Nigel Tranter: The Wisest Fool

Bowing away but not overhurriedly, the Heriots moved back to Duke Ludovick.

"Good for you, my dear," Lennox greeted. "Nicely played, I think. You should be safely back in Anne's favour, now."

"So long as I did not overdo it with the King," she murmured. "I did not really offend him, Geordie?"

"Not you, lass. James does not offend easily. Not over boldness. He'll think the more of you for a bit of spirit. That's what these English do not understand about him. They tend to grovel to their kings, as we do not." "You do not, anyway, Geordie!" Lennox chuckled, "I've never seen less of a groveller than Master Craftsman Heriot, in all my days" "Ssshh! The curtain, my lord Duke…"

The second act, ah at Inverness Castle, went well, with a minimum of royal interpolation, James quite caught up in the drama of it all, and the unfolding wickedness of Lady MacBeth, which so accurately bore out all his own assertions as to the essential baseness of the female nature. He was constrained at one stage to point out loudly, however, in ah fairness, that the woman -whose right name was Gruach-had some reason for believing that Duncan had less right to the throne than herself, his cousin, since she represented the elder line. But that, to be sure, did not give her the right to suggest the murder of the Lord's Anointed, the which there was no fouler crime in earth or heaven.

By the time the second interval was over, the refreshments, offstage and on, were beginning to have their effect. Even a three-act play was really over-long to put before a Court audience of this reign-and this one was reputed to have no fewer than five. Some of the actors, notably the Earl of Lennox, were speaking with increasing thickness-a circumstance which did not fail to rebound on his modern counterpart, in quips and sallies. When he came to the line, "My former speeches have but hit your thoughts," and rendered it, "My former theetches have but shit your sorts", he all but brought down the house-to his own surprise, since his was a comparatively minor part The rest of his speech went unheard, to the complete demoralisation of the poor man; and Shakespeare himself, who as Banquo had just been slain, had to come back on stage wearing another lord's cloak to pronounce the important finale of the act,

… some holy angel, fly to the Court of England and unfold, His message ere he come, That a swift, blessing may soon return to this our suffering country, Under a hand accurst…

The curtain drew again, James was not too happy about the impact of that. Having missed, through the noise, the fact that the now murdered Duncan had a son at the English Court and he it was who was being thus advised and summoned, the last bit sounded rather as though England were some superior and blest realm urged to come to the rescue of accursed Scotland-which was assuredly not the object of the evening's entertainment. It took the monarch all of the third interval to explain the true situation to a not very attentive audience.

In the circumstances, the so dramatic ghost-and witch-haunted fourth act, with cave and cauldron, scarcely gained the rapt attention and horror it deserved-although there were cheers for the re-appearance of Banquo, however wraith-like. The sudden switch to MacDuff's castle in Fife was lost upon most onlookers, who, having once gone astray were not greatly concerned to return. Even the English Court scene failed to grip or be understood, apart from MacDuff's challenging question, "Stands Scotland where she did?" which received a notably vehement and unamimous answer from a large part of the gathering. And the final line of this act, Prince Malcolm's cry, "The night is long that never finds a day!" was taken up by all, with heartfelt fervour.

The last act, back in Scotland, at Dunsinane, interested Alison and Heriot more than it did most-though that was scarcely the fault of the playwright, who had fulfilled his exceedingly onerous task nobly, nor of Ben Jonson, whose no fewer than seventeen different scenes were a triumph of invention and design, even though none were recognisably Scottish in character. Success in the presentation of dramatic entertainment depends on many factors-and few of the necessary were present at Hampton Court that night Birnam Wood on the move, admittedly, was a great success, with the entire Court hallooing loudly, as at a buck-hunt; and MacBeth's head, dripping realistic gore and upraised on MacDuff's spear, was cheered to the echo. All, even King James, accepted that as the finish-and so were spared Malcolm's valedictory speech, however hopefully it began, "We shall not spend a large expense of time…"

Probably Will Shakespeare was as relieved to see the end as were his audience. "Think you this piece will serve to endear us Scots to the longsuffering English?" Lennox wondered, as they made their way out in the royal train. "Since that, I understand, was its object"

"I doubt it." Heriot sighed. "Not to this Court, at any rate- which I fear is far beyond conversion. It may serve better with the commonality of playgoers, who have longer wits if shorter pedigrees! Who knows? For there is much good in it. Had we been able to heed it properly, I would have enjoyed it, I think."

"Poor Master Shakespeare," Alison sympathised. "Who would be a playwright? I think it was splendid-or should have been. He was casting his pearls before swine, here."

"It is James I am sorry for," her husband said. "Shakespeare will know its worth and will play it to better effect another time. But this was the King's conception, his dream to serve Scotland and the Scots. He will be a sore disappointed man this night- though, I swear, he will never show it Have a thought for Jamie -even though half the fault was his own."

The Heriots did indeed go to see the play of MacBeth again, some weeks later, when it was performed before a more conventional audience at the Globe, Southwark-and enjoyed it greatly. But now there was another Banquo, for Will Shakespeare had finally done what he had been threatening to do for long-shaken the dust of London from his feet and gone back to his native Stratford, in Warwickshire, there to live the better life. George Heriot asked himself, and his wife, whether the playwright was not the wiser man than he? Alison was young enough still to find the bustle and excitement of the city and Court alluring- but she agreed that a small landed property in green Strathearn, say, near to Methven would make a joyous contemplation. Perhaps in a year or two…?

Not that the news from Scotland that whiter and spring of 1609-10 was such as to entice exiles home. Trouble was brewing, harshness and uncertainty both were rife in the rule and governance, and rumours of plots, uprisings, even armed invasion from abroad, abounded. On the face of it, the struggle appeared to be between Dunbar and the rising tide of Catholicism, but those in the know tended to see it as between King James in London and Patrick, Lord Gray. Dunbar, now to all intents supreme in Scotland, was highly unpopular and known to be feathering his own nest hugely. But against Gray he seemed to be able to achieve nothing, for the latter appeared on the surface to be leading a blameless, innocuous and normal life for a peer of the realm, sheriffing it in Angus, managing large estates there and in Fife, making entirely worthy public appearances in Dundee, Aberdeen, Glasgow and the capital, ornamenting all he touched. But there was little doubt that he, not Dunbar nor yet Dunfermline, was beginning to all but control the Privy Council, as once he had done before. And that a constant succession of unknown visitors, some said to be Jesuits, came and went by night at Castle Huntly in the Carse of Gowrie, Broughty Castle and other of his houses.

Heriot got most of his information from letters sent by Mary Gray to Lennox. And from these, certain significant pointers emerged. For instance, that the Lord Gray had stood security to the Council in no less than twenty thousand pounds, for the captive Earl of Orkney, in order that he should be freed from Edinburgh Castle for a short space-a vast sum to hazard for so apparently small privilege. It was thought that Orkney had been quietly spirited off to Castle Huntly for some important conference-and then as quietly returned to durance vile. Then, only a month or so later, Patrick Gray was again standing surety to the Council, this time for five thousand pounds, for Orkney's younger brother James Stewart, that he should cease importing arms and ammunitions into the Isles of Orkney from France and confine his person to a limited area of mainland Scotland-though that area centred on Angus within Gray's influence and sheriffdom. Again, that same spring, he was standing surety-though only for five hundred merks this time-for Sinclair of Murkill, again not to transport arms and munitions to Orkney. Others, too, troubled the Council with secret and ominous activities-and for all, Patrick Gray, or one of his Catholic friends, nobly stood cautioner. It seemed that he now had almost unlimited funds at his disposal.