Hamlet 4

Horatio:

My Lord, the night air is bitter cold

and portends such strange happenings

my nerves are racked with fear.

Hamlet:

Horatio, last night, riding upon the cold and voluptuous waves

I saw my Father, Hamlet.

Horatio:

You must excuse me Lord

but my mind is of a philosophical bent

Although I do not doubt your sincerity

I must confess that your sanity may have unloosened its buttons and bared your fantasies.

Hamlet:

Sweet Horatio, there are more things in this world

than mere philosophy.

Consider this... man comes out of a baby

a baby comes out of woman and on and on...

do we have an infinite amount of people?

Horatio:

such puzzles of numbers are deceiving

and reveal circular reasoning.

Give me the oracular proof of his actual presence.