Summary, Analysis, and Original Text by Scene

Act I: Scene 4

Scene IV. The platform.

[Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.]

HAMLET.
The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.

HORATIO.
It is a nipping and an eager air.

HAMLET.
What hour now?

HORATIO.
I think it lacks of twelve.

MARCELLUS.
No, it is struck.

HORATIO.
Indeed? I heard it not: then draws near the season
Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.

[A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off within.]

What does this mean, my lord?

Read the Original Text: 1 2 3 4 5 6
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