Elsinore. A platform before the castle.
For this relief much thanks: ’tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart.
Well, good night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
O, farewell, honest soldier: Who hath relieved you?
Bernardo has my place. Give you good night. Exit.
Say, What, is Horatio there?