RALPH: Welcome back, everybody. We're happy to have in the studio with us Lady Macbeth herself, wife of the battle hero Macbeth. Welcome to the show. 

LADY MACBETH: Thank you for having me. I thought my husband was going to be here too. 

RALPH: Oh, yes. We're hoping he can join us, but this will give us a few minutes to talk, just the two of us, while we're waiting. 

LADY MACBETH: Me? What would you want to talk to me about? I know nothing about the battle. The women are safely locked in the castles, you know. 

RALPH: Yes, and that must be so difficult, to know that there's a civil war going on, and your husband's probably on the front lines and you're waiting to hear news. But you've received a letter. 

LADY MACBETH: A letter? 

RALPH: Yes, that Macbeth has sent to you. 

LADY MACBETH: How do you know about that? 

RALPH: I know, it's a private affair between you and your husband, but that's exactly what I'd like us to talk about. You can speak freely here. It's just the two of us. And this letter has some remarkable things in it. 

LADY MACBETH: There's amazing news in this letter. 

RALPH: Well, please, continue. I'd love to hear about it. 

LADY MACBETH: Okay. Let's see. He won the war, killed this guy, killed that guy-- Okay. Well, okay. So when he was coming from the battlefield, he was stopped by these—some very special people who—well, this is what he said. "He met me in the day of success, and I have learned by the perfectest report, they have more in them than mortal knowledge." 

RALPH: Huh. That's interesting. He says perfectest report, but we would say most perfect report. But I happen to know that at the time, he addressed them as imperfect speakers. 

LADY MACBETH: Wait. What? You were there? 

RALPH: Oh, no. Never mind. Please, let's continue. You said "more in them than mortal knowledge," so somehow, they know things—know more than us regular mortals can. And then what happened? 

LADY MACBETH: "When I burned in desire to question them further, they made themselves air into which they vanished." 

RALPH: Wow! Vanished into thin air. 

LADY MACBETH: "Once I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came missives from the King, who all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor'." 

RALPH: And he's not Thane of Cawdor. 

LADY MACBETH: No, he wasn't when he left home this morning. He's Thane of Glamis, but he must be Thane of Cawdor now. But wait, it gets better. "By which title before, these weird sisters saluted me," 

RALPH: I'm sorry. Weird sisters? 

LADY MACBETH: Wayward women. Wandering women. They have special powers. Have you never seen one? 

RALPH: Actually, I have met a few. But do you think their powers are real? 

LADY MACBETH: Of course. Can I get to the good part? 

RALPH: Oh, sure. Please, continue. 

LADY MACBETH: "And referred me to the coming on of time with, 'Hail, King that shalt be!'" Did you hear that? "King that shalt be?" 

RALPH: Yes. Wow. So they're saying that Macbeth will somehow be hailed as King some day. That's big news. But can they really know that? 

LADY MACBETH: Aren't you paying attention? They vanished into thin air and greeted my husband as Thane of Cawdor before we received the news from the King giving him the title, and now they're going to make him King. 

RALPH: Wait. Are they going to make him King, or are they just predicting that he'll be King? Do they do things, or do they just predict things? 

LADY MACBETH: They're weird sisters, Ralph. Who knows how it works. The point is, my husband shall be King. And here he is, hardly able to contain himself, sharing the news with me as soon as possible. "This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou might'st not lose the dues of rejoicing by being ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it to thy heart and farewell." 

RALPH: That's pretty sweet—"dearest partner of greatness." And he wants you to rejoice in the news as soon as possible, or as he puts it, to know what greatness is promised you, too. You two must be very close. 

LADY MACBETH: We most certainly are, we're a team. You can't say that about all thanes and their wives, but no, Macbeth and I are in this together. 

RALPH: So what are you thinking? Your mind must be racing. 

LADY MACBETH: Glamis thou art. 

RALPH: Wait, me? Oh, no. You mean Macbeth, of course. Right. He's Thane of Glamis. 

LADY MACBETH: And Cawdor. 

RALPH: And Thane of Cawdor. 

LADY MACBETH: And shall be what thou art promised. 

RALPH: You mean the King bit? But here we go again, is that a promise or is it a prediction? 

LADY MACBETH: Yet, do I fear thy nature. 

RALPH: You mean you're worried about the kind of person Macbeth is? That's what you mean by his nature? 

LADY MACBETH: It is too full of the milk of human kindness to catch the nearest way. 

RALPH: Macbeth? Full of human kindness? I thought this guy was a terror on the battlefield? Well, I suppose you could be a ferocious warrior and kind person at the same time, right? But this "a nearest way" bit—it sounds like you're saying that he's too nice of a guy to—I don't know—do the quick and dirty thing—the nearest way, as you put it. But does he have to really do anything at all? I mean, if there is such a thing as destiny—if Macbeth is destined to be King, for example—shouldn't it also be pre-determined how it will happen? I mean, is there really even such a thing as nearest way or longest way? I mean, shouldn't you just get out of the way and let fate take its course? 

LADY MACBETH: Thou wouldst be great. 

RALPH: You're saying that Macbeth wants to get ahead in life? Are you saying that he's maybe already had thoughts about being King? 

LADY MACBETH: Art not without ambition. 

RALPH: Exactly. So that's part of his nature, too. He's ambitious. 

LADY MACBETH: But without the illness that should attend it. 

RALPH: Illness—you mean the ability to do bad things. Are you saying that you can't be kind and ambitious? That being ambitious requires doing bad things? 

LADY MACBETH: What thou wouldst highly, thou wouldst thou holily. 

RALPH: Holy—you mean in a holy way. So he likes to play by the rules. That seems like a good quality. 

LADY MACBETH: Wouldst not play false, and yet wouldst wrongly win. 

RALPH: That sounds a little more complicated, but I think I'm following you. He doesn't want to do bad things—wouldst not play false, as you put it—like cheat in order to get something—but he wouldn't mind having those things, even if he doesn't deserve them. He wouldn't want to break the rules to get stuff, but he would accept that same stuff if you just gave it to him. I think there's actually a lot of people like that, actually. They think they're good people because they wouldn't do bad things to get things that they don't deserve, but they wouldn't say no to those things if they were just handed to them, even though they don't deserve them. Is that what you mean? 

LADY MACBETH: Thoud'st have, great Glamis, that which cries, "Thus, thou must do," if thou have it. 

RALPH: You have a very confusing way of talking, but I think I get it. He wants the thing that might require doing something bad. 

LADY MACBETH: And that which rather thou dost fear to do than wishest should be undone. 

RALPH: But in the end, he's afraid to do the bad thing, because he's worried that he'll end up wishing he hadn't done it. Sounds like you know your husband pretty well, and it sounds like he's just not willing to do bad things in order to get something that he doesn't deserve. So if you don't mind me reading between the lines a little bit, this nearest way to becoming King that you're talking about, it sounds like that would require doing something bad. But that's just the kind of thing that your husband isn't really up to doing. He's just not that kind of a person. So I guess this nearest way isn't really an option, at least at this point. And if you don't mind my saying, I'm on his side. I mean, if he's basically a good guy—

LADY MACBETH: Hie thee hither that I may pour my spirits in thine ear, and chastise with the valor of my tongue all that impedes thee from the golden round. 

RALPH: Oh, my. Well, okay. Well, it sounds like you want to talk him into it—talk him into doing bad things, right? In order to get the crown or the golden round, as you call it. But it's a little disturbing, what you say there. I mean, you just said, "chastise with the valor of my tongue." So first of all, you chastise or you punish something that's bad. But based on what you just said, you want to chastise his impulse to be good. And then valor is supposed to be a good thing, so how can your tongue or your words be good things if they're trying to defeat his kindness? Do you see what I'm saying? And do really want your husband—your partner in greatness, as you say—to do bad things in order to be King? 

LADY MACBETH: Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem to have thee crowned withal. 

RALPH: Well, hold on a second. Are you suggesting that you wouldn't be responsible for those things because these weird sisters—or fate and metaphysical aid, as you put it—have already crowned him? Here, I think your logic is a little shaky. I mean, can he be both already crowned and yet you have to do something—something bad, I might add—in order to get him crowned? I mean how can he be both already crowned and not yet crowned? I'm not usually a very aggressive interviewer, but—I guess I'm too full of the milk of human kindness, you might say—but I think this question needs an answer. 

LADY MACBETH: What is your tidings? 

RALPH: Tidings? Oh. Sorry. Tidings, yes. It's at this moment that a messenger enters to tell you that—oh, oh my—the King is coming to your castle tonight. Yep, King Duncan is on his way to your castle. 

LADY MACBETH: You must be kidding. Is Macbeth with him? Why didn't he tell me that I should get ready for a visit from the King? 

RALPH: Is there a lot to do when a King visits? 

LADY MACBETH: Of course! I should at least straighten up. 

RALPH: Well, it says here that Macbeth is on his way, too. He must be trying to get here as fast as he can, but he has sent a messenger to run ahead of him. 

LADY MACBETH: This is great news, Ralph. 

RALPH: Well, yes, I suppose it is. Must be very special for a King to come to your castle for a visit. 

LADY MACBETH: The raven himself is hoarse that croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan under my battlements. 

RALPH: Oh, I'm sorry, did you just say fatal entrance of Duncan? Why would it be fatal? 

LADY MACBETH: Come, you spirits that tend on mortal thoughts—

RALPH: Oh, dear. Here we go again. 

LADY MACBETH: —unsex me here— 

RALPH: Excuse me. Unsex you? I'm almost afraid to ask. 

LADY MACBETH: —and fill me from the crown to the toe top-full of direst cruelty. 

RALPH: Oh, I get it. Sounds like you're saying that it's not like a woman to be cruel. So to be cruel, you need to be less of a woman, you need to be unsexed. But is it really true that women can't be cruel? I mean, didn't you just say that it's Macbeth who's having trouble being cruel? And he's a guy. 

LADY MACBETH: Make thick my blood, stop up the access and passage to remorse, that no compunctious visitings of nature shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between the effect and it. 

RALPH: "Stop up the access to remorse." Can I just say that if you think that you might feel remorse after doing something, wouldn't it just be better to not do that thing in the first place than to wish you not feel the remorse afterwards? And what if you're not actually able to stop the remorse from happening? I mean, have you thought about that? 

LADY MACBETH: Come to my woman's breasts and take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, wherever in your sightless substances you wait on nature's mischief. 

RALPH: Wow. Did you just say you want to breastfeed evil spirits? 

LADY MACBETH: Come, thick night, and pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, that my keen knife see not the wound it makes, nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark to cry, "Hold, hold!" 

RALPH: Lady M. Mrs. Macbeth. Do you have a first name, by the way? I'm not sure I have your first name. 

LADY MACBETH: Great Glamis—

RALPH: Oh, look who we have here. Welcome. 

LADY MACBETH: —and worthy Cawdor, greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter. 

RALPH: All-hail hereafter—you mean becoming King? Boy, you went straight to the point. 

LADY MACBETH: Your letter has totally transported me, it's like the future is already here. 

MACBETH: Would you mind if we—It'll just take a second. 

RALPH: Go right ahead. Don't mind me. 

MACBETH: Honey, my dearest love, Duncan is coming here tonight. 

LADY MACBETH: And when does he leave? 

MACBETH: Tomorrow. At least that's his plan. 

LADY MACBETH: Oh, never shall sun that morrow see. 

RALPH: Excuse me. The sun won't see tomorrow? 

LADY MACBETH: You need to wipe that look off your face. 

RALPH: You do look a little tense. 

LADY MACBETH: If we're going to fool people, you need to look like someone who's happily welcoming the King into your home. 

RALPH: But isn't that what's actually happening? You're welcoming the King into your home. 

LADY MACBETH: Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it. 

RALPH: Serpent? 

LADY MACBETH: Go get ready for the King, and I'll take care of tonight's great business. 

RALPH: And what is that, exactly, this great business? 

LADY MACBETH: And once it's done, the rest of our lives will be ours to rule, 

RALPH: You mean because Macbeth will be King. You know, he's just gotten back from the battle. Are you sure he's on board with this? 

MACBETH: We'll talk more about this later. 

LADY MACBETH: Fine, but cheer up a little. If you feel tense, you're going to look tense. Then leave the rest to me. 

RALPH: Oh, good. So my turn? I have so many questions for the two of you, and if we can ju—sorry, excuse me, just—Wait, what? We're out of time? No, I don't have to be anywhere. Really? Okay. Thanks so much for joining us.