I n reverence to Shakespeare's genius and, after due consideration, I have prepared a statement in an effort to dispel the serious accusation that I have participated in a scandalous venture to dishonor the world's greatest poet through the misuse of my position as an honorable scribe of the King's Court. Slowed by a troublesome case of gout and the recent death of my dear wife Abigail, I only recently stumbled upon a defense to your allegation of fraud that has perplexed me more than my spinster daughter, the trial of the Earl and Countess of Somerset, and the infirmity of old age. By your leave, gentlemen: let me regress.

An ardent admirer of William Shakespeare's plays, my ambition to grace the stage was thwarted by a stubborn childhood stutter that precluded any speaking parts. My penmanship, on the other hand, was superior and I procured a steady wage as a copyist in the court of Elizabeth I. Under our beloved Queen's successor, I demonstrated my continued dedication to my craft, copying from Master Shakespeare's papers with special attention to the language, punctuation and spelling intended by the poet.

On the seventeenth of August in the year 1606, my wife delivered our fifth son. The unusual bleeding that accompanied his birth accounted for my absence at Hampton Court for the first performance of Macbeth. Shortly thereafter, I received the character's 'parts' on separate rolls and prepared the promptbook for Master Shakespeare's script. Consequently, the matter of forty lines of dialogue that, unbeknownst to me, did not grace the stage in the premier production at the King's palace, reached print in your Folio of 1623.

Today I beg you to reach into the recesses of your memory to recall the name John Cornwall, an overly-enthusiastic member of Shakespeare's esteemed company with blood ties to my beloved wife's family. Drawing upon the audience's enjoyment of the witches' scenes at the Court and, acting on his personal disappointment in being cast as a mere banquet guest, Master Cornwall created the character of Hecate for himself. In good faith, I accepted his 'part' and copied it painstakingly into Shakespeare's text with little attention to the irregularity of the witch's verse, or questioning the unexpected appearance of the Third Murderer in act three. The latter deviation was also plotted by Master Cornwall who rewarded his son with this unauthorized role in exchange for his silence.

I believe that these facts, drawn from an account by my drunken brother-in-law at my dear wife's graveside, should clear my good name and restore honor to my vocation.

And, with that, gentlemen, I bid you adieu.

Edmunde Greene

(Writing exercize: A fiction response to reassess the role of the witches in Macbeth.)