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But soft, behold! Lo where it comes again!

But soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again!
I'll cross it though it blast me. Stay, illusion!
It spreads his arms.
If thou hast any sound or use of voice,
Speak to me.
If there be any good thing to be done
That may to thee do ease, and grace to me,
Speak to me.
If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
Which happily foreknowing may avoid,
O, speak!
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. The cock crows. Stay and speak!Anaphora & Epistrophe
—Stop it, Marcellus.

Act 1
Scene 1
Line 138

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