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Horatio: But soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again! I'll cross it though it blast me.--Stay, illusion!
Horatio: If thou hast any sound or use of voice, Speak to me. If there be any good thing to be done.
Hamlet: “Seems,” madam? Nay, it is. I know not “seems.”'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forced breath
Gertrude: Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not forever with thy vailèd lids, Seek for thy noble father in the dust. Thou know’st ’tis common. All that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
Hamlet: I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
Gertrude: Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet. I pray thee, stay with us. Go not to Wittenberg.
Horatio: The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
Hamlet: I am glad to see you well.— Horatio? Or I do forget myself?
Marcellus: My good lord!
Hamlet: Sir, my good friend, I’ll change that name with you. And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio-Marcellus!
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