Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand, This is my daughter's jointure; for no more Can I demand. Mon. But i can give thee more, For I will raife her ftatue in pure gold! Cap. As rich fhall Romeo's by his Lady lie; Prince. A gloomy peace this morning with it brings, The fun for forrow will not fhew his head; Go hence to have more talk of thefe fad things; Some hall be pardon'd, and fome punished. For never was a ftory of more woe, Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. [Exeunt omnes. A platform before the palace. Enter Bernardo and Francisco, two centinels. Ber. W HO's there? Fran. Nay, anfwer me: ftand, and unfold yourself. Ber. Long live the King! Fran. Bernardo ? Ber. He. Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour. Ber. T'is now ftruck twelve; get thee to bed, Fran cifco Fran. For this relief, much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, And I am fick at heart. Ber. Have you had quiet guard? The story is taken from Saxo Grammaticus's Danish history. Fran. Not a mouse stirring. Ber. Well, good night, If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The rivals of * my watch, bid them make haste. Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Fran. I think I hear them, Stand, ho! who is there? Hor. Friends to this ground. Mar. And liege men to the Dane. Fran. Give you good night. Mar. Oh, farewel, honeft foldier; who hath reliev'd you? Fran. Bernardo has my place: give you good night, Mar. Holla! Bernardo, Ber. Say, what, is Horatio there? Hor. A piece of him. [Exit Francifco. [Giving his hand. Ber. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Marcellus. Mar. What, has this thing appear'd again to-night? Ber. I have feen nothing. Mar. Horatio fays, 'tis but our phantasy ; With us, to watch the minutes of this night; And let us once again affail your ears, And let us hear Bernardo fpeak of this. Ber. Last night of all, When yon fame ftar that's weftward from the pole, Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, The bell then beating one, Mar. Peace, break thee off. • rivals, for partners. Enter the Ghoft. Look where it comes again. Ber In the fame figure, like the King that's dead. Ber. Looks it not like the King? mark it, Horatio. Hor. Molt like it harrows me with fear and wonder, Ber. It would be spoke to. : Mar. Speak to it, Horatio. Hor. What art thou that ufurp'ft this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form In which the Majesty of buried Denmark Did fometime march? By Heav'n, Icharge thee fpeak, Mar. It is offended. Ber. See! it stalks away. Hor. Stay; fpeak; I change thee, speak. [Exit Ghoft. Ber. How now, Horatio? you tremble and look pale, Hor. Before my God I might not this believe, Without the fenfible and try'd avouch Of mine own eyes. Mar. Is it not like the King? Hor. As thou art to thyself. Such was the very armour he had on, When he th' ambitious Norway.combated: So frown'd he once, when in an angry parle 'Tis ftrange Mar. Thus twice before, and just at this dead hour, With martial talk, he hath gone by our watch. Hor In what particular thought to work, I know not; But, in the grois and scope of my opinion, This bodes fome ftrange eruption to our ftate. Mar. Good now fit down, and tell me he that knows, Why fuch imprefs of fhipwrights, whofe fore tak What might be toward, that this fweaty hafte Doth make the night joint labourer with the day? Who is't that can inform me ? Hor. That can 1; Did forfeit (with his life) all thofe his lands Had he been vanquisher; as by the fame comart, His fell to Hamlet. Now young Fortinbras, * Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there, For food and diet, to fome enterprife That hath a ftomach in't: which is no other, The fource of this our watch, and the chief head Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. * unimproved. for unrefined, Falmy, for vicious. |