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MARCELLUS: ’Tis gone and will not answer. BERNARDO: How now, Horatio! You tremble and look pale. Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you on’t? 55 HORATIO: Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible6 and true avouch Of mine own eyes. MARCELLUS: It is not like the king? HORATIO: As thou art to thyself. Such was the very armor he had on 60 When he the ambitious Norway combated. So frowned he once when, in an angry parle,7 He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.