Slanders, sir. For the satirical rogue says here that old men
have gray beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes
purging thick amber and plum-tree gum, and that they have
a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams—all which,
sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe,
yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down;
for yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab you could go backward.
At its most basic level, behind the grand poetry and superb characterizations, Shakespeare shows Macbeth succumbing to the temptation of pride, the same sin as Adam. Both wanted to live without God, to lead their own lives, follow their own paths, and ignore any limits on their freedom imposed by God’s strictures.
Macbeth is a play that points to the advent, much like the turbulent last century of the Middle Ages, of a modern age gradually deracinated from its Christian grounding and increasingly enamored of a neopagan notion of virtu, of potentially infinite human achievement severed from metaphysical considerations.
Son: What is a traitor?Lady Macduff: Why, one that swears and lies.Son: And be all traitors that do so?Lady Macduff: Everyone that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged.Son: Who must hang them?Lady Macduff Why, the honest men.Son: Then the liars and swearers are fools; for there are liars and swearers enow to beat the honest men, and hang up them.
Domani, domani e domani, avanza a poco a poco, giorno dopo giorno, verso l’ultima sillaba del copione, e tutti i nostri ieri avranno illuminato a degli sciocchi la polverosa via della morte. Spegniti, spegniti, breve candela! La vita non è che un’ombra che cammina, un povero attore che si pavoneggia e si agita su un palcoscenico per il tempo a lui assegnato, e poi nulla più s’ode: è un racconto narrato da un idiota, pieno di rumori e strepiti che non significano nulla.