As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites,
To countenance this horror! Ring the bell.
Bell rings. Enter Lady.
Lady M. What's the business, 88
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!
Macd. O gentle lady!
'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak;
The repetition in a woman's ear 92
Would murder as it fell.
Enter Banquo.
O Banquo! Banquo!
Our royal master's murder'd!
Lady M. Woe, alas!
What! in our house?
Ban. Too cruel anywhere.
Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, 96
And say it is not so.
Enter Macbeth and Lennox.
Macb. Had I but died an hour before this chance,
I had liv'd a blessed time; for, from this instant,
There's nothing serious in mortality: 100
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.
Enter Malcolm and Donalbain.
Don. What is amiss?
Macb. You are, and do not know 't:
86 sprites: spirits
87 countenance: behold (?), be in keeping with (?)
100 mortality: mortal life
101 toys: trivialities
102 lees: dregs
103 vault; cf. n.
