Wittenberg?
- Marcellus?
- My good lord.
I am very glad to see you.
Good even, sir.
But what is your affair in Elsinore?
We'll teach you to drink deep.
I came to see your father's funeral.
Do not mock me, fellow-student.
I think it was to see my mother's
wedding.
Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.
Thrift, thrift, Horatio!
The funeral baked meats did coldly
Furnish forth the marriage tables.
My father...
Methinks I see my father.
O, where, my lord?
In my mind's eye, Horatio.
I saw him once, he was a goodly king.
He was a man,
take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
My lord, I think
I saw him yesternight.
Saw? Who?
The king.
Your father.
The king my father!
Season your admiration for a while
With an attent ear,
Till I may deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.
For God's love, let me hear!
Two nights together had these
gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead vast and middle of
the night,
Been thus encountered.
A figure like your father,
Armed at point, exactly, cap-a-pe,
Appears before them, and with solemn
march
Goes slowly and stately by them.
And I with them the third night kept
the watch,
Where, as they had delivered,
Both in time, form of the thing,
The apparition comes.
As I do live, my lord, 'tis true.
Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this
troubles me.
- Hold you the watch tonight?
- We do, my lord.
I will watch tonight.
- Perchance 'twill walk again.
- I warrant it will.
I'll speak to it, though hell itself
Should gape and bid me hold my peace.
I pray you all,
If you have hitherto concealed this,
Let it be so still.
'Twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.
Our duty to your honour.
Your loves, as mine to you.
Farewell.
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 overwhelm them,
To men's eyes.
My necessaries are embarked. Farewell.
And, sister, as the winds give benefit,
Do not sleep,
But let me hear from you.
Do you doubt that?
For Hamlet, and the trifling of his
favour,
Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood.
No more.
- No more but so?
- Think it no more.
Fear it, Ophelia, my dear sister,
And keep you in the rear of your
affection, out of the shot of desire.
Yet here, Laertes?
There, my blessings with thee!
And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character.
Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought
his act.
Be thou familiar,
but by no means vulgar.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not in fancy; rich, not gaudy.
For the apparel oft proclaims the man.
And they in France of the best rank
Are most select and generous in that.
Farewell, my blessing season this
in thee!
Most humbly do I take my leave.
The time invites you. Go,
your servants tend.
Farewell, Ophelia,
and remember well
What I have said to you.
'Tis in my memory locked,
And you yourself shall keep the key.
Farewell!
What is it, Ophelia, he has said
to you?
So please you, something touching
the Lord Hamlet.
Marry, well bethought.
'Tis told me, he has very oft of late
Given private time to you.
What is between you? Give me up
the truth.
He has, my lord, of late made many
tenders
Of his affection to me.
Affection! Pooh!
You speak like a green girl,
Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
Do you believe his tenders,
as you call them?
I do not know what I should think.
Marry, I'll teach you:
Think yourself a baby,
That you have taken them for true pay.
Tender yourself more dearly.
My lord, he has importuned me
With love in honourable fashion.
Ay, fashion you may call it. Go to.
And's given countenance to his speech
With almost all the holy vows.
Ay, springes to catch woodcocks!
I know, when the blood burns, how
Prodigal the soul lends the vows.
For Hamlet, believe so much in him
That he's young, and with a