William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare - Complete Works

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 BARNARDO.

HORATIO.

Hail to your lordship!

HAMLET.

I am glad to see you well:

Horatio, or I do forget myself.

HORATIO.

The same, my lord,

And your poor servant ever.

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

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 prithee 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.

HAMLET.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! 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.

HORATIO.

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.

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 Barnardo, 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-pie,

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.

HAMLET.

But where was this?

MARCELLUS.

My lord, upon the platform where we watch.

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 tonight?

Mar. and BARNARDO.

We do, my lord.

HAMLET.

Arm’d, say you?

Both.

Arm’d, my lord.

HAMLET.

From top to toe?

BOTH.

My lord, from head to foot.

HAMLET.

Then saw you not his face?

HORATIO.

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

HAMLET.

What, look’d he frowningly?

HORATIO.

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

HAMLET.

Pale, or red?

HORATIO.

Nay, very pale.

HAMLET.

And fix’d his eyes upon you?

HORATIO.

Most constantly.

HAMLET.

I would I had been there.

HORATIO.

It would have much amaz’d you.

HAMLET.

Very like, very like. Stay’d it long?

HORATIO.

While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

MARCELLUS and BARNARDO.

Longer, longer.

HORATIO.

Not when I saw’t.

HAMLET.

His beard was grizzled, no?

HORATIO.

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

A sable silver’d.

HAMLET.

I will watch tonight;

Perchance ’twill walk again.

HORATIO.

I warrant you it will.

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 tonight,

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 duty to your honour.

HAMLET.

Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.

[EXEUNT HORATIO, MARCELLUS AND BARNARDO.]

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. ]

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 unvalu’d persons do,

Carve for himself; for on his choice depends

The sanctity and health of this 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

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.