ing scene) proves the contrary:--

The thane of Fife had a wife; where is she now?

But she is nowhere brought before us in immediate connection with these
horrors, and we are spared any flagrant proof of her participation in
them. This may not strike us at first, but most undoubtedly has an
effect on the general bearing of the character, considered as a whole.

Another more obvious and pervading source of interest arises from that
bond of entire affection and confidence which, through the whole of this
dreadful tissue of crime and its consequences, unites Macbeth and his
wife; claiming from us an involuntary respect and sympathy, and shedding
a softening influence over the whole tragedy. Macbeth leans upon her
strength, trusts in her fidelity, and throws himself on her tenderness.

O full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!

She sustains him, calms him, soothes him--

Come on;
Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks;
Be bright and jovial 'mong your guests to-night.

The endearing epithets, the terms of fondness in which he addresses her,
and the tone of respect she invariably maintains towards him, even when
most exasperated by his vacillation of mind and his brain-sick terrors,
have, by the very force of contrast, a powerful effect on the fancy.

By these tender redeeming touches we are impressed with a feeling that
Lady Macbeth's influence over the affections of her husband, as a wife
and a woman, is at least equal to her power over him as a superior mind.
Another thing has always struck me. During the supper scene, in which
Macbeth is haunted by the spectre of the murdered Banquo, and his reason
appears unsettled by the extremity of his horror and dismay, her
indignant rebuke, her low whispered remonstrance, the sarcastic
emphasis with which she combats his sick fancies, and endeavors to
recall him to himself, have an intenseness, a severity, a bitterness,
which makes the blood creep.

LADY MACBETH.

Are you a man?

MACBETH.

Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that
Which might appall the devil.

LADY MACBETH.

O proper stuff!
This is the very painting of your fear:
This is the air-drawn dagger, which, you said,
Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts
(Impostors to true fear) wo