It was about to speak, when the cock crew.

'Tis here!

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.

How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale:
Is not this something more than fantasy?
What think you on't?

See, it stalks away!

It would be spoke to.

Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.

In the same figure, like the king that's dead.

Last night of all,
When yond same star that's westward from the pole
Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
The bell then beating one,--

Sit down awhile;
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story
What we have two nights seen.

I have seen nothing.

Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.

Say,
What, is Horatio there?

Well, good night.
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.

Have you had quiet guard?

'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.

He.

Long live the king!

Who's there?