Of this post-haste and romage* in the land. The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead As, stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, Re-enter Ghost. Vide Johnson But, soft; behold! lo, where it comes again! Speak to me: If there be any good thing to be done, If thou art privy to thy country's fate, Or, if thou hast uphoarded in thy life For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, [Cock crows. Speak of it :-stay, and speak.-Stop it, Marcellus. Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partizan? Hor. Do, if it will not stand. * Search. + Suit. § The moon. || Event Ber. 'Tis here! Hor. Mar. 'Tis gone! 'Tis here! We do it wrong, being so majestical, And our vain blows malicious mockery. [Exit Ghost. Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew. Hor. And then it started, like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet of the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, The extravagant and erring* spirit hies To his confine: and of the truth herein This present object made probation +. Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, This bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then they say no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. Hor. So I have heard, and do in part believe it. But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill : Break we our watch up; and, by my advice, Let us impart what we have seen to-night Unto young Hamlet: for, upon my life, This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him: Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, As needful in our loves, fitting our duty? Mar. Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know Where we shall find him most convenient. * Wandering. + Proof. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. A room of state in the same. Enter the King, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, Voltimand, Cornelius, Lords, and Attendants. King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green; and that it us befitted Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature, Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,- Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears Of this his nephew's purpose,-to suppress Farewell: and let your haste commend your duty. And lose your voice: What would'st thou beg, That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? Laer. My dread lord, Your leave and favour to return to France; From whence though willingly I came to Den mark, To show my duty in your coronation; Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France, And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. King. Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave, By laboursome petition; and, at last, • Way, path. King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, And thy best graces: spend it at thy will.- King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you? Ham. Not so, my lord, I am too much i'the sun. Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not, for ever, with thy vailed lids+ Seek for thy noble father in the dust: Thou know'st, 'tis common; all, that live, must die, Ham. Ay, madam, it is common. If it be, Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems, "Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, To give these mourning duties to your father: To do obsequious sorrow: But to perséver * Nature: a little more than a kinsman, and less than a natural Lowering eyes. one. |