Hamlet. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with

you:

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?

Marcellus?

Marcellus. My good lord

Hamlet. I am very glad to see you.

Good even, sir.

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
Horatio. A truant disposition, good my lord.
Hamlet. I would not hear your enemy say so,
Nor shall you do my ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report

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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.

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

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

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Hamlet. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked-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.
Horatio. O where, my lord?
Hamlet.

In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Horatio. I saw him once; he was a goodly king.
Hamlet. He was a man, take him for all in all,

I shall not look upon his like again.

Horatio. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Hamlet. Saw? who?

Horatio. My lord, the king your father.

Hamlet.

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The king my father!

Horatio. Season your admiration for a while
With an attent ear, till I may deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,

This marvel to you.

Hamlet.

For God's love, let me hear.

Horatio. 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
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd
By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,
Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled
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.

Hamlet.

But where was this?

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Marcellus. My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. Hamlet. Did you not speak to it?

Horatio.

My lord, I did;

But answer made it none: yet once methought
It lifted up it 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.

Hamlet.

'Tis very strange.

Horatio. 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.

Hamlet. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night?

Marcellus. }

Bernardo.

Hamlet. Arm'd say you?

We do, my lord.

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Hamlet. Then saw you not his face?

Horatio. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.
Hamlet. What, look'd he frowningly?

230

Horatio. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

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Horatio. It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver'd.

Hamlet.

I will watch to-night;

I warrant it will.

Perchance 'twill walk again.

Horatio.

Hamlet. 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:

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Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,

I'll visit you.

All.

Our duty to your honour.

Hamlet. 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!
Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise,
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

SCENE III. A room in Polonius's house.

Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA.

Laertes. 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.

Ophelia.

Do you doubt that?

Laertes. 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 of a minute,

No more.

Ophelia. No more but so?

Laertes.

Think it no more:

For nature crescent does not grow alone
In thews 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 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 health of this whole state;

[Exit.

ΙΟ

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And therefore must his choice be circumscribed

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
To his unmaster'd importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister,
And keep you in the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon:
Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes:
The canker galls the infants of the spring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary then; best safety lies in fear:
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.

Ophelia. I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,
As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,

Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads
And recks not his own rede.

Laertes.

O, fear me not.

I stay too long: but here my father comes.

Enter POLONIUS.

A double blessing is a double grace;

Occasion smiles upon a second leave.

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Polonius. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,

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