In this dark Elizabethan tragedy, Macbeth’s famous monologue encapsulates the whole process of human motivations and drive:
“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life ’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
This has been one of the most significant passages occupying the whole nature of human ambition and the cyclical process of human actions in the overall play of complexities, ending up to nothing.
Even with his seething and unfettered political ambitions, Macbeth has been through epiphanies and realizations but unfortunately it does not hold him back from the dark pit he had already fallen into. The brief tragedy is a quick study into the greater dungeons of hell within a human character. The dualities of every aspect of human analysis along with the greater and underlying weaknesses to the commitment of crime have been shown through Macbeth’s character.
Yet Macbeth can also be shown as a victim of supernatural conspiracy unto the traps of which a weak mind would be led into. This is one of the classic examples of a tragic self fulfilling prophecy but a road that is blinded by dark crimes with the constant failure of humane qualities and rationale in the face of the unfettered call to power.
Lady Macbeth, though shown as one of the female temptress forces in Macbeth’s life, just like an addition to the supernatural powers, is only another pawn used by the web of crucial of the crime plan. She is yet another typographical player whose own belied ambitions get fanned with the prophetic visions. She has been used as one of the pawns who plants the seeds and tills the land for Macbeth, for making the crime fruitful.
But she too swoops down the path of guilt and self loathe, not being able to come out of the blinded crimes that she had led her husband to.
“Out, damn’d spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then
’tis time to do’t.—Hell is murky.—Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and
afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our
pow’r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to
have had so much blood in him?”
With her sleep walking and constant guilt invariably leading her to madness and suicide, she comes out to be the weaker of the two conspirators.
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