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the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,

      And the King's rouse the heaven shall

                               bruit again,

      Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.

      [Exeunt all but Hamlet]

Hamlet

      O that this too too solid flesh would melt,

      Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!

      Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

      His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O God! O God!

      How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable

      Seem to me all the uses of this world!

      Fie on't! Oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden

      That grows to seed; things rank and gross

                               in nature

      Possess it merely. That it should come to this!

      But two months dead-nay, not so much,

                               not two:

      So excellent a king; that was to this

      Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother,

      That he might not beteem the winds of heaven

      Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!

      Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him

      As if increase of appetite had grown

      By what it fed on; and yet, within a month —

      Let me not think on't-Frailty, thy name

                               is woman!

      A little month, or ere those shoes were old

      With which she followed my poor father's body

      Like Niobe, all tears.-Why she, even she —

      O God! A beast that wants discourse of reason

      Would have mourn'd longer, – married

                               with mine uncle,

      My father's brother; but no more like my father

      Than I to Hercules. Within a month,

      Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

      Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,

      She married. O most wicked speed, to post

      With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

      It is not, nor it cannot come to good.

      But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

      [Enter Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo]

Horatio

      Hail to your lordship!

Hamlet

      I am glad to see you well:

      Horatio, or I do forget myself.

Horatio

      The same, my lord,

      And your poor servant ever.

Hamlet

      Sir, my good friend;

      I'll change that name with you:

      And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?

                               Marcellus?

Marcellus

      My good lord.

Hamlet

      I am very glad to see you.-Good even, sir. —

      But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

Horatio

      A truant disposition, good my lord.

Hamlet

      I would not hear your enemy say so;

      Nor shall you do my ear that violence,

      To make it truster of your own report

      Against yourself. I know you are no truant.

      But what is your affair in Elsinore?

      We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Horatio

      My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

Hamlet

      I prithee do not mock me, fellow-student.

      I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

Horatio

      Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

Hamlet

      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.

Horatio

      Where, my lord?

Hamlet

      In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Horatio

      I saw him once; he was a goodly king.

Hamlet

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

      I shall not look upon his like again.

Horatio

      My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

Hamlet

      Saw? Who?

Horatio

      My lord, the King your father.

Hamlet

      The King my father!

Horatio

      Season your admiration for a while

      With an attent ear, till I may deliver

      Upon the witness of these gentlemen

      This marvel to you.

Hamlet

      For God's love let me hear.

Horatio

      Two nights together had these gentlemen,

      Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch

      In the dead waste and middle of the night,

      Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,

      Armed at point exactly, cap-à-pie,

      Appears before them, and with solemn march

      Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd

      By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,

      Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'd

      Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

      Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me

      In dreadful secrecy impart they did,

      And I with them the third night kept the watch,

      Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,

      Form of the thing, each word made true and good,

      The apparition comes. I knew your father;

      These hands are not more like.

Hamlet

      But where was this?

Marcellus

      My lord, upon the platform where we watch.

Hamlet

      Did you not speak to it?

Horatio

      My lord, I did;

      But answer made it none: yet once methought

      It lifted up it head, and did address

      Itself to motion, like as it would speak.

      But even then the morning cock crew loud,

      And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,

      And

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