Lady Macbeth's Suicide Note
This is what I imagine Lady Macbeth would have written before she killed herself. This was a GCSE school project in english class and I thought I would put it on here. Please tell me what you think of it as I would like to have some idea about what my teachers might think.
***
My royal lord, dearest husband,
My love for thee shalt never die, even if mine body doth die soon. Before I shuffle off this mortal coil, I wish to confess my sins.
Duncan's death was not for us the tragedy we made out as thou knows. I feel inside a boiling up of horrors I cannot escape. I need to tell the world of what I hath done to our most noble king. When I saw the bloody, mangled body of Duncan it hit me with a force far greater than you can imagine. The aged man, so like mine own father, was dead by our hands. The image haunts me still, the feeling of remorse overpowering, a living nightmare.
Though we believed, and me thinks you still do, that the kingship would bring us glory, it is not so. Once an honoured man, now despised and hated. Men spit at thy name, babes cower in their mother's arms, the fear thou art spreading through dearest Scotland is a horror in itself. Please, I beg of you, think before you act.
I hath mine suspicions towards the death of noble Banquo. Was it you whom took his life? Did you lower yourself enough to murder your dearest friend. I believed you too full of the milk of human kindness to commit but one murder. Yet I was more wrong than I hath ever been, you art a blood thirsty monster, a demon trapped in human form.
You spoke often of the weird sisters you met on the moors. You believed in them, trusted them, maybe even in some queer way loved them. Though I know thou loveth me, I am forced to believe that they hath stolen thy heart and pulled thy soul from my grasp. You used to talk with me, tell me of your dreams yet recently you rarely speak to me, let alone look fully at me. It tortures me when I see thee in this way. I hath never loved another as I love you so why, dearest lover, do you treat me in this way?
I know thou art feeling the heavy pressures baring down on you. You two hath been sleeping poorly, hallucinating, and becoming entranced by the thoughts that hath been pushed into your mind's eye by some unknown force. You must feel bad, yet when I am seeing you power crazed and dreaming of eternal power I doubt you are in a normal frame of mind. When I am gone, remember me, think of me, and maketh sure that thou art working in honour of mine memory.
Lady Macduff and her family hath already gone, passed on. I believe they are in heaven's realm beyond the stars, though I believe it is you whom put them there. I know thou art feeling the pressures of your powers, yet why hath you done this? Why hath you taken innocent lives? Macduff was a friend, not as close as sweet Banquo, yet still a friend. Why hath you forsaken me?
Now I depart, I am leaving you here. Fairwell. If I am going down the firey pits as I think, then I will see you in hell.
Your sweet love, dearest partner in greatness.
This is what I imagine Lady Macbeth would have written before she killed herself. This was a GCSE school project in english class and I thought I would put it on here. Please tell me what you think of it as I would like to have some idea about what my teachers might think.
***
My royal lord, dearest husband,
My love for thee shalt never die, even if mine body doth die soon. Before I shuffle off this mortal coil, I wish to confess my sins.
Duncan's death was not for us the tragedy we made out as thou knows. I feel inside a boiling up of horrors I cannot escape. I need to tell the world of what I hath done to our most noble king. When I saw the bloody, mangled body of Duncan it hit me with a force far greater than you can imagine. The aged man, so like mine own father, was dead by our hands. The image haunts me still, the feeling of remorse overpowering, a living nightmare.
Though we believed, and me thinks you still do, that the kingship would bring us glory, it is not so. Once an honoured man, now despised and hated. Men spit at thy name, babes cower in their mother's arms, the fear thou art spreading through dearest Scotland is a horror in itself. Please, I beg of you, think before you act.
I hath mine suspicions towards the death of noble Banquo. Was it you whom took his life? Did you lower yourself enough to murder your dearest friend. I believed you too full of the milk of human kindness to commit but one murder. Yet I was more wrong than I hath ever been, you art a blood thirsty monster, a demon trapped in human form.
You spoke often of the weird sisters you met on the moors. You believed in them, trusted them, maybe even in some queer way loved them. Though I know thou loveth me, I am forced to believe that they hath stolen thy heart and pulled thy soul from my grasp. You used to talk with me, tell me of your dreams yet recently you rarely speak to me, let alone look fully at me. It tortures me when I see thee in this way. I hath never loved another as I love you so why, dearest lover, do you treat me in this way?
I know thou art feeling the heavy pressures baring down on you. You two hath been sleeping poorly, hallucinating, and becoming entranced by the thoughts that hath been pushed into your mind's eye by some unknown force. You must feel bad, yet when I am seeing you power crazed and dreaming of eternal power I doubt you are in a normal frame of mind. When I am gone, remember me, think of me, and maketh sure that thou art working in honour of mine memory.
Lady Macduff and her family hath already gone, passed on. I believe they are in heaven's realm beyond the stars, though I believe it is you whom put them there. I know thou art feeling the pressures of your powers, yet why hath you done this? Why hath you taken innocent lives? Macduff was a friend, not as close as sweet Banquo, yet still a friend. Why hath you forsaken me?
Now I depart, I am leaving you here. Fairwell. If I am going down the firey pits as I think, then I will see you in hell.
Your sweet love, dearest partner in greatness.