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Hor.

Ham.

Hor.

Ham.

Mar.

Ham.

Hor.

Ham.

By what it fed on; and yet, within a month-
Let me not think on't-Frailty, thy name is woman!
A little month! or ere those shoes were old
With which she followed my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears; why 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

Hail to your lordship.

I am glad to see you well; Horatio, or I do forget myself.

The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.

Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:
And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
?-
Marcellus ?

My good lord.

I am very glad to see you. [To Bernardo] Good even,

sir.

But what, in faith, make you
from Wittenberg?
A truant disposition, good my lord.
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.

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My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

I

pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; I think it was to my mother's wedding.

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

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.

O my father, my father! methinks I see my father.
Where, my lord?

Why, 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?

My lord, the king your father.
Ha, ha—the king my father say you!
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-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

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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 delivered, 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 where was this?

My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.

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Ham.

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It would have much amaz'd you.

Yea, very like, very like. Stay'd it long?

While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

Longer, longer.

Not when I saw't.

His beard was grizzl❜d? no?

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

A sable silver'd.

I will watch to-night; perchance 'twill walk again.
I warrant it will.

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.
loves. So fare you
well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

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[Exeunt Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo]

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

[Exit Hamlet]

eyes.

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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;

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