Trump, His Fall: When Birnam Wood Comes to Dunsinane Hill

Study for the three witches in Macbeth by Henry Fuseli, oil on canvas, circa 1782 (credit: Auckland Art Gallery / Wikimedia Commons)

(Author’s Note: This is a revised version of a post that appeared in 2019. The author believes it is especially relevant today.)

The First Apparition (“an armed Head”) warned him to beware the Thane of Fife. The Second (“a bloody child”) prophesied that none of woman born could harm him. The Third Apparition (“a child crowned, with a tree in his hand”) counseled him to assume the mettle of a lion:  

                                                          Take no care

Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are.

Macbeth shall never vanquished be, until

Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill

Shall come against him. (4.1.89-93)

From then on, his purpose became firm and clear. He seized Macduff’s castle and the dominion of Fife. To ensure the end of Macduff’s issue, he resolved to kill “his wife, his babes and all unfortunate souls / That trace him in his line” (4.2.1-87).¹

Birnam Wood Comes to Dunsinane

“Study for the Three Witches in Macbeth” by Henry Fuseli, oil on canvas. (Credit: Wikimedia Commons)

The First Apparition (“an armed Head”) warned him to beware Macduff, Thane of Fife; the Second (“a bloody Child”) prophesied that none of woman born could harm him. The Third Apparition (“a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand”) counseled him to assume the mettle of a lion:

                                                 Take no care

Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are.

Macbeth shall never vanquished be until

Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane Hill

Shall come against him (4.1.90-94).

From then on, his purpose became firm and clear. He set to “crown my thoughts with acts” by seizing Macduff’s castle and the dominion of Fife. To ensure the end of Macduff’s issue, he resolved to kill “his wife, his babes and all unfortunate souls / That trace him in his line” (4.1.148-153).[1]

“I think nothing equals Macbeth,” wrote Abraham Lincoln. “It is wonderful.”

Lincoln’s praise has stood the test of time. Hamlet may be a better play and King Lear a greater tragedy, but a special power inhabits Macbeth, which has led superstitious theater people to talk about the great play in hushed tones and to refer to its title by euphemisms such as “the Scottish play.”

Is there any other play the name of which we fear to speak?