Analysis: Gaps And Silences In Shakespeare's Macbeth

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Year 12 Term 1: Gaps and Silences: Macbeth
Overcast skies forewarned of the storm to come. The ominous and looming clouds rumbled treason, wolves howled their distress and rough winds wreaked havoc on the brittle branches of the oak trees in Birnam Wood, but not even this could compare to the turmoil in the Queen’s mind.
In her chambers, Lady Macbeth’s frantic, bloodshot eyes darted across the room, searching for the ghost that had haunted her for an eternity. Lady Macbeth had borne many sleepless nights after the appearance of the ghost of King Duncan, his happy and nonchalant demeanour being the root of her suffering. She would have been able to endure an angry or hateful spirit, but the honourable manner and grace in which he held himself
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Or are you a spirit who gives rise to nothing but emptiness itself. Was your death unjustifiable by satisfying the ambition of the crowning of my lord?”
She was speaking only to King Duncan. Yet, as if in answer, a phantasm of figures began gushing through the door. The line began with Banquo, followed by Lady Macduff and her children, and then a long series of men, women and children covered with deep and deadly wounds. She did not recognise them, but deep in her mind, she knew who they were - people slain by the newly crowned king. Her voice trembling, she questioned the deceased
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Lady Macbeth recoiled in fear, fear which knotted her stomach and caught her voice in her throat. Her gaunt face was a mask of pure dismay.
“Oh cruel death, are you finally here to claim me? Has my time on this cursed throne ended already? I see now, deceiving death that you are neither an angel, nor a spirit. You are the devil himself, one who taunts and dangles bait in front of greedy men and grant them treasures which cannot be treasured. Begone, foul delusion; you cannot say that I have done and what I have not, for you do not know and no-one can know.”
Lady Macbeth pushed through the horde of ghouls and bolted from her room, each person staining her clothes with blood. The resounding bang of the heavy wooden door against the solid walls of the castle sent the guard outside her bedroom jumping from shock. She sprinted through the long hallway, but there was something about her pace which shocked the men she passed by. An irregular pattern of footsteps – like that of a wounded animal. All but Lady Macbeth were oblivious to the loud pattering of footsteps which followed
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