For he'd ne'er stick at anything yet.
Hark, hark, 'tis the signal by goles,
It sounds like a funeral knell:
O hear it not, Duncan, it tolls
To call thee to heaven or hell.
Or if you to heaven won't fly,
But rather prefer Pluto's ether,
Only wait a few years till I die,
And we'll go to the devil together,
Ri fol de rol, &c.