Enter First Murderer

MACBETH      See, they encounter thee with their hearts’ thanks.

Both sides are even; here I’ll sit i’th’ midst.

Be large in mirth. Anon we’ll drink a measure

The table round. [To First Murderer] There’s blood upon thy face.

MURDERER                ’Tis Banquo’s then.

MACBETH      ’Tis better thee without than he within.

Is he dispatched?

MURDERER    My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him.

MACBETH      Thou art the best o’th’ cut-throats. Yet he’s good

That did the like for Fleance. If thou didst it,

Thou art the nonpareil.

MURDERER                Most royal sir,

Fleance is scaped.                 (3.4.8-19)

 

Sometimes stage directions get squished on the page, moved around slightly to fit with the text but (having just looked at the Folio) that’s not the case here; the type-setting is notably generous, and there’s actually quite a lot of white space. So it seems important that the First Murderer enters relatively early, that Macbeth is in full hostly flight either before he notices him or—more interesting—that he sees him immediately, but has to continue doing the jolly welcome thing, even as he’s desperate to know what’s happened, and anxious about managing his encounter with a murderer in the midst of a dinner party at which he is the host… That it’s the First Murderer absolutely fits with the dynamics of the murderers as a group: the Third Murderer might even be present already, one of the thanes, or else doubling one of them. The way in which doubling worked on the early modern stage, that a different costume would usually mean a different character, could make this nicely ambiguous—is, say, Lennox just Lennox, played by the same actor as the Third Murderer, or is Lennox the Third Murderer? The Second Murderer could well be doubling too, perhaps one of the servants (there must be servants in this scene, or a thane)—but also he’s been the timid one; it’s unlikely that he’d be showing up to report that the job hasn’t been properly done.

Meanwhile Macbeth is being gracious: he comments that the guests encounter Lady Macbeth with their hearts’ thanks; they’ve perhaps applauded, raised glasses, banged on the table even if this is a raucous, already inebriated gathering. He notes, crucially, that both sides are even, the guests are equally distributed around the table, and so he’ll sit in the midst, squeeze into the middle of one of the long sides of the table. (Lady Macbeth is probably at one end and there would therefore be a chair for Macbeth at the other end, at the head of the table.) If Macbeth sits in the middle of a long side of the table, especially if the table’s set up so that its long side is parallel with the back wall of the stage, then the table might look incongruously like the Last Supper, Christ in the midst of his disciples, about to be betrayed by Judas, a familiar moment in mystery plays and visual art. Macbeth, though, is the traitor here. He’s keeping the party going, though, encouraging his guests to drink and have a good time: be large in mirth. Anon we’ll drink a measure the table round. In a moment, we’ll have a toast: charge your glasses!

Then a brilliant jump cut (who notices what’s going on? Lady Macbeth? Anyone else?) Does the Murderer approach the table? Has Macbeth not in fact sat down but rather gone over to where the Murderer is lurking, nervously, apprehensively, perhaps with a bit of bravado? There’s blood upon thy face. Makes it even more tense, obviously, that a man with a bloody face has intruded into this court occasion, but it’s also a shocking reminder of the violence that’s just taken place. The Murderer’s defiant, or at least reassuring: ’tis Banquo’s then, and Macbeth too blusters a bit, making a dodgy joke, ’tis better thee without than he within, better that it’s on your face than still pulsing in this veins. Is he dispatched? Have you done it? (Is my friend dead, on my orders?) My lord, his throat is cut, nasty, brutal, incontrovertible (and perhaps setting up the visuals for what’s about to happen, as well as the murder itself?) That I did for him. (So, reward me most.) Thou art the best o’th’ cut-throats. Another not even really a joke, but it’s what the First Murderer wants to hear, too, that he’s the best, the leader, the one who’s come through. But now the crunch: what about the boy? He’s good that did the like for Fleance: the man who killed the child is excellent too; if you were also responsible for that, then you’re the nonpareil, the best, unequalled. Time to come clean, and so there’s a retreat into deference, most royal sir, Fleance is scaped. He got away. Say it, and wait for the explosion.