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,

Have burst their cerements! why the sepulchre,

Wherein we saw thee quietly in-urn'd,

Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,

To cast thee up again! What may this mean,

That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel,

Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,