You talkin’ to me, Marcellus?
You talkin’ to me?
Did you just “thou” me?
Who do you think I am?
Oh, oh, you’re “thou”ing Barnardo, are you?
He’s a scholar?
No, I am, I’m a scholar.
Didn’t they tell you I’m just back from Witttenberg?
Oh, what?
Sarcasm?
At this moment?
When we’ve got a ghost moving quite uncomfortably quickly in our direction?
Well yes I do think now is the time actually.
Do you just go round thou-ing all of your superiors?
Is this your standard practice?
Yeah, ghost, schmost
Oh. Ghost.
Ghost.
There’s a ghost here.
Wish I had a book right about now.

Hey – ho – hi – hellooo – holla!
There is something about the h
That calls out to another
Howdy, even, huh?
H h h h h
I reach across the space between
With this H and this vowel
I hope you can hear me.

Not just the earth, no
We owe our loyalties to the men who put the lines around it
We bind ourselves to them
Like they are driftwood floating in the rapids
And if we tie ourselves to their buoyancy
We will glide through the rocky patches
Without being submerged
And if we bump along the shore
Or tear our clothes on sharp stones
Or bruise our bodies on the rocks
We won’t complain
Or release our bonds
No matter what waterfall we tumble over.