O God! O God!

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. How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in nature, Possess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months dead! nay, not so much, not

two:

So excellent a king; that was, to this,

Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother,
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and Earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on; and yet, within a month,
Let me not think on't. Frailty, thy name is. wo-

man!

A little month; or ere those shoes were old,.
With which she followed my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears; why she, even she,
(O God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer,) — married with my
uncle,

My father's brother, but no more like my father,
Than I to Hercules: within a month;

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,

She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to, good;

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. [To BER.] Good even, sir.

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.
Ham. I would not have your enemy say so;
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-stu

dent;

I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd

meats

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
'Would I had met my dearest foe in Heaven

Ere I had ever seen that day, Horatio!

My father, - methinks, I see my father.
Hor. O, where, my lord?

Ham. 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.
Saw, who?

Ham.

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 vast and middle of the night,

Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
Arm'd at all points, exactly, cap-à-pié,
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, 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.

But answer made it none; yet once, methought,

It lifted up it head, and did address

It self 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?

All. My lord, from head to foot.

Ham. Then saw you not his face?

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

Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Ham.

Hor.

I would I had been there. It would have much amaz'd you.

Ham.

Very like,

Very like. Stay'd it long?

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver'd.

Ham. I'll watch to-night: perchance, 'twill walk

again.

Hor. I warrant you 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 ye well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you..

All.

Our duties to your honour. Ham. Your loves, as mine to you. Farewell. [Exeunt HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BER

NARDO.

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.

Ophelia.

Do you doubt that?