Complete Works of William Shakespeare: 197 Plays, Poems & Sonnets

all forms, moods, shapes of grief,

These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

nay it is; I know not 'seems.'

Go on; I'll follow thee.

HAMLET I would I had been there. HORATIO It would have much amazed you.

Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.

Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time, Form of the thing, each word made true and good, The apparition comes:

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand on end, Like quills upon the fretful porpentine:

'Tis here! HORATIO 'Tis here! MARCELLUS 'Tis gone! Exit Ghost We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show of violence; For it is, as the air, invulnerable, And our vain blows malicious mockery.