The Drama of Shakespeare’s England

A Writing Guide For Students

 

Todd Pettigrew, Ph.D.

Cape Breton University

Note from the author: Although this material should be useful to any undergraduate student taking courses in early modern drama, it has been prepared specifically for students in my classes at Cape Breton University. Other students at other institutions should ensure that their written assignments meet the expectations of their particular instructors.

Students or professors who have suggestions for improving this guide are encouraged to email me at

todd_pettigrew[at]capebretonu.ca

Contents

Introduction

Part I: The Play as Text

Part II: Beyond the Literal; Beyond the Narrative

Part III: Using Evidence

Part IV: Putting it all Together

Appendices: Building a Challenging Thesis and Tools of the Trade

 

Introduction

This guide is designed to help students head off the more common problems they encounter as they analyse and write about the drama of Elizabethan and Jacobean England. The aim here is to help with the process of thinking through the essay; this electronic booklet is not meant to be a guide to grammar and style, nor does it deal with basic writing issues such as thesis formulation or paragraph structure. The focus here is on thought and argument.

Students, not surprisingly, often have trouble working out strong lines of argument when dealing with early modern plays. The subject matter is, after all, difficult, and the culture is, for the most part, remote. But while these two things might seem to make the subject unappealing, they are largely what make the subject matter interesting. Because the plays are difficult, it is all the more rewarding when they start to become clear. Because the world they inhabit is distant, it is all the more exciting to journey there and get some sense of how men and women of a distant age thought and felt and lived.

This booklet is divided into five sections. The first three deal with basic issues in analysis, with special emphasis on using evidence; the fourth provides an example of a skillful student analysis to give you a sense of what the principles you’ve been reading about look like in an actual essay. Additionally, an appendix is included which provides a quick guide to additional reference material that you will find useful to have on hand as you move through the writing process.

The examples of analysis given within the text (as opposed to the sample essay) are invented, but approximate the kinds of problems many students have. Examples of faulty passages are marked with an asterisk (*) to remind you that they demonstrate things to be avoided, not imitated.

Many of the examples and references are to Shakespeare, but the points apply equally well to any dramatist from the period. Of course the reverse is true as well: examples from Marlowe or Kyd illustrate strategies equally relevant to Shakespeare. Much of the advice may be familiar to you and will thus be useful review. Other points may be new and will take some reflection and practice to apply.

Finally, I would like to thank all those students who have, through their struggle to find meaning in what can be arcane texts, provided me with the material for this guide, so that future students may suffer just a little less. I especially wish to thank Tammy Byrne for generously allowing me to reproduce her exemplary work as a model in this guide

Back to Contents

Part I

The Play as a Text

Of fundamental importance to the understanding of any literary text is the simple fact that the text is invented. It is made up. It is created by an artist for an audience, and functions on a logic of its own. The events in any literary text should not be treated as though they were historical events that actually took place.

For this reason, your analysis of plays by Shakespeare and his contemporaries must treat the events in the text as fictional happenings, manipulated by the author. You should not – to labour the point – treat them as though they were events in the real world.

For one thing, in the real world, real people faced with a decision have any number of options and have the ability (we normally assume) to choose among them. Literary characters, by contrast, are distinctly not real in this respect, lacking human choice since they are, remember, characters in an invented text.

Similarly, we know from experience that in the real world, few outcomes emerge from necessity. That is, things generally do not have to work out the way they do. For example, suppose you have a difficult test coming up and you’re not sure you will pass. Maybe you call up your friend to help you study and you pass; or, you decide not to worry about the test, go out and get drunk instead, and you fail. The point is, your passing or failing is not predetermined: it results from your particular choices; things would have worked out differently had you acted differently. But notice that the same cannot be said for plays. The outcome of the play is determined by the author, and so it is fruitless to speculate how things in the play might have turned out if certain characters had behaved differently.

Consider the following:

* Friar Laurence tries to help Romeo and Juliet but he screws up the whole thing and causes the tragedy. If Friar Laurence had not interfered, Romeo and Juliet would not have died and the play would have been a comedy.

The assertion in the second sentence is fallacious because it makes two false assumptions. First it assumes that Laurence is free to act as he chooses – which he is not, because he’s not a real person. Laurence acts as he does because he is subject to the artistic choices of the author. The second faulty assumption at work here is that the author is not in control of the movement of the plot and that one change in the action (Laurence not interfering) would inevitably set another course of events in motion. In the case of Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare could have written a play in which Laurence does not interfere ( or without Friar Laurence altogether) and still have made it a tragedy by manipulating any number of events as he saw fit.

Now, contrast the earlier fallacious assertions with the following:

Shakespeare emphasizes Laurence’s interest in medicine to criticize a common occurrence in his own time: priests practising medicine. By showing the tragic consequences of this medical practice, Shakespeare implies that priests should stick to religious matters exclusively.

This assertion deals with the same idea, that it is through Laurence’s plan that the tragedy moves forward, but shows an understanding that the character is a creation of the author and that the author portrays the character in a certain way in order to make a certain point. The second assertion treats Romeo and Juliet as a text, an invented fiction, rather than as a record of real events.

I am not suggesting that you should never discuss the way the plot is set up in the play. And of course, in most cases, the audience expects the plot to move in a logical way – plots that fail to make sense may rightly be critiqued on that basis. Nevertheless, your consideration of plot must always show an understanding that the story is in the hands of the author.

Back to Contents

Part II

Beyond the literal; beyond the narrative

Early modern plays can be viewed from a number of perspectives, but here we will deal with two basic views. First, we can understand the plays as dramatic poetry, much as we would a piece of lyric poetry such as a sonnet; second, we can view the plays as works of narrative fiction, similar, in a certain, sense, to a novel.

If we take the first view, and consider a play, or a section of the play, as essentially a poem, it is vital that we look beyond the literal sense of what is being said by the characters. Put another way, you should analyse a passage in terms of its thematic importance rather than its denotative meaning. As an illustration, consider another passage from Romeo and Juliet:

But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!

Arise fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief

That thou her made art far more fair than she.

It is tempting for many students to simply paraphrase such a passage, rather than analyse it. Consider the following attempt:

*I think what Romeo is saying here is that Juliet is very attractive and that he is already totally in love with her. He compares her to the sun which shows how he feels.

The above passage is insufficient because it deals with the passage only on the literal level, relating only "what Romeo is saying," instead of asking deeper questions. Rather than simply recount what the passage says, you should assume your reader can grasp the basic sense, and deal instead with how the passage creates its meaning. Contrast the previous example with the more analytical one below:

Romeo’s comparison, in which he equates Juliet with the sun, expresses his love for her, but his choice of metaphor reveals as much about him as it does about her. That Romeo, perhaps unwittingly, introduces death into the comparison by asking Juliet to "kill the envious moon" demonstrates how quickly excessive passion can lead to ruin. This is only one way in which Shakespeare explores the need for moderation in romantic relationships.

The analysis given in this second passage is much better since it deals with the way in which the passage is constructed, paying attention to textual detail and thematic interest, rather than simply paraphrasing the content. Don’t just ask what is being said; ask how the meaning is created.

If you are viewing the play on the level of the narrative, a similar strategy applies. Don’t concentrate on what happens in the play; consider instead why the play is set up the way it is. In other words, rather than think of the play in terms of simple plot, think in terms of structure.

Notice how the following passage has very little to interest the reader since it only deals with narrative events that the reader should be able to understand anyway:

*Iago is a very evil character. He cleverly convinces everyone to do what he wants, and no one realizes until it is too late. He tricks everyone and controls their lives until the very end of the play.

But notice how the following passage is different because it proceeds from a larger, less obvious perspective:

Though Iago is held up as the ultimate evil villain, what is most striking is how little harm he actually does. What makes Iago sinister is not the evil acts that he commits, but the way in which he brings out the evil in other characters. Virtually every fault in every other character, Othello’s rage, Roderigo’s desire, Cassio’s drunkenness, Desdemona’s naivete, and Emilia’s submissiveness, is developed by Iago. In short, Iago is not so much an evil character as a conduit for other people’s evil.

The above passage is better because it comments not so much on what happens in the play, but rather on how we should understand what happens.

Back to contents

Part III

Using evidence

No matter how interesting your thesis, no matter how inventive your argumentation, your writing will only be as good as the evidence you provide. There are essentially three kinds of evidence: material you draw from the text itself, material you draw from secondary sources, and material you take from primary documents.

A. Citing evidence from the play

Ultimately, you are writing about a play or group of plays and so textual evidence from the plays is the most basic, and the most important kind of evidence you will need to cite.

Any interpretive point you make about the play should be supportable, and supported, by textual example. The importance of this point cannot be overstated. For anything you say about the meaning of the play, you should be able to point to a specific place in the text which illustrates what you’re saying. Not only that, your writing should make it clear how the passage you’re citing demonstrates the point you’re making.

Generally, your rule should be to quote often, but quote sparingly. In other words, provide quotations to illustrate each of your points, but quote no more than you need to make the point. A short phrase is often enough, sometimes a single word. From time to time you will need to quote a more lengthy passage, but even then, quote only what you need. Never use lengthy quotations to fill space. Rarely should you have more than one indented quotation on any given page.

Sometimes, particularly when you are dealing with plot points, you do not need to actually quote a passage, you may simply refer to a specific incident, or paraphrase what a character says rather than quote. Fine. You are still using evidence – but notice that you still need to provide citations to show your reader where exactly to find the relevant material.

Read the following passage and note the variety of ways evidence is used:

At first glance, Marlowe’s Faustus seems devoid of the energetic mix of sex and spiritual violence that gives both Tamburlaine and Edward II their strange appeal. But surely Faustus’ relationship with magic itself is largely a sexual union. Faustus describes his interest in necromany as "desires" (1.52), the product of "mine own fantasy" (1.103) and tops it off by telling Valdes and Cornelius that magic has "ravished" him (1.110). Faustus’ actual use of magic is likewise sexualized: when he is asked to produce Alexander the Great, he includes in the spectacle Alexander’s paramour as well (Scene 9). Finally, Faustus’ damnation is cemented by his sexual union with the spirit in the form of Helen of Troy in which the early images linking magic and sex are literalized in the play’s most famous lines:

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,

And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?

Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss:

Her lips suck forth my soul, see where it flies! (12.80-84)

In the above passage, numerous pieces of evidence are provided, but by a combination of paraphrase and selective quoting (key words from scene 1), referring to specific events (the conjuring of Alexander), and quoting in full important lines (the passage from scene twelve), the point is made convincingly.

B. Using secondary sources

Secondary sources are any works that are relevant to the play you are analysing, but that have been written in a period subsequent to the period of the play’s composition. They are to be distinguished from primary sources, contemporary documents, which I will discuss later.

The most commonly used secondary sources for the analysis of plays by Elizabethan and Jacobean authors are scholarly articles and books written about those plays. It is best to use articles and books that are the recent work of professional scholars and that are published by academic presses and scholarly journals. Material published in such sources has been carefully reviewed by other experts in the field and has been approved for publication only after those experts have deemed it sufficiently thoughtful, original, and rigorous.

You should avoid extensive use of materials privately published by amateur scholars (as one often finds on the internet), material in an encyclopaedia or textbook (the material tends to be too vague and lacks analysis), and materials printed as study aids for students such as Coles Notes, Cliff Notes, and their equivalents (which tend to be too low-level for scholarly purposes as well). Finally, and for the same reasons, do not rely heavily on material produced for the general reading public (e.g. The Friendly Shakespeare, After Dinner Shakespeare).

Keep in mind that the purpose of using secondary material is not to replace your own thought in a paper. Instead, you should use secondary material to develop your own arguments. There are at least four distinct ways.

I. The Critic as Authority

The first way is to quote a critic who agrees with your view to show that your perspective has support from respected scholars. In this way, the critic becomes a trusted authority on the subject.

This use of secondary material is most useful for citing historical authorities to establish a historical point, especially when you do not have the time to discuss the historical point at length.  Thus, for example, if your discussion of Timon of Athens depended on the notion that early modern puritans put emphasis on the prudent use of wealth, you might cite an historian who says so, rather than finding early seventeenth century puritan writings on wealth.

Be cautious when using literary critics as authorities: in so doing, you are not only pointing out that you are not the only to have had the idea, you risk looking as though you arrived at this idea by reading some other critic.

II. The Critic as Starting Point

The second way to use criticism is to take an argument from a critic and extend it in some useful way. For example, a critic might make a point about Jonson’s The Alchemist which you believe applies equally well to Shakespeare’s The Tempest. The original author may not have mentioned The Tempest in her essay, but you choose to acknowledge her good point and extend it to another play. Similarly, the critic may make a general point, but you do the work of drawing out the specifics. This use of criticism is better than the first, because while you are drawing an idea from another source, you are giving credit and adding your own ideas.

III. The Critic as Contrary View

Still another way to use criticism is to consider an analysis by another scholar and to respectfully present a contrary position. This method is the strongest of the three because in arguing for your position, you show how some others have held what you take to be a less tenable position, thus demonstrating the need for your own view.

When contradicting other scholars it is vital to remember the principle of charity. A charitable reading has two aspects. First, it represents the position to be opposed as strongly and fairly as possible. To make the opponent’s view seem weaker than it deserves is to engage in the straw man fallacy: setting up a weak position so it is easy to knock down. Second, a charitable reading should not disparage the holder of the contrary view. Another critic may draw, in your view, a questionable conclusion, but you should, nevertheless, demonstrate respect for the critic and his abilities.

Observing the principle of charity is not only good scholarly etiquette, it strengthens your own argument. By giving the opposing argument its due, your own refutation seems all the more significant. Further, by maintaining decorum, you enhance your credibility with the reader.

IV. Theory

Many literary scholars write not about particular works in general, but about on the nature of criticism itself. Not what specific works mean, or how particular plays function, but rather, how should criticism itself proceed? How do literary texts in general function? What are important questions to ask?

Such speculations are not critical, but rather theoretical. Theory, of course, provides plenty of opportunity for criticism. One can take a given theoretical approach, as delineated by a theorist, and apply that perspective to the play in question. For example, one well known theoretical school is feminism. You might, in your analysis, provide a feminist reading of a play, drawing any one of numerous feminist theorists.

For many undergraduates, contemporary theory is difficult, particularly if they have not studied it in theory classes. If you wish to pursue a theoretical reading, you may want to discuss the matter in detail with your instructor.

C. Using primary documents

Primary documents are texts that were current during the period in which the author lived and worked – or in the years shortly before or shortly after. In the case of Elizabethan and Jacobean drama we can look approximately in the century from 1540-1640. Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy (1621) is, for our purposes, contemporary with Shakespeare, but Dryden’s writings (late 17th C) are not. Notice that in some cases, texts from an earlier period may have been known and read in early modern times and can thus be considered contemporary documents. An obvious example is the Bible (though consider carefully which translation you choose), but classical texts fall under this heading as well. The ancient physician Galen, for example, was widely known and read in the early modern period, so a sixteenth century edition of Galen’s works can be considered a viable primary source.

One fairly straightforward way to use primary sources is what is often termed source criticism. In this type of research, you track down the author’s source for the play, comparing and contrasting the original with the play. Most early modern plays have identified sources and most are readily available. The key to source criticism is not to merely catalogue differences and similarities. Instead, you want to explain why those similarities and differences are relevant to your reading of the play. If Shakespeare changed an important detail, you might ask why. If Marlowe held fast to a seemingly trivial point, you might likewise ask why.

Similarly, other artistic documents from the period can provide interesting primary evidence. Shakespeare, Marlowe, and Jonson are all well known, but considerable work from other playwrights of the period are available. Other plays by other authors may provide useful points for comparison. Notice that other plays by the same playwright are not usually considered primary documents, and if you're instructor asks you to write an analysis of Hamlet using primary sources, Othello likely isn't going to cut it, though Bacon's essay "Of Revenge," probably would.  Moreover, comparing a well-known playwright or play to a lesser known author or play is generally more enlightening and impressive than comparing two well-known authors or works.  If you are writing about magic in Macbeth, for example, a comparison to Marlowe's Doctor Faustus is fine, but a comparison to The Witch of Edmonton or Grim the Collier might be better.  (See Appendix)

Non-artistic primary documents can also provide clues to the way that people thought and felt about issues relevant to the literary texts you are writing about. Thus an essay about Shakespeare’s representation of medicine could be informed by the numerous contemporary texts about health and medical practice. Here again, don’t take the easy way out. Don’t simply note, to take another example, that revenge was an issue in Elizabethan England and so Kyd wrote a revenge tragedy. Ask instead, how revenge was understood, what different ways were available, and how does Kyd’s play interact with those culturally available conceptions. How is the play in dialogue with the surrounding culture?

When citing primary material, it is always best to read the original documents (in facsimile or modern editions) as fully as possible. While quoting material that you have found only in a quotation by another scholar is sometimes necessary, reading the original documents yourself helps give you the full context and range of meaning in the original. Moreover, if the assignment in question specifically requires the use of primary sources, simply pulling primary quotations from secondary sources (as when a modern critic quotes an Elizabethan document) will not normally be sufficient. Don’t let other critics do your primary research for you.

Back to contents

Part IV

Putting it all Together

While no essay is perfect, this paper, by a real student, demonstrates sound structure and argumentation. The formatting of the essay does not correspond to normal requirements, so you should not use this paper as a model for the setup on the page. Instead, focus on the way the paper is written.

As you read the essay, take note of its many strong points. Note especially that a thesis is carefully presented and argued throughout – the author does not wander off into other topics or fill space with idle ramblings. Notice too how several secondary and primary sources are woven into the analysis, not replacing the author’s ideas, but providing a catalyst for those ideas. Notice finally that the case ultimately rests on evidence from the play which is provided amply but also selectively.

Additionally, as you read, click on the links within the text for further notes on what the author is doing and why it is effective.

 

The Role of Witchcraft and Prophecy in Macbeth

In the first act of Macbeth, Shakespeare’s audience is privy to a sight which is both "foul and fair" (1.3.36) and as "strangely borne" (3.6.3) as the deeds which follow it, as the playwright introduces the three "weird sisters" (1.3.30) amid the thunder and lightning of the very heavens which revolt against their presence. To Shakespeare’s twenty-first century audience such characters are often perceived as either the "uncanny emblems of Macbeth’s psychological condition" (Greenblatt 787-88) or as agents of influence which hold a minimal amount of control over Macbeth’s actions and are, thus, inferior when compared to the dominating, determined and infamous Lady Macbeth whom A. C. Bradley suggests is "perhaps the most awe-inspiring figure that Shakespeare drew" (336). However, it seems to me that if the witches are interpreted in either of the above ways one is brought to the obvious conclusion that they are, as Bradley proposes, "an influence and nothing more" (315) on Macbeth, and that the bulk of the blame for the usurper’s destruction must rest mainly on the title character, himself, or his strong-minded wife. On the contrary, I think that it is a mistake to place the majority of the blame for this tragedy on either Macbeth or his "commanding" wife (Bradley 336), for in doing so the group of "secret, black, and midnight hags" (4.1.63) who, due to widespread superstitious beliefs in Elizabethan and Jacobean England, would surely have been perceived by Shakespeare’s early seventeenth-century audience as a tangible and dangerous reality, are often underestimated and their power and influence over Macbeth is subsequently minimized. Although I will not deny the role which Lady Macbeth plays in the tragic downfall of her husband or suggest that Macbeth "is powerless to resist" (Bradley 313) the "prophecies" of the three witches, I will propose that the three hags in this play should be read as substantial, exterior influences who perform the most significant role in drawing the Thane of Glamis to his ruin, for through the deceitful employment of mischievous devices such as equivocation and prophecy these "filthy hags" (4.1.131) lure the central character to his demise and abuse what in Shakespeare’s time would have been perceived as their supernatural ability to "look into the seeds of time/ And say which grain will grow and which will not" (1.3.56-57). Thus, I will suggest that the responsibility for the evil which occurs throughout this play belongs much more largely to the three "withered" and "wild[...]attire[d] bearded women (1.3.38-44) than it does to the character of Macbeth or his wife, and that the triplet of strange sisters and their Queen play the most pivotal role in this play which both begins and ends with images and echoes of the three "instruments of darkness" (1.3.122).

First, I think it is necessary to briefly explore the widespread belief in Shakespeare’s England concerning what Reginald Scot refers to as the "cousening art" of "hagges and witches" (389) which would have undeniably been a major influence on Shakespeare’s life and work. As I have suggested above, belief in witchcraft stemmed from the extensive "superstitious credulity" that existed in Elizabethan and Jacobean England, and was by no means "limited to those who were ignorant and illiterate," for "all classes were beneath its spell from the nobles of the Court to the vagabonds" (Clark 19). As Summers points out in his introduction to the 1948 edition of The Malleus Maleficarum, which has been considered "the ultimate, irrefutable, unarguable authority" on witchcraft since its first publication in 1486 as well as one of "the most important, wisest, and weightiest books of the world" (Summers viii), "throughout the centuries witchcraft was universally held to be a dark and horrible reality; it was an ever-present, fearfully ominous menace, a thing most active, most perilous, most powerful and true" (vii). Furthermore,

        the profoundest thinkers, the acutest and most liberal minds of their day,

        such men as Cardan;[...]Jean Bodin; Sir Edward Coke, ‘father of the English

        law’; Francis Bacon;[...] all these, and scores besides, were convinced of the dark

        reality of witchcraft, of the witch organization. (Summers vii)

The sheer mass of those who openly expressed a belief in witches and their dark, supernatural powers, as well as the overwhelming number of those who were accused of and prosecuted for their alleged practice of the craft, provides much insight into the witch mania of Shakespeare’s England. One example of a prominent and influential work on the subject which Shakespeare allegedly used "as material for his purposes" in the writing of Macbeth (Bradley 313) is The Discoverie of Witchcraft, a work which challenges "the cruelty of the persecution which mob-hysteria and official fatuity let loose against helpless, foolish old women who obviously had nothing to do with it [witchcraft]" (19). Written by Reginald Scot and published in the late sixteenth century this work is only one example of the many treatises on the subject that emerged during this period of immense anxiety and fear; however, it is interesting to observe the fact that, like Shakespeare in Macbeth, Scot "never denies the existence or the reality of witchcraft" (Williamson 19), but instead provides an interesting portrayal of the "women which be commonly old, lame, bleare-eied, pale, fowle, and full of wrinkles" (Scot 29).

In addition to reading Scot’s study of witches and witchcraft Shakespeare would certainly have been aware of the fact that King James I of England "was fascinated by the subject and had even written a little treatise on it – Daemonologie" (Burgess 222), which explores witches and their "unlawful conventions" (James 336) through a conversation between Philomathes and Epistemon. As Robertson Davies points out in Happy Alchemy, "sometimes people[...]forget about seventeenth-century England, and King James the First, who certainly saw this play, and for whom we may guess it was written (59). Such pieces of information, however, are surely relevant to the exploration of witchcraft perception in England, and are often used to provide insight into Shakespeare’s depiction of the hags which James I was so interested in by the first performance of Macbeth in 1606. Because Shakespeare would have undoubtedly been influenced by the superstitious beliefs of his King and his fellow citizens it is important to keep in mind the fact that, whether or not the playwright, himself, was as convinced as the great thinkers listed above in the existence of witches and their supernatural craft, common perception of the subject would certainly have affected his portrayal of the witches in Macbeth. As Wills points out in affirmation of the prevalence of witches and witchcraft in Elizabethan and Jacobean superstitious thought which Shakespeare was obviously sensitive to, "there is not a single play by Shakespeare that does not have some reference to witchcraft, some metaphor based on it, some terms associated with it in a technical sense" (35).

As I have briefly mentioned above, the witches in Macbeth are often perceived and interpreted in many different ways, with one of the most prominent interpretations being the suggestion that they are "merely symbolic representations of the unconscious or half-conscious guilt in Macbeth himself" (Bradley 313), or as Stephen Greenblatt proposes, "a kind of screen onto which he [Macbeth] projects his ‘horrible imaginings’ (1.3.137)" (787). Although this opinion is certainly an interesting one which is by no means unfounded, I think that, as Bradley points out in Shakespearean Tragedy, it is a somewhat "inadequate" (313) and "incomplete" (319) evaluation of the supernatural characters which dominate much of the action of this play, simply "because it cannot possibly be applied to all the facts" (319). If, for example, as Greenblatt suggests, the "beldams" (3.5.2) are meant to be viewed as mere emblems of the state of mind of Macbeth, then what is to be said for the character of Banquo, who is also present when the weird sisters first appear with promises of greatness not only for the Thane of Glamis, but also for him, to whom they prophesy, "Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none" (1.3.65)? If Banquo also harbors guilt and suspect motives towards the King, must the characterizations of Macbeth’s inner state also act as representatives of the inner consciousness of Banquo? I would argue that Banquo’s presence during the witches’ initial prophecies, the very predictions which stimulate Macbeth’s ambition and launch his conspiracy against the King, is one of the major limitations of this theory. The fact that Macbeth’s inner daemons can be perceived by his fellow warrior, specifically the very soldier whose future interests are directly opposed to the worthy Thane’s demonstrates one of the major flaws of such a suggestion.

Furthermore, although Banquo briefly demands to know if the witches are "fantastical or that indeed/ Which outwardly ye show" (1.3.51-52), there seems to be no substantial questioning following this amazed outburst as to whether or not the weird sisters are real or imaginary. In fact, Macbeth comments that the three hags "seemed corporal" (1.3.79) although they "melted as breath into the wind" (1.3.80), and he is seemingly fascinated more by the "weird women[‘s]" (3.1.2) supernatural ability to "ma[k]e themselves air" (1.5.4) than he is confused as to whether or not they were physically present while they delivered their prophetic messages. In this sense, the appearance of the witches is in direct contrast to the scene in which Macbeth envisages "a dagger" before his eyes with "the handle toward [his] hand" (2.1.33-34), the obviously imaginary illusion which he continually addresses as a "fatal vision" (2.1.36), "a dagger of the mind" (2.1.38), and "a false creation/ Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain" (2.1.38-39). In this scene, Shakespeare establishes the fact that the dagger is by no means a real or substantial discovery, but a delusion, whereas there is little said within the play to confirm that the witches, themselves, are figments of Macbeth’s imagination and not substantial characters.

Finally, as Bradley points out, the suggestion that the witches are mere representations of Macbeth’s mental state is "much too narrow" to encompass the majority of the prophecies which the witches deliver, for "Macbeth had evidently no suspicion of that treachery in Cawdor through which he himself became Thane; and who will suggest that he had any idea, however subconscious, about Birnam Wood or the man not born of woman?" (319). Therefore, although the witches in this play are often interpreted as mirrors of Macbeth’s guilt and personifications of his hidden ambitions, thus implying that the central character, himself, is almost wholly responsible for his own undoing, I think that there is sufficient evidence to suggest that, in its application, this rationalization of the unearthly characters which propel the play’s action forward is somewhat flawed.

A second and equally popular interpretation of the witches in this play suggests that, although the weird sisters are palpable characters and not mere illusions in the mind of the guilty Macbeth, their influence is inferior to that of Macbeth’s wife, the incomparable Lady Macbeth. Although I do not deny Lady Macbeth’s own contribution to the murder of Duncan or the effect that her bullying has on her usurping husband, I do believe that the sway which she holds over Macbeth is somewhat limited, whereas the influence of the witches appears to be boundless. This is most obvious in the fact that, as Robertson Davies indicates, the three hags "destroy" not only "the tragic hero," but "his wife as well" (59 emphasis added). Although audiences are often struck by the ambition and resolve of Lady Macbeth as she vows to "pour" her "spirits" in Macbeth’s ear (1.5.24) and deliver the Thane of Cawdor from "th’ milk of human kindness" (1.5.15) that would prevent his seizure of Duncan’s throne, many overlook the fact that she, too, is greatly influenced by the supposed prophecies of the "metaphysical aid[s]" (1.5.27). In fact, when the audience first meets Macbeth’s strong-willed wife she is reading aloud a letter which she has received from her husband concerning "the perfect’st report" of those that "have more in them than mortal knowledge" (1.5.2-3). Unlike Macbeth, who comments, "If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me without my stir" (1.3.142-43) Lady Macbeth never once entertains the idea that she and her husband should wait patiently for such an honour to alight upon them, as she immediately ponders the usurpation of the throne with the words, "Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be/ What thou art promised. Yet do I fear thy nature" (1.5.13-14). If anything, one of the witches’ greatest accomplishments can be found in the fact that they triumph not only over Macbeth with their deceitful promises for the future, but also over his wife as well, who certainly portrays the "unquenchable desire to beare the name of queen" which Holinshed refers to in his Chronicles (211).

Secondly, I think it is important to keep in mind the fact that, after the murder of Duncan, the relationship between Macbeth and his Lady quickly deteriorates whereas the newly crowned King’s connection to the three witches remains strong until the last moments of his life. In the second half of the play Macbeth appears to have no need for his once dominating wife as he excludes her from his decision to have Banquo murdered with the remark, "Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck,/ Till thou applaud the deed" (3.2.46-47), blatantly ignoring her pleas that he "leave this" (3.2.36). Moreover, while the King becomes increasingly independent from his former partner in crime even to the point where the news of her death is received with only the words, "She should have died hereafter" (5.5.16) in place of sorrow, he continues to demonstrate his unfaltering dependency on the witches as he boldly seeks them out "to know/ By the worst means the worst" (3.4.33-34). Thus, although the contribution of Lady Macbeth is important to this tragedy and should not be ignored, I think that the mischievous hags play a part in the undoing of Macbeth that is far superior to that of his wife.

As I have illustrated above, the popular interpretations of the three weird sisters as either barometers of Macbeth’s mental condition or as subordinates to the authoritative Lady Macbeth are, to a significant extent, flawed in their applications. However, I think that if we read the "supernatural" solicitors (1.3.129) as the agents of Evil which not only urge the once praise-worthy Thane towards the foul deeds which he commits against the noble Duncan and the fatal state of "security" which, as Hecate points out, "is mortals’ chiefest enemy" (3.5.33), but also as the pivotal characters who "initiate his [Macbeth’s] descent toward murder and tyranny" by "planting the idea [to kill Duncan] in his mind" (Greenblatt 787 emphasis added) we are able to establish not only a much more satisfying reading of Macbeth’s destruction, but also a reading of the witches which, I think, more closely coincides with the perception of witches and witchcraft in seventeenth-century England.

First, I think that sufficient evidence exists within the play to suggest that the witches in Macbeth are mischievous and deceitful enough to deserve the majority of the blame for Macbeth’s ruin, for they ritually employ the use of equivocation, abuse their prophetic skills and, ultimately, utilize the self-fulfilling prophecy in order to tempt the Thane to his destruction. Proof for this allegation can be found in the first scene in which Macbeth comes into contact with the witches, as they enter discussing the mischief that they plan to exact upon "a sailor’s wife" who, according to the testimony of the first witch, has committed the offence of having "had chestnuts in her lap,/ And munched, and munched, and munched," refusing to share any with the demanding vixen (1.3.3-5). For this transgression the witches vow to punish her by tormenting her husband at sea, as the first witch asserts:

        I’ll drain him dry as hay.

        Sleep shall neither night nor day

        Hang upon his penthouse lid.

        He shall live a man forbid.

        . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

        Though his barque cannot be lost,

        Yet it shall be tempest-tossed. (1.3.17-24)

It is, I think, clearly obvious that the witches in this play take much delight in the torment, suffering and misery of others for the very reason which they voice in unison in the play’s first scene: unlike ordinary, good-natured human beings who take pleasure in the good fortune of others and feel sympathetic towards others’ misfortune, the three witches believe that "fair is foul, and foul is fair" (1.1.10). In other words, what common people would consider wicked the witches consider to be favorable and vice versa. For this reason the hags "hover through the fog and filthy air" (1.1.11), "kill[...]swine" (1.3.2), save the "thumb" of a "pilot[...]/ Wrecked as homeward he did come" (1.3.26-27) and, most importantly, deliver deceitful promises of greatness to Macbeth. Because Shakespeare intentionally accounts for the above seemingly unconnected mischievous behaviors of the creatures which Banquo describes as being "so withered, and so wild in their attire,/ That [they] look not like th’inhabitants o’th’earth/ And yet are on’t" (1.3.38-40), behaviors which are recounted in the play but are not witnessed and which largely do not affect Macbeth or the plot directly, I think that it is probable to suggest that Shakespeare deliberately seeks to establish the fact that the witches, like their prophetic promises, are untrustworthy. As I have suggested above, this is a detail that would most likely have been a reinforcement of popular belief in Shakespeare’s time, for as Clark points out, "few doubted the reality and power of witchcraft" (27) and "their [the witches’] power for mischief and their cleverness in coaxing the unwary to his fall caused them to be loathed and dreaded" (26). Thus, I think the text supports the reading that the witches’ motives are suspect and that they purposefully work to bring about the downfall of the character who, at the play’s beginning, is portrayed as anything but the ignoble and tyrannical King which he is eventually reduced to by the play’s end.

As Clark also points out in Shakespeare and the Supernatural, "one aspect of witchcraft Shakespeare did lay great emphasis upon, because it was of first importance in the construction of his plot [...] was the supposed gift of prophecy" (88). Without a doubt, the witches of Macbeth thrive on and abuse what The Malleus Maleficarum refers to as the inherent ability of witches to "Divine" (81) or predict the events of the future, for throughout this tragedy the three witches under the command of Queen Hecate make mischievous use of the two distinct types of prophecies which I will refer to as the general prophecy and the self-fulfilling prophecy. Although, as far as Bacon is concerned, prophecies "ought all to be despised," the differentiation between these two types of predictions, which appears to be seemingly minor, is absolutely imperative to the exploration of the effects of the witches’ prophetic messages on the character of Macbeth. In the Oxford English Dictionary the general term "prophecy" is defined as "the foretelling of future events" or the "foreshadowing of something to come," seemingly suggesting that the prophet who delivers such a prediction plays a minor role in the destiny of the receiver, for he or she merely serves as the medium through which an already ordained fate is revealed to the mortal who cannot escape its grasp. Although I do believe that the witches exhibit an ability to see into the future, which they demonstrate primarily through the second group of predictions that I will explore in greater detail below, they often deceive Macbeth by adding the dimension of equivocation to a prophecy which is fundamentally true in order to render the prognostication more deceitful. On the other hand, a self-fulfilling prophecy is defined as "a prophecy or prediction which gives rise to actions that bring about its fulfilment" (OED emphasis added), a statement which implies that, in this instance, the prophet plays a much more integral part in the actual fate of the receiver. R. K. Merton takes this definition one step further when he writes, "the self-fulfilling prophecy is, in the beginning, a false definition of the situation evoking a new behavior which makes the originally false conception come true" (Qtd. in OED 1704). Arguably, this device is not a prophecy at all, but a lie delivered under the pretense of a prophecy, and it comes into use only once in Macbeth when the witches "prophesy" that Macbeth will become King (1.3.48), a prediction which I will also explore in further detail below.

Under the conviction that "the evil" in Macbeth is "seen at work, palpably, in the form of the Witches" (Davies 59) I think that what is most interesting about the three "filthy hags" (4.1.131), and what, more than anything else, gives them the tremendous power that they hold over Macbeth is their immense ability to choose between the two types of prophecies the one which be most effective at the given time. When the witches first encounter Macbeth, the hero of the day’s battlefield whom they have obviously been waiting for, they demonstrate this remarkable ability straightaway as they immediately begin to reel the "noble Macbeth" (1.2.65-67) into their trap and, ultimately, to his own ruin. The first witch, by calling out to the brave warrior for his attention, seeks to establish the fact that the three women recognize the man who stands before them. In order to accomplish this, and in order to gain the necessary amount of credibility that the witches need to acquire in order to execute their plan, they recognize the need to deliver to Macbeth a known truth, or an indisputable fact, which is exactly what this witch provides when she cries out, "All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis" (1.3.46). The effect of this statement on the character of Macbeth may seem trivial, but to the Thane who had simply demanded, "Speak, if you can. What are you?" (1.3.45), such a statement would surely have been met with the amazement that could only grow to the "fear" (1.3.49) which Banquo refers to moments after the witches’ final proclamation.

The second witch, in exclaiming, "All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor" (1.3.47) offers the soldier an unknown truth, for although Macbeth’s promotion to Thane of Cawdor is an advancement which has already been revealed to the audience in the previous scene where Duncan instructs Ross, "No more that Thane of Cawdor shall deceive/ Our bosom interest. Go pronounce his present death,/ And with his former title greet Macbeth" (1.2.63-65), it is, in any case, an honor which is still foreign to the unsuspecting Glamis. At the time in which the hags make this statement it seems so far fetched that Macbeth exclaims, "By Sinel’s death I know I am Thane of Glamis,/ But how of Cawdor? The Thane of Cawdor lives,/ A prosperous gentleman" (1.3.69-71); however, as Holinshed writes in his Chronicles and as Shakespeare imitates in the play, when "shortlie after, the thane of Cawder being condemned at Fores of treason against the king committed; his lands, livings, and offices were given of the kings liberalitie to Mackbeth" (211), the new Thane of Cawdor is bound, in hindsight, to view this statement as a genuine prophecy on behalf of the witches even though, under inspection, it obviously contains no prophetic quality whatsoever. Nonetheless, with this statement the witches are able to effectively convince Macbeth that they do, indeed, have insight into the events of the future, a crucial element for the temptation of the Thane to his destruction.

The third and final prophecy is, I believe, the one self-fulfilling prophecy which the third witch delivers when she calls out to Macbeth, "All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter!" (1.3.48). With this prediction the witches fulfill what Merton has suggested above is the objective of this type of prophecy as they bring forth an untrue and unfounded foretelling of the future which acts, as Blake and Mouton point out, "to cause one to misplace motivation" (Qtd. in OED 1704), ultimately bringing about actions which would not have taken place had Macbeth not been informed by the witches beforehand that he would, and moreover deserved to be, King. Hence, when Macbeth exclaims in proper disbelief to the witches’ third prediction, "to be king/ Stands not within the prospect of belief,/ No more than to be Cawdor" (1.3.71-73), it is obvious that the plan to secure Macbeth’s tragic ruin is perfectly on track, for, with the words of the weird sisters still ringing in his ears, the Thane of Glamis receives the worthy news from Ross that "for an earnest of a greater honour,/ He [Duncan] bade me from him call thee Thane of Cawdor" (1.3.101-3). At this point Macbeth, much to the delight of the three hags, makes the obvious conclusion – that if the title of Cawdor, which he once thought out of his reach, is now a reality, then the title of King is also a tangible possibility, and he utters to himself the lines which show his realization of the opportunity which has just revealed itself when he says, "Glamis, and Thane of Cawdor./ The greatest is behind" (1.3.114-15). The irony of this scene, where Macbeth is ritually reeled in by the mischievous witches, is the fact that Banquo, and not Macbeth, is the one character that portrays the ability to see past the sisters’ promises of grandeur, catching a glimpse of their deceitful ways as he warns the newly appointed Thane of Cawdor:

        ...But ‘tis strange,

        And oftentimes to win us to our harm

        the instruments of darkness tell us truths,

        Win us with honest trifles to betray’s

        In deepest consequence. (1.3.120-24)

Though the audience is only too well aware of the fact that Macbeth should heed Banquo’s warning and not so readily put his trust in the weird sisters, the Thane of Cawdor seems to take no notice of Banquo’s cautionary admonition as he utters to himself, "Two truths are told/ As happy prologues to the swelling act/ Of the imperial theme" (1.3.126-28). Thence, the irony of the fact that the character who should exert extreme caution does not, whereas the character who needs not to worry about the deceit of the hags has the sense to question the motives of the agents of darkness magnifies the accomplishments of the clever but deceptive witches. By providing Macbeth with, first, an obvious truth; second, an honor which seems like an impossible "prophecy" but is, in fact, merely a truth unknown by the Thane of Glamis; and, finally, the anticipation of a position of such prestige that it seems, at first, beyond impossibility but, shortly after, as practical and as realistic as the first truth spoken by the hags, the witches demonstrate their magnificent ability to entice Macbeth to his ruin.

The final tool which "the spirits that know/ All mortal consequences" (5.3.4-5) employ to bring about the tragedy of Macbeth is the use of equivocation to disguise their predictions. As Stephen Greenblatt points out in the play’s introduction, "equivocations are lies with mental reservations, words with double meanings, puns, twists of emphasis, and plays on false interpretations" (790), and the witches make much use of this device when Macbeth decides that he will "to the weird sisters" to find out more about his future (3.4.132). I think it is important to note that, by this point in the play, Macbeth is so convinced of the witches’ ability to see into the future and so "committed[...]to his course of evil" that "they no longer need to go and meet him; he seeks them out" (Bradley 317). In this sense, the usurping King has become a kind of prophecy-monger, in that he "occupies himself with prophecies" (OED) and is, to a significant extent, obsessed with knowing what the future holds before it comes to pass. Nevertheless, instead of directly prophesying the King’s downfall, the witches under Hecate’s command "draw him on to his confusion" (3.5.29) by conjuring three deceiving apparitions – an armed head, a bloody child, and a child crowned with a tree in his hand – each of which speaks to Macbeth. Although the first apparition gives Macbeth a reasonable warning when he cautions him to "beware Macduff,/ Beware the Thane of Fife" (4.1.87-88), it is a message which, as Macbeth points out immediately, "harp[s]" his "fear aright" (4.1.90), a response which implies that the King is already aware of the threat that the Thane of Fife poses. It is, however, the bloody child which advises Macbeth to "be bloody, bold, and resolute" (4.1.95), the advice which pushes the King to "seize upon Fife" and "give to th’edge o’th’sword/ His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls/ That trace him in his line" (4.1.167-69), the very act which undeniably fuels Macduff’s specific grudge against Macbeth and brings forth the pledge that the Thane of Fife makes when he states, "If thou beest slain and with no stroke of mine,/ My wife and children’s ghosts will haunt me still" (5.832-3). In this sense, the joint effort of the first two apparitions convinces Macbeth that he must "crown" the thoughts which they place in his mind with the "acts" (4.1.165) that they ambiguously suggest.

Next, the second apparition works specifically to disarm any fear that Macbeth may harbor as it notifies the King that "none of woman born/ Shall harm Macbeth" (4.1.96-97). This is an obviously equivocated prediction, for although the witches must have the ability to foretell the future in order to realize the fact that Macbeth will be conquered by Macduff, who "was from his mother’s womb/ Untimely ripped" (5.10.15-16) and, thus, not technically "born" in the sense of being naturally brought forth into the world via the birth canal, they work specifically to disarm the fear induced by the previous apparition. By delivering this deceitful promise to Macbeth, the witches work to ensure that the King will become so self-confident in his position that he will be killed by his greatest enemy and, when combined with the third apparition, which also works to secure the King’s confidence by promising, "Macbeth shall never vanquished be until/ Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill/ Shall come against him" (4.1.108-10), an apparently impossible suggestion, the three sisters prove themselves to be masters of equivocation. By conjuring spirits which twist the fundamentally true statements that they deliver to the King, making them appear to be advantageous when they are, in fact, prophecies of his demise, the witches give Macbeth false hope in his success and, with the final apparition of "Banquo’s issue" (4.1.118) of Kings, supply him with the perfect combination of confidence and anger necessary for his continued reign of terror. Thus, when Macbeth declares, "Sweet bodements, good!" (4.1.112), obviously delighted in his seemingly good fortune, it is clear that, through their use of equivocation, the "juggling fiends" (5.10.19) have yet again rendered Macbeth deluded and, hence, rendered themselves the masters of deceit in this play.

Throughout The Tragedy of Macbeth the three hags portray an adept ability to deceive the character who, though Thane of Glamis at the play’s beginning, seeks to become King due to the mischievous tampering of the triplet of witches. Dealing Macbeth with the perfect combination of genuine prophecy, self-fulfilling prophecy and equivocation, the weird sisters propel the character of Macbeth and the action of the play forward to its tragic end, and although it is often suggested that they serve as mere reflections of Macbeth’s suppressed ambition and subconscious guilt, or that, even if they are "real" characters, their influence is inferior to that of Lady Macbeth, I think that the witches of this play are far more mischievous, deceitful and influential than they are often given credit for.

Back to contents

Appendix A

Taking A Challenging Position

No literary essay can be more interesting than the position for which it argues. Nevertheless, many students find it difficult to devise a line of argument that challenges and engages the reader. One way to build such an argument is to begin with a straightforward statement about a topic and develop it into a position that might surprise readers and pique their interest.

Suppose, for example, that this is your topic: "Discuss the role of Horatio in Hamlet."

In thinking through this topic, you might begin with a simple description of what you observe in the play:

 Horatio is a friend to Hamlet.

That statement in itself has very little critical value because it states the obvious.  But it's a place to start. To move towards something better, you may try adding some detail:

Horatio is a loyal and trustworthy friend to Hamlet.

A little better, but still a statement of the obvious. To improve, consider how what you've said relates to the rest of the play:

Horatio, unlike the other characters in the play, is loyal and trustworthy.

Getting better, but still fairly descriptive. To get a good thesis, ask the question, why and answer it by addressing an important theme in the play.

By emphasizing Horatio’s loyalty amid so much betrayal and dishonesty, Shakespeare suggests that virtue, though difficult, is always possible.

That statement is much stronger than any of previous statements we've looked at because it gives the reader something to think about and, potentially, to disagree with.

Another way to find a strong thesis is to take your straightforward, obvious statement and argue the opposite. Consider the surprising but tenable position derived in this progression:

Horatio is a loyal and trustworthy friend to Hamlet.

Horatio seems like a loyal friend, but his silence in crucial moments is as much a betrayal of Hamlet as anyone’s.

In Horatio, Hamlet has its most subtle and profound villain, and the play uses this supposed friend to demonstrate that no one in power is ever safe from betrayal.

The key is always to argue for a position that seems, at first, difficult to maintain so that the reader wants to be convinced.

Appendix B

Some Tools of the Trade

The following is a short list of basic research tools that will be of value to you. The list is not exhaustive; if you can’t find something ask a librarian or your instructor.

A. The Oxford English Dictionary (OED)

The OED is the most comprehensive and authoritative dictionary of the English language.

While most large dictionaries list the words in common contemporary usage, the OED lists every word known to have existed in English. Thus words that were common in the sixteenth century but have gone out of usage (e.g. "bootless") can be looked up in the OED.

Moreover, the OED records not only what contemporary words now mean, but what they once meant and when those meanings became common. Thus one learns in the OED that "probable" did not mean "likely" in Shakespeare’s time, but rather meant "plausible."

B. The Short Title Catalogue (STC)

Pollard and Redgrave’s Short Title Catalogue lists every book known to have been printed in English in the period. They are listed alphabetically by author.

This text is useful when you know that a given author from the period has written on a given subject, but you need the title of his or her books. Some of these texts may then turn out to be available online, some in modern editions. If you have the name and STC number of a text that you absolutely must see and cannot find it, tell your instructor – it may be available on microfilm.

Additionally, one can use the STC to gauge roughly how popular a book was in the period but seeing how many printings the book went through.

C. Index to Characters in English Drama

Berger and Bradford’s Index provides a comprehensive summary of characters that appear in all known plays from the period. The characters are indexed in a number of ways to allow for a variety of research perspectives.

The Index is particularly useful if you intend to do comparative analysis of different kinds of characters. Say for example, you want to compare Shakespeare’s representation of Shylock with other playwright’s representations of Jewish characters in their plays. You simply look up "Jew" in the index, and find a list of about forty plays that have Jewish characters in them, including Christopher Marlowe’s Jew of Malta.

If you wish to consult the Index, check your library or see if your instructor has a copy.

D. Internet Resources for the Study of Early Modern Drama

Click here for a list of Primary Sources Online.

Click here for a list of Secondary Sources Online.

Back to contents