Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself: I know, you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinore?

We'll teach you to drink deep, ere you depart.

Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; I think, it was to see my mother's wedding.

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! 13 the funeral bak'd

meats

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
'Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!-
My father, Methinks, I see my father.

Hor. My lord?

Where,

Ham.
14 In my mind's eye, Horatio.
Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king.
Ham. He was a man, 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 attent ear; till I may 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 waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
Armed at point, exactly, cap-à-pé,

Appears before them, and, with solemn march,
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd,
By their oppress'd and fear-surprized 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.

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,

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; 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?

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

Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Very like: Stay'd it long?

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,

A sable silver'd.

Ham.

I will watch to-night;

Perchance, 'twill walk again.

Hor.

I warrant, it will.
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.

[Exeunt Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo.

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' House.

Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA.

Laer. 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.

Oph.

Do

you doubt that?

Laer. 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 15 of a minute;
No more.

Oph.
Laer.

No more but so?

Think it no more:

For nature, crescent, does not grow alone
In thews 16, 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 17, 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 unvalued persons do,

Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The safety and the health of the 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