his sleeve to convince us of Macbeth's greatness. One of these I hope to discuss in a subsequent chapter. But (here lies the crux) how could he make us sympathise with him-make us, sitting or standing in the Globe Theatre some time (say) in the year 1610, feel that Macbeth was even such a man as you or I? He was a murderer, and a murderer for his private profit -a combination which does not appeal to most of us, to unlock the flood-gates of sympathy or (I hope) as striking home upon any private and pardonable frailty. The Chronicle does, indeed, allow just one loop-hole for pardon. It hints that Duncan, nominating his boy to succeed him, thereby cut off Macbeth from a reasonable hope of the crown, which he thereupon (and not until then) by process of murder usurped, having," says Holinshed, quarrell so to do (as he took the mater)." a juste Did Shakespeare use that one hint, enlarge that loop-hole? He did not. The more we study Shakespeare as an artist, the more we must worship the splendid audacity of what he did, just here, in this play of Macbeth. Instead of using a paltry chance to condone Macbeth's guilt, he seized on it and plunged it threefold deeper, so that it might verily the multitudinous seas incarnadine. Think of it: He made this man, a sworn soldier, murder Duncan, his liege-lord. He made this man, a host, murder Duncan, a guest within his gates. He made this man, strong and hale, murder Duncan, old, weak, asleep and defenceless. He made this man commit murder for nothing but his own advancement. He made this man murder Duncan, who had steadily advanced him hitherto, who had never been aught but trustful, and who (that no detail of reproach might be wanting) had that very night, as he retired, sent, in most kindly thought, the gift of a diamond to his hostess. To sum up instead of extenuating Macbeth's criminality, Shakespeare doubles and redoubles it. Deliberately this magnificent artist locks every door on condonation, plunges the guilt deep as hell, and then-tucks up his sleeves. There was once another man, called John Milton, a Cambridge man of Christ's College; and, as most of us know, he once thought of rewriting this very story of Macbeth. The evidence that he thought of it-the entry in Milton's handwriting-may be examined in the library of Trinity College, Cambridge. Milton did not eventually write a play on the story of Macbeth. Eventually he preferred to write an epic upon the Fall of Man, and of that poem critics have been found to say that Satan, enemy of mankind," is in fact the hero and the personage that most claims our sympathy. Now (still bearing in mind how the subject of Macbeth attracted Milton) let us open Paradise Lost at Book IV. upon the soliloquy of Satan, which between lines 32-113 admittedly holds the clou of the poem: O! thou that, with surpassing glory crown'd Still thinking of Shakespeare and of Milton-of Satan and of Macbeth-let us ponder every line: but especially these: Lifted up so high, I 'sdain'd subjection, and thought one step higher And yet more especially this : Farewell, remorse ! All good to me is lost : CHAPTER II MACBETH II The criminal hero-Hallucination-What is witchcraft?-Dr. Johnson on the witches in Macbeth-" Evil, be thou my good"-The use of darkness and its suggestions in Shakespeare's tragedies-Schiller and Schlegel-Vagueness of the witches—“ A deed without a name "-Deliberate enfeebling of all characters, save in the two protagonists-The critical word in this drama-The knocking at the gate. (1) WE left off upon the question, How could it lie within the compass even of Shakespeare, masterworkman though he was and lord of all noble persuasive language, to make a tragic hero of this Macbeth-traitor to his king, murderer of his sleeping guest, breaker of most sacred trust, ingrate, selfseeker, false kinsman, perjured soldier? Why, it is sin of this quality that in Hamlet, for example, outlaws the guilty wretch beyond range of pardon-our pardon, if not God's. Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole. Why, so did Macbeth upon Duncan's. wretch himself on his knees: Forgive me my foul murder? That cannot be ; since I am still possess'd Of those effects for which I did the murder. . Hear the Why, so was Macbeth again. O bosom black as death! O limèd soul, that, struggling to be free, How could Shakespeare make his audience feel pity or terror for such a man? Not for the deed, not for Duncan; but for Macbeth, doer of the deed; how make them sympathise, saying inwardly, " There, but for the grace of God, might you go, or I"? He could, by majesty of diction, make them feel that Macbeth was somehow a great man: and this he did. He could conciliate their sympathy at the start by presenting Macbeth as a brave and victorious soldier and this he did. He could show him drawn to the deed, against will and conscience, by persuasion of another, a woman: and this though it is extremely dangerous, since all submission of will forfeits something of manliness, lying apparently on the side of cowardice, and ever so little of cowardice forfeits sympathy-this, too, Shakespeare did. He could trace the desperate act to ambition, "last infirmity of noble minds": and this again he did. All these artifices, and more, Shakespeare used. But yet are they artifices and little more. They do not begin— they do not pretend to surmount the main difficulty which I have indicated, How of such a criminal to make a hero? Shakespeare did it: solutum est agendo. How? There is (I suppose) only one possible way. It is to make our hero-supposed great, supposed brave, |