I think it be no other but e'en so:

Well may it sort that this portentous figure

Comes armed through our watch so like the

King

That was and is the question of these wars.

A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.

In the most high and palmy state of Rome,

A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,

The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead

Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets;

As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,

Disasters in the sun; and the moist star,

Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands,

Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.

And even the like precurse of fierce events,

As harbingers preceding still the fates

And prologue to the omen coming on,

Have heaven and earth together demonstrated

Unto our climatures and countrymen.

[Re-enter Ghost]

But, soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again!

I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!

If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,

Speak to me.

If there be any good thing to be done,

That may to thee do ease, and grace to me,

Speak to me.

If thou art privy to thy country's fate,

Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,

O speak!

Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life

Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,

For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,

Speak of it. Stay, and speak!

[The cock crows]

Stop it, Marcellus!

Shall I strike at it with my partisan?

Do, if it will not stand.

'Tis here!

'Tis here!

[Exit Ghost]

'Tis gone!

We do it wrong, being so majestical,

To offer it the show of violence,

For it is as the air, invulnerable,

And our vain blows malicious mockery.

It was about to speak, when the cock crew.

And then it started, like a guilty thing

Upon a fearful summons. I have heard

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,

Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat

Awake the god of day; and at his warning,

Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,

Th'extravagant and erring spirit hies

To his confine. And of the truth herein

This present object made probation.

It faded on the crowing of the cock.

Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes

Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,

The bird of dawning singeth all night long;

And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,

The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike,

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm;

So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

So have I heard, and do in part believe it.

But look, the morn in russet mantle clad,

Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill.

Break we our watch up, and by my advice,

Let us impart what we have seen tonight

Unto young Hamlet; for upon my life,

This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.

Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,

As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?

Let's do't, I pray, and I this morning know

Where we shall find him most conveniently.

[Exeunt]