Kevin Gladney

Dr. Tony Ellis

Shakespeare's Tragedies

December 17, 2009

Weird and Unnatural Influence: Agency of Macbeth's Witches in the Murder of Duncan

Among all of Shakespeare's plays, Macbeth is by far the most thoroughly invested with the

concept of the supernatural. Most prominent of the supernatural elements in the text are the “Weird

Sisters,” the three witches who open the play and appear throughout. Some, in an effort to better

understand their role in the story, have attempted to connect the Weird Sisters with greater forces of fate

and historical deities. Tracing the etymology of the word “Weird,” Laura Shamas asserts that by

applying that appellation, Shakespeare has intended to associate the Sisters with the Anglo-Saxon

concept of “The Wyrd,” which corresponds roughly to “fate,” “destiny,” “Karma,” and “synchronicity.”

Further, she asserts that by drawing this connection, Shakespeare similarly intended to associate the

Sisters with closely related mythological antecedents, “It is important to consider” she states, “that

other archetypal female trios most likely were part of the Weird sisters mythological background

related to the etymology of “weird” and the foretelling of the future. In addition to the Wyrd and the

Fates, there are the three Erinyes/Furies, the Muses and the three Graces” (Shamas, 17).

Eminent 20th century Shakespearian scholar A. C. Bradley, however, cautions against this sort of

approach. He states, with surety, “The witches...are not goddesses, or fates, or in any way whatsoever,

supernatural beings. They are old women...there is not a syllable in Macbeth to suggest that they are

anything but women, but again in accordance with the popular ideas, they have received from evil

spirits certain supernatural powers” (Bradley, 341). If we accept this assessment, we must still contend

with the nature of these women, as the scope of their power and ability to influence the action in the

play is difficult to pin down, yet nonetheless crucial. Addressing this point, Stephen Greenblatt astutely

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observes,

Within Macbeth's representation of the witches, there is profound ambiguity about the actual

significance and power of their malevolent intervention—if the strange prophesies of the Weird

Sisters had been ignored, the play seems to imply, the same set of events might have occurred

anyway, impelled entirely by the pressure of Macbeth's violent ambition and his wife's

psychological manipulation (Greenblatt, 111)

For Bradley, the issue is much less ambiguous and the witches much more innocuous. He states,

“While the influence of the witch's prophesies on Macbeth is very great, it is quite clearly shown to be

an influence and nothing more. There is no sign whatsoever in the play that Shakespeare meant the

actions of Macbeth to be forced on him by an external power, that of the witches, or of their masters, or

of Hecate. (Bradley, 343).”

While most of Bradley's exploration of Macbeth, including his understanding of the Weird

Sisters is quite well reasoned and inspired, it seems possible that he is overreaching in declaring that

“no sign whatsoever” exists that indicates that Macbeth was influenced by external forces when he

murdered Duncan. Indeed, in fitting with the theme of ambiguity that runs through so much of the

play, there is ample evidence to allow one to believe that the Sisters could have been involved in

driving Macbeth to murder, not only through their prophesies, which excited his mind to the possibility,

but also through the avenue of supernatural manipulation. There also seem to be signposts in the text

that indicate that Shakespeare has invited his readers not to close off that option.

In order to better understand the potential limits of the Sister's agency in Duncan's murder, it is

essential to endeavor to fully understand the actual limits of their supernatural powers as demonstrated

in the text. In the three scenes which will be under scrutiny, I.i, I.iii, and IV.i (III.iv, the “Hecate

scene,” is not considered here due to its questionable authenticity) the Sisters speak of and physically

demonstrate powers which point to a potential ability to supernaturally influence Macbeth's actions.

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First to be considered is the witches' relationship to and demonstrated control over the elements and the

natural world. From the very first words of the text, “Thunder and lightning, enter three witches”

(Macbeth, I.i), the Sisters are immediately connected not only with the natural world, but also with

destructive and ominous elements in nature. Shakespeare has taken care to drive this point home;

every time a scene opens upon the weird Sisters, they are heralded by a peal of thunder. This certainly

has the effect, as Bradley points out, of lending to the play a certain air of supernatural dread, but it also

suggests, especially when considered with the evidence that follows, that the Sisters are closely tied

into the natural world in a form of power relationship, meaning that the witches both derive their power

from the elements and also demonstrate control over them. Shortly, we will return to the source of the

Sister's power, but first it will be helpful to examine the direct evidence for their control over the

elements.

The Sisters are, if anything, a petty lot, and I.iii opens on them swapping stories about exacting

revenge for small transgressions. Most interesting is the story of the first witch, who, having been

denied chestnuts, declares that she will set to sea “in a sieve” (Macbeth, I.iii.9) to find and torment the

sailor-husband of the woman who denied her. For most seafarers, setting to sea in a colander, as she

appears to describe her boat, would swiftly prove problematic. If we are to take her at her word, and

we have no justification here or elsewhere for believing that the Sisters are anything but truthful

towards each other, then we must conclude that the first Sister is in possession of some supernatural

means of controlling the water and thereby preventing it from leaking into and sinking the boat.

Likewise, if we take her companions at their words, we must understand that their pledges to give her

winds necessitates control over the weather. Most directly to the point, moreover, is the first witch's

plan for tormenting the sailor once she encounters him:

Weary sev'nnights, nine times nine,

Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine.

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 Though his bark cannot be lost,

Yet it shall be tempest-tossed. (I.iii.24-7)

The weather she speaks of here, it should be noticed, is no mere sailing breeze; she describes instead a

gale-force storm, capable of rocking the boat so violently, and for so long, that the pilot will be forced

to forgo sleep, then despair and dwindle. This storm, incidentally, bears a striking resemblance to the

one affecting Scotland over the course of the play. To reiterate, the Sisters have in this scene professed

an ability to control not only the weather, but the elements at large, or, considered another way, aspects

of the natural world. Before turning to other scenes and other embodiments of the Sisters' control over

the world around them, it is worth noting in this exchange the momentary mention of a power not

attested to elsewhere in the play: that of shape shifting. Again, speaking of her plans to take out her

spite on the sailor, the first witch declares, “But in a sieve I'll thither sail / And, like a rat without a

tail, / I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do” (I.iii.9-11). If we take her “like,” as many editors do, to mean, in the

shape of, we must assume that the witches are capable of shape shifting. Though this reference is only

transitory and not repeated elsewhere in the text, we again have no reason to discount it and thus must

accord to the Sisters the rather powerful ability of transmogrification.

In IV.i, we have the good fortune to be able not only to witness a few of their powers first hand,

but also to see the mechanism by which they are achieved. This gives us the double benefit of

demonstrating that their powers are, so to speak, “real” and also, by witnessing their process, to gain

insight into the possible sources of their power. At least two distinct powers are on showcase here:

forecasting of the future, and, tellingly, the conjuration of apparitions. The fact that the witches are

here predicting the future is necessitated by the fact that the purpose of this ritual is to conjure

apparitions to speak to Macbeth. As Macbeth is seeking out the witches, and not vice versa, as before,

it follows that the Sisters must have been aware that Macbeth was coming. More on this power and its

other manifestations will follow, but first it will be enlightening to observe for a moment their method

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for creating magic.

The Sisters, it is shown to us, effect their changes on the world by creating “charms.” The

primary sense of the noun “charm,” which was available to Shakespeare, is given by the OED as:

1. The chanting or recitation of a verse supposed to possess magic power or occult influence;

incantation, enchantment; hence, any action, process, verse, sentence, word, or material thing credited

with such properties; a magic spell; a talisman, etc. One should notice that the idea of a magical charm

is intrinsically linked with the idea of speech, which itself is crucial to the Sisters' identity; their speech

patterns are thoroughly woven with the idea of incantation. Their conversation is always rhythmic,

often taking the form of rhyming couplets, and moreover, also belies a subconscious and possibly

magical connection between the Sisters, as they often speak in unison or contribute distinct pieces of a

single sentence, as if mentally connected or speaking as separate manifestations of the same entity.

The etymology of “charm” draws out this idea even further. Tracing back its history through the ME

Charme to the French of the same spelling, one arrives at the original Lain Carmen, whose primary

meaning was equivalent to “song.” The language often associated with creating magic, embodied in

words such as “incantation” or “enchantment,” recalls the action of chanting magic into an object,

which itself derives from the same Latin source. The etymology here belies the truth that the ideas of

magic and vocalization, especially rhythmic vocalization, which the Sisters constantly employ are

intrinsically linked. The seat of their ability to create magic, then, lies in their knowledge of and ability

to correctly employ proper magical incantations, and by extension, that they posses innate magical

abilities. This particular method is first demonstrated in I.iii, immediately before Macbeth arrives.

Hearing the drum announcing the encroachment of Macbeth and Banquo on their camp, the Sisters

chant, in unison:

The weird Sisters, hand in hand,

Posters of the sea and land,

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 Thus do go about, about,

Thrice to thine and thrice to mine,

And thrice again to make up nine.

Peace, the charm's wound up. (I.iii.33-8)

Here we have the Sisters, dancing in a circle, incanting to create a charm. As the OED notes, this word

refers not only to the incantation itself, but also to the product of the incantation, i.e. the magical spell.

The Sisters, then, have through this process, cast some spell. The purpose of the spell is not explicitly

laid out, but by virtue of the fact that it is cast at the coming of Macbeth, it follows that this spell must

be intended to affect him magically in some way. It is curious that the very next line that follows this

incantation is Macbeth's oft remarked upon line, “so foul and fair a day I have not seen” (I.iii.39),

which, of course, echoes the Sisters' earlier declaration, in the first scene, “fair is foul and foul is fair.”

Many readers have regarded this statement as evidence of a mental connection between Macbeth and

the Weird Sisters; though it be conjectural, one could also see this line, following so closely as it does

upon the casting of a spell by the Sisters, as evidence that they have worked some kind of influential

magic on his mind, either by having in some way implanted suggestions, (as they are about to do

verbally in earnest), or have worked some spell to make him more vulnerable or receptive to

suggestion. It should be noted here that this spell is cast, and its objectives, whatever they be, achieved

almost solely thorough the use of speech. Aside from their dancing, no other ingredients or cantrips are

used to effect this magic.

Returning to IV.i, we witness the witches casting a similar spell, though one cast by a decidedly

different process:

Round about the cauldron go;

In the poisoned entrails throw.

Toad, that under cold stone

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 Days and nights has thirty-one

Sweltered venom sleeping got,

Boil thou first in the charmed pot...

For a charm of powerful trouble,

Like a hell-broth boil and bubble...

Add thereto a tiger's chaudron

For th' ingredience of our cauldron...

Cool it with a baboon's blood,

Then the charm is firm and good. (IV.i.4-38)

In many respects, this ritual mirrors the briefer episode found in I.iii. The Sisters perform it while

dancing around in a circle, one of its main aspects is a vocalization, involving rhyming couplets and

including a refrain: “Double, double,” etc. (making this verbalization even more firmly an

“incantation”), and the process and its result are twice referred to as a “charm.” There are, however,

important and obvious differences that seem to limit the scope of the Sisters' power. Unlike with the

first spell, the spell cast around and into the cauldron is not composed only of a verbal element. As one

sees above, certain specific ingredients must be added in a specific and ritualized order. We notice that

the first witch declares that the poisoned entrails and toad (or toad's poisoned entrails, if you prefer) be

boiled in the pot first, “thereto” implies that the tiger's offal is called for at that specific place in the

recipe, and the “then” supplied by the first witch after adding baboons blood to cool the mixture,

indicates that it is called for as the final ingredient. The peculiar and rare nature of these ingredients

suggests that they themselves are imbued with some sort of magical power. We can gather from this

that to successfully cast this spell, and hence certain spells, the power of the witches to effect changes

solely though their voice alone is insufficient. It stands to reason that for certain simple actions, as may

be observed in their enchantment of Macbeth in I.iii, vocal incantation alone is sufficient to produce the

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desired effect, but certain more difficult spells, such as the conjuring of spirits, more extended and

complicated efforts are called for. One is reminded of the Sisters' earlier discussion of the sailor-

husband upon whom the first witch wishes to exact revenge. They say:

First Witch: Though his bark cannot be lost,

Yet it shall be tempest tossed.

Look what I have.

Second Witch: Show me, show me.

First Witch: Here I have a pilot's thumb,

Wracked as homeward he did come. (I.iii.25-30)

Though her meaning is cloudy and other possible interpretations could be supported, it seems likely

that one could supply “for” (i.e. yet it shall be tempest-tossed, for, look what I have). Considered this

way, it seems that the tempest that she wishes to create requires as an ingredient the thumb of a

shipwrecked sailor. This fact seems to confirm Bradley's assertion that the Sisters are nothing more

than human females imbued unnaturally with magical powers and confirms certainly that there is a

limit to what the Sisters can achieve with only incantations, and thus their own innate powers. It does

not prove, however that the powers the Sisters do possess or are capable of achieving are in any way

meager or outside the possibility, theoretically, of magically influencing Macbeth.

As the final step in this magical recipe, executed in the presence of Macbeth, the witches add

two ingredients, along with an incantation:

First witch: Pour in sow's blood that hath eaten,

Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten

From the murderer's gibbet throw

Into the flame.

All: Come high or low;

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 Thyself and office deftly show.

We find, then, that the ultimate end of this charm has been to summon these “apparitions,” which the

Sisters refer to as their masters. This proves that the Sisters are capable of summoning spirits, or at

least creating apparitions, however one chooses to regard them. We can also observe a second power at

work here, that of prediction. It appears that the sole purpose of these apparitions was to advise

Macbeth (rather badly). The sole purpose of the spell, it also appears, is to produce these apparitions.

It follows, then, that this spell was instigated at the account of Macbeth. One will remember, however,

that it is Macbeth this time who seeks out the Sisters. The witches, therefore, must have had some

foreknowledge of his coming.

One could argue that the Sisters simply accurately anticipate the arrival of Macbeth, but one

must in that case also account for the other instances in which the Sisters appear to be predicting the

future. In the case of their most prominent prediction, that Macbeth will attain the Kingship, one could

suggest, as some have, that the witches predict nothing, but rather implant the idea into Macbeth's head,

which he acts upon of his own will, yet this line of argument falls short when one considers that they

also predict accurately that Banquo's line will assume the throne. In that case, suggestion would be

irrelevant, as Banquo had no part in the process and Macbeth later comes to be anxious at the thought

of it, as it would spell the end for his reign. Also, it is insufficient to claim that the witches were able

to intuit these events through some logical means; given the place of this conversation in the plot, both

events would seen unlikely at that time. We should therefore conclude that the weird Sisters can,

through some mechanism, foresee the future. How they come by this power is a matter of speculation.

It is possible that they can, as Banquo suggests, “look into the seeds of time / and say which grain will

grow and which will not” (IV.i.61-2) but IV.i offers evidence that such might not be the case. The

scene opens with the three familiars (as related by the Sisters) announcing that a certain time has

arrived, upon which time the witches begin their ceremony. We should not consider it outside of the

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realm of possibility that the Sisters' familiars, with whom they seem capable of some form of

communication, act for them as a conduit for information, derived from some unnatural place.

Whatever its source, regardless, we should consider that the witches have available to them, at least

with regards to the main events of the story, the ability to see future events with some clarity.

One final supernatural power remains which should be accounted for in an effort to encompass

the Sisters' ability to affect the world around them. They demonstrate, on stage, that they are capable of

disappearing instantly from sight. This feat occurs twice, in both I.iii and IV.i, at the end of their

encounters with Macbeth. In stark contradiction to the other magical abilities that they demonstrate,

this action is performed without the benefit of a magical ritual, or even a spoken word at all. They

simply vanish. According to Banquo, this Sisters appear to bubble into the earth, while Macbeth sees

them melt away into the air. This action is enough by itself to suggest that the Sisters are in some cases

capable of powerful and inexplicable feats solely through and act of will.

To accurately assess the power to the weird Sisters, we should also take time to notice what the

text makes clear is not within their power and what their notable limitations appear to be. As

previously hinted at, the Sisters demonstrate a decided inability to affect inanimate objects. The first

sister's declaration of her plans to take revenge over the chestnuts denied to her, “though the bark

cannot be lost, / yet it shall be tempest-tossed,” suggests that she is capable only of affecting the natural

world around the boat, and is incapable of damaging the boat itself or its pilot. In addition to the

helmsman, the withes also seem incapable of imposing their will upon the physical bodies of other

human characters; both the woman with the chestnuts, and indeed Macbeth himself are the subject of

circuitous manipulation, but neither is in any way directly physically harmed by the Sisters.

Considering these limitations and the powers observed over the course of the play: prediction,

control over the elements, the summoning of apparitions, vanishing, and metamorphosis, can we say

that it is to any degree reasonable to posit that the Sisters are able to influence Macbeth? Nothing of

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this sort is overtly witnessed in the text beyond that which has already been discussed, so we must first

discover what agency, if any, the witches have while not on stage. From their own statements, we

know that they are capable of taking not only action, but violent action, in their world while not in the

presence of the audience. The first witch demands chestnuts, and the second kills swine, so we can be

sure that they do exist outside of the realm of Macbeth's experience and have the ability to interact with

the world while not on stage. With regards to their agency, if we are to attribute a cause to the storm

which runs throughout the play, the witches seem the most likely candidate. Both Ross and the old

man comment on its unnatural appearance, the old man claiming it to be the most dreadful and strange

time that he has witnessed in seventy years (II.iv.1-5). Ross also notes odd behavior in the sun, “by th'

clock 'tis day. / and yet dark night strangles the traveling lamp” (II.iv.8-9). Should we believe that these

odd changes in the natural world in the presence of these entities with a demonstrated ability to control

the elements is a mere coincidence in such a short and tightly packed play? While no concrete proof of

this theory can be found, there is certainly no fast reason to state with any surety that they cannot be

responsible. It seems reasonable to assume from this that, within the scope of the ambiguity and

liminality that flows through so much of the play, that the weird Sisters are perfectly capable of

asserting a supernatural influence upon events on stage while they themselves are off of it.

This brings us finally to the question of the Sisters' direct influence upon Macbeth's murder of

Duncan. Given their witnessed abilities, their likely abilities to affect the play when not present on

stage, and a professed interest in not only violence, but Macbeth's violence, I assert that it is possible

and reasonable to claim that the Sisters may be held responsible for Macbeth's vision of the bloody

dagger, which serves as the final impetus to push him over the brink to murder. First, we must consider

the possible ways that this could be achieved. On the one hand, the dagger could be an insubstantial,

yet still physical object. The production of this object seems well within the capability of the Sisters, as

we have witnessed them earlier creating similar apparitions. Considered another way, the dagger may

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indeed be a hallucination, but one ultimately engendered in Macbeth's mind by the Sisters. One is here

reminded of the first charm the Sisters cast in I.i, which seems to put Macbeth into a suggestive mood.

Also to be considered is the fact that the appearance of the dagger occurs a scant fifteen lines after a

reference to the Sisters by Banquo, a reference, moreover, to their appearing to him in a dream, itself

suggestive of mental control. While not concrete evidence in itself, it raises the question of why

Shakespeare would put a crucial supernatural event so close to a reference to our unnatural entities with

supernatural powers if he did not wish for them to be connected in the reader's mind. This evidence

taken together and compounded with both the Sisters' agency and the command to Macbeth by their

second “master” that he “be bloody, bold, and resolute” (IV.i.90), balances to a motive for and

capability of influencing Macbeth to murder Duncan by means of the bloody dagger that leads him to

Duncan's chamber.

There are, of course, problems with this interpretation. Most importantly, we do not witness the

Sisters preparing a charm to produce the dagger, nor do we hear them explicitly make a reference to

such an event. This analysis is admittedly based on conjecture over circumstantial evidence, but

ultimately does not suffer much for it, as my objective is not to assert that the witches are responsible

for the production of the dagger, but only to prove that, contrary to Bradley and others, that such an

interpretation is possible and supported by the text. Too often, the weight of tradition, in this case the

belief that Shakespeare's play is made stronger by virtue of the fact that Macbeth struggles with

consequences for which he himself is solely responsible, forces out potential readings that subtract

from his culpability. Quite on the other hand, the ambiguity that stems from the uncertainty about

Macbeth's actions and motivations serves as a great source of literary pleasure, for it is only on the

boundaries between good and evil, truth and falsehood, and Macbeth's ambition and free will versus

supernatural control and fatalism, that we find those moments that give us pause to consider the nature

of these concepts; only by comparing a thing with its opposite and examining their point of intersection

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can we fully understand them. Consider this argument on the dagger scene by R.A. Foakes:

The lines [at the end of Macbeth's soliloquy] suggest a link with the Weird Sisters, in their

reference to witchcraft and to Hecate, and mark Macbeth's awareness that he is aligning himself

with evil; but his full sense of the terrible nature of the murder he is about to do also makes the

overcoming of his own scruples, the horror he feels, of all the large part of himself that rebels

against it, so much the greater challenge. The central lines of his soliloquy register this:

Thou Marhsall'st me the way that I was going,

and such an instrument I was to use.

Mine eyes are made the fools o' th' other senses,

or else worth all the rest. (II.i.42-5)

These lines reaffirm the double nature of that image of the death of Duncan which Macbeth sees

here in the visionary dagger; his eyes are worth all the other senses insofar as they show through

this illusion what is compelling him from within. (Foakes, 17)

Foakes draws out an astute portrait of the dagger scene representing Macbeth's coming to terms with

the evil that is inside of him, surrendering to it with a certain sense that it is what he has become.

Central to this is an understanding that Macbeth believes the dagger to be a reflection of his interior

self, which is entirely accurate. This in itself is tragic enough. We see here a man who has for most of

his life served faithfully and been awarded great honors for his loyalty. He has no doubt before the

play begins given thought to higher offices and potentially to thoughts of regicide, but he has always

managed to keep them in check. Here, confronted with what he believes to be a manifestation of his

internal self, he finally and lamentably gives himself over to these urges from which he cannot

afterward pull back, and which finally lead to mental collapse. How the more tragic would it be, we

should consider, if this vision is not one summoned from the depths of his soul but instead, placed there

to tempt into damnation by the deceit of the Weird Sisters? Macbeth, left to himself, expresses great

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doubts about the propriety of killing Duncan. After his first bout of hesitation, Lady Macbeth pushes

him again resolutely to his cause, but we find him here alone again. Were it not for the vision of this

dagger, we can't know with any certainty what the outcome may have been. Perhaps, without this

supernatural guide, the sight of Duncan, to who he has hitherto remained loyal, would have shaken him

back to himself; we can't know. The dagger does appear, however, and it is awful to think that, if we

assign to the Sisters responsibility for its appearance, they, or their masters, or fate, have stripped

Macbeth of his last scrap of innocence and his last chance to return to a moral path. As tragic as it may

be, we should always leave ourselves such critical options.

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 Works Cited

Bradley, A. C.. Shakepearian Tragedy. New York: St. Martin's Press, 1904.

Foakes, R. A.. “Images of Death: Ambition in Macbeth.” Focus on Macbeth. Ed. John Russell Brown.

London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1982. 7-29.

Greenblatt, Stephen. “Shakespeare Bewitched.” New Historical Literary Study. Eds. Jeffery N. Cox

and Larry J. Reynolds. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993. 108-135.

"Oxford English Dictionary Charm, n.1". Oxford University Press. December 15, 2009

<http://dictionary.oed.com.libproxy.library.wmich.edu/cgi/entry/50036983?

query_type=word&queryword=charm&first=1&max_to_show=10&sort_

type=alpha&result_place=1&search_id=L6VT-wTdKdF-10211&hilite=50036983>.

Shakespeare, William. Macbeth. Ed. Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine. Folger Library. New York:

Washington Square Press, 1992.

Shamas, Laura. “We Three:” The Mythology of Shakespeare's Weird Sisters. New York: Peter Lang,

2007.

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