Ambition endures. Even when everything else has fallen.
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My Lady,
The deed is done, and there’s still much more to do. Without you.
The fire of my ambition still burns. The crown is mine; nothing keeps me from it.
Not even you.
Our actions have had consequences. But Scotland is mine. The worst has passed.
We were partners in the deed, not of the heart. I recall the precise coldness of the act.
Your guidance. Its significance. You lit the path I walked on. You prompted. I followed.
We fell. The redness of that spot gleams.
We did murder sleep. Sleep. No. More.
Where I go next is not your path to follow. You sought the crown; I wear the curse of
golden rot.
And so the deed is still to do. The course is yet for you.
Macbeth
Thane of Cawdor
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