Hamlet

Ham. I pray thee doe not mock me (fellow Student) I thinke it was to see my Mothers Wedding Hor. Indeed my Lord, it followed hard vpon Ham. Thrift thrift Horatio: the Funerall Bakt-meats Did coldly furnish forth the Marriage Tables; Would I had met my dearest foe in heauen, Ere I had euer seene that day Horatio. My father, me thinkes I see my father Hor. Oh where my Lord? Ham. In my minds eye (Horatio) Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly King Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all: I shall not look vpon his like againe Hor. My Lord, I thinke I saw him yesternight Ham. Saw? Who? Hor. My Lord, the King your Father Ham. The King my Father? Hor. Season your admiration for a while With an attent eare; till I may deliuer Vpon the witnesse of these Gentlemen, This maruell to you Ham. For Heauens loue let me heare Hor. Two nights together, had these Gentlemen (Marcellus and Barnardo) on their Watch In the dead wast and middle of the night Beene thus encountred. A figure like your Father, Arm'd at all points exactly, Cap a Pe, Appeares before them, and with sollemne march Goes slow and stately: By them thrice he walkt, By their opprest and feare-surprized eyes, Within his Truncheons length; whilst they bestil'd Almost to Ielly with the Act of feare, Stand dumbe and speake not to him. This to me In dreadfull secrecie impart they did, And I with them the third Night kept the Watch, Whereas they had deliuer'd both in time, Forme 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 vpon the platforme where we watcht Ham. Did you not speake to it? Hor. My Lord, I did; But answere made it none: yet once me thought It lifted vp it head, and did addresse It selfe to motion, like as it would speake: But euen then, the Morning Cocke crew lowd; And at the sound it shrunke in hast away, And vanisht from our sight Ham. Tis very strange Hor. As I doe liue my honourd Lord 'tis true; And we did thinke it writ downe in our duty To let you know of it Ham. Indeed, indeed Sirs; but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to Night? Both. We doe my Lord Ham. Arm'd, say you? Both. Arm'd, my Lord Ham. From top to toe? Both. My Lord, from head to foote Ham. Then saw you not his face? Hor. O yes, my Lord, he wore his Beauer vp Ham. What, lookt he frowningly? Hor. A countenance more in sorrow then in anger Ham. Pale, or red? Hor. Nay very pale Ham. And fixt his eyes vpon you? Hor. Most constantly Ham. I would I had beene there Hor. It would haue much amaz'd you Ham. Very like, very like: staid it long? Hor. While one with moderate hast might tell a hundred All. Longer, longer Hor. Not when I saw't Ham. His Beard was grisly? no Hor. It was, as I haue seene it in his life, A Sable Siluer'd Ham. Ile watch to Night; perchance 'twill wake againe Hor. I warrant you it will Ham. If it assume my noble Fathers person, Ile speake to it, though Hell it selfe should gape And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, If you haue hitherto conceald this sight; Let it bee treble in your silence still: And whatsoeuer els shall hap to night, Giue it an vnderstanding but no tongue; I will requite your loues; so fare ye well: Vpon the Platforme twixt eleuen and twelue, Ile visit you All. Our duty to your Honour. Exeunt Ham. Your loue, as mine to you: farewell. My Fathers Spirit in Armes? All is not well: I doubt some foule play: would the Night were come; Till then sit still my soule; foule deeds will rise, Though all the earth orewhelm them to mens eies. Enter. Scena Tertia Enter Laertes and Ophelia. Laer. My necessaries are imbark't; Farewell: And Sister, as the Winds giue Benefit, And Conuoy is assistant; doe not sleepe, But let me heare from you Ophel. Doe you doubt that? Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his fauours, Hold it a fashion and a toy in Bloude; A Violet in the youth of Primy Nature; Froward, not permanent; sweet not lasting The suppliance of a minute? No more Ophel. No more but so Laer. Thinke it no more: For nature cressant does not grow alone, In thewes and Bulke: but as his Temple waxes, The inward seruice of the Minde and Soule Growes wide withall. Perhaps he loues you now, And now no soyle nor cautell doth besmerch The vertue of his feare: but you must feare His greatnesse weigh'd, his will is not his owne; For hee himselfe is subiect to his Birth: Hee may not, as vnuallued persons doe, Carue for himselfe; for, on his choyce depends The sanctity and health of the whole State. And therefore must his choyce be circumscrib'd Vnto the voyce and yeelding of that Body, Whereof he is the Head. Then if he sayes he loues you, It fits your wisedome so farre to beleeue it; As he in his peculiar Sect and force May giue his saying deed: which is no further, Then the maine voyce of Denmarke goes withall. Then weight what losse your Honour may sustaine, If with too credent eare you list his Songs; Or lose your Heart; or your chast Treasure open To his vnmastred importunity. Feare it Ophelia, feare it my deare Sister, And keepe within the reare of your Affection; Out of the shot and danger of Desire. The chariest Maid is Prodigall enough, If she vnmaske her beauty to the Moone: Vertue it selfe scapes not calumnious stroakes, The Canker Galls, the Infants of the Spring Too oft before the buttons be disclos'd, And in the Morne and liquid dew of Youth, Contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary then, best safety lies in feare; Youth to it selfe rebels, though none else neere