is't, my noble lord?
What news, my lord?
O, wonderful!
Good my lord, tell it.
No, you'll reveal it.
Not I, my lord, by heaven.
Nor I, my lord.
How say you then, would heart of man once
think it? —
But you'll be secret?
Ay, by heaven, my lord.
There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark
But he's an arrant knave.
There needs no ghost, my lord, come from
the grave
To tell us this.
Why, right; you are i' the right;
And so, without more circumstance at all,
I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:
You, as your business and desire shall point you, —
For every man hath business and desire,
Such as it is;-and for my own poor part,
Look you, I'll go pray.
These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.
I'm sorry they offend you, heartily;
Yes faith, heartily.
There's no offence, my lord.
Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,
And much offence too. Touching this vision here,
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you.
For your desire to know what is between us,
O'ermaster't as you may. And now, good friends,
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.
What is't, my lord? We will.
Never make known what you have seen tonight.
My lord, we will not.
Nay, but swear't.
In faith, my lord, not I.
Nor I, my lord, in faith.
Upon my sword.
We have sworn, my lord, already.
Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.
[Cries under the stage]
Swear.
Ha, ha boy, sayst thou so? Art thou there,
truepenny?
Come on, you hear this fellow in the cellarage.
Consent to swear.
Propose the oath, my lord.
Never to speak of this that you have seen.
Swear by my sword.
[Beneath]
Swear.
Hic et ubique? Then we'll shift our ground.
Come hither, gentlemen,
And lay your hands again upon my sword.
Never to speak of this that you have heard.
Swear by my sword.
[Beneath]
Swear.
Well said, old mole! Canst work i' th'earth so fast?
A worthy pioner! Once more remove,
good friends.
O day and night, but this is wondrous strange.
And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come,
Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself, —
As I perchance hereafter shall think meet
To put an antic disposition on —
That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As 'Well, we know', or 'We could and if we would',
Or 'If we list to speak'; or 'There be
and if they might',
Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
That you know aught of me:-this not to do.
So grace and mercy at your most need help you,
Swear.
[Beneath]
Swear.
Rest, rest, perturbed spirit. So, gentlemen,
With all my love I do commend me to you;
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
May do t'express his love and friending to you,
God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together,
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
The time is out of joint. O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right.
Nay, come, let's go together.
[Exeunt]
Act II
Scene I
A room in Polonius's house
Enter Polonius and Reynaldo
Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo.
I will, my lord.
You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo,
Before you visit him, to make inquiry
Of his behaviour.
My lord, I did intend it.
Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir,
Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris;
And how, and who, what means, and where
they keep,
What company, at what expense; and finding
By this