This Copy has been collated with the following Editions. 1605. I. R. for N. L. 1637. R. Young, for Iohn Smethwicke No date. W. S. for Iohn Smethwicke. Bar. Long liue the king. Fran. Barnardo. Bar. Hee. Stand and vnfold you Fran. You come most carefully vpon your houre. Bar. Tis now ftrooke twelue, get thee to bed Francifco. And I am fick at heart. If Bar. Haue you had quiet guard? Fran. Not a mouse stirring. Bar. Well, good night: you doe meete Horatio and Marcellus The riuals of my watch, bid them make haft. • who's Enter Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Fran. I thinke I heare them, ftand ho, who is there? Hor. Friends to this ground. Mar. And leegemen to the Dane. Fran. Giue you good night. Mar. O, farewell honeft fouldiers, who hath relieu'd you? Fran. Bernardo hath my place; giue you good night. Mar. Holla, Barnardo. Bar. Say what is Horatio there? Hora. A peece of him. Exit Fran. Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus, * Mar. Horatio fayes tis but a fantasie, And will not let beleefe take hold of him, Touching this dreaded fight twice feene of vs, Therefore I haue intreated him along, With vs to watch the minuts of this night, Hee may approue our eyes and speake to it. And let vs once againe affaile your eares, Hor. Well fit wee downe, And let vs heare Barnardo fpeake of this. Bar. Laft night of all, When yond fame ftarre thats weftward from the pole; Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my felfe The bell then beating one. Enter Ghost. Mar. Peace, breake thee off looke where it comes againe, Bar. In the fame figure like the king thats dead. Mar. Thou art a scholler speake to it Horatio. Hora. Most like, it horrowes me with feare and wonder. Bar. It would be spoke to. Mar. Speake to it Horatio. Hora. What art thou that vfurpft this time of night, Together with that faire and warlike forme, In which the maiefty of buried Denmarke Did fometimes march: by heauen I charge the speake. Bar. See it ftaukes away. Hora. Stay, fpeake, fpeake I charge thee speake. Ma. Tis gone and will not answere. Exit Ghoft. Bar. How now Horatio, you tremble and looke pale, Is not this fomething more then phantafie? What thinke you of it * ? Hora. Before my God I might not this beleeue, Without the fencible and true auouch Of mine owne eyes. Mar. Is it not like the king? Hora. As thou art to thy felfe: Hee fmote the fleaded pollax on the ice. Mar. Thus twice before and iump at this dead + houre, With martiall ftauke hath hee gone by our watch. Hora. In what perticular thought, to worke I know not, But in the groffe and fcope of mine opinion, This bodes fome strange eruption to our state. Mar. Good now fit downe, and tell me hee that knowes, Why this fame ftrict and moft obferuant watch So nightly toyles the fubiect of the land, And with fuch dayly coft of brazen cannon And forraine marte for implements of warre, Hora. That can I. At least the whifper goes fo, our last king, Dar'd to the combate; in which our valiant Hamlet, Did forfait (with his life) all these his lands Was gaged by our king, which had returne Had hee beene vanquisher +; as by the fame comart, And carriage of the articles defeigne, His fell to Hamlet; now fir, young Fortinbraffe Of vnimprooued mettle, hot and full, Hath in the skirts of Norway heere and there For food and diet to fome enterprise * labour. † vanqusb`d. That |