Page:Hamlet - The Arden Shakespeare - 1899.djvu/39

 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?