Against yourself: I know, you are no truant, Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. dent; Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. meats 6 Where, Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio. Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all, Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. The king my father! ear; till I may deliver, For God's love, let me hear. Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen, . It was anciently the custom to give a cold entertainment at a funeral. 7 Chiefest. 8 Attentive. Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, But where was this? watch'd. My lord, I did; 'Tis very strange, Hor. 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. Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hor. Hold you the watch to-night? We do, my lord. Arm'd, my lord. From top to toe ? All. My lord, from head to foot. Ham. Then saw you not His face. Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. A countenance more Pale, or red? And fix'd his eyes upon you? I would, I had been there, Hor. It would have much amaz'd you. Ham. Very like, hundred. His beard was grizzl'd ? no ? I will watch to-night; I warrant, it will. 9 That part of the helmet which may be lifted up. I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape, your silence still; And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, Give it an understanding, but no tongue; I will requite your loves: So, fare you well : Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, I'll visit you. All. Our duty to your honour. Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: Farewell. [Exeunt HORATIO, MARCELUS, and BERNARDO. My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; I doubt some foul play: 'would, the night we 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 Polonius' House. Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA. Laer. 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. 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 pérfume and suppliance of a minute; Oph. No more but so? Think it no more: you, goes withal. list( his songs; 1 Increasing. 2 Sinews. 3 Subtlety, deceit. 4 Discolour. 5 Believing. 6 Listen to. 7 Licentious. |