Hor. Tush, tush, 'twill not appeare
Bar. Sit downe a-while,
And let vs once againe assaile your eares,
That are so fortified against our Story,
What we two Nights haue seene
Hor. Well, sit we downe,
And let vs heare Barnardo speake of this
Barn. Last night of all,
When yond same Starre that's Westward from the Pole
Had made his course t' illume that part of Heauen
Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my selfe,
The Bell then beating one
Mar. Peace, breake thee of:
Enter the Ghost.
Looke where it comes againe
Barn. In the same figure, like the King that's dead
Mar. Thou art a Scholler; speake to it Horatio
Barn. Lookes it not like the King? Marke it Horatio
Hora. Most like: It harrowes me with fear & wonder
Barn. It would be spoke too