MARCELLUS   Horatio says ’tis but our fantasy

And will not let belief take hold of him

Touching this dreaded sight twice seen of us.

Therefore I have entreated him along

With us to watch the minutes of this night

That, if again this apparition come,

He may approve our eyes and speak to it.

HORATIO        Tush, tush, ’twill not appear.             (1.1.21-28)

Marcellus is filling in his mate Barnardo as to what Horatio thinks about all of—this—this as yet unspecified Thing. And Horatio is apparently a sceptic: Horatio says ’tis but our fantasy, that we’re dreaming, imagining things—even making it up! He will not let belief take hold of him touching this dreaded sight twice seen of us. He doesn’t believe us! He’s not prepared to believe in the—thing—this dreaded sight—the scary thing we’ve seen! Horatio stands for Reason. But we’ve seen it twice now, the Thing—it’s not like we’ve run crying to him straight away, it’s been twice! Therefore I have entreated him along—asked, but also begged a bit, asked really politely, even though he’s maybe scoffing at us—with us to watch the minutes of this night that, if again this apparition come, he may approve our eyes and speak to it. It’s all coming out in a rush now, fuelled by Marcellus’s fear, the courage it’s taken to ask Horatio to come out with them, these ordinary soldiers, in the middle of the night (it’s irregular, he’s gone out on a limb, maybe even gone over his superiors’ heads—and who’s Horatio anyway, why ask him in particular?) No one’s been listening to them, perhaps, and they’re really frightened, and worried—about what all this could mean (and Marcellus still hasn’t said what this apparition IS)—and also worried that maybe they’re going mad, Seeing Things. First of all they need Horatio to say, yes, I can see it too, approve our eyes—the implication is partly, and other people might listen to him and believe him, because they haven’t listened to us! He’ll back us up! And also—he could speak to it. That’s the next level; he’d know what to say, he’d have the confidence to do so. (But speak to what? It’s still not clear. This thing.)

Horatio’s brusque, perhaps trying to be cheerful, reassuring, or perhaps properly dismissive, even grouchy (it is the middle of the night, it is very cold): tush, tush, ’twill not appear. Nothing’s going to happen, just you wait. It’s all a big fuss about nothing, boys.

The SUSPENSE! because they STILL haven’t said anything about what the thing, the apparition might be, and so the audience too are watching and waiting…