My lord?

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly king.
Ham. He was a màn, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw who?

Hor. My lord, the king your father.

Ham.

The king my father!

Hor. Season your admiration for a while
With an attentive ear; till I deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham.

For God's love let me hear!

Hor. Two nights together, had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,

In the dead vast and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
Armed at all points, exactly, cap-à-pé,

Appears before them, and, with solemn march,
Goes slow and stately by them: thrìce 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.

In dreadful secrecy impart they did;

This to me

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.

Ham.

But where was this?

Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we

watch'd.

Ham. Did you not speak to it?

Hor.

My lord, I did :

But answer made it none: yet once, methought,

It lifted up its 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.

Ham.

'Tis very strange.

Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true. Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night?

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

Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a

hundred.

Mar. Ber. Longer, longer.

Hor. Not when I saw it.

Ham.

His beard was grizzl❜d? no?

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

I will watch to-night;

A sable silver'd.

Ham.

Perchance, 'twill walk again.

Hor.

I warrant you.
Ham. 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 to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue.
I will requite your loves. So, fare you well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

All.

Our duty to your honour.

Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: Farewell.

My father's spirit in àrms! all is not well;

[Exeunt.

I doubt some foul play: 'would the night were

come!

Till then sit still, my soul: Foul deeds will rìse, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

[Exit.

A Room in Polonius' House.

Enter POLONIUS to LAERTES.

Polonius.

ET here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!

The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stay'd for: There, my blessing with you; And these few precepts in thy memory

Look thou charácter. Give thy thoughts no tongue,

Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in,

Bear't that th'opposed may beware of thèe.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice:
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgement.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not exprèss'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy:

For the apparel oft proclaims the man;

And they in France, of the best rank and station,
Are most select and generous; chief in that.
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be:

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all,—To thine ownself be trùe;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be fálse to any man.
Farewell; my blessing season this in thee!

Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
Pol. The time invites you; go, your servants tend.

The Platform.

Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS.

Hamlet.

HE air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
Hor. It is a nipping and an eager air.
Ham. What hour now?

Hor.

I think it lacks of twelve.

Mar. No, it is struck.

Hor. I heard it not; it then draws near the

season,

Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.

[A flourish of trumpets within.

What does this mean, my lord?

Ham. The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse,

And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out

The triumph of his pledge.

Hor.

Ham. Ay, marry, is't:

Is it a custom?

But to my mind, though I am native here,

And to the manner bòrn,-it is a custom

More honour'd in the breach, than the observance.

Hor.

Enter Ghost.

Look, my lord, it comes!

Ham. Angels and ministers of grace defend us!

Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn'd,
Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from hell,

Be thy intents wicked, or charitable,

Thou com'st in such a quèstionable shape,

That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee, Hamlet,
King, father, royal Dane: O! answer me:

Let me not burst in ignorance! but tell,
Why thy bones, hears'd in canonized earth,
Have burst their cerements! why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd
Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws,
To cast thee up again! What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again, in cómplete steel
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,