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