MARCELLUS   Peace, break thee off, look where it comes again.

BARNARDO    In the same figure like the King that’s dead.

MARCELLUS   Thou art a scholar – speak to it, Horatio.

BARNARDO    Looks ’a not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.

HORATIO        Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.

BARNARDO    It would be spoke to.

MARCELLUS                                       Speak to it, Horatio.   (1.1.39-44)

So, Enter Ghost—from where, of course, is up to the choices made by a production, and their resources. Crucially, Barnardo hasn’t got as far in his account when the Ghost appears; he hasn’t said where the Ghost has previously appeared, let alone what it looks like, what kind of Thing it is—it’s just—there, so that Marcellus (who has perhaps been even jumpier than Barnardo, looking around as his companion starts to tell the story) has to interrupt. That story’s now redundant: peace, break thee off, shhhhhhh! Look where it comes again! It’s there! It’s here! And in the same figure like the King that’s dead—that’s the most urgent thing, the key fact that he hadn’t quite got to. The King is dead! First we’ve heard of it. But this is, apparently, his ghost, it looks just like him. (The audience’s attention is mostly going to be fixed on Horatio and Barnardo–so the Ghost’s appearance can be shocking to them too.)

Marcellus has an idea, perhaps this was their idea all along, bring along the academic, academics know what to do in all circumstances, including conversing with ghosts, apparently. What are you working on at the moment? mostly, don’t ask about the book… Thou art a scholar—speak to it, Horatio. (Is this the very first instance of Is There A Doctor In The House? Or indeed on the plane? They now ask you if you’re a *medical* doctor…) At least academics (who might be presumed to be studying theology at this date) might reasonably be expected to know what to say to ghosts? Horatio’s keeping quiet, though, struck dumb, perhaps embarrassed, slightly guilty that he didn’t believe these palpably honest and very frightened men.

Looks ’a not like the King? The King, still, not the late king—so this is a recent royal death? He’s still instantly recognisable, apparently, mark it, Horatio. Look, take note. Most like, agrees Horatio. It harrows me with fear and wonder. I’m gripped with fear, properly terrified—there’s a violence to harrowing—but also amazed, confused. It’s broad daylight on the stage, there’s no dry ice, no blackout and spooky lighting, no reverb. Horatio’s doing the emotional effects for the audience, modelling just what a big deal this is. Be fearful, be filled with wonder! (Be filled with fear and trembling; this isn’t just scary, this is spiritual crisis.) It would be spoke to: some gesture from the Ghost, perhaps, or just the assumption that it wants to talk? So, again, speak to it, Horatio! Please!