Macduff (cont.)
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites,
To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.
Exeunt Macbeth and Lennox .; Bell rings.
Lady Macbeth
What’s the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!
Macduff
O gentle lady,
’Tis not for you to hear what I can speak:
The repetition, in a woman’s ear,
Would murder as it fell.
Lady Macbeth
Woe, alas!
What, in our house?
Banquo
Too cruel any where.
Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself,
And say it is not so.
Macbeth
I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant,
There’s nothing serious in mortality:
All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.