The bad luck of Shakespeare's Macbeth

Shakespeare's play Macbeth is considered cursed, so actors will not say the title in the theatre before a performance. Instead, you will hear them refer to it simply as "The Scottish play".

It’s a common superstition, so never mention Macbeth by name, never say it out loud, while inside a theater when the play is not being held.

When Shakespeare wrote Macbeth, around 1606, he did a lot of research on witches, spells and potions, intending to make the Weird sisters more believable. Their chants and ingredients (eye of newt, and toe of frog) are supposedly real. According to legend, a local coven of witches were offended, and in anger, retaliated by cursing the play.

Truly cursed or not, this particular play seems to have had bad luck from the start, actors died, and stage props were replaced with real weapons. Over the years this play has been plagued with actors falling off stages, mysterious deaths, falling stage weights and strange accidents.

BREAKING THE CURSE

So how can you avoid catastrophe if you utter the play that shall not be named? Exit the theatre, spin around three times, spit, curse and then knock on the theatre door to be allowed back in…(I am assuming that, like Vampires, who cannot on their own enter a house without an invitation, since the house's threshold itself is on a mythological and spiritual level. This threshold being considered as a kind of magical and protective barrier that gives security to the home). So too, the person who speaks the name MACBETH, must be let back in and not re-enter on one's own, lest the curse also re-enters the theatre. Such fascinating concepts to life, don't you think?

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I offer the above narrative as a prelude to my confession to what I can now openly explain, about the death of my beloved partner Ralson forty years ago.

We had been rehearsing for the play 'THE CURSE OF THE SCOTTISH PLAY' for over a month now, everything had been going quite well. We were all excited about the opening in another month or so.

"DOUBLE, DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE;

FIRE BURN, AND CAULDRON BUBBLE…". Verne vociferated loudly, as the lights dimmed and the witches cackled.

You were nowhere in sight, dear Ralston, even though your scene as leading man was coming up in ten minutes or so. Feeling a tad concerned for your untimely absence from your actor's screen by the theatre's outer door, I hastened to find you and alert you to the timing. Imagine my great shame, consternation and humiliation to find you entwined in the arms of Emelia, the lovely young actress who played alongside me, as my stand-in for Lady Macbeth.

I stood still as a statue outside the door where you could not see me, as if I had somehow been turned to stone. I heard your plot, as together you planned to murder me for my money which I had just inherited, and to add insult to injury, she wanted my part in the play as leading lady.

I heard you laugh, it sounded like a malevolent growl erupting from the bowels of hell, and I knew what I had to do. I hurried back onto the side of the stage, ere you should see my clouded face, for you had come to know my every facial expression, even the tiniest frown used to make you comfort, cherish and soothe my every woe.

The play ran for two months, during which time you kept up your shenanigans, thinking that I did not know what was going on. I barely saw you anymore, you pled tiredness and extra rehearsals which took up most of your time. Soon our turn with this play came to an end we started preparing for a new production. I must tell you that I feared for my life. I looked constantly over my shoulder fearing the worst. Never knowing when you planned to end my life. I had no proof, so what was I to do. I had to act fast.

The third night into practice and read-through for the new play, I put my plans into action. The entire cast was present for the reading.

"Didn't you just love the wonderful reviews of our MACBETH play". I said rather loudly to Jacintha, who waited her turn to read for the play .

The entire cast and invited spectators gasped audibly in unison.

"OH DEAR". I gasped, covering my mouth is exaggerated shock and startled bewilderment.

"I'm going out back, let Emelia do my part until I return". I assured them.

I knew no one would move or follow me outside. The famous curse of Macbeth would assure me of that completely. I knew that they all followed me with their eyes as I exited to the rear of the building. They would wait a few minutes before continuing on with the play. I had made sure to unlatch the window on the side of the building earlier in the day.

I exited the theatre, spun around three times, did the spit and curse, but I did not knock on the theatre door to be allowed back in right away, that was ok. The longer I stayed out the better for the curse, everyone would feel a lot safer…I crept back in through the partially opened window and took my place above, upon the theatre's props for the new play; it had not yet been time to work the props, so I could work undetected. I waited for my chance. I did not have to wait for long.

As you stood on the stage to play the role of the king, and the young hussy Emelia joined you to play my role as queen, I quietly did the awful deed. I released the weight of cement and stones which I had loaded unto the prop from above your heads. I cringed as my blood boiled in anger, the sound below being awful in it's evil aftermath. I had crushed the skulls and bones of both bodies lying prone and broken below me, blood oozed from wounds which I could not identify or fathom from my horrible deed. I could have sworn that I saw you look up at me a moment before your eyes closed forever in the throes of death. I may have been mistaken, but it gave me great sadistic satisfaction to think that you knew that I knew what you had done.

I had not felt the least bit of remorse.

I hurried back down the steps as stealthily as I could, every attention was now focused on the bodies. Out through the window I climbed, and proceeded to promptly knock on the stage door for reentry. Verne opened the door, trying to stop me from entering, he though that I would have been heartbroken to look at the awful scene inside.

"What is it Verne, has something happened". I asked innocently, but with a tiny hint of concern.

"You should not come in, it is awful. It's the curse of he whom we do not speak of".

"What, whatever do you mean"? My hand flew to my mouth as the words sunk in.

"Oh my God, Verne. What has happened". I screamed, as everyone turned to stare at me, tears running down their cheeks.

I pushed Verne out of the way, ran inside and stopped dead in my tracks. Upon the stage I finally climbed, collapsing by the sides of the mangled forms lying crushed beneath the weights.

I had uttered the fateful word. MACBETH! I was responsible for this terrible accident. They both blamed and pitied me. I had been the cause of both the woeful deaths and my own unlucky loss.

No one ever suspected foul play. No one ever questioned the strength and depth of the belief of the curse. They never doubted for a single second the veracity or accuracy of the witches' curse.

The play had then been suspended for two weeks, while a new leading man and stand in for me were found and lines quickly and hurriedly rehearsed. I was allowed to mourn, but I wanted to continue. It was easier for me to work while I mourned. They totally understood.

Two nights later I awoke to find you lying beside me in the bed. My haunting had begun.

Every night for forty years you have come to haunt and encourage me to join you in the afterlife. Every morning I arose and went about my life, refusing to acknowledge your lamentations and pleadings. My life was dedicated to the theatre, I had become famous and had done really well for myself. Oh yes, I had adopted a daughter who wants nothing to do with acting. I am so very happy about that. I shall leave her all the inheritance for her work in the field of science.

So now, Ralston, that I am on my last breaths, journeying into the afterlife. I am writing this letter to let the world know the truth about your untimely demise. You watched as I wrote it and placed it inside the envelope for Moira to do with it what she will.

You were now content to go to your rest. Goodbye Ralston I waved feebly as you shimmered and disappeared.

With my last breath and strength, I arose from my bed and threw the letter into the crackling fire now roaring in the fireplace.

Soon, I can tell you to your face that no one will ever know the truth.

Patiently I await my final flight.

My only fear is what awaits me beyond the veil, will there be a price to pay for my sins. Will it have been worth it when I stand before my final judgement?

Only time will tell!!!!