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deliver,

With an attent ear, till I

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 waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encountered: a figure like your father.
Arméd at point, exactly, cap-à-pé,

Appears before them, and with solemn march

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Goes slow and stately by them: thrice by walked

By their oppressed and fear-surprised eyes,

Within his truncheon's length; whilst they,

distilled

Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

Stand dumb and speak not to him.

In dreadful secrecy impart they did;

This to me

And I with them the third night kept the watch : Where, as they had delivered, both in time,

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Form of the thing, each word made true and good.
The apparition comes. I knew your father.
These hands are not more like.

Ham.

But where was this?

Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we

watched.

Ham. Did you not speak to it

Hor.

My lord, I did;

But answer made it none; yet once, methought,

It lifted up its 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 vanished from our sight.

Ham.

'Tis very strange.

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Hor. As I do live, my honoured lord, 't is true; And we did think it writ down in our duty, To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs. but this troubles

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Ham.

Then, saw you not his face

Mar., Ber. My lord, from head to foot.

Hor. O yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. Ham. What, looked he frowningly?

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Hor. A countenance more in sorrow than in

anger.

Ham. Pale, or red?

Hor. Nay, very pale.

Ham

And fixed his eyes upon you!

Hor. Most constantly.

Ham.

I would I had been there.

Hor. It would have much amazed you.

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Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, 240 A sable silvered.

Ham.

I will watch to-night :

I warrant it will.

Perchance, 't will walk again.

Hor.

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 concealed 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 well
you
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

All.

Our duty to your honour.

:

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Ham. Your loves; as mine to you: Farewell. [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

eyes.

[Exit

SCENE III.-A Room in the House of POLONIUS.

Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA.

Laer. My necessaries are embarked: farewell; And, sister, as the winds give benefit

And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,

But let me hear from you.

Oph.

Do you doubt that?

Laer. 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.

Oph.
Laer.

No more but so?

Think it no more.

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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 weighed, his will is not his own;
For he himself is subject to his birth:

He may not, as unvalued persons do,

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Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The safety and the health of this whole state;
And therefore must his choice be circumscribed
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 unmastered 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.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon;
Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes,
The canker galls the infants of the spring
Too oft before their buttons be disclosed:

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