If thou hast any sound, 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 country's fate,
Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,
O, speak!
Or if thou hast uphoarded 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! (The cock crows.)
Stop it, Marcellus.

MARCELLUS.
Shall I strike at it with my partisan ?

HORATIO.
Do, if it will not stand.

BERNARDO.

'Tis here! HORATIO.

'Tis here! MARCELLUS. 'Tis gone!

(Exit Ghost.)
We do it wrong, being so majestical,
To offer it the show of violence;
For it is, as the air, invulnerable,
And our vain blows malicious mockery.

BERNARDO.
It was about to speak, when the cock crew.

HORATIO.
And then it started like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,

Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day, and at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine.

MARCELLUS.
Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

HORATIO. So have I heard and do in part believe it. But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward 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.

(Exeunt.)

[ A room of state in the castle. To the strains of a Danish march, there enter the King, Queen, HamLET, POLONIUS, Laertes, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and ATTENDANTS.]

KING. THOUGH

yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green, and that it us befitted ' To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe, Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature That we with wisest sorrow think on him, Together with remembrance of ourselves. Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, The imperial jointress to this warlike state, Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy, Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along. For all, our thanks. And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes ?

LAERTES.

My dread lord, Your leave and favour to return to France, From whence though willingly I came to Den

mark, To show my duty in your coronation, Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend' again toward

France And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

KING. Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

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