The King sees me, and fain will hear my suit.
Why, is not this a strange and seld-seen thing,
That standers-by with toys should strike me mute?
Down by the dale that flows with purple gore
Standeth a fiery tower; there sits a judge
Upon a seat of steel and molten brass,
And leads unto the lake where hell doth stand.
He’ll do thee justice for Horatio ’s death.
Or this, and then thou need’st not take thy breath.
Who will revenge Horatio’s murder then?
No, no! Fie, no! Pardon me, I’ll none of that.
And, Balthazar , I’ll be with thee to bring,