Fleance

A sequel to William Shakespeare’s Macbeth

By Sophia Clark

May 2016

ACT I Scene 1

Two witches on stage stirring a cauldron.

All witches: Double Double Toil and Trouble.

Fire Burn and Cauldron bubble.

Enter adolescent Fleance.

Fleance: Great sisters, my father hath taught me of thee.

Thy stories of future as clear and true as those of past.

Prithee, I must know, if thou mayst tell me,

why my father met his end that perilous night.

His memory burns as a torch within me,

guiding my mind hither and thither in search of an end,

an answer to the unsolvable riddle, the curse upon me his death hath placed.

Now I wish to absolve myself of this,

Tis time that I grow to fit in my father’s shoes.

I implore thee,

Tell me who I must slay to make myself as much of a man as thou

Witch 1: Banquo, the thane slain by thee who wears the crown in cold blood.

Not alone, but with another who desired ‘t as much,

who too stood to keep it whilst your father sleeps soundly in his grave,

or so was the idea. But the end is bloody for the vanquishers of Banquo.

Witch 2: He t’was not the enemy, but t’was thee. Thou art the sole survivor, the great son of Banquo, heir to Scotland.

Witch 1: Hail Fleance, King of Scotland.

Exit Witches

Fleance: The weird sisters were as father told, more than a fable for a young boy.

His words were truth. But I, grown up an orphan servant boy as t’was, King of Scotland?

Tis an impossibility but yet I know ‘t to be truth.

And furthermore, King Malcolm

The great and merciful hath slain my father.

 And whom else. They spoke of two villains, who lusted for the throne.

Tis the brother of Malcolm? All tis a great weight upon the mind.

ACT I Scene 2

Enter King Malcolm and Queen Margaret.

Queen Margaret: Thine eyes look as though thou hath not slept a wink in ages.

What troubles thee so?

King Malcolm: The weight of Scotland rests on the top of my head,

The heaviest of burdens.

Scotland is weak in its recovery from the great illness of past.

The poison of prior tyranny still runs in its veins,

And tis the poison that consumes me.

Scotland not the land my father left.

When he departed unfortunately soon

Duncan is in his grave;

After life's fitful fever he sleeps well;

Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,

Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,

Can touch him further.

His troubles upon my shoulders

Wear away at mine own strength.

Enter Fleance, kneeling at the foot of the king, holding a platter of biscuits.

King Malcolm: Who art thou, young lad?

Fleance: I am but a mere servant boy,

Come to bring thee the finest of confection from thy kitchens.

Exeunt Fleance, leaving the silver platter.

ACT I Scene 3

Enter Fleance and a scullery maid, in the kitchens at dawn.

Maid: Fleance, hath thou heard of the loss of the king?

Fleance: I know not.  T’was bloody, I gather.

Maid: No t’was not.

He passed in sleep

As his father before.

Perhaps he hath succumbed

to the venom of life

Or perhaps ‘twas malice

‘Tis to be discovered.

But I must to my work

Good day, Fleance.

Exeunt Maid.

Fleance: ‘Tis peculiar.

The sisters spoke of a bloody end,

But ‘twere not.

‘Tis quite peculiar.

Exeunt Fleance