Though he had performed in a number of Shakespearean productions over the years--Edgar in King Lear, various roles in multiple runs of Henry V, and more--Eregor had never been in a production of MacBeth, let alone played the title role. So it was with no small amount of anticipation and relish that he approached the part.
It was a disturbing role, but a welcome challenge. The descent of a man from victory and prosperity as a thane, entrusted with the king's heir, down through murder and paranoia into insanity was a parade of emotion and dark moods that became a delight to portray on stage. He owed a lot to Jon Granger for his direction, but also for putting his faith in Eregor not to go too far into scenery-chewing territory. Plus, his castmates were a joy to work with, as always. His final scene against Marcus as MacDuff had both actors giving it their all.
Why should I play the Roman fool and die
On mine own sword? Whiles I see lives, the gashes
Do better upon them.
MACDUFF Turn, hellhound, turn!
Of all men else I have avoided thee.
But get thee back. My soul is too much charged
With blood of thine already.
MACDUFF I have no words;
My voice is in my sword, thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out.
Thou losest labor.
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed.
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
I bear a charmèd life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.
Despair thy charm,
And let the angel whom thou still hast served
Tell thee Macduff was from his mother’s womb
Accursèd be that tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cowed my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believed
That palter with us in a double sense,
That keep the word of promise to our ear
And break it to our hope. I’ll not fight with thee.
Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o’ th’ time.
We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit
“Here may you see the tyrant.”
I will not yield
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet
And to be baited with the rabble’s curse.
Though Birnam Wood be come to Dunsinane
And thou opposed, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last. Before my body
I throw my warlike shield. Lay on, Macduff,
And damned be him that first cries “Hold! Enough!”
They exit fighting. Alarums.
To go from supreme confidence in his prophesied invincibility to shock at the realization of how wrong he was, and then defiance unto death... this was an experience in acting for which Eregor would ever be grateful.