THE DANISH SENTINELS. FRANCISCO -BERNARDO HOFATIO MARCELLUS Ber. Who's there? Fran. Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold Yourself. Ber. Long live the king! Fran. Ber. Bernardo? He. Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour. Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve, get thee to bed, Francisco. Ber. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Marcellus. Mar. Horatio says, 't is but our fantasy ; And will not let belief take hold of him, Touching this dreadful sight, twice seen of us; With us to watch the minutes of this night; And let us once again assail your ears, Sit down awhile, That are so fortified against our story, Hor. Well, sit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. Ber. Last night of all, When yon same star that's westward from the pole, The bell then beating one, Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again! (Enter Ghost.) Ber. In the same figure like the king that 's dead. Mar. Thou art a scholar, speak to it, Horatio. Ber. Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio. Mar. Speak to it, Horatio. Hor. What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, Together with that fair and war-like form In which the majesty of buried Denmark Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak. Ber. See it stalks away. Hor. Stay; speak: speak, I charge thee, speak. Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer. (Exit Ghost.) Ber. How now, Horatio? you trenible, and look pale : Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you of it? Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe, Without the sensible and true avouch Is it not like the king? Hor. As thou art to thyself: Such was the very armor he had on, When he the ambitious Norway combated; So frowned he once, when, in an angry parle He smote the sledded Polack on the ice. "T is strange. Mar. Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. Hor. In what particular thought to work I know not; But, in the gross and scope of mine opinion, Mar. food now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, Why this same strict and most observant watch Hor. That can I; Our last king, At least, the whisper goes so. Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet Did forfeit with his life all those his lands, Had he been vanquisher; as by the same co-mart His fell to Hamlet: Now, sir, young Fortinbras Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there, That hath a stomach in 't: which is no other The source of this our watch, and the chief head The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead * * * * As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, (Re-enter Ghost.) But soft; behold! lo, where it comes again! If there be any good thing to be done, If thou art privy to thy country's fate, Or, if thou hast uphoarded in thy life For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, Speak of it stay, and speak. (Cock crows.) Stop it, Marcellus. Ber. Hor. Mar. 'Tis gone! 'Tis here! 'T is here. (Exit Ghost.) We do it wrong, being so majestical, For it is, as the air, invulnerable, And our vain blows malicious mockery. Ber. It was about to speak when the cock crew. To his confine and of the truth herein This present object made probation. Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock. Hor. So have I heard, and do in part believe it Mar. Let's do 't, I pray; and I this morning know SHAKSPEARE 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, sır. — But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord. Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so, Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, |