Overview
Context
Macbeth stands within the castle walls of
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There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Performance Tips
- Avoid weeping or playing generalized sadness;
Emotional Beat Breakdown
1. The Numbness of Loss
- What shifts:
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