Last night we saw Macbeth at the National Theatre in London. The stage was dressed in hanging plastic sheets. Heads were cut off and hung on poles in plastic bags, wine dispensed from a plastic jerrican. Lady Macbeth’s first speech, addressed to her husband in his absence, stuck in my mind:
… Thou wouldst be great;
Art not without ambition, but without
The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false,
And yet wouldst wrongly win.
Macbeth shouldn’t, in her view, muck about.
Earlier in the day I took part in a wargaming competition, the De Bellis Antiquitatis Northern Cup in Newark. As someone put it, no-one was a millimetre-measurer. No-one would wrongly win. (I ended up mid-table with three wins, two defeats and a draw and had a wonderful day.)