The One Where Ross Keeps his Paws Dry
Ambition is not simply the purview of the scheming Macbeths in Shakespeare’s play. Everybody’s at it, even those who seem secondary. It could be argued that Ross, a deceptively ubiquitous character, is in an ambition category all his own. Ross represents all the Thanes of Scotland at a time where the balance of loyalty and power was in constant flux. Weak kingship had led to attack from Norway but had also inspired the willing compliance of Gaelic foot soldiers and mercenaries (‘kerns and gallowglasses’) and even betrayal from within, as evidenced by the treachery of Cawdor and Macdonwald. Scotland is so hemmed in by enemies that her own people are questioning the sovereignty of the Crown. This reflects the position of the marginalised Catholics in James’ Court who were tolerated but never trusted because of England’s religious and political instability. James was a protestant ruler, like Elizabeth before him, but increasing oppressive behaviour towards known Catholics and assassination attempts like the 9th November 1605, were making Catholic and Protestant factions feel increasingly volatile and disgruntled. In the same way that Shakespeare wanted James to seek peaceful ways to heal England’s rifts, he also wanted to warn those at Court not to pursue violent ends as the gunpowder plotters did.
Ross is a particularly vulnerable character because his loyalties are inherently divided. He is Macbeth’s man, but he is also Lady Macduff’s cousin, and he treads a careful path between the two camps in order to preserve his position at Court. A seamless politician, his first line in the play is ‘God save the King!’ but, as events unfold, it becomes clear that he is personally not too bothered which king he would prefer ‘God’ to save. He has no soliloquies to enlighten the audience directly but his frequent interaction with other players reveal that, at heart, he is on nobody’s side but his own. This makes him a shrewd and rather slippery customer.
From the early scenes it is clear that Ross is another Thane in which Duncan has misplaced his ‘absolute trust’, ‘the worthy Thane of Ross’. We become aware that Ross is observant and cannot fail to be impressed by ‘Bellona’s bridegroom’ Macbeth who, like the Captain, he heaps with compliments. After the meeting with the witches, it falls to Ross to be the harbinger of the news of that Macbeth is to succeed the disgraced Thane of Cawdor. In some ways, Ross is the catalyst for Macbeth’s ambitious awakening. While Angus stays on script, Ross appears to veer off temporarily into nebulous suggestion. Like the witches, he tempts Macbeth with ‘earnest of a greater honour’, insinuating that Cawdor’s title is merely a taste of what is to come. Duncan made no mention of such an additional honour in Scene ii and Banquo’s subsequent exclamation ‘Can the devil speak true!’ signals to the audience that Ross himself may well be in league with the Devil, speaking the ‘truth’ right in front of their astonished eyes.
Ross then retreats inconspicuously into the background until after Duncan is dead. Later, he passes the time gossiping with an Old Man he calls ‘father’ twice until, as if on cue, ‘good Macduff’ passes by. The nature of his conversation with Macduff has the effect of confirming to the audience both Macduff’s incorruptible nature and Ross’ own covert intentions. At a time when the most prudent move would be to show allegiance at the Coronation of Macbeth, Macduff confirms to Ross that he is off ‘to Fife’ to play family man. Macduff is seemingly not afraid to show his mistrust of the new king by turning his back. Ross rebuffs the snub with his intention to do the opposite and prepares to make his way to Scone. The Old Man’s last lines wishing ‘benison’ to go with him ‘and with those that would make good of bad, and friends of foes!’ rings like a warning from a father to a ‘wayward son’ not to fall prey to the temptations of ambition over morality. Tellingly, Ross does not answer him. Instead, he makes ready to comprehensively reassure Macbeth of his loyalty. If there are ‘daggers in men’s smiles’ in the newly formed Court of Macbeth, then Ross is a prime example.
In Joel Coen’s film The Tragedy of Macbeth (2022), the director hints that Ross is in fact the mysterious ‘Third Murderer’, dispatched to ensure that Banquo is 'safe', but who then finds and spares the child Fleance, squirreling the boy away for his own purposes once all the main players are dead. The final moments of the film show Ross galloping away from Dunsinane with Fleance under his arm disturbing a massive and ominous unkindness of screeching ravens in the process. This is an intriguing and plausible interpretation. Coen was perhaps suggesting that Shakespeare intended Fleance’s escape as a warning that Scotland’s troubles are not over simply because relative order has been restored and that potential treachery lurks everywhere for those who, like Duncan, succumb to complacency.
It would appear that Ross’ ambition enables him to keep his political feet dry until the time comes for him to act decisively in his own interests. Shakespeare never reveals what happens to Fleance after he escapes and may have done so on purpose to assert that, so long as men allow ambition to trump conscience in the halls of power, the threat of violent insurrection will never be far away. When Banquo ‘fails [Macbeth’s] feast’ on account of having been recently murdered, Ross is scathing of his absence suggesting a need to publicly plead his own ignorance; ‘His absence, sir, Lays blame upon his promise. When Macbeth becomes deranged at the sight of Banquo’s ghost, it is Ross who comes to Lady Macbeth’s aid as she tries to calm him and then clear the room, ‘Gentlemen rise! His highness is not well’ hinting that he might have as much to lose as the King and Queen themselves if Macbeth cannot hold his nerve. Later, he cynically soothes a frantic Lady Macduff to trust her husband, knowing that, prior to leaving for England, Macduff made no attempt whatsoever to conceal his disapproval of Macbeth’s accession before leaving her and Macduff's children to their grisly fate.
Ross’ most curious behaviour comes in Act 4 Scene v when he delays relaying the news to MacDuff about the death of his family. It is possible that, by this time, his own culpability in Macbeth’s seamier deeds, is becoming glaringly apparent. Initially, he lies and says Lady Macduff and his children were ‘well at peace when I did leave ’em’. ‘Well at peace’ suggests that they were well dead and hints that Ross may have been present at the massacre. Perhaps his decision to mislead Macduff and Malcolm initially betrays his fear at presenting his duplicitous nature to the two still living characters in the play who are collectively so virtuous they make Ronald Macdonald look like Pennywise.
Malcolm & The Waiting Room of Doom
Malcolm’s transformation in the play is as rapid as it is comprehensive. Duncan is portrayed as benevolent but weak and Malcolm, in the first instance, is shown to be a carbon copy of his father. Not much is revealed early on about Malcolm’s personal ambitions, but it is clear from the opening lines of Act 1 Scene ii that he is no fighter. He generously commends the Captain to Duncan as ‘the hardy soldier who fought ‘gainst my captivity’ implying that he needed defending against Scotland’s enemies being completely unable to protect himself. In scene iv then, it rightly enrages Macbeth to hear Duncan promise to ‘make him [Macbeth] full of growing’ and then immediately ‘establish his estate’ on his son who, not only needed bailing out in the middle of a battle, but expresses surprise at the heroism and bravery of a traitor bound for execution, ‘nothing in his life became him like the leaving it; he died as one that had been studied in his death to throw away the dearest thing he owed, as 'twere a careless trifle’. Malcolm seems astonished that Cawdor acted with such dignity in his last moments. It might have rightly outraged a seasoned fighter like Macbeth to see power being conferred on one who could not appreciate the honour of dying for one’s beliefs and that Cawdor – whilst construed a traitor by Scotland – deserved admiration rather than derision for opting to die ‘like a man’.
Similar sentiments are echoed by Macbeth in the final scenes of the play when he calls for his armour; ‘I’ll fight ‘til from my bones my flesh be hack’d!’ and valiantly cries ‘at least we’ll die with a harness on our backs!’ At the beginning of the play, Malcolm has much to learn about kingship, and, having it cruelly thrust upon him prematurely, he shows remarkable sense to flee Dunsinane at the first sign of trouble. The audience hears him conferring with his brother in the aftermath of Duncan’s murder. Both princes rightly agree to regroup in separate camps away from ‘friends’ because ‘there’s daggers in men’s smiles’. Donalbain’s sage words suggest that neither of Duncan’s heirs will take people at face-value and understand that very little may be as it at first seems. It shows that the princes are intelligent. They were listening when Duncan cries ‘There’s no art to find the mind’s construction in the face’ which foreshadows Malcolm’s transformation in the final scenes when, flanked by his mentor Macduff, he leads the English troops to victory. Fleeing may look suspicious and even craven, but to trust any of his father’s Court when he has died in their ‘double trust’ would be pure stupidity.
So Malcolm’s overt ignorance is galling and fuels Macbeth’s ambition not to have Scotland handed wholesale over to ‘the boy Malcolm’. Right or wrong, (and according to the Tanistry customs of 11th century Scotland, definitely wrong) Malcolm appears to take his elevation to Prince of Cumberland (and heir to the throne) with all the grace and cheerfulness of a son being handed the keys to a new car on his 18th birthday. Because of this, it seems likely that Shakespeare intended for Macbeth to underestimate Malcolm and Donalbain and let them get away. Ironically, in publicly announcing Malcolm’s succession, Duncan augments Scotland’s vulnerability further – essentially turning good men like Macbeth (and potentially Banquo) into traitors.
But there is another motive in Shakespeare’s bid to bait the hook of Macbeth’s ambition. It is to juxtapose the old and the new in one small and seemingly insubstantial scene. James I was new to the throne and had inherited a country full of religious division after half a century of bloated royal arrogance and entitlement. James might not have been his first choice for a fresh start, but at least he wasn’t a Tudor. Henry VII’s machinations, Henry VIII’s bloody and destructive ambition, rival households, usurpers, pretenders, battling Catholics and Protestants all jostling for supremacy and finally a Queen so terrified for her position that she refused to have a family lest it make her position even more vulnerable had left England in tatters both politically and spiritually. Now, at the dawn of a new century, at least the people might be able to look forward to a bit of calm from a king who had every reason to cleave from the policies and strictures of his predecessors.
To demonstrate this point, Shakespeare draws attention to Malcolm’s innocence and frames it in a way that suggests that he will inherit all the peace-loving qualities of his father but, given the right influences and approach, none of his inadequacies and naïvety. He does this in a measured way that is hidden from the other Thanes, and in stark contrast to Macbeth’s ruthless and maniacal race to the top, as if to suggest that there is a better way to do things than just kill everybody until nobody wants to argue with you anymore. That was the Tudor way. The House of Stuart would surely be more circumspect? So, as soon as Duncan is dead, Malcolm races off to England with his brother on his heels bound for Ireland.
Macbeth appears more insulted than fazed. Duncan was apparently such a poor king because he raised boys who would not step up when called upon to do so. Shakespeare’s purpose here is to allow time for the full horror of Macbeth’s rise to power to play out unopposed while Malcolm regroups in London with the help of a lot of very sage and sensible (and English) advisors to prepare him for the return. The net result is that, properly prepared, Malcolm returns to Scotland a very different kind of leader. Malcolm’s ambition is transformed through his desire not to repeat the mistakes his father made and restore peace and security to Scotland. As a result, whereas he might have before, he does not succumb to using power for his own ends and fail to win back his throne. For this, he owes gratitude neither to Duncan nor Macbeth but to a man who seemingly has no desire for kingship at all.
Good Macduff?
Macduff’s ambition is of a different nature. He parallels Macbeth and Banquo in terms of bravery and ability but does not suffer from their crises about personal advancement. He is the complete antithesis of Macbeth and it falls to him to foil Macbeth’s character when Banquo fails to speak out when he should have done. Like Banquo, Macduff is a father, whereas Macbeth ‘has no children’. Macduff has quite a few children (like King James) and, perhaps Shakespeare was alluding to a man’s responsibility to ensure a better world for future generations going hand in hand with a conscious decision to take part in replenishing the population himself. At this point, Shakespeare's twin son - Hamnet - had been dead for a decade. In this time, he had written a number of plays about the dynamics of grief, most notably in Twelfth Night, King John and Hamlet. The cruel loss of innocents had resulted in some of Shakespeare's keenest depictions of raw suffering in the wake of bereavement. In his achingly raw but tender receipt of the news that his entire family was gone, Macduff is the epitome of responsible, virtuous manhood of the kind that Shakespeare would have wished to see more of.
Macbeth’s lack of ‘issue’ makes him infinitely less vulnerable than Banquo and Macduff, which both men find out to their cost. The sense that the Macbeths have nothing to lose is perhaps accountable for their ambition to fill the gap left by their 'barren'-ness with any kind of impressive legacy they can muster. Certainly, Lady Macbeth might have been suffering under the weight of failing to fulfil her wifely duty. Macbeth reflects aloud his repugnance at defending Scotland for the sake of ‘Banquo’s issue’ as this ambition swiftly intertwines with his insecurity, solidifying his hamartia. His actions in slaughtering the innocent families of his former compatriots allude to Herod wiping out the first born of Bethlehem to protect his throne, enhancing Macbeth’s developing God complex and descent into paranoid insanity. That he becomes a tyrant of Bibilical proportions might be construed as a response to his frustrations at being the only ‘man’ of honour whose wife is not able to successfully reproduce.
Macduff’s downfall manifests in his radical underestimation of how far Macbeth is prepared to go to flex his power in order to protect his dubious position. He demonstrates surprising naivety when he leaves his family undefended in Scotland and Macbeth capitalises on his mistake to commit a war crime of such magnitude that apparently even regicide becomes justifiable. Just as Macbeth reasoned that Scotland needed him to stabilise, so Macduff reasons that Scotland needs Malcolm to achieve the same effect. Peaceful leader, powerful leader, peaceful leader: when the curtain falls, the circle is complete and virtue wins out – as it should. Fifty years previously, England was torn apart by a monarch in his bid to conceive a male heir and the result for his people was decades of bloodshed and religious division. James had been a King almost from birth and his claim to the English throne was indisputable. He was, so far as the people were concerned, the real deal. Yet it might have been too early in his reign to predict how diplomatic he would prove to be. England needed a stable and wise king to heal so Shakespeare places Malcolm under the instruction of ‘good Macduff’ - who’s only ambition ultimately is to save Scotland and unite the Thanes – even if it meant sacrificing his own family in the process.
Macduff provides an excellent example to James about what constitutes appropriate and measured response to adversity. When Ross tells Macduff that his family are dead, Macduff falls silent and Malcolm counsels him to ‘dispute it like a man’. Macduff is having none of that and retorts to the inexperienced prince that he must first ‘feel it like a man’. We know that Macduff will shoulder the full guilt and responsibility for underestimating his enemy and grieve for his ‘chickens and their ‘dam’ first. Once that is done, he will be lethal and, given Macbeth’s crimes, completely justified in taking his revenge.
Malcolm, deeply influenced by the lesson he learns from Macduff’s dignity and blessed with the impressionableness of youth, begins his journey to become a king worthy of the Scottish throne. With Macduff’s guidance, he learns kingship and tactical warfare, gaining the respect of an organised and united army. It is on his command that ‘every solider hew down a bough and bear’t before him’ as he prepares to lead his own troops into battle with Macduff by his side.
These scenes of comparative majesty are juxtaposed with scenes from inside Dunsinane which is in hellish chaos. Macbeth, either ranging about looking for a man ‘not of woman born’, remonstrating with his wife’s doctor’s or raging against his own people and threatening to hang them ‘from the next tree’ is all over the place as his reign of terror collapses in on itself. Symbolically, while Macbeth withers in his command, Malcolm is thriving and ‘bent up’ for victory. The imagery of trees being used on the one hand to take life and on the other to defend it signifies that the choice to do good is always present, and it is the chooser that bears the responsibility for the outcome. In this way, Malcolm already has the psychological advantage which is a message from Shakespeare about how great leadership will ultimately trump any ‘metaphysical aid’ and that he who surrounds himself with those who know more than he does, and rewards them accordingly, will become a respected and formidable leader and those who are ‘in blood stepp’d in so far’, will win only fear not favour and face their eternal damnation alone.