_Mont._ Return to France, for thy old father's dead, And thou by murder disinherited. Attend with patience the success of things, But leave revenge unto the King of kings. [_Exit._ [CHARLEMONT _starts and wakes._ _Charl._ O my affrighted soul, what fearful dream Was this that waked me? Dreams are but the raised Impressions of premeditated things By serious apprehension left upon Our minds; or else the imaginary shapes Of objects proper to the complexion, or The dispositions of our bodies. These Can neither of them be the cause why I Should dream thus; for my mind has not been moved With any one conception of a thought To such a purpose; nor my nature wont To trouble me with fantasies of terror. It must be something that my Genius would Inform me of. Now gracious Heaven forbid! Oh! let my spirit be deprived of all Foresight and knowledge, ere it understand That vision acted, or divine that act To come. Why should I think so? Left I not My worthy father i' the kind regard Of a most loving uncle? Soldier, saw'st No apparition of a man? _Sol._ You dream, Sir. I saw nothing. _Charl._ Tush! these idle dreams Are fabulous. Our boyling fantasies Like troubled waters falsify the shapes Of things retained in them, and make 'em seem Confounded when they are distinguished. So, My actions daily conversant with war, The argument of blood and death had left Perhaps the imaginary presence of Some bloody accident upon my mind, Which, mixed confusedly with other thoughts, Whereof the remembrance of my father might Be one presented, all together seem Incorporate, as if his body were The owner of that blood, the subject of That death, when he's at Paris and that blood Shed here. It may be thus. I would not leave The war, for reputation's sake, upon An idle apprehension, a vain dream. _Enter the_ Ghost. _Sol._ Stand! Stand, I say! No? Why then have at thee, Sir. If you will not stand, I'll make you fall. [_Fires._ Nor stand nor fall? Nay then, the devil's dam Has broke her husband's head, for sure it is A spirit. I shot it through, and yet it will not fall. [_Exit._ [_The_ Ghost _approaches_ CHARLEMONT _who fearfully avoids it._ _Charl._ O pardon me, my doubtful heart was slow To credit that which I did fear to know. [_Exeunt._ ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I.--_Inside a Church._ _Enter the funeral of_ MONTFERRERS. _D'Am._ Set down the body. Pay Earth what she lent. But she shall bear a living monument To let succeeding ages truly know That she is satisfied what he did owe, Both principal and use; because his worth Was better at his death than at his birth. [_A dead march. Enter the funeral of_ CHARLEMONT _as a_ Soldier.