@Anja Geitz
daughter, not son) played Puck in APT's production of Midsummer Night's Dream two years ago, and she was AWESOME.

actually, the whole thing was awesome, absolutely amazingly brilliant. i won't ever bother to see another production, because ... well, just because. this thing was definitive.

#8.1.1.2

Sounds like a very interesting adaption of the play. Hope you enjoy it!

@TheOtherMaven
play, i'll go to college and get a history degree, including spending a year in scotland studying scottish history.

oh wait ... i already did.

they gently corrected me when i pronounced "moray" (as in the Earl thereof) to rhyme with "foray", rather than a homophone of "murray".

here is a song commemorating the battle at which John Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, lost his life leading a Jacobite army to victory against a force loyal to William II (during the first uprising in 1689). Claverhouse was nicknamed "Bonnie Dundee". Wikipedia claims this was in admiration for his fatal victory, but I have my doubts -- if you look at some of his portraits, you'll discover that unlike almost all other European aristocrats (including supposedly beautiful ones), Dundee was kinda hot.

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3Kp590Ovsw]

The lyrics were mostly written by Bobbie Burns. It's from the perspective of one of the survivors from William's army -- which may have been partly a political move by Burns. Even decades after the fact, one had to be a bit careful about writing admiringly of the Jacobites. The basic idea of the song is that this veteran is sitting somewhere, maybe in a tavern, and sees a young soldier -- probably a lieutenant -- boastfully showing off his spiffy new uniform and acting all macho an a' tha'. The vet confronts the greenhorn and gives him the lowdown on the reality of war.
Killiecrankie was an astonishing slaughter. The Jacobites trapped William's troops marching down a long defile, flanked on either side by a hillside and river. The Government troops made their way partly up the hill, and deployed in a 3-deep line. After a few hours of smack talk, the highlanders charged down the hill, taking 3 volleys of withering rifle fire. The highlanders then fired a single volley, dropped their muskets, and came at the redcoats with swords. They killed at least 2000 of the 3500-strong force. The highlanders themselves lost about 800 out of 2400, most of them from the rifle fire during their charge.
Those kind of casualties were almost unheard-of in a battle that involved no artillery. Anyone who made it out alive would have been pretty damned traumatized.

#8.1.1.2

Then again, by the time it got into Shakepeare's hand, the resemblance to the historical facts was already very faint and very loose. (Which never stopped Shakespeare, especially when he could turn a nice compliment to the ruling house - in this case the Stewarts, who claimed descent from Banquo.)

However, the actual Stewart descent is from the Breton seneschals of Dol, who were relative (i.e. post-Conquest) latecomers to the British Isles. "Banquo" never existed, nor did "Fleance".

It is unclear exactly when the Macduffs obtained the mormaership of Fife - the earliest records post-date Malcolm III. Whether there was a "thane of Fife" who turned his coat, or whether he was a convenient fictional figure, is highly debatable.

Finally, Shakespeare (or his sources) borrowed heavily from an earlier period of Scottish history to point a "moral" tale. It was an earlier king, King Duff, who was murdered in a castle where he was supposedly a guest. Duncan was not an old man, but a young and rather reckless one, and he made enemies more easily than most people make friends. His biggest howler of an error was ticking off Jarl Thorfinn of Orkney, who was very smart and very capable, thank you very much, and who kicked his butt all the way to Tarbat Ness. What exactly happened on the shore is a matter of much interpretation and dispute - some say Duncan died of his wounds, some say his own soldiers turned on him and fool-killed him. In any case, somebody had to clean up the mess, and Thorfinn wasn't interested.

Duncan, Thorfinn, and Macbeth were all first cousins, grandsons of king Malcolm II by his three daughters (Malcolm II had no surviving sons). Macbeth had an additional claim through his wife, the Lady Gruoch, whose father was Malcolm II's brother and whose son (by previous husband Gillecomgain) was also in line to inherit (he wound up being Macbeth's heir but was less competent even than Duncan, and was hunted down and killed).

Macbeth was actually a pretty good king, by the standards of the time: he built churches, didn't oppress the peasantry too much, tried to deal fairly with friends and enemies alike, and was generally popular enough that a number of families named sons for him (leading to a plethora of "mac Macbeths" in the next generation or two, and a lot of confusion for later genealogists). His only big worry, and it was a real one, was that Malcolm, Duncan's son, would grow up to be a warrior and come back with an army to claim the crown. (He did.)