“On Fortinbras. He has my dying voice.
So tell him, with the occurrents more and less, Which have solicited. The rest is silence.
HORATIO. Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest. Why does the drum come hither? [March within.]
Enter Fortinbras, the English Ambassadors and others. FORTINBRAS. Where is this sight? HORATIO. What is it you would see?”