The play is peppered with references to the world of the theater, from the very beginning when we are seduced into a magic ritual by three characters who chant and dance around their stage. The banquet in Act III is a magnificent piece of staging, in which the director (Macbeth) is not allowed to direct as he wishes. Even the murder is an act, as distinct from the thought or intention of an act, as Lady Macbeth reminds her husband "Art thou afeard / To be the same in thine own act and valour / As thou art in desire?"
And so when we look at this man, we see an actor, directed by Fate, his wife, and himself, capable yet incapable, suffering from stage fright, yet knowing that he must go on if the play is to succeed. Looked at in this way, we begin to sympathize with Macbeth, and we suddenly recognize what is the truly great achievement of this play.
As in all good theatre, we're put on the spot just as Macbeth is: "If it were done . . . ," but will it be done? If it is done, what will be its effect? And what would we do? At the same time, while we recognize that Macbeth should not act in the way he does, we must, nevertheless, ask ourselves why his acts in that way. The answers are far from simple.
