The Butcher and His Fiend-Like Queen

Co-Destruction in Shakespeare’s Scottish Play

Two blood covered hands were raised up in the dim light as Macbeth walked unsteadily from the chambers of Duncan. “This is a sorry sight,” he says to his wife. A few minutes later, after discussion and debate, Lady Macbeth goes into the chamber and then also emerges, having placed the bloody daggers in the hands of King Duncan’s guards. “My hands are of your colour; but I shame, To wear a heart so white” (2.2). Lady Macbeth, it seems, is ashamed to not have participated more fully in the murder of Duncan; in fact, she had said previously that she only failed to kill him because he reminded her of her own father. Nevertheless, she is co-guilty of this murder. She and her husband have pursued the inverse of what man and woman are called to in marriage. Rather than co-create, as man and woman are meant to do, they have shared in co-destruction. Instead of being a means to sanctification, their marriage has become a means to their own damnation.

Lady Macbeth Seizing the Daggers, Henry Fuseli, 1812. Public Domain.

This idea of co-destruction unfolded in my mind as I watched the performance of Macbeth at a local theater (which happens to be co-founded by a married couple). And upon running into my cousin and his fiancée at intermission, I introduced this idea of Macbeth being alienated from his manhood and Lady Macbeth seeking to separate herself from her womanhood. While Lady Macbeth’s desire to give up all that makes her a woman is clear in her well-known “unsex me” speech, one has to look a little closer to see the destruction of authentic manhood in the character of Macbeth.

In In Defense of Purity, Dietrich von Hildebrand reminds us that, “Every genuine love contains two fundamental elements which may be termed respectively intentio unitiva (will to unity) and [intentio] benevolentia (desire for the good of the beloved)” (p. 76). At the beginning of the play, we see Macbeth and Lady Macbeth united, but the “good” that they desire, reigning as king and queen of Scotland, is not the correct good for them to seek since there is already a rightful king. The basis of their unity and their desire for good is twisted by their lust for power—Macbeth is not satisfied with the smaller realm which has been given to him to rule. He misapplies what St. Edith Stein calls man’s “original God-given vocation to be master of the created world” (Essays on Woman, p. 69). Over the course of the play, he rejects his other original calling to fatherhood, which is the call to protect and promote the good of the innocent and vulnerable, by murdering or seeking to murder three different fathers and their children.

To Catch the Nearest Way

When the play opens, we learn that Macbeth, on behalf of King Duncan of Scotland, has followed the call God has given him as a man to be “master of the created world” by defeating a rebel. Macbeth is properly serving his king, bringing order to Scotland in the role that has been given to him. A few scenes later, when he is thanked by his king and promoted to be the Thane of Cawdor, the seat the rebel previously occupied, he speaks rightly about how a loyal subject out to act.

The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part
Is to receive our duties; and our duties
Are to your throne and state children and servants,
Which do but what they should, by doing every thing
Safe toward your love and honour. (1.4)

So far, so good, for Macbeth. Except for one thing. At this point, he has already met the three witches. One of their promises has already been fulfilled in Macbeth being given the title “Thane of Cawdor.” Now a desire is growing in his heart for the other promised position: kingship of Scotland. Yet, Duncan and Duncan’s sons stand between Macbeth and the throne.

Edith Stein explains further that while man is called to be master, his nature is limited, and, as he has fallen into sin, his rule over the world has become degenerated. Furthermore, there is dysfunction between man and woman. Stein tells us that while “originally, the care regarding procreation was charged to them jointly,” their “relations with their children” have also become “degenerate” (p. 71).

Shakespeare also seems to have this insight, one that is obvious with a simple glance at history, as his historical plays and tragedies are full of lords vying with each other for thrones. As he wrote in Richard II, “Let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings” (3.2). We learn in the scene following Macbeth’s meeting with the king that Macbeth has sent to his lady the seed of his desire to become king in a letter. In it, we see their shared desired for “greatness,” one that has been clearly discussed between them before:

This have I thought good to deliver
thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou
mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being
ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it
to thy heart, and farewell. (1.5)

Lady Macbeth, delighted with this idea immediately begins to plot “to catch the nearest way” to the throne. Moments later, on learning of King Duncan’s imminent stay in her castle, Lady Macbeth conceives the plan for his murder. In the following scene, she gives birth to her idea, forcing it on her husband, taking care of the details and sending him into the chamber of the king where the co-destruction takes place.

Unsex Me Here

The disfunction between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth has led to their refusal of their respective calls to paternity and maternity. They misdirect their call to co-create, fighting and conquering without submitting themselves to God and His Will, stepping outside the realm of virtuous human acts into acts not proper to humans.

Lady Macbeth’s desire to undo her womanhood is rooted in “anti-mother” tendencies. “To be a mother; to feel maternally, means to turn especially to the helpless, to incline lovingly and helpfully to every small and weak thin upon the earth,” writes Gertrud von le Fort (The Eternal Woman, p. 98). But Lady Macbeth turns aside from this call. She curses her breasts and seeks to not have womanly feelings of compassion. She tells her husband that when she became a mother in her first marriage, she would have been able to have taken the smiling, nursing child at her breast and “dash'd the brains out” (1.7). Alice von Hildebrand wrote, “The very soul of a woman is meant to be maternal. Once this sublime calling has been trampled upon, such women become “unsexed;” they are “sick unto death” (Privilege of Being a Woman, p. 96). Lady Macbeth, through her unsexing of herself, does indeed become sick unto death, as the remorse that she shoves into her unconsciousness in her waking hours at the beginning of the plot rises to the surface in her sleep at the end of the play.

Macbeth, while ultimately seeking to have more power, puts up a brief resistance to his wife’s urging to act against his manhood. At her urging to murder the king, Macbeth speaks to her, “I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none” (1.7). For a moment, we see his conscience wrestling, recognizing that certain actions are truly human and those who step outside those acts, who act without virtue, are no longer acting as humans. But, his wife, in her rage against her own call to maternity, pushes her husband to seek power that is not rightfully his and deny his own call to paternity, which includes protecting innocent life.

Thus, Macbeth, rather than become a father with the help of his wife, destroys a father and then blames the innocent son. This is where we see him, with his bloodied hands, and then Lady Macbeth beside him, sharing in the co-destruction. From there, any semblance of unity between Macbeth and his wife is gone, and his powers of destruction only increase.

A Fruitless Crown

While Macbeth now has the throne, he now lives in fear of losing it. He begins to act on his own, without the help of his wife. The witches did not promise him that his own children would reign, and, furthermore, he has no children. They did promise, however, that his companion Banquo’s descendants would be kings. Macbeth, after murdering a guest in his house, turns his eyes to a friend (one who may suspect Macbeth’s guilt) and his friend’s children:

They hail'd him father to a line of kings:
Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown,
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand,
No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so,
For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind;
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd;
Put rancours in the vessel of my peace
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel
Given to the common enemy of man,
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings!
Rather than so, come fate into the list. (3.1)

Macbeth, without consulting his wife, plots the death of Banquo and his son. Yet, while his wife only feels guilty in her sleep, Macbeth experiences guilt with his waking eyes, seeing the ghost of Banquo at a banquet. His plot to wipe out Banquo’s line is foiled by the son’s escape, but Macbeth cannot rest easy after his acts and continues to descend into the depth of vice.

On fearing the loss of his throne, Macbeth returns to the three witches, who tell him three things: 1) “beware Macduff,” 2) “none of woman born shall harm Macbeth,” and 3) “Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill shall come against him” (4.1). While he reasons with himself that it seems that no one can harm him and that he will never be vanquished since a wood cannot move, he decides to take precautions. On hearing that Macduff has fled to England (we learn later that it is to bring help to overthrow Macbeth), Macbeth decides immediately:

The castle of Macduff I will surprise;
Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool;
This deed I'll do before this purpose cool. (4.1)

Though the witches have noticed “by the twitching of [their] thumbs” that Macbeth is wicked, there is still some human depth to him. He cannot throw off his manhood entirely—he knows it is wrong to kill Macduff’s family and must do it quickly before he loses his resolve. From then on, his only thought is for himself, having lost all sense of co-creating or of self-gift. His rule has been one of a tyrant, as opposed to a ruler who gives generously to his people.

Shakespeare contrasts Macbeth with St. Edward the Confessor, at whose court Malcom, son of Duncan is in exile and safety. Edward does not appear on stage, but is spoken of by a doctor who tells that when sick people come to the English king “at his touch—such sanctity hath heaven given his hand—They presently amend” (4.3)

In this same scene, Macduff learns of Macbeth’s murder of his wife and children. The expression of sorrow on Macduff’s was the most heart wrenching moment in the whole of the production I saw.  Malcom, the rightful king, while comforting him, urges Macduff onto revenge, saying “Dispute it like a man.”

And Macduff replies, with a true sense of paternity and manhood:

I shall do so;
But I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on,
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
They were all struck for thee! naught that I am,
Not for their own demerits, but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them now! (4.3)

Macduff, who left his family vulnerable, perhaps trusting that a king and ruler would not destroy innocent persons, returns to Scotland with Malcom. They seek to put an end to the inhuman tyranny, and the co-destruction of the what Malcom calls the “butcher and his fiend-like queen” (5.7). The end is satisfying for the viewer, who sees Lady Macbeth, lose her mind and then hears of her taking her life off stage. And Macduff is the one to bring justice to Scotland by finishing off Macbeth.

The themes of failed paternity and failed maternity and the evils of co-destruction are not foreign to us in our modern time. They are as known to us as our own sins. Have not we all failed to care for a vulnerable person in need? Do not our government leaders fail to protect the most vulnerable in our society, especially the unborn children, who are “untimely ripp'd” from their mother’s wombs? But unlike in the case of the birth of Macduff, it is not done to save the life of the child, but at the will of the mother who will not bear her child to term. And where is the father, who took part in the co-creation of this murdered babe? This week as both of our major political parties refuse to ban the evil of abortion from the federal level and states passed amendments to allow the murder of babies and the “unsexing” of children without parental consent, we all should take another look at Macbeth and the horrors that can result when men and women co-destroy instead of co-create.