CLAUDIU S, King of Denmark. Fortinbras, Prince of Norway. Hamlet, Son to the former, and Nephew to the present King. Polonius, Lord Chamberlain. Horatio, Friend to Hamlet. Laertes, Son to Polonius. Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, and Mother to Hamlet. Ladies attending on the Queen. Players, Grave-makers, Sailors, Messengers, and other attendants. SCENE ELSINO OR. This Story was not invented by our Author; tho' from ୭ HAMLET, Prince of Denmark. ACT I. SCENE I. An open Place before the palace. Enter Bernardo and Francisco, two centinels. Ber. He. BERNARD 0. HO's there? Fran. Nay, answer me: ftand and unfold your felf. Ber. Long live the King. Fran. Bernardo? Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour. And I am fick at heart. Ber. Have you had quiet guard? Fran. Not a mouse stirring. Ber. Well, good-night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Fran. I think I hear them. Stand; who's there? VOL. VI. X X Hor. Hor. Friends to this ground. Mar. And liege-men to the Dane. Fran. Give you good-night. Mar. Oh farewel, honest foldier; who hath reliev'd you? Fran. Bernardo has my place: give you good-night. Mar. Holla, Bernardo. Ber. Say, what is Horatio there? Hor. A piece of him. [Exit Francisco. Ber. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus. Mar. Horatio fays, 'tis but our phantafie, And will not let belief take hold of him, Touching this dreaded fight, 'twice feen of us; Therefore I have intreated him along With us, to watch the minutes of this night, He may approve our eyes, and speak to it. And let us once again affail your ears, That are so fortified against our story, Hor. Well, fit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. Ber. Last night of all, When yon same star, that's weftward from the pole, Where now it burns, Marcellus and my self, The bell then beating one ---- Mar. Peace, break thee off; Enter Enter the Ghoft. Look where it comes again. Ber. In the fame figure, like the King that's dead. Mar. Speak to it, Horatio. Hor. What art thou that ufurp'ft this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form, In which the majefty of buried Denmark Did sometime march? by Heav'n I charge thee speak. Ber. See! it stalks away. Hor. Stay; fpeak; I charge thee, fpeak. Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer. [Ex. Ghoft. Ber. How now, Horatio? you tremble and look pale. Is not this something more than phantasie? What think you of it? Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe, Without the fenfible and true avouch Of mine own eyes. Mar. Is it not like the King? Hor. As thou art to thy felf. Such was the very armour he had on, When he th' ambitious Norway combated: So frown'd he once, when in an angry parle, 'Tis strange -- a b Mer. Thus twice before, and juft at this dead hour, With martial stalk, hath he gone by our watch. • Pole-axe in the common editions; he speaks of a prince of Poland whom he flew in battle. He uses the word Polack again, act. 2. fcene 4. Xx 2 b fame. Hor. Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know not: But in the grofs and fcope of my opinion, This bodes fome strange eruption to our state. Mar. Good now fit down, and tell me, he that knows, Hor. That can I, At least the whisper goes fo. Our last King, Did forfeit (with his life) all those his lands Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there, For |