"To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
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."
Shakespeare
Macbeth is on the castle walls, under siege by his enemies. A cry is heard from within the castle, and Macbeth learns that his wife has killed herself. There was a time when such a message would have chilled his heart, but at this point he is surprisingly stoic and accepting, resigned to the barren futility of life. He goes on to give one of the most famous Shakespearean speeches that begins with "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow," and continues "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." Macbeth has found his own "way to dusty death" through greed and superstition, and will soon pay the ultimate price.
From Macbeth (V, v, 19)
