Excerpt from Macbeth - anthology. Shakespeare's Macbeth is a study of the evil that is in every human heart, and of one man's downfall as he wilfully gives way to its temptations. Returning from battle, Macbeth is greeted by three witches, who tell him that he will one day become king. As a reward for his military successes, he then receives the title of Thane of Cawdor from King Duncan, confirming part of the witches' prophecy. Once Macbeth arrives back at his estate, Lady Macbeth spurs her husband's ambition forward, and together they hatch a plan to kill the king and thereby hasten Macbeth's accession to the throne. In Act 2, Scene ii, Lady Macbeth is waiting while her husband carries out the murder. When he enters in disarray, the murder weapons still in his bloodstained hands, she takes it upon herself to frame Duncan's grooms for the killing, and to ensure that her husband's guilt is concealed. The Lady's purposeful activity provides a stark contrast to Macbeth's almost paralytic state as he becomes locked into an obsessive contemplation of the bloody deed. Lady Macbeth berates him for allowing such fearful imaginings to distract him, but to a 17th-century audience Macbeth's account of his inability to say "amen" to the grooms' prayer clearly illustrates the real peril of his soul. Transfixed by the horror of his crime and the power that it promises, he consciously rejects the possibility of repentance, salvation, and an eternal future for the man that he has been--he chooses to know himself no longer, but instead to "know" only the deed and the power it will bring, and so he becomes the very embodiment of his crime: the bloody, usurping tyrant. Ultimately Macbeth brings about his own downfall, deliberately yielding himself to the destiny suggested by his prophetic encounter with the witches--fleeting kingship and eternal damnation. Macbeth Act 2, Scene ii Enter Lady Macbeth LADY. That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; What hath quenched them hath given me fire.--Hark!--Peace! It was the owl that shrieked, the fatal bellman Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it. The doors are open, and the surfeited grooms Do mock their charge with snores; I have drugged their possets That death and nature do contend about them Whether they live or die. MACBETH (within). Who's there? What, ho! LADY. Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed Confounds us.--Hark!--I laid their daggers ready; He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled My father as he slept, I had done't. Enter Macbeth, carrying two bloodstained daggers My husband! MACBETH. I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? LADY. I heard the owl-scream and the cricket's cry. Did not you speak? MACBETH. When? LADY. Now. MACBETH. As I descended? LADY. Ay. MACBETH. Hark! Who lies i'the second chamber? LADY. Donalbain. MACBETH. (looks at his hands) This is a sorry sight. LADY. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. MACBETH. There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried "Murder!" That they did wake each other. I stood and heard them. But they did say their prayers and addressed them Again to sleep. LADY. There are two lodged together. MACBETH. One cried "God bless us" and "Amen" the other, As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear I could not say "Amen" When they did say "God bless us." LADY. Consider it not so deeply. MACBETH. But wherefore could not I pronounce "Amen"? I had most need of blessing, and "Amen" Stuck in my throat. LADY. These deeds must not be thought After these ways; so, it will make us mad. MACBETH. Methought I heard a voice cry, "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep--the innocent sleep, Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care, The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast." LADY. What do you mean? MACBETH. Still it cried "Sleep no more" to all the house; "Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor Shall sleep no more, Macbeth shall sleep no more." LADY. Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, You do unbend your noble strength, to think So brain-sickly of things. Go, get some water, And wash this filthy witness from your hand. Why did you bring these daggers from the place? They must lie there. Go, carry them and smear The sleepy grooms with blood. MACBETH. I'll go no more. I am afraid to think what I have done; Look on't again I dare not. LADY. Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers. The sleeping and the dead Are but as pictures. 'Tis the eye of childhood That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, For it must seem their guilt. Exit Knock within MACBETH. Whence is that knocking? How is't with me when every noise appals me? What hands are here! Ha--they pluck out mine eyes! Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather The multitudinous seas incarnadine, Making the green one red. Enter Lady Macbeth LADY. My hands are of your colour; but I shame To wear a heart so white. Knock I hear a knocking At the south entry. Retire we to our chamber. A little water clears us of this deed; How easy is it then! Your constancy Hath left you unattended. Knock Hark! more knocking. Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us And show us to be watchers. Be not lost So poorly in your thoughts. MACBETH. To know my deed 'twere best not know myself. Knock Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! Exeunt
