Hamlet Page #3

---

Thrift, thrift, Horatio!

The funeral bak'd meats did coldly

furnish forth the marriage tables.

Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!

My father, methinks I see my father.

Where, my lord?

In my mind's eye, Horatio.

I saw him once; he was a goodly king.

He was a man, take him for all in all,

I shall not look upon his like again.

My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

Saw who?

My lord, the King your father.

For God's love, let me hear.

Two nights together had these gentlemen,

Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,

in the dead vast and middle of the night,

been thus encountered.

A figure like your father,

armed at point exactly, cap--pie,

appears before them,

and with solemn march

goes slow and stately by them.

But where was this?

My lord, upon the platform

where we watch.

- Did you not speak to it?

- My lord, I did, but answer made it none.

'Tis very strange.

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.

Indeed, sirs. But this troubles me.

Hold you the watch tonight?

- We do, my lord.

- Arm'd, say you?

From head to foot.

- Then saw you not his face?

- O yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.

- I would I had been there.

- It would have much amaz'd you.

Very like, very like. Stay'd it long?

While one with moderate haste

might tell a hundred.

- Longer.

- Not when I saw't.

- His beard was grizzl'd, no?

- It was as I have seen it in his life.

A sable silver'd.

I will watch tonight.

Perchance 'twill walk again.

I warrant it will.

My necessaries are embark'd.

And, sister, as the winds

give benefit and convoy is assistant,

do not sleep but let me hear from you.

Do you doubt that?

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.

No more!

- No more but so?

- Think it no more;

he may not, as unvalued persons do,

carve for himself;

for on his choice depends

the safety and health of this whole state.

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 unmast'red importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister.

The chariest maid is prodigal enough

if she unmask her beauty to the moon.

I shall the effect of this good lesson take

as watchman to my heart.

But, good my brother,

do not, as some ungracious pastors do,

show me the steep

and thorny way to heaven,

whiles,

like a puff'd and reckless libertine,

himself the primrose path

of dalliance treads

and recks not his own rede.

O, fear me not.

Yet here, Laertes!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes