English 20-1 Macbeth by William Shakespeare

Act I, Scene i

An open place Thunder and lightning Enter three WITCHES

FIRST WITCH When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning or in rain? SECOND WITCH When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won. THIRD WITCH That will be ere the set of sun. FIRST WITCH Where the place? SECOND WITCH Upon the heath. THIRD WITCH There to meet with Macbeth. FIRST WITCH I come, Graymalkin. SECOND WITCH Paddock calls. THIRD WITCH Anon.

One of the most important motifs woven into Macbeth is the element of time. Often, for example, we are cued to think about time in the way that we would ordinarily think about it—as an apparently linear movement forward from the past through the present and into the future, its moments marked by simple causes and their easily predictable effects. But we also find, from time to time (so to speak), that time seems to become vaguely distorted, almost dreamlike, as if one's usual apprehension of it is being somehow confused, and there is some lurking question about whether certain events are happening now, have already happened, or have yet to happen. And we may add to the time motif the related motif of fate, which is often touched on in the play. Indeed, the first word—"when"—is a word that implies awareness of time and fate. When the witches—who, incidentally, are often identified as representations of the Three Fates of Greek mythology (the Moirae—Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos)—ask "when" and assert "when" in three of the four opening lines, they suggest the notion of destiny, of conditions that will (not may) be fulfilled. Note that the First Witch does not ask if their coven will meet again, but when they will meet (and it is important to see, incidentally, that the question itself implies the possibility of choosing—the concept of choice standing in opposition to the concept of fate). As well, the Second Witch speaks not in doubt about what is to come, but in certainty—not if the hurlyburly should end, not if the battle shall be lost or won, but when the moment will come to pass. And the Third Witch lets her sisters (and us) know that she has a pretty clear idea of how much time that will take. It will be concluded "ere the set of sun"—before the light goes out on the moment that makes up this day. What's most important to note here, however, in terms of foreseeing fate, is that there is nothing especially mystical or impressive about these "predictions" that the witches make. Indeed their "prophecies" might just as well be called likelihoods. As time goes by, keep an eye on these sisters. Just how magical or prophetic are they?

"ere" = before

"heath" = an area of wasteland—rocky terrain with poor growing soil (a relatively lifeless place, which is well suited to the witches, who are dedicated to ruin and death)

"Graymalkin" = a common name for a cat, and the cat commonly a familiar—an animal form believed to be taken on by a devil and found in the company of a witch. When the First Witch says "I come, Graymalkin," we are to understand that she hears (but we cannot hear) her devilish master summoning her.

"Paddock" = a toad. As the First Witch obeys the summons of her cat familiar, the Second Witch heeds the call of her toad familiar.

"Anon" = at once; soon. The single word "anon" is often used as an abbreviation for a statement such as I'll be there right away. The familiar or, perhaps, invisible demon that the Third Witch says she will presently attend is unknown to us. And it is this element of the unknown that adds a deeper sense of eeriness and unease to an already eerie, uneasy opening to the play. Also, the fact that it is the third item in a series, and that item being an unknown, is consistent with other situations later in the play in which two elements or pieces of information are supplied and a third unknown (or unexpected) element is then added. Indeed, the condition of threes (3 being traditionally considered a potently magical number) is itself a motif in the play. As you wade into this play, watch for groups of three appearing in phrases, structures, actions, and character sets. Incidentally, note also an idea suggested in the three witches' responses to those who apparently command them. It is in the fact that the witches can be commanded. We will have cause to return later to this bedrock idea—namely the idea that evil (and good, for that matter) does not control us. We control it.

ALL Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air. Exeunt

… A general note about the poetry of Macbeth Most of the text in most Elizabethan plays is composed in verse—that is, in poetic lines rather than in prose. Prose (ordinary conversational language) does appear in many texts and for different reasons (and it does occur in Macbeth), but the better part of the plays' language is verse. And the verse form most commonly used is called blank verse. The technical term for blank verse is iambic pentameter, a concept that you may have encountered in previous studies of Shakespeare specifically or of poetry generally. And we will consider it in more detail over the course of reading Macbeth. For the moment, however, you need note only that iambic pentameter refers to a verse line sounded in ten syllables—the ten syllables divided into five measures (rhythmic units)—the measures (most of them) called iambs, an iamb being a lightly stressed sound followed by a strongly stressed sound (dee DUM—as in words like prevent, recall, and approve or in word groups like a bird in flight, the clouds grew dark, and you must be brave). From Macbeth, we can draw hundreds of blank-verse lines—for example:

So foul and fair a day I have not seen So FOUL / and FAIR / a DAY / I HAVE / not SEEN (five strong stresses, all in iambs)

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men Your FACE, / my THANE, / is AS / a BOOK / where MEN (five strong stresses, all in iambs) Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell AN-gels / are BRIGHT / STILL, though / the BRIGHT- / est FELL (five strong stresses, mostly in iambs, and still considered blank verse)

But in Macbeth we find a key alteration to the rule of blank verse, this being in the lines of the witches (also referred to as the weird sisters). Their lines (with some exceptions, which we will comment on later) are written in a form called trochaic tetrameter—lines sounded with four strong stresses (rather than the five sounded in pentameter lines) and in which the rhythmic unit, called a trochee, consists of a strongly stressed sound followed by a lightly stressed sound (DUM dee—as in words like yellow, pattern, and wrinkle or in word groups like bring them beer and pretzels, said the large to little, and can't you just be patient). In Act I, Scene i of Macbeth, we hear lines in trochaic tetrameter:

When shall we three meet again WHEN shall / WE three / MEET a- / GAIN (four strong stresses, mostly in trochees) In thunder, lightning, or in rain In / THUN-der, / LIGHT-ning, / OR in / RAIN (four strong stresses, mostly in trochees)

When the hurlyburly's done WHEN the / HUR-ly / BUR-ly's / DONE (four strong stresses, mostly in trochees)

When the battle's lost and won WHEN the / BAT-tle's / LOST and / WON (four strong stresses, mostly in trochees)

That the witches' lines are decidedly different from other characters' lines—and especially that their rhythmic ground, the trochee (DUM dee), is the exact opposite of the iamb (dee DUM)—sets them immediately at odds with "normal" characters. Their speech, having a jingly singsong or "spell-casting" quality (enhanced also by the fact that most of their lines are in rhyming couplets), makes them seem somehow otherworldly, as though they were photographic negatives of natural humans—the kind of beings to whom foulness (such as treason, trickery, and murder) would seem fair, and fairness (such as loyalty, honesty, and love) would seem foul.

…

"Fair is foul, and foul is fair: / Hover through the fog and filthy air." Here we have what might be called the controlling paradox (and chiasmus) of Macbeth. It is the witches' expression of their perception of the world. They are beings bent on sowing evil. Therefore all that appears "fair" to good people is "foul" to the witches and vice versa. Paradoxes generally are also motivic in the play, being evident in many lines and conditions. Especially important is the fact that the phrasing of this paradox—"fair is foul, and foul is fair"—is one that speaks of two conditions being held in polar contrast to each other and being equally weighted—as in good paired with evil, light with dark, confusion with order, life with death. We can speak of the play's expressions of equally weighted opposites as the even-handedness motif (the adjective is taken from a later speech by Macbeth himself, in which he refers to "even-handed justice"), and the image it bespeaks is the scales of justice, which some of you will recall from The Merchant of Venice. As well, the phrase stands as a kind of thesis for the play (that is, if we were to think of Macbeth as an essay) and a general caution to we of the world. It is a compactly rhythmic expression of the age-old theme (some would say the most common, even inescapable, theme in the literatures of all times and cultures) that things are not always as they seem. The caution implied in this idea is that throughout our lives we must constantly be wary and alert, not taken in by the deceptions and illusions of the world, willing always to peer deeply into objects and circumstances in order to know with certainty what is true and good, what is false and bad. And while distinguishing between the fairs and fouls of experience is hard enough to begin with, it is made even harder, Shakespeare suggests, by the foggy, filthy airs of life that obscure our vision—when the light is made dark. With this in mind, then, we should always have candles at hand.