once again assail your ears, That are so fortified against our story, What we two nights have seen. Hor. Well, sit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. Ber. 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-

Enter Ghost.

Mar. Peace! break thee off! Look where it comes again! Ber. In the same figure, like the King that's dead. Mar. Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. Ber. Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio. Hor. Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder. Ber. It would be spoke to. Mar. Question it, Horatio. Hor. 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! Mar. It is offended. Ber. See, it stalks away! Hor. Stay! Speak, speak! I charge thee speak!Exit Ghost. Mar. 'Tis gone and will not answer. Ber. How now, Horatio? You tremble and look pale. Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you on't? Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes. Mar. Is it not like the King? Hor. As thou art to thyself. Such was the very armour he had on When he th' ambitious Norway combated. So frown'd he once when, in an angry parle, He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. 'Tis strange. Mar. Thus twice before, and jump a-->>

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