Comfort and Despair 
“Show his eyes and grieve his heart. 
Come like shadows; so depart.” 
—Shakespeare, Macbeth (4.1.125-6) 

Shakespeare’s shortest tragedy, Macbeth depicts the copious misfortunes brought about by the titular character’s decisions which are rooted in corruption and selfish ambition. Shakespeare starts his play with a virtuous depiction of Macbeth; a soldier who wants to provide for his family, shares a profound comradeship with Banquo, and has unwavering faith in his king and country. Overall, Macbeth has everything he could ever want: “I have bought/Golden opinions from all sorts of people” (1.7.35-36)—that is, until he is presented with something more desirable than anything before: the throne, the title, and the power of ruling all of Scotland. Early on, when Macbeth and Banquo meet three witches who, eager to see their next scheme through, utter a vague and semi-truthful prophecy that works like an imperative for Macbeth: “be king hereafter” (1.3.53). At this moment, a war starts within Macbeth—should he become king, and more importantly, how should he become king? Macbeth is now questioning his own thoughts and motives, torn between his duty to his country and his longing for something more. 

Just a few years prior to the staging of his Macbeth, Shakespeare wrote Sonnet 144. In this sonnet, he delves deeply into this idea of diverging principles: 

                    Two loves I have of comfort and despair, 
                    Which like two spirits do suggest me still… 
                    And, whether that my angel be turn’d fiend, 
                    Suspect I may, yet not directly tell, 
                    But being both from me both to each friend, 
                    I guess one angel in another’s hell. 
                                 Yet this shall I ne’er know, but live in doubt, 
                                 Till my bad angel fire my good one out. (Sonnet 144) 

Here the speaker talks of a disjointed state of mind that is split between “comfort” and “despair”; each equally influence the speaker in his actions—“being both from me both to each friend.” Our troubled Macbeth is facing this dilemma as well; should he be content in the comfort afforded to him as Thane of Glamis, and his new promotion to Thane of Cawdor, or is there a void within him, screaming to be filled, that cannot be ignored? As the play moves forward, each shadow speaks to the sparring voices inside Macbeth, influencing his choices and motivating his subsequent actions till they spiral out of control. 

Through our examination of Macbeth and the influences that sway him, we—the creative team and cast—came up against several questions. What is the process by which we make our decisions? The moment when Macbeth is finally determined to kill is as important as the reasoning behind it. Can anyone be either entirely evil or entirely good? Or is there, perhaps more often than not, a gray area? And if there is a spectrum of good and evil, where on it does Macbeth lie? Or Lady Macbeth? Or even Macduff? As we watch their actions unfold, we are left to wonder about our own fate. Where does each of us lie on the spectrum? As you experience Shakespeare’s Scottish play, we invite you to think about these questions in relation to our modern world. Given the bifurcated state of our country, what exactly moves us to make the decisions we make? Who dictates what is good and what is evil? Who influences us? These things must be considered deeply, or we risk the same fate as the troubled thane. 

—Rebecca Weaver, dramaturg