The night has been unruly: where we lay,
Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say,
Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death,
Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth
Was feverous and did shake
as I stumbled to the graveyard, yet awake

At my approach, ghosts, wandering here and there,
Troop home to churchyards: damned spirits all,
That in crossways and floods have burial,
Already to their wormy beds are gone.

Yet I am one for fortune, and for dance
alone among the skeletons I prance
yet, is this a dagger which I see before me?
There's daggers in men's smiles and in their eyes
What's done is done I shout, and leap the shadows
Full knowing that I bear a charmed life

Fair is foul, and foul is fair this even'
as old bones arise anew to tread the earth
Nor do I fear thy looks or jest with nature,
When the hurlyburly 's done,yet all is mirth

Them bones, them bones, them dry bones
are all shook up, like battered bread and leaven'
The wrinkles on our flesh are all wither'd
And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;
The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth
And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle even so toward my hand?
No, it's the sword of fate descending
into the steps that walk upon this land....