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Horatio

Where, my lord?

Hamlet

In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Horatio

I saw him once; he was a goodly king.

Hamlet

He was a man, take him for all in all,

I shall not look upon his like again.

Horatio

My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

Hamlet

Saw? Who?

Horatio

My lord, the King your father.

Hamlet

The King my father!

Horatio

Season your admiration for a while

With an attent ear, till I may deliver

Upon the witness of these gentlemen

This marvel to you.

Hamlet

For God's love let me hear.

Horatio

Two nights together had these gentlemen,

Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch

In the dead waste and middle of the night,

Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,

Armed at point exactly, cap-à-pie,

Appears before them, and with solemn march

Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd

By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,

Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'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,

Where, as they had deliver'd, 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.

Hamlet

But where was this?

Marcellus

My lord, upon the platform where we watch.

Hamlet

Did you not speak to it?

Horatio

My lord, I did;

But answer made it none: yet once methought

It lifted up it head, and did address

Itself to motion, like as it would speak.

But even then the morning cock crew loud,

And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,

And vanish'd from our sight.

Hamlet

'Tis very strange.

Horatio

As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;

And we did think it writ down in our duty

To let you know of it.

Hamlet

Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.

Hold you the watch tonight?

Marcellus and Barnardo

We do, my lord.

Hamlet

Arm'd, say you?

Both

Arm'd, my lord.

Hamlet

From top to toe?

Both

My lord, from head to foot.

Hamlet

Then saw you not his face?

Horatio

O yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.

Hamlet

What, look'd he frowningly?

Horatio

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

Hamlet

Pale, or red?

Horatio

Nay, very pale.

Hamlet

And fix'd his eyes upon you?

Horatio

Most constantly.

Hamlet

I would I had been there.

Horatio

It would have much amaz'd you.

Hamlet

Very like, very like. Stay'd it long?

Horatio

While one with moderate haste might tell

                         a hundred.

Marcellus and Barnardo

Longer, longer.

Horatio

Not when I saw't.

Hamlet

His beard was grizzled, no?

Horatio

It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver'd.

Hamlet

I will watch tonight;

Perchance 'twill walk again.

Horatio

I warrant you it will.

Hamlet

If it assume my noble father's person,

I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape

And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,

If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,

Let it be tenable in your silence still;

And whatsoever else shall hap tonight,

Give it an understanding, but no tongue.

I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well.

Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve,

I'll visit you.

All

Our duty to your honour.

Hamlet

Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.

[Exeunt Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo]

My father's spirit in arms! All is not well;

I doubt some foul play: would the night

     were come!

Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise,

Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's

     eyes.

[Exit]

Scene III

A room in Polonius's house

Enter Laertes and Ophelia

Laertes

My necessaries are embark'd. Farewell.

And, sister, as the winds give benefit

And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,

But let me hear from you.

Ophelia

Do you doubt that?

Laertes

For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour,

Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood;

A violet in the youth of primy nature,

Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting;

The perfume and suppliance of a minute;

No more.

Ophelia

No more but so?

Laertes

Think it no more.

For nature crescent does not grow alone

In thews and bulk; but as this temple waxes,

The inward service of the mind and soul

Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,

And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch

The virtue of his will; but you must fear,

His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;

For he himself is subject to his birth:

He may not, as unvalu'd persons do,

Carve for himself; for on his choice depends

The sanctity and health of this whole state;

And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd

Unto the voice and yielding of that body

Whereof he is the head. Then if he says

                         he loves you,

It fits your wisdom so far to believe it

As he in his particular act and place

May give his saying deed; which is no further

Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.

Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain

If with too credent ear you list his songs,

Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open

To his unmaster'd importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;

And keep you in the rear of your affection,

Out of the shot and danger of desire.

The chariest maid is prodigal enough

If she unmask her beauty to the moon.

Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes:

The canker galls the infants of the spring

Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd,

And in the morn and liquid dew of youth

Contagious blastments are most imminent.

Be wary then, best safety lies in fear.

Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.

Ophelia

I shall th'effect of this good lesson keep

As watchman to my heart. But good my brother,

4
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