way you shall tell me where in the forest you live. Will you go? Orl. With all my heart, good youth. Ros. Nay, you must call me Rosalind. [Exeunt. Four Characters.-HAMLET, HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO. Present-HAMLET alone. Ham. O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature By what it fed on: and yet, within a month- ! Like Niobe, all tears: why she, even she— O God! a beast, that want's discourse of reason, Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue. Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO. Hor. Hail to your lordship! Ham. I am glad to see you well: Horatio,—or I do forget myself. Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus? Mar. My good lord— Ham. I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir. Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio. Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly king. Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. Hor. My lord, the king, your father. Ham. The king, my father! Hor. Season your admiration for a while Upon the witness of these gentlemen, 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 point exactly, cap-a-pe, Appears before them, and with solemn march Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled, 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: Form of the thing, each word made true and good, These hands are not more like. Ham. But where was this? Mar. 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 Itself to motion, like as it would speak; But even then the morning cock crew loud, Ham. 'Tis very strange. Hor. 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. Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night? Ham. Then saw you not his face? Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. Ham. What, look'd he frowningly? Hor. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Ham. Pale or red? Hor. Nay, very pale. Ham. And fix'd his eyes upon you? Hor. Most constantly. Ham. I would I had been there. Hor. It would have much amazed you. Ham. Very like, very like. Stay'd it long? Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. Mar. Longer, longer. Ber. Hor. Not when I saw't. Ham. His beard was grizzled,—no? Hor. It was as I have seen it in his life, 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; I'll visit you. All. Our duty to your honour. Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: farewell. [Exeunt all but Hamlet. My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; I doubt some foul play: would the night were come! Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. |