Elsinore. A platform before the Castle
Enter Francisco and Barnardo, two sentinels
Barnardo
Who's there?
Francisco
Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.
Barnardo
Long live the King!
Francisco
Barnardo?
Barnardo
He.
Francisco
You come most carefully upon your hour.
Barnardo
'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.
Francisco
For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart.
Barnardo
Have you had quiet guard?
Francisco
Not a mouse stirring.
Barnardo
Well, good night.
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
[Enter Horatio and Marcellus]
Francisco
I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who is there?
Horatio
Friends to this ground.
Marcellus
And liegemen to the Dane.
Francisco
Give you good night.
Marcellus
O, farewell, honest soldier, who hath reliev'd you?
Francisco
Barnardo has my place. Give you good-night.
[Exit]
Marcellus
Holla, Barnardo!
Barnardo
Say, what, is Horatio there?
Horatio
A piece of him.
Barnardo
Welcome, Horatio. Welcome, good Marcellus.
Marcellus
What, has this thing appear'd again tonight?
Barnardo
I have seen nothing.
Marcellus
Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy,
And will not let belief take hold of him
Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us.
Therefore I have entreated him along
With us to watch the minutes of this night,
That if again this apparition come
He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
Horatio
Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.
Barnardo
Sit down awhile,
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.
Horatio
Well, sit we down,
And let us hear Barnardo speak of this.
Barnardo
Last night of all,
When yond same star that's westward from
the pole,
Had made his course t'illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
The bell then beating one —
Marcellus
Peace, break thee off. Look where it comes again.
[Enter Ghost]
Barnardo
In the same figure, like the King that's dead.
Marcellus
Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
Barnardo
Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.
Horatio
Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.
Barnardo
It would be spoke to.
Marcellus
Question it, Horatio.
Horatio
What art thou that usurp'st this time of night,
Together with that fair and warlike form
In which the majesty of buried Denmark
Did sometimes march? By heaven I charge
thee speak.
Marcellus
It is offended.
Barnardo
See, it stalks away.
Horatio
Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee speak!
[Exit Ghost]