HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

Francisco. Nay, answer me; stand, and unfold yourself.

Bernardo. Long live the king!

Francisco. Bernardo?

Bernardo. He.

Francisco. You come most carefully upon your hour.

Bernardo. 'T is now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Fran

cisco.

Francisco. For this relief much thanks; 't is bitter cold, And I am sick at heart.

Bernardo. Have you had quiet guard?

Francisco.

Bernardo. Well, good night.

Not a mouse stirring.

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If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,

The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.

Francisco. I think I hear them.-Stand, ho! Who is there?

Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.

Horatio. Friends to this ground.
Marcellus.

Francisco. Give you good night.
Marcellus.

Who hath reliev'd you?

Francisco.

And liegemen to the Dane.

O, farewell, honest soldier:

Bernardo has my place.

Bernardo. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Marcellus. Marcellus. What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?

Bernardo. I have seen nothing.

Marcellus. Horatio says 't is but our fantasy,

And will not let belief take hold of him

Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us;

Therefore I have entreated him along

With us to watch the minutes of this night,
That if again this apparition come,

He may approve our eyes and speak to it.

Horatio. Tush, tush, 't will not appear.
Bernardo.

And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.

Horatio.

Sit down awhile; 30

Well, sit we down,

And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.

Bernardo. Last night of all,

When yond same star that 's westward from the pole
Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,

The bell then beating one,—

Enter GHOST.

Marcellus. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes

again!

Bernardo. In the same figure, like the king that 's dead. Marcellus. Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. Bernardo. Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio. Horatio. Most like; it harrows me with fear and wonder. Bernardo. It would be spoke to.

Marcellus.

Question it, Horatio.

Horatio. What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form.

In which the majesty of buried Denmark

Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!
Marcellus. It is offended.

Bernardo.

See, it stalks away!

Horatio. Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!

Marcellus. 'T is gone, and will not answer.

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50

[Exit Ghost.

Bernardo. How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale ;

Is not this something more than fantasy?

What think you on 't?

Horatio. Before my God, I might not this believe