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Tragedies: The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. Romeo and Juliet. Macbeth / Трагедии: Трагедия Гамлета, принца Датского. Ромео и Джульетта. Макбет
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BARNARDO.
Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.
HORATIO.
Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.
BARNARDO
It would be spoke to.
MARCELLUS.
Question it, Horatio.
HORATIO.
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.
MARCELLUS.
It is offended.
BARNARDO.
See, it stalks away.
HORATIO.
Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee speak!
[Exit Ghost.]
MARCELLUS.
’Tis gone, and will not answer.
BARNARDO.
How now, Horatio! You tremble and look pale.
Is not this something more than fantasy?
What think you on’t?
HORATIO.
Before my God, I might not this believe
Without the sensible and true avouch
Of mine own eyes.
MARCELLUS.
Is it not like the King?
HORATIO.
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.
MARCELLUS.
Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
HORATIO.
In what particular thought to work I know not;
But in the gross and scope of my opinion,
This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
MARCELLUS.
Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,
Why this same strict and most observant watch
So nightly toils the subject of the land,
Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.
HORATIO.
Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.
BARNARDO
It would be spoke to.
MARCELLUS.
Question it, Horatio.
HORATIO.
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.
MARCELLUS.
It is offended.
BARNARDO.
See, it stalks away.
HORATIO.
Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee speak!
[Exit Ghost.]
MARCELLUS.
’Tis gone, and will not answer.
BARNARDO.
How now, Horatio! You tremble and look pale.
Is not this something more than fantasy?
What think you on’t?
HORATIO.
Before my God, I might not this believe
Without the sensible and true avouch
Of mine own eyes.
MARCELLUS.
Is it not like the King?
HORATIO.
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.
MARCELLUS.
Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
HORATIO.
In what particular thought to work I know not;
But in the gross and scope of my opinion,
This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
MARCELLUS.
Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,
Why this same strict and most observant watch
So nightly toils the subject of the land,
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