The Scottish Play Murder Read Free

day before it had been the Scottish play.”
    “And you think we were cursed by Shakespeare?”
    “’Twas the witches. The witches cursed us.”
    “You mean the
‘Double, double . . .’
”
    “Stop!” Horatio pressed his palms to his ears and shut his eyes tightly. “Do not say it!” He crossed himself again, then quickly returned his right palm to his ear. He crouched, as if awaiting a blow.
    Louis said mildly, “I’d like us to do
Macbeth
.” Horatio flinched, but Louis ignored him. “I’ve always enjoyed that play, all dark and mysterious-like. I prefer the spooky ones. Witches and ghosts and all that there suchlike.”
    “A young man such as yourself would know no better than to flirt with the powers of darkness. So exciting for yourself, but not so merry for those of us who know the ways of the world and how badly they can go awry. ’Tis bad luck, I say. You can have your mystery, Louis, and keep it.”
    Matthew said, “Not so mysterious, I think. Ambitious woman eggs on her husband to do murder, they both go mad with guilt, and everyone ends up dead.”
    “Not everyone.”
    “Everyone who deserves it, and then some. A crowd-pleaser, that one.”
    Suzanne allowed as she did rather like
Macbeth
, and thought it would be a good addition to the repertoire. Indeed, one might think it a necessary addition, being a crowd-pleaser. “I think we should do it.”
    Horatio shook his head, wide-eyed and speechless with terror, his palms still pressed to his ears.
    “Seriously, Horatio. How can we not do such a popular play?”
    “Easily enough. We simply don’t cast it, then carry on with our day. We’ve
Romeo and Juliet
to keep us occupied.”
    “But we must. What would I tell Daniel, should he ask when we’ll perform it?” Daniel Stockton, Earl of Throckmorton, was the father of her grown son, and the theatre’s patron.
    “I daresay I care not a fig what thou sayst to his grace, for I care not to bring that play into my theatre.”
    Plainly Horatio was upset, for now he was talking in quasi-Puritan thee-thou, an affectation that had begun as amusement and eventually became unconscious habit. A devout Catholic, he was no more Puritan than the pope, and therefore did it poorly so that he seemed to speak in a messy mish-mosh of Elizabethan and present-day English. But the more he protested and the more archaic his language doing so became, the more Suzanne wanted The New Globe Players to put on a production of that play. She replied, “
Whose
theatre?”
    Horatio sighed, and his face clouded over in a frown. “In truth, ’tis Shakespeare’s theatre. In technicality, ’tis owned by his grace the earl.”
    “But whose theatre is it for all intents and purposes?”
    He sighed, and let a long pause wind out. Then he allowed, “’Tis thine.”
    “Indeed, ’tis. So shall we have a production of the Scottish play, then?”
    Horatio glowered for another very long moment, and Suzanne waited. He would acquiesce, but would first make it clear he did it under protest. Finally he said, “Very well.”
    Diarmid Ramsay, who had been nearly forgotten in the clash of wills, said in a strong, booming voice that nearly rivaled Horatio’s, “Excellent! Where shall I stand for my recital?”
    “You’ve a speech prepared, I expect.” Horatio crossed his arms over his chest, dragging his heels every inch in protest.
    “I’m a Scot, my friend, and know the play well. Were I a mind to, I could recite the entire role in Gaelic, and much of it in French as well.”
    Horatio blanched, as if he were afraid Ramsay might attempt it right there. “The king’s English, if you please. I hear the play at all under duress; I’ll not listen to it in jibber-jabber, thank you.”
    Ramsay’s smile never faltered. “As you wish. And so, where shall I stand?”
    Horatio waved to the stage boards as he stepped down the side steps. “Up here, if you please. Let us see how well you rattle the rafters with your voice.”
    The