Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, Speak of it.

Extraordinarily we have leapt from
The fate of the country
To buried treasure.
We have gone from prognostication
To Pirate’s Booty.

A ghost will walk through to pass on grace
To predict the future or
To deliver his fortune to the lucky sot
Who happens to stumble across it.
If I were a ghost and people kept asking me
Where I buried my treasure, I might stalk off, too.
Especially if you hint that
I extorted it from someone.
Don’t call me a pirate, man.
I was a flippin’ King!
But then, of course, we discover later
How much camaraderie there may be
between pirates and royals.
Hamlet the Younger finds the first group to really help him
In maurading pirates.
They’re not so far apart from one another
I suppose.
Our leaders
Our pirates
Hey, wait, where are you going?

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