Mar. 
It faded on the crowing of the cock. 
Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long;
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad;
The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm;
So hallow’d and so gracious is the time.

Hor. 
So have I heard, and do in part believe it. 
But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward hill: 
Break we our watch up:  and by my advice,
Let us impart what we have seen to-night
Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,
This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him: 
Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?

Mar. 
Let’s do’t, I pray; and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently.

[Exeunt.]

Scene II.  Elsinore.  A room of state in the Castle.

[Enter the King, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, Voltimand, Cornelius, Lords, and Attendant.]

King. 
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother’s death
The memory be green, and that it us befitted
To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
To be contracted in one brow of woe;
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
That we with wisest sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves. 
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
Th’ imperial jointress to this warlike state,
Have we, as ’twere with a defeated joy,—­
With an auspicious and one dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole,—­
Taken to wife; nor have we herein barr’d
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along:—­or all, our thanks. 
Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
Or thinking by our late dear brother’s death
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail’d to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,
To our most valiant brother.  So much for him,—­
Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: 
Thus much the business is:—­we have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,—­
Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew’s purpose,—­to suppress
His further gait herein; in that the levies,
The lists, and full proportions are all made
Out of his subject:—­and we here dispatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
Giving to you no further personal power
To business with the king, more than the scope
Of these dilated articles allow. 
Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty.