The king doth wake tonight and takes his rouse, keeps wassail and the swaggering upspring reels.
What may this mean that thou, dead corse, again in complete steel, revisits thus the glimpses of the moon, making night hideous, and we fools of nature so horridly to shake our disposition beyond the reaches of our souls?
What if it tempt you toward the dreadful summit of the cliff that beetles o’er his base into the sea, and there assume some other horrible form which might deprive your sovereignty of reason and draws you into madness?
Revenge his most foul and unnatural murder!
But know, thou noble youth, the serpent that did sting thy father’s life now wears his crown.
Thy commandment all alone shall live within the book and volume of my brain, unmixed with baser matter.