Imatges de pÓgina
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Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do:
Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
Bal. No, my good lord.
Rom.
No matter get thee gone,
And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
[Exit BALTHASAR.
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's see for means :-O, mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,—

And hereabouts he dwells,-whom late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples; meager were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting his penury, to myself I said-
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.

O, this same thought did but fore-run my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house :
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-
What, ho! apothecary!

Ap.

Enter Apothecary.

Who calls so loud?

Rom. Come hither, man. I see, that thou art poor:
Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have
A dram of poison; such soon-speeding gear
As will disperse itself through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead;
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath
As violently, as hasty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law
Is death, to any he that utters them.

Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,
Upon thy back hangs ragged misery,
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law;
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.

Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murders in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell:
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh.-
Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar JOHN.

John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!

Enter Friar LAURENCE.

John. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting, that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
Lau. Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
John. I could not send it,-here it is again,
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection.

Lau. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
The letter was not nice, but full of charge,
Of dear import; and the neglecting it
May do much danger: Friar John, go hence;
Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
Unto my cell.

John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
Lau. Now must I to the monument alone;
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake;
She will beshrew me much, that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents;
But I will write again to Mantua,

[Exit.

And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;
Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb! [Eait.

SCENE III.-A Church-Yard; in it, a Monument
belonging to the Capulets.

Enter PARIS, and his Page, bearing flowers and a torch.
Par. Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. [aloof;-
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
Under yon yew-trees lay thee all along,
So shall no foot upon the church-yard tread,
(Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,)
But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me
As signal that thou hear'st something approach,
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone

Here in the church-yard; yet I will adventure [Retires.
Par. Sweet flower, with flowers I strew thy bridal
Sweet tomb, that in thy circuit dost contain
The perfect model of eternity;

Fair Juliet, that with angels dost remain,
Accept this latest favour at my hands;
That living honour'd thee, and, being dead,
With funeral praises do adorn thy tomb!

[bed:

[The Boy whistles. The boy gives warning, something doth approach. What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, To cross my obsequies, and true love's rites? What, with a torch!-muffle me, night, a while. [Retires.

Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR with a torch,

mattock, &c.

Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching iron.
Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
Give me the light: Upon thy life I charge thee,
Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death,
Is, partly, to behold my lady's face:

But, chiefly, to take thence from her dead finger
A precious ring; a ring, that I must use

In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone :-
But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry

Lau. This same should be the voice of friar John.-In what I further shall intend to do,

Welcome from Mantua: What says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.

By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,
And strew this hungry church-yard with thy limbs :

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Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.
Bal. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout;
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [Retires.
Rom. Thou détestable maw, thou womb of death,
Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus 1 enforce thy rotten jaws to open.

[Breaking open the door of the monument.
And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!
Par. This is that banish'd haughty Montague,
That murder'd my love's cousin ;-with which grief,
It is supposed, the fair creature died,--
And here is come to do some villanous shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.-

[Advances.

Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague;
Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death?
Condemn'd villain, I do apprehend thee:
Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.

Rom. I must, indeed; and therefore came I hither.-
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man,
Fly hence and leave me ;-think upon these gone;
Let them affright thee:-I beseech thee, youth,
Heap not another sin upon my head,
By urging me to fury :-O, be gone!
By heaven, I love thee better than myself;
For I come hither arm'd against myself:
Stay not, be gone ;-live, and hereafter say—
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
Par. I do defy thy conjurations,
And do attach thee as a felon here.

Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy. [They fight. Page. O lord! they fight: I will go call the watch. [Exit Page. Par. O, I am slain! [Falls.]-If thou be merciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [Dies.

Rom. In faith, I will:-Let me peruse this face ;Mercutio's kinsman, noble county Paris :What said my man, when my betossed soul Did not attend him as we rode? I think, He told me, Paris should have married Juliet: Said he not so ? or did I dream it so? Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, To think it was so ?-O, give me thy hand, One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave,— A grave? O, no; a lantern, slaughter'd youth, For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes This vault a feasting presence full of light. Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.

[Laying PARIS in the monument.
How oft when men are at the point of death,
Have they been merry? which their keepers call
A lightning before death: O, how may I
Call this a lightning ?-O, my love! my wife!
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there-
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what more favour can I do to thee,

Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain.
To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin!-Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe

That unsubstantial death is amorous;
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I will still stay with thee;
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again; here, here will I remain
With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest;
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.-Eyes, look your last!
Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, Ŏ you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!—
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
Here's to my love!—[Drinks.] O, true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. [Dies.
Enter, at the other end of the church-yard, Friar
LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade.

Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night Have my old feet stumbled at graves?-Who's there? Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead? [well.

Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, What torch is yond', that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyeless sculls; as I discern, It burneth in the Capel's monument.

Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, One that you love.

Fri. Bal.

Who is it?

Romeo. Fri. How long hath he been there? Bal.

Fri. Go with me to the vault.
Bal.

Full half an hour.

I dare not, sir: My master knows not, but I am gone hence; And fearfully did menace me with death, If I did stay to look on his intents.

Fri. Stay then, I'll go alone :-Fear comes upon O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. [me; Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, I dreamt my master and another fought, And that my master slew him.

Fri. Romeo!-[Advances. Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre ?— What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?

[Enters the monument. Romeo! O, pale !-Who else? what, Paris too? And steep'd in blood?-Ah, what an unkind hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance !— The lady stirs. [JULIET wakes and stirs. Jul. O, comfortable friar! where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am:-Where is my Romeo?

[Noise within. Fri. I hear some noise.-Lady, come from that nest Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep; A greater Power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents; come, come away: Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; And Paris too; come, I'll dispose of thee Among a sisterhood of holy nuns : Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; Come, go, good Juliet,-[Noise again.] I dare stay

no longer.

[Exit.

Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:

ACT

O churl! drink all; and leave no friendly drop,
To help me after?--I will kiss thy lips;
Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative.
Thy lips are warm!

V.-SCENE III.

[Kisses him.

i Watch. [Within.] Lead, boy :-Which way? Jul. Yea, noise ?-then I'll be brief.-O happy dagger! [Snatching ROMEO's dagger. This is thy sheath; [Stabs herself.] there rust, and let me die. [Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies. Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS.

Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.

1 Watch. The ground is bloody; Search about the
church-yard:

Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach. [Ex. some.
Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain ;—
And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead,
Who here hath lain these two days buried.-
Go, tell the prince,-run to the Capulets,-
Raise up the Montagues,-some others search ;-
[Exeunt other Watchmen.
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes,
We cannot without circumstance descry.

Enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR.
2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in
the church-yard.
[hither.
1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come
Enter another Watchman, with Friar LAUREnce.
3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and

weeps:

We took this mattock and this spade from him,
As he was coming from this church-yard side.
1 Watch. A great suspicion; Stay the friar too.
Enter the PRINCE, and Attendants.
Prince. What misadventure is so early up,
That calls our person from our morning's rest

Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, and others.
Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
La. Cap. The people in the street cry-Romeo,
Some-Juliet, and some Paris; and all run,
With open outcry, toward our monument.

Prince. What fear is this, which startles in our ears?
1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain;
And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.

Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul mur-
der comes.

1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's With instruments upon them, fit to open [man; These dead men's tombs.

Cap. O, heavens!-O, wife! look how our daugh

ter bleeds!

This dagger hath mista'en,-for, lo! his house
Is empty on the back of Montague,-

And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.
La. Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a bell,
That warns my old age to a sepulchre.

Enter MONTAGUE and others.

Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir more early down.

Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath : What further woe conspires against mine age? Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.

Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave?

Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
Till we can clear these ambiguities,

And know their spring, their head, their true descent;
And then will I be general of your woes,
And lead you even to death: Meantime forbear,
And let mischance be slave to patience.--
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.

Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me, of this direful murder;
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemned and myself excus'd.

Prince.Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.

Romeo there dead, was husband to that Juliet,
And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:
I married them; and their stolen marriage-day
Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city;
For whom and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
You-to remove that siege of grief from her,-
Betroth'd, and would have married her perforce,
To county Paris :-Then comes she to me;
And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means
To rid her from this second marriage,
Or, in my cell there would she kill herself.
Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,
A sleeping potion; which so took effect
As I intended, for it wrought on her
The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo,
That he should hither come as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
Being the time the potion's force should cease.
But he which bore my letter, friar John,
Was staid by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my letter back: Then all alone,
At the prefixed hour of her waking,
Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
But when I came, (some minute ere the time
Of her awaking,) here untimely lay
The noble Paris, and true Romeo, dead.
She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of heaven with patience:
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb
And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
But (as it seems) did violence on herself.
All this I know; and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy: And, if aught in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time,
Unto the rigour of severest law.

;

Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man.-
Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this?
Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death;
And then in post he came from Mantua,
To this same place, to this same monument.
This letter he early bid me give his father;
And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault,
If I departed not, and left him there.
Prince. Give me the letter, I will look on it.-
Where is the county's
that rais'd the watch ?-
page,
Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's
[grave
And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:
Anon, comes one with light to ope the tomb;
And, by and by, my master drew on him;
And then I ran away to call the watch.

Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words,
Their course of love, the tidings of her death:
And here he writes-that he did buy a poison
Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal

Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.-
Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!-
See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love!
And I, for winking at your discords too,
Have lost a brace of kinsmen :-all are punish'd.
Cap. O, brother Montague, give me thy hand :
This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
Can I demand.

Mon.
But I can give thee more:
For I will raise her statue in pure gold;
That, while Verona by that name is known,
There shall no figure at such rate be set,
As that of true and faithful Juliet.

Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady lie;
Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

[brings;
Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it
The sun for sorrow will not shew his head:
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things:
Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:
For never was a story of more woe
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

[Exeunt

that wish him a longer life; but his death is not precipitated, he has lived out the time allotted him in the construction of the play; nor do I doubt the ability of Shakspeare to have continued his existence, though some of his sallies are perhaps out of the reach of Dryden; whose genius was not very fertile of merriment, nor ductile to humour, but acute, argumentative, comprehensive, and sublime.

THIS play is one of the most pleasing of our author's perform-cutio's wit, gaiety, and courage, will always procure him friends ances. The scenes are busy and various, the incidents are numerous and important, the catastrophe irresistibly affecting, and the process of the action carried on with such probability, at least with such congruity to popular opinions, as tragedy requires. Here is one of the few attempts of Shakspeare to exhibit the conversation of gentlemen, to represent the airy sprightliness of juvenile elegance. Mr. Dryden mentions a tradition, which might easily reach his time, of a declaration made by Shakspeare, that he was obliged to kill Mercutio in the third act, lest he should have been killed by him. Yet he thinks him no such formidable person, but that he might have lived through the play, and died in his bed, without danger to the poet. Dryden well knew, had he been in quest of truth, in a pointed sentence, that more regard is commonly had to the words than the thought, and that it is very seldom to be rigorously understood. Mer

The Nurse is one of the characters in which the author delighted: he has, with great subtlety of distinction, drawn her at once loquacious and secret, obsequious and insolent, trusty and dishonest.

His comic scenes are happily wrought, but his pathetic strains are always polluted with some unexpected depravations. His persons, however distressed, have a conceit left them in their misery, a miserable conceit.-JOHNSON.

HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK.

THE first edition of this splendid tragedy, which has been recently discovered, was printed in 1603. It was among the ear. liest of our Author's works; and Steevens saw a copy of Speght's edition of Chaucer, which formerly belonged to Dr. Gabriel Harvey (the antagonist of Nash), who, in his own handwriting, has set down Hamlet, as a performance with which he was well acquainted, in 1598. His words are these: "The younger sort take much delight in Shakspeare's Venus and Adonis; but his Lucrece, and his tragedy, of Hamlet, Prince

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of Denmark, have it in them to please the wiser sort, 158." In the books of the Stationers' Company, this play was entered by James Roberts, July 26, 1602, under the title of "A booke called The Revenge of Hamlett, Prince of Denmarke, as it was lately acted by the Lord Chamberlain his servantes," The story on which the play is built, may be found in Saxe Grammaticus, the Danish historian. From thence Helleforest adopted it in his collection of novels; and from this latter work, the Historie of Hamblett, quarto, bl. I. was translated.

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Mar.

Who hath reliev'd you?
Fran.

Give you good night.

Mar.

Ber.

Bernardo hath my place.
[Exit FRANCISCO.

Holla, Bernardo !

Say.

O, farewell, honest soldier : | Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
Does not divide the Sunday from the week:
What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day;
Who is 't, that can inform me ?
Hor.
That can I;
At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king,
Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,
Dar'd to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet
(For so this side of our known world esteem'd him,)
Did slay this Fortinbras; who, by a seal'd compact,
Well ratified by law, and heraldry,

What, is Horatio there?
Hor.
A piece of him.
Ber. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Marcellus.
Hor. What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?
Ber. I have seen nothing.

Mar. Horatio says, 'tis but our fantasy;
And will not let belief take hold of him,
Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us :
Therefore I have entreated him, along
With us to watch the minutes of this night;
That, if again this apparition come,
He may approve our eyes, and speak to it.
Hor. Tush! tush! 'twill not appear.
Ber.

Sit down awhile;

And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.
Hor.

And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
Ber. Last night of all,

When yon same star, that's westward from the pole,
Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus, and myself,
The bell then beating one,-

Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands,
Which he stood seiz'd of, to the conqueror :
Against the which, a moiety competent
Was gaged by our king; which had return'd
To the inheritance of Fortinbras,

Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same co-mait,
And carriage of the article design'd,

His fell to Hamlet: Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
Of unimproved mettle hot and full,

Well, sit we down, Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there,
Shark'd up a list of landless resolutes,
For food and diet, to some enterprize,
That hath a stomach in 't: which is no other
(As it doth well appear unto our state,)
But to recover of us by strong hand,
And terms compulsatory, those 'foresaid lands
So by his father lost: And this, I take it,
Is the main motive of our preparations;
The source of this our watch; and the chief head
Of this post-haste and romage in the land.

[again! Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes Enter Ghost.

Ber. In the same figure, like the king that's dead.
Mar. Thou art a scholar, speak to it, Horatio.
Ber. Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.
Hor. Most like : it harrows me with fear, and
Ber. It would be spoke to.
[wonder.
Mar.
Speak to it, Horatio.
Hor. What art thou, that usurp'st this time of night,
Together with that fair and warlike form
In which the majesty of buried Denmark
Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak.
Mar. It is offended.

Ber.

See! it stalks away.
Hor. Stay; speak: speak I charge thee, speak.
[Exit Ghost.

Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.
Ber. How now, Horatio? you tremble, and look
Is not this something more than fantasy?
What think you of it?

[pale:

Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe, Without the sensible and true avouch

Of mine own eyes.

Mar.

Is it not like the king?
Hor. As thou art to thyself:
Such was the very armour he had on,
When he the ambitious Norway combated;
So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle,
He smote the sledded Polack on the ice.
"Tis strange.

Mar. Thus, twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know
But, in the gross and scope of mine opinion, [not;
This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
Mar. Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that
knows,

Why this same strict and most observant watch
So nightly toils the subject of the land?
And why such daily cast of brazen cannon,
And foreign mart for implements of war

Ber. I think, it be no other, but even so:
Well may it sort, that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch; so like the king
That was, and is, the question of these wars.

Hor. A mote it is, to trouble the mind's eye.
In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.

As, stars with trains of fire shed dews of blood,
Disasters dimm'd the sun; and the moist star,
Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands,
Was sick almost to dooms-day with eclipse.
And even the like precurse of fierce events,-
As harbingers preceding still the fates,
And prologue to the omen coming on,-
Have heaven and earth together démonstrated
Unto our climatures and countrymen.-

Re-enter Ghost.

But, soft; behold! lo, where it comes again!
I'll cross it, though it blast me.-Stay, illusion!
If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me :

If there be any good thing to be done,
That may to thee do ease, and grace to me,
Speak to me:

If thou art privy to thy country's fate.
Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,
O, speak!

Or, if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,
For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,
[Cock crows.

Speak of it-stay, and speak.-Stop it. Marcellus.
Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partizan?
Hor. Do, if it will not stand.

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