Page:Hamlet - The Arden Shakespeare - 1899.djvu/72



Hor. Look, my lord, it comes!

Ham. 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 comest in such a questionable shape That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, King, father; Royal Dane, O, answer me! Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death,