HORATIO

Friends to this ground. A piece of him. Tush, tush, it'll not appear. Well, fit we down, And let us hear Barnardo speak of this. What art thou that usurpest this time of night, Together with that Fair and Warlike form In which the Majesty of buried Denmark Did sometime march: By Heaven I charge thee speak. Stay: speak; speak: I Charge thee, speak. Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes. As thou art to thy self, Such was the very Armour he had on, When the Ambitious Norwey combated: So frowned he once, when in and angry parley He smote the sledded Pole-axe on the Ice. It's strange. In what particular thought to work, I know not: But in the gross and scope of my Opinion, This boades some strange eruption to our State. That can I, At least the whisper goes so: Our last King, Whose Image even but now appeared to us, Was (as you know) by Fortinbras of Norway, (Thereto pricked on by a most emulate Pride) Dared to the Combat. In which, our Valiant Hamlet, (For so this side of our known world esteemed him) Did slay this Fortinbras : who by a Sealed Compact, Well ratified by Law, and Heraldry, Did forfeit (with his life) all those his Lands Which he stood seized on, to the Conqueror: Against the which, a Moiety competent Was gaged by our King: which had returned To the Inheritance of Fortinbras, Had he been Vanquisher, as by the same Covenant And carriage of the Article design, His fell to Hamlet. Now sir, young Fortinbras, Of vnimproued Mettle, hight and full, Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there, Shark'd up a List of Landless Resolutes, For Food and Diet, to some Enterprise That hath a stomach in't: which is no other (And it does well appear unto our State) But to recover of us by strong hand And terms Compulsative, those foresaid Lands So by his Father lost: and this (I take it) Is the main Motive of our Preparations, The Source of this our Watch, and the chief head Of this posthaste, and Rummage in the Land. But soft, behold: Lo, where it comes again: I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay Illusion: If thou hast any found, 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 Countries Fate (Which happily foreknowing may avoid) O speak. Or, if thou hast vp-hoorded in thy life Extorted Treasure in the womb of Earth, (For which, they say, you Spirits oft walk in death) Speak of it. Stay, and speak. Stop it Marcellus. Do, if it will not stand. It's here. And then it started, Like a guilty thing Upon a fearful Summons. I have herd, The Cock that is the Trumpet to the day, Does with his lofty and shrill-sounding Throat Awake the God of Day: and at his warning, Whither in Sea, or Fire, in Earth, or Air, the extravagant, and erring Spirit, hies To his Confine. And of the truth herein, This present Object made probation. So have I herd, and do in partly believe it. But look, the Morn in Russet mantle clad, Walks over the Due of you high Eastern Hill, Break we our Watch up, and by my advice Let us impart what we have seen to night Unto young Hamlet. For upon my life, This Spirit dumb to us, will speak to him: Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, As needful in our Loves, fitting our Duty? Hail to your Lordship. The same my Lord, And your poor Servant ever. A truant disposition, good my Lord. My Lord, I came to see your Father's Funeral. Indeed my Lord, it followed hard upon. O where my Lord? I saw him once; he was a goodly King. My Lord, I think I saw him yesternight. My Lord, the King your Father. Season your admiration for a while With and attended ear; till I may deliver Upon the witness of these Gentlemen, This marvel to you. Two nights together, had these Gentlemen ( Marcellus and Barnardo ) on their Watch In the dead wast and middle of the night Been thus encountered. A figure Like your Father, Armed at all points exactly, Cap a Pe, Appears before them, and with solemn march Goes slow and stately: By them thrice he walked, By their oppressed and fear-surprised eyes, Within his Truncheons length; while they bestil'd Almost to Jelly with the Act of fear, Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me In dreadful secrecy impart they did, And I with them the third Night kept the Watch, Whereas they had delivered both in time, Form of the thing; each word made true and good, The Apparition comes. I knew your Father: These hands are not more Like. My Lord, I did; But answer made it none: yet once me thought It lifted up it head, and did address It self to motion, Like as it would speak: But even then, the Morning Cock crew loud; And at the found it shrunk in hast away, And vanished from our sighed. As I do live my honoured Lord it's true And we did think it writ down in our duty To let you know of it. Oh yes, my Lord, he wore his Beaver up. A countenance more in sorrow then in anger. Nay very pale. Most constantly. It would have much amazed you. While one with moderate hast might tell a hun dreaded. Not when I saw't. It was, as I have seen it in his life, A Sable Silvered. I warrant you it will. It is a nipping and and eager air. I think it lacks of twelve. Indeed I herd it not: then it draws near the season, Wherein the Spirit held his wont to walk. What does this mean my Lord? Look my Lord, it comes. It beckons you to go away with it, As if it some impartment did desire To you alone. No, by no means. Do not my Lord. What if it tempt you towards the Flood my Lord? Or to the dreadful Sonnet of the Cliff, That beetles over his base into the Sea, And there assumes some other horrible form, Which might deprive your Sovereignty of Reason, And draw you into madness think of it? Be ruled, you shall not go. He waxes desperate with imagination. Have after, to what issue will this come? Heaven will direct it. Heaven secure him. Illo, ho, ho, my Lord. What news, my Lord? Good my Lord tell it. Not I, my Lord, by Heaven. There needs no Ghost my Lord, come from the Grave, to tell us this. These are but wild and hurling words, my Lord. There's no offence my Lord. What is't my Lord? we will. Infaith my Lord, not I. Propose the Oath my Lord. O day and night: but this is wondrous strange. Half a share. She is importunate, indeed distract, her mood will needs be pitied. She speaks much of her Father; says she hears There's tricks in the world, and hems, and beats her heart, Spurns enviously at Straws, speaks things in doubt, That carry but half sense: Her speech is nothing, Yet the unshaped use of it does move The hearers to Collection; they aim at it, And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts, Which as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield them, Indeed would make one think there would be thought, Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily. Let them come in, I do not know from what partly of the world I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet. Let him bless thee too. Custom hath made it in him a property of eam sinesse. It might, my Lord. I, my Lord. Not a jot more, my Lord. I my Lord, and of Calve-skins too. What's that my Lord? E'ene so. E'ene so, my Lord. 'Twere to consider: to curiously to consider so. Remember it my Lord? That is most certain. Is't possible? I beseech you. I, good my Lord. How was this sealed? So Guildensterne and Rosincrance, go too't. Why, what a King is this? It must be shortly known to him from England What is the issue of the business there. Peace, who comes here? No my good Lord. This Lapwing runs away with the shell on his head. You will loose this wager, my Lord. Nay, good my Lord. If your mind dislike any thing, obey. I will before stall their repair hither, and say you are not fit. They bleed on both sides. How is't my Lord? Never believe it. I am more and Antic Roman then a Dane: Here's yet some Liquour left. What is it you would see; If ought of woe, or wonder, cease your search. Not from his mouth, Had it the ability of life to thank you: He never gave commandment for their death. But since so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Polake wars, and you from England Are here arrived. Give order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view, And let me speak to the yet unknowing world, How these things came about. So shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgements, casual slaughters Of death's put on by cunning, and forced cause, And in this upshot, purposes mistook, Fallen on the Inventors heads. All this can I Truly deliver. Of that I shall have always cause to speak, And from his mouth Whose voice will draw on more: But let this same be presently performed, Even while men's minds are wild, Lest more mischance On plots, and errors happen. Most Like: It harrows me with fear & wonder Here sweet Lord, at your Service. Oh my deer Lord. Well my Lord. If he steal ought the whilst this Play is Playing, And escape detecting, I will pay the Theft. You might have Rimed. Very well my Lord. I did very well note him. What are they that would speak with me? Now crack a Noble heart: Goodnight sweet Prince, And flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest, Why do's the Drum come hither? Is it a custom?