40 Fandoms of Lent: Macbeth by Shakespeare
Macbeth by Shakespeare
Macbeth/Lady Macbeth
G
She had seemed demure, obedient; eyes downcast as she stood a step behind her father. He had thought that maybe he would have preferred to marry a woman with more vitality - but marriage was not about personal likes or dislikes: it was a financial contract between two families. She was 'suitable'; that was what was important.
He discovered his mistaken idea of her character only slowly. Outwardly she appeared the perfect submissive wife; but over the years it dawned on him that his own behaviour was changing - always, always driven by her. How could such a gentle-seeming woman exert such control?
By the time he met the witches, he was all too aware of the core of steel disguised by her subservient demeanour. The pale face flashed ice and fice in turn as she prodded and prompted, her ambition fuielling his, her drive forcing him on.
She pushed him too far. She broke him, and then herself, falling into madness and despair. She pushed him too far, and in doing so caused her own demise.
The cold man who looked down at her dead body was not the man she had married. He was the man she had made him.
"She should have died hereafter," he said indifferently, and turned away.
Macbeth/Lady Macbeth
G
She had seemed demure, obedient; eyes downcast as she stood a step behind her father. He had thought that maybe he would have preferred to marry a woman with more vitality - but marriage was not about personal likes or dislikes: it was a financial contract between two families. She was 'suitable'; that was what was important.
He discovered his mistaken idea of her character only slowly. Outwardly she appeared the perfect submissive wife; but over the years it dawned on him that his own behaviour was changing - always, always driven by her. How could such a gentle-seeming woman exert such control?
By the time he met the witches, he was all too aware of the core of steel disguised by her subservient demeanour. The pale face flashed ice and fice in turn as she prodded and prompted, her ambition fuielling his, her drive forcing him on.
She pushed him too far. She broke him, and then herself, falling into madness and despair. She pushed him too far, and in doing so caused her own demise.
The cold man who looked down at her dead body was not the man she had married. He was the man she had made him.
"She should have died hereafter," he said indifferently, and turned away.