Word: vag
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...play, you mean? Oh, fine," Vag mumbled. "Sorry to burst in on you like this--Say, who are you, anyhow...
...What! Oh, I'm just Vag." O, treachery! Fly, Vag, fly, fly, fly. Avaunt ye. Tis he--cruel murderer of innocent men and children. But was this perfectly normal, mild young man the bloody tyrant who had dinned Shakespeare's powerful, tragic lines into the ears of the sceptical and untutored younger generation for the last three hours? who had boomed it and shouted it over their wisecracks and embarrassed titterings until he finally wooed their interest by pure lung power? Once wooed, Shakespeare's own magic had a chance to function, and had won the evening. But how could...
...mean you're really Macbeth?" Vag queried with new interest...
...Lady Macbeth, maybe?" Vag joshed...
Along in the dressing-room, Vag picked up the be-horned helmet and put it on his head. Then he walked over to the mirror and adjusted a bushy moustache under his nose. As an afterthought he added red eyebrows, which, he noted, beetled just right. Macbeth stared at himself a moment and then began to roar out the soliloquy...