HORATIO. O yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up. 

 HAMLET. What, look’d he frowningly? 

 HORATIO. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. 

 HAMLET. Pale, or red? 

 HORATIO. Nay, very pale. 

 HAMLET. And fix’d his eyes upon you? 

 HORATIO. Most constantly. 

 HAMLET. I would I had been there. 

 HORATIO. It would have much amaz’d you. 

 HAMLET. Very like, very like. Stay’d it long? 

 HORATIO. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. 

 MARCELLUS and BARNARDO. Longer, longer. 

 HORATIO. Not when I saw’t. 

 HAMLET. His beard was grizzled, no? 

 HORATIO. It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver’d. 

 HAMLET. I will watch tonight; Perchance ’twill walk again. 

 HORATIO. I warrant you it will. 

 HAMLET. If it assume my noble father’s person, I’ll speak to it, though hell itself should gape And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, If you have hitherto conceal’d this sight, Let it be tenable in your silence still; And whatsoever else shall hap tonight, Give it an understanding, but no tongue. I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well. Upon the platform ’twixt eleven and twelve, I’ll visit you. 

 ALL. Our duty to your honour. 

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