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I have heard the spirits of the dead May walk again: if such thing be, thy mother Appeared to me last night; for ne'er was dream So like a waking.
Angels, and ministers of grace, defend us! Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd. Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell. Be thy intents wicked or charitable. Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, That I will speak to thee.
My hour is almost come, When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames Must render up myself.
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.
By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.
As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, Disasters in the sun; and the moist star Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse
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