The banquet hall was disquietingly huge. An intricately detailed table was covered by an ill-white table cloth and there was a grand ceiling with lights hanging high above the heads of the guests. The new King Macbeth had thousands of slaves chaotically running around; they all had a posture which told stories of hard work and dedication to their cause. Yet I doubt the King knew even half their names. The room itself was overly decorated with expensive gold-plates and paintings that portrayed pictures of glory and desire and madness. Chairs were lined up in endless rows, each with a cushion that wasn’t as comfortable as it looked. There was a band of five playing in the corner. The music flowed out of their instruments and filled the room
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As the King, his wife and his entourage entered the hall, people stood up. They clapped and cheered and whispered and feared. The band blew their trumpets and their trombones and their tubas, filling the room with a welcoming racket. Macbeth greeted his audience and walked to the centre of the stage. He took his seat and signaled for his subjects to do the same. His eye was drawn to a man lingering behind his seat, by the back entrance to room. The man was wearing robes and bruised leather boots and a metal breastplate awkwardly sat on top of his torso, a sword in its sheath by his side. His hand rested on the hilt of it, as if these pretenders were a threat to him. He had the look of a respectful knight; his eyes were icy blue, vicious and cold and told stories of hatred and hurt. Macbeth glanced back to the table. The guests were chatting and smiling, as their script told them to. No one seemed to notice his discomfort. Macbeth whispered something in his wife’s ear, and crept to the back of the hall to stand by the man. I followed, trying to get a closer view of the two. Every single guest noticed the secrecy in the King’s action; none protested against …show more content…
“Right here!” Ross replied, motioning to what he saw as an empty seat. The guests watched with expressions filled with confusion, looking at my seat. They looked right through my body, as if I weren’t there.
“Which one of you did this?” Macbeth openly accused, interrogating the suspects with a significant ferocity that radiated around the room. The lords all shook their heads, spooked by the king’s words.
“My King, calm down!” Lady Macbeth said quietly, her soft yet shallow voice ringing crisp and cold in the heads of those around her. She turned to the subjects, and addressed them brutally. “Your King is hallucinating. Please excuse his majesty.” Macbeth, startled by the scene, was frozen to the spot. He was an ice cube trapped in the heat, all his solidity melting
As the King, his wife and his entourage entered the hall, people stood up. They clapped and cheered and whispered and feared. The band blew their trumpets and their trombones and their tubas, filling the room with a welcoming racket. Macbeth greeted his audience and walked to the centre of the stage. He took his seat and signaled for his subjects to do the same. His eye was drawn to a man lingering behind his seat, by the back entrance to room. The man was wearing robes and bruised leather boots and a metal breastplate awkwardly sat on top of his torso, a sword in its sheath by his side. His hand rested on the hilt of it, as if these pretenders were a threat to him. He had the look of a respectful knight; his eyes were icy blue, vicious and cold and told stories of hatred and hurt. Macbeth glanced back to the table. The guests were chatting and smiling, as their script told them to. No one seemed to notice his discomfort. Macbeth whispered something in his wife’s ear, and crept to the back of the hall to stand by the man. I followed, trying to get a closer view of the two. Every single guest noticed the secrecy in the King’s action; none protested against …show more content…
“Right here!” Ross replied, motioning to what he saw as an empty seat. The guests watched with expressions filled with confusion, looking at my seat. They looked right through my body, as if I weren’t there.
“Which one of you did this?” Macbeth openly accused, interrogating the suspects with a significant ferocity that radiated around the room. The lords all shook their heads, spooked by the king’s words.
“My King, calm down!” Lady Macbeth said quietly, her soft yet shallow voice ringing crisp and cold in the heads of those around her. She turned to the subjects, and addressed them brutally. “Your King is hallucinating. Please excuse his majesty.” Macbeth, startled by the scene, was frozen to the spot. He was an ice cube trapped in the heat, all his solidity melting