The boast while they both fought for breath that no man of woman born should harm Macbeth, Macduff’s reply that he was ‘from his mother’s womb untimely ripped’ and then the final exit, Macduff driving him backwards and out. Macbeth’s scream, cut short, offstage. An empty stage for seconds, then trumpets and drums and re-enter Malcolm, old Siward and the thanes, in triumph. Big scene. Old Siward on his son’s death. Re-enter Macduff and Seyton with Macbeth’s head grinning on the point of his claymore. ‘Behold where stands the usurper’s cursed head,’ shouts Macduff.

Malcolm is hailed King of Scotland and the play is over.

‘Thank you, everybody,’ said Peregrine. ‘Thank you very much.’

And in the sounds of relief that answered him the clearly articulated treble of William Smith spoke the final word:

‘He got his comeuppance, didn’t he, Miss Gaythorne?’

V

When Peregrine had taken his notes and the mistakes had been corrected the cast stayed for a little while as if reluctant to break the bond that united them.

Dougal said: ‘Pleased, Perry?’

‘Yes. Very pleased. So pleased, I’m frightened.’

‘Not melodramatic?’

‘There were perhaps three moments when it slid over. None of them involved you, Dougal, and I’m not even sure about them. Will they laugh when the head comes on? Its face is seen only for a moment. Seyton’s downstage and its back’s to the audience.’

‘It’s taking a risk, of course. Seyton’s become a sort of Fate, hasn’t he? Or like Macbeth’s alter ego.’

‘Yes,’ Peregrine said gratefully. ‘Or his shadow. By the way, Gaston’s making the head.’

‘Good. Maggie darling,’ Dougal cried as she joined them. ‘You are wonderful. Satanic and lovely and baleful. I can’t begin to tell you. Thank you, thank you.’ He kissed her hands and her face and seemed unable to stop.

‘If I can get a word in,’ said Simon. He was beside them, his hair damp with sweat stuck to his forehead and a line of it glinted on his upper lip. Maggie pushed herself free of Dougal and held Simon by his woollen jacket. ‘Si!’ she said and kissed him. ‘You’re fantastic.’

They’ll run out of adjectives, Peregrine thought, and then we’ll all go to lunch.

Simon looked over the top of Maggie’s head at Dougal. ‘I seem to have won,’ he said. ‘Or do I?’

‘We’ve all won or hope we will have in three weeks’ time. It’s too early for these raptures,’ said Peregrine.

Maggie said: ‘I’ve got someone in a car waiting for me and I’m late.’ She patted Simon’s face and freed herself. ‘I’m not wanted this afternoon, Perry?’

‘No. Thank you, lovely.’

‘’Bye, everyone,’ she cried, and made for the stage door. William Smith ran ahead of her and opened it.

‘Ten marks for manners, William,’ she said.