Macbeth again undergoes a change of heart in scene 4, at the announcement of Malcolm as the Prince of Cumberland and as successor to the throne of Scotland, the same throne upon which Macbeth had his eyes set upon (interesting note: the witches never said Macbeth would become King of Scotland. We'll never know what might have been). The effect of the King's proclamation on him can be seen through his reaction:
The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step
On which I must fall down, or else o'er-leap,
For in my way it lies.
Stars, hide your fires!
Let not light see my black and deep desires;
The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be
Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see
(i.4, 48-53).
Macbeth is torn between two thoughts: he does acknowledge the fact that the announcement of succession stands in his way of the "promised" throne, but his fear of what "black and deep desires" he has to become king still shines through; at this point, there is still hope for Macbeth. Again, his naivete towards the witches' predictions makes him believe that the throne is truly meant for him, and therefore these "horrible imaginings" of what he must do can all be attributed to the witches' influence, and not from the true nature of the innocent Macbeth.
Enter Lady Macbeth. Through his openness to his wife in his letter concerning the witches' predictions, we see that the Macbeths once had a friendly relationship. He trusts her, yet another quality of innocence, and this trust contributes to his downfall. It is Lady Macbeth who, in this scene, makes the first concrete threat upon Duncan's life: "O never Shall sun that morrow see!" (i.5, 59-60). In this scene the contrast between Macbeth's attitude towards his becoming King and Lady Macbeth's enthusiasm towards the complete fulfillment of the prophesies is apparent. Not only does she display the expected joy in regards to the announcement, she begins planning the murder of the King, a concept that Macbeth had already conjured up, and rejected out of fear: "My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, / Shakes so my single state of man" (i.3,139-140). Lady Macbeth's intentions are clear: she intends to play a part, a major part in the murder of Duncan. She acknowledges the good nature of Macbeth, and fears that such a personality will interfere in his ascension. She pleads to the evil spirits to "fill [her] from the crown to the toe top-full / Of direst cruelty" (i.5,39-40).
Macbeth returns to his castle to find this woman advising him how to cover up his "intentions," to play the role of the loyal servant before he commits the act "Which shall to all our nights and days to come / Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom" (i.5, 68-69). Remember, these are Lady Macbeth's chilling words; Macbeth responds only with an innocent "We will speak further" (i.5, 70).
The true Good in Macbeth makes one last attempt to keep him from the Evil needed to complete the deed. Good instills in Macbeth the fact that as his kinsman, subject and host, he is bound by duty to keep Duncan from attack, and not be the attacker himself. Furthermore, it would not only be a crime towards his morals to kill the king for his benefit, but against the people: he would be robbing the people who he defended of an excellent monarch, one who's death would bring about the pity of "heaven's cherubin." Obviously Macbeth has rid himself of all intention to end Duncan's life; he makes it clear to Lady Macbeth four lines later: "We will proceed no further in this business" (i.7,31). But Lady Macbeth is persistent, and she, her lips lined with Evil, strikes down Macbeth and the Good that remained in him. She brands him a coward, a most destructive comment to Bellona's bridegroom. And in one final, crushing blow to Macbeth's resolve, she delivers the ultimatum: "I would [...] dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this" (i.7,56-59), a sickening sign of how much she "loves" him, and if he "loved" him with equal passion, he would carry out the deed.
If by the end of act one all the Good in Macbeth is dead, its ghost haunts him before and after the deed. Hallucinations of the weapon, the bloody knife, murder silently striding towards its target, they all seem real to Macbeth, proof of his lack of control over his senses and proof that the true Macbeth, the worthy fighter, loyal servant, is no longer in control. In essence, Lady Macbeth has taken control: he is performing her will and he is feeling the feelings that she should shudder at as a murderer: "Thy very stones prate of my whereabout... Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives" (ii.1,58-61). Even after the murder, Macbeth is not the hardened criminal who may be suspected in the regicide, certainly not like his wife, who remains chillingly indifferent about the dastardly deed: "A little water clears us of this deed" (ii.2,67), she says, and it is her who must actually clean up after the act. But Macbeth is torn up over the matter: "Sleep no more! Macbeth does murder sleep" (ii.2,35-36). As weird as it sounds, the fact that he is broken up after the murder shows that he still has morals, morals that should have, and would have, if it wasn't for the actions of his wife, stopped him from carrying out the deed.
"Once a liar, always a liar" or so the saying goes, and in this situation the case is no different. Macbeth, faced with a criminal investigation, two bloody daggers and a not-so-clear conscience, must quickly make up a lie to explain away the murder of the guards, an action hastily done in the aftermath of the main event. And from there his respect and sanity spirals down and down and down until he is "Stepp'd in so far [in blood], that, should I wade no more, / Returning were as tedious a go o'er" (iii.4,137-138).
Macbeth is an example of a man from whom innocence was stolen. He was a courageous warrior, a loyal officer in the Royal military, a respected leader, and, in general, a good guy. External forces, the witches and their uninvited "supernatural soliciting," his wife and her uncontrollable passion and controlling enthusiasm over the case at hand, and Evil itself, transformed this potential, nay, existing hero into a tyrant hated by his people. Brainwashed and dominated by Evil, he responded in the only way he could: with Evil. And so falls this man, a man of integrity, a man of innocence
