Lady Macbeth

Dearest Diary

Castle Forres

Autumn, 1717

My dearest diary,

I have finally achieved it. My idiotic husband is now the 'honourable' and 'worthy' King of Scotland. The prophecy uncovered a forest fire of ambition that had previously been hidden by the existence of the pure idea of a sinless and innocent life. That fire burned down, blackened and destroyed all mental barricades that had stopped me from doing what needed to be done.

My weak husband, at first, doubted. He doubted that the necessary actions were that of a good future king. Of course not - they are the ruthless plans of a future powerful and longstanding queen and her king. He is a coward – barely able to stomach the idea of dispensing with his cousin. I cannot believe it - it was for a good cause! If only I could have completed the task myself. My womanliness has prohibited me from bettering myself far too many times and yet has prohibited me from becoming a mother as well.

If only I could have completed this task myself! I would not have to stand by this shocked, shivering, sleepless oaf besides me!

Cowards cry. I am not a coward. He is. The King. I fear that his ever-flowing salty tears and stupid guilt will wash away his sins and leave me alone in the depths of hell after all of this is done. At least I would finally be rid of him. But men who act like little girls deserve to be hardened like the great legend Sisyphus. The allegedly brutal Macbeth hardly had the courage to kill a lowly, worthless servant – how pathetic. I, a fragile woman, had to finish the job for him! My cold heart does not bleed from the act of sin but I know his does. It is visible even to the insane – the pure, innocent white bleeds out and it shows - he cannot conceal it. I despise his conscience but I crave his power.

The path to royalty is now clearer as Malcolm and Donalbain fled as soon as they heard of their father's murder. Macbeth claimed that it was because they were the former Kings murderers – the one of the most intuitive action he has taken in is life.

So, for now, if only for a moment, I can rest knowing that I have power - I am queen and the king is my puppet. However, I must not rest for long lest the unforgiving Apollo pull the sun into the sky and let it illuminate all that we have done. The weak-minded will shout and protest: "They are evil" and "They must fall". What if Macbeth cannot hold his tongue? What if his womanly little soul feels guilty and tells all, we will be torn to pieces – what will I do then? Will all that I have done go to waste?!

No! I will rule all of Scotland through the puppet master's strings tied to my husband. Foreign royalty will beg to attend banquets with us and form alliances; my power, wealth and influence will grow!

I have not had enough of the lovely maroon of freshly spilt blood. There are more obstacles in the way of my endless reign that need permanent disposal of: Banquo and Fleance along with Macduff's family. This will secure our places as rulers of Scotland for a long time to come.

Cruelly,

LM