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,
Compares the unit of time to a unit of language, a syllable indicates that Shakespeare is developing an idea that our lives are like a script.
‘Creeps’ Presenting time as a creature that creeps a connotation that time is like a slow moving predator. It’s a paranoid idea, as if time is out to get Macbeth.
Comparing life to a candle flame emphasises it’s: transience, fragililty,
One day follows another until eternity, time cares nothing for us as it passes. Time is of no great meaning or significance.
Each day brings us closer to death, as time leads on we come closer to the end of our life span.
There is a short, trivial period of time which we have to live.
Life is told by people who are stupid filled with passion. Life is meaningless. Lady Macbeth wanted to be queen therefore Macbeth had all these intentions to help her achieve her ambition, now his meaning is gone because Lady Macbeth is dead. He is filled with despair, loss of hope for the future. He has reached this desperate time.