DAVINA: Welcome back, your highness. I know that this is a very difficult time, so I really appreciate you joining us. 

MACBETH: Spin this along. 

DAVINA: Yes. At this point, we find you still within your castle walls with your armor-bearer, Seyton, and some of your soldiers, and it sounds like there's a large army somewhere nearby. 

MACBETH: I'm well aware. Everyone keeps shouting, the enemy is coming, but our castle walls can withstand a siege. The enemy can sit out there till hunger and illness devour them all. If it weren't for the traitors who joined the English forces, I could have met them in battle and driven them back. Do you hear something? 

DAVINA: No, I didn't hear anything. Let's see. Oh, yes, you're right. Seyton says he heard some women cry out. That sounds worrisome. 

MACBETH: I've almost forgotten what fear taste like. It used to be my blood would run cold if I heard a scream in the night and my hair would stand on end. 

DAVINA: Yes, as if your hair had life in it, you say. 

MACBETH: But now that I've seen my fill of horrors, and because I have my own slaughterous thoughts, this kind of stuff has no effect on me anymore. 

DAVINA: Well, you've been through a lot. 

MACBETH: What were these women shouting about? 

DAVINA: Well, let's see. Oh dear, I'm so sorry about this. It sounds like the queen, your wife, is dead. 

MACBETH: She should have died hereafter. 

DAVINA: Hereafter? You mean, later? She should have died later? 

MACBETH: She should have died later. 

DAVINA: Do you mean, she should have had a long life? Or do you just mean right now is not a good time for her to die? 

MACBETH: There would have been time for such a word. 

DAVINA: Oh. You mean death. There would have been a time for the word death. Is there a good time for that word? 

MACBETH: Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. Creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays of lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle. Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. 

DAVINA: My, that's depressing. Look, I know things must seem really bad right now. You're being attacked by a huge army, you have no friends, really, and now your wife, who was in incredible emotional pain, has died. But, well, what can I say? I guess things are pretty bad. Hard to find a silver lining in your case. 

MACBETH: Mm. 

DAVINA: Oh, but then a messenger arrives at this point. Maybe the messenger has some good news. 

MACBETH: Does the messenger have a tongue, or am I supposed to read his mind? 

DAVINA: Oh, right. I'm sorry. Let's see. He says, he wants to tell you exactly what he saw, but he's not sure how to do it. 

MACBETH: Well, he should try. 

DAVINA: Of course. Here's what he says. "As I did stand my watch upon the hill, I looked toward Birnam and anon, I thought the wood began to move." Oh, my. The forest looked like it was moving. Not the good news I was hoping for. Isn't that what the witches—

MACBETH: He's a liar. 

DAVINA: Well, he swears it's true. 

MACBETH: If he's lying, I will hang him from the nearest tree and leave him there until he starves to death. And if he's telling the truth, then he can do the same to me. I'm suddenly losing a bit of my confidence here, Devina. 

DAVINA: Well, I think that's understandable. I mean, the witches told you that you couldn't be beaten until Birnam Wood moved to Dunsinane. And now from the sounds of it—

MACBETH: Yes, I get it. I'm starting to doubt those fiends who tell lies that sounded like truth. 

DAVINA: Well, but—I mean, did they really lie? I mean, I guess they deceived you, kind of. It's very confusing. 

MACBETH: Arm. 

DAVINA: Excuse me? 

MACBETH: Arm and out. 

DAVINA: You're going into battle? But I thought the best strategy was to wait in here? Stay behind your castle walls. 

MACBETH: If what he says is true, then there's no escape. So what's the sense of waiting here? I'm getting weary of the sun, Davina. 

DAVINA: Of the sun? 

MACBETH: Yeah. You know, of this? Of being king, of life itself. So ring the alarm bell. Blow, wind. Come, wrack. At least we'll die with harness on our back. 

DAVINA: I guess he wants to go down fighting.