Death of King Duncan I
King Duncan I of Scotland lies mortally wounded on the battlefield near Pitgaveny, surrounded by his loyal thanes and a battlefield medic. Macbeth, his ambitious cousin and trusted general, stands nea
Setting
A rugged battlefield near Pitgaveny, Scotland, under the cover of night. The terrain is uneven with patches of heather and gorse, and the scent of damp earth mingles with the metallic tang of blood. The distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs can be faintly heard.
Characters
King Duncan I
primary
A regal figure of late middle age, with a strong but now weakened frame. His once proud bearing is broken by mortal wounds. His silver-streaked beard and long hair are matted with blood and dirt, and his piercing blue eyes, though dimming, still hold authority.
Macbeth
primary
A powerfully built man in his mid-30s with a warrior's physique. His face is angular with piercing eyes that reflect both determination and inner turmoil. Dark hair, slightly disheveled from battle, frames a face marked by recent combat.
Loyal Thane
secondary
A nobleman in his mid-40s, with a strong, battle-hardened build. His face is lined with the marks of many campaigns, and his piercing blue eyes reflect both wisdom and sorrow. His dark hair, streaked with silver, is tied back in a simple warrior's knot.
Battlefield Medic
secondary
A middle-aged man with a wiry build, his face weathered by years of battlefield experience. His hands are rough and calloused, yet move with precision. His dark hair is streaked with grey, tied back with a simple leather thong. His eyes are sharp and observant, accustomed to assessing injuries quickly.
Young Squire
background
A youth of about 16 years, slight of build with a tousled mop of sandy hair. His face is smooth, bearing the softness of one not yet fully grown into manhood. His wide, blue eyes reflect the flickering torchlight, and his hands tremble slightly at his sides.
Dialog
King Duncan I
Macbeth... thou hast struck deeper than steel this night... We trusted thee as kin...
Macbeth
The crown demands what the crown demands. Fate's thread is cut.
Loyal Thane
By all that is holy! My liege! What black treachery is this?
King Duncan I
Hear now... our last decree... Let no man... call thee king... who gained it thus...
Macbeth
Silence, old man! The Morrígan's crows already feast upon thy legacy!
Loyal Thane
I swear by Christ's wounds - this deed shall echo through every hall in Alba!
King Duncan I
May God... show thee... more mercy... than we... can...