap, said ‘Good morning’ and left the theatre.

Peregrine opened his arms and let them flop. ‘One puts up with the unbelievable,’ he said. ‘He’s an actor. He’s a paid-up member of Equity. He spoke that little speech in a way that sent quivers up and down my spine and he’s got Sir Dougal Macdougal and Simon Morten banging away at each other with a zeal that makes you sweat. I suppose I’m meant to put up with other bits of eccentricity as they occur.’

‘Is he certifiable?’ asked Maggie.

‘Probably.’

‘I wouldn’t put up with it,’ said Bruce Barrabell. ‘Get him back.’

‘What do I say when he comes? He’s perfect for the part. Perfect.’

Nina said: ‘Just a quiet word in private? Ask him not to?’

‘Not to what?’

‘Go on talking while you are talking?’ she said doubtfully.

‘He hasn’t done it since the first day until now. I’ll leave it for this time.’

‘Of course, if one’s afraid of him…’ sneered Barrabell, and was heard.

‘I am afraid. I’m afraid he’ll walk out and I don’t mind admitting it. He’s irreplaceable,’ said Peregrine.

‘I agree with you, dear boy,’ said Sir Dougal.

‘So do I,’ said Maggie. ‘He’s too valuable.’

‘So be it,’ said Peregrine. ‘Now, William, let’s see how you shape up. Come on, Nina. And Lennox. And the murderers.’

They shaped up well. William was quick and unobjectionable. The young Macduff was cheeky and he showed spirit and breeding. His mama returned, a quietly dressed woman from whom he had inherited his vowels. They completed the financial arrangements and left. Nina, delighted with him, also left. Peregrine said to Dougal and Maggie: ‘And now, my dears, the rest of the day is ours. Let’s consolidate.’