Lady Macbeth Be Careful What You Wish For Analysis

Be Careful What You Wish For

In Macbeths castle. Lady Macbeths quarters. She stands at the window. She holds a letter a small cross as she ponders through thoughts.

Lady Macbeth: (Filled with arrogance, almost boastful) You spirits, who kindly bestowed on me the blessing of direst cruelty. The access and passage to remorse is seeped dry of the river that once blindly flowed. Thane of Cawdor is soon to be to be king hereafter , the proceedings have been set in stone. (Slowed speech, analyzing words) For anything that is not set in stone can be tampered with. (arrogant) Spirits I do not thank you for your blessings, as the river of remorse also bred humble gratitude.

The formalities of goodness once clothed in the ignorance of youth is now

Murder!' To allow the rightful to be appointed power, then I shall be the one who rips the cry from the watchman's throat. As I, Lady Macbeth, am I not my futile husband, I shall continue to call upon the spirits, who bless the layer of ice over heated heart, giving me the power to create power.

The weakness will cower before power, as warmth cowers before cool. The wax of the candle crawls into the darkness, fear impeding its vision. The milk of women is as weak as wax. It cannot stand tall yet crumbles before the presence of true men. The wax seeps to the floor in agony, crying streams of heated blood, as its very existence is engulfed by the darkness which rules over it.

(Brush letter with hands. Stare at it) The prophecies that I gazed upon, provided by husbands ladled (Sarcastically) yet eligible letter shows the power blessed upon us . The mention of Banquo's destination, a man of many kings, does not invoke fear to my heart yet wisdom. Wisdom that he must be presented the opportunity to overthrow the kingdom that will be so tightly in our grasp. My husband, must know the threat he imposes upon my kingdom. (Serious tone) Banquo must be rightly placed under the stone he'll call home, worms gnawing the rotting flesh from his bone. (Malicious tone) They'll weave throughout the artistic pattern the daggers illustrate, unweaving the woven flesh showcasing the feministic frame he was built upon. They do this as the must, for a man who is

Deep in thought) The days where loving my own babe is now passed, however, the memories pasteurized in my mind. Her innocence and beauty shaped her very need for a motherly figure. Her naïve joy resonated from her, infectious to any in hearing proximity. I, her mother, role model and queen, held her against my breasts with a love unexplored by any man. (slowed speech. Remembering real task but still thinking of daughter) The mothers love I felt… no. It must not be. The coldness of heart is the blessing I ask for and must illustrate. I must not remember these simple womanly emotions, or the turmoil of mind will place a self-drawn dagger between my own breasts . (aggressive) I must pray harder; spirits why do you not listen! I command you to transform me now! I say, unsex me ! Remove the passage of remorse! I tell you, yield before my commands as I am the powerful. (Each word screamed with slight pause) I. Am.