Crossover with "Pride and Prejudice"

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single Thane in possession of a shaky prophesy, must be in want of a kingship.

However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a Second Consultation, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding white-masked ghosts, that the kingship is considered the rightful property of some or other of his wives.

"My dear Macbeth," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Duncan is visiting at last?"

Macbeth replied that he had not.

"But he is," returned she; "for The Second Mrs. De Winter has just been here, and she told me all about it."

Macbeth made no answer.

"Do you not want to know when he arrives?" cried his wife impatiently.

"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."

This was invitation enough.

"Why, my dear, you must know, The Second Mrs. De Winter says that Duncan is arriving to praise you for your work during the war; that his son Malcolm came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed immediately; that Duncan is to arrive here before Michaelmas, and his servant is to be in the house by the end of next week. If the servant tries to make you to drink something, I advise against it."

"What is the servant's name?"

"Mrs. Danvers."

"Is the king married or single?"

"Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for us!"

"How so? How can it affect us?"

"My dear Macbeth," replied his wife, "how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of you killing him and becoming king."

"Is that your design in having him come here?"

"Design! Nonsense, how can you talk so!"

"I see no occasion for that. You may go, or you may send the witches, or you may send him to play cards with Hecate, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them, Duncan may like you the best of the party."

"My dear, you flatter me. I certainly have had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has an entire abandoned school to look after, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty."

"In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of."

"But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Duncan when he comes into the Old Lincoln School. And kill him. Horribly."

"It is more than I engage for, I assure you."

"But consider me. Only think what an establishment it would be for me to be Queen. MacDuff and Lady MacDuff are determined to go, merely on that account, for in general, you know, they visit no newcomers. Indeed you must go and kill him, for it will be impossible for us to become King and Queen if you do not."

"You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Duncan won't be very glad to see me; and I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to my killing him."

"Macbeth, how can you abuse my machinations in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves."

"You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least."

"Ah, you do not know what I suffer. LOOK AT THIS SPOT ON MY HAND!"

"But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many Kings of four thousand a year come into the neighbourhood for me to commit regicide upon."

"It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not kill them."

"Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will kill them all."

Macbeth was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, interpretive dance, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Her mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, jumping on beds, wandering through halls in a sleepwalk daze, unbridled ambition, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. The business of her life was to have her husband kill the king and then become suicidally guilty over it; its solace was visiting and news.