So there's this guy, he's doing ok, won a few battles, got a few titles, you know, run of the mill success story, but he just aint happy. You know the feeling, worked all your life, barren wife, castle to maintain, English to slaughter and every one tells you that this is it, that's your lot. For man of ambition it just isnt enough, Macbeth wants and needs to get to the top.
Then one day on his way home from work ( a battle a day keeps the doctor in pay) he is accosted by a gang of old hags, hubblin and bubblin and spouting prophecies, wouldn't you know. And being the smart ambitious man he is he beleives every word, despite his mate Banquo casting some doubt on the bone fides of these hags.
So of he trots to wifey to tell her the good news. According to these old hags, all he has to do is kill the king and a couple of dozen other people and the world is his for the taking because they prophecied it would be, with only a little bit of small print too. Sweet!
As you would expect the old wife can't believe her luck, she's only invited the King over for tea and medals this evening. Cool, she says, just -screw your courage to the sticking post and the jobs a good un.
So the king rocks up, none the wiser and has his fill and off he goes to bed for some regal zz's. Maccy and the Lady slip his guards a mickey and in he goes, stab stab stab, the king is dead.
Now it is this moment that I think is the weakest in the play because it is now that Macbeth, having done for his highness Duncan, decides that perhaps trusting the witterings of three crones cooking lizard gizzards by the wayside perhaps isn't the smartest way to get ahead and that a copy of the Times job supplement might have been more his cup of tea.
Tough, says his missus, go wash you hands and remember what the crones said. Erm, something about the birnam woods reaching dunsinane castle, me only being killed by a man from the womb untimely ripped and another one i didn't quite catch. (Actually he did hear I just can't remeber it, so can't have been important. )
Well, job done, worries allayed, crown on head and all should be well for mister and missus Macbeth. But no, some killjoys decide that he cheated in gaining power and try to tell him so in no uncertain terms. And him being a warrior isn't having it, especially as he is protected by the prophecy. So, with the help of the English his detractors attack, but he don't care, he is as safe as houses. But his attackers are smart and they invent camouflage and stick the twigs from birnam woods to their clothes and march on dunsinane. Oh,no the first prophecy has come true, he might have said if Shakespeare had been any good. But what does he care, what kind of man is from his mothers womb untimely ripped? he asks waving his sabre around like a death defying madman. Me actually, says someone from the back, I was ceasearean born. Oh bugger. Stab stab. Macbeth dies, lady mac has done herself in and the moral of the story is; If he had killed the old hags none of this would have happened. Non haggis deadlium, non deadlium usted est.