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CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark..
Fontinbras, Prince of Norway.

Hamlet, Son to the former, and Nephew to the prefent, King.
Polonius, Lord Chamberlain.

Horatio, Friend to Hamlet.

Laertes, Son to Polonius.

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Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, and Mother to Hamlet.
Ophelia, Daughter to Polonius, belov'd by Hamlet.
Ladies attending on the Queen..

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Players, Grave-makers, Sailors, Messengers, and other Attendants.

SCENE ELSINOOR.

This Story is taken from the Danish History written by
Saxo Grammaticus.

Theobald.

HAM

HAMLET, Prince of Denmark

A C T I. SCENE I

A Platform before the Palace.

Enter Bernardo and Francifco, two Centinels.

W

BERNARDO.

HO's there?

Fran. Nay, anfwer me: ftand and unfold your felf.

Ber. Long live the King!

Fran. Bernardo?

Ber. He.

Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour.
Ber. 'Tis now ftruck twelve, get thee to bed, Francisco.
Fran. For this relief, much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,
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 hafte.

Enter

(a) By rivals of my watch are meant thofe who were to watch upon the next adjoyning ground. Rivals in the original fenfe of the word were proprietors of neighbouring lands parted only by a brook belonging equally to both.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Fran. I think I hear them. Stand, ho! who is there Hor. Friends to this ground.

Mar. And liege-men to the Dane.

Fran. Give you good-night.

Mar. Oh farewel, honeft foldier; who hath reliev'd you? Fran. Bernardo has my place: give you good-night. [Exit Francifco.

Mar. Holla! Bernardo!

Ber. Say, what, is Horatio there?

Hor. A piece of him.

Ber. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Marcellus. Mar. What, has this thing appear'd again to-night? Ber. I have feen nothing.

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,
That if again this apparition come,

He may approve our eyes, and fpeak to it.
Hor. Tufh, tufh, 'twill not appear.
Ber. Sit down a while,

And let us once again affail your ears,
That are fo fortified against our story.

'Mar. What we have two nights feenHor. Well, fit we down,

And let us hear Bernardo fpeak of this.
Ber. Laft night of all,

When yon fame star, that's weftward from the pole,
Had made his course t' illume that part of heav'n
Where now it burns, Marcellus and my felf,

The bell then beating One

Mar. Peace, break thee off;

Enter the Ghoft.

Look where it comes again.

This line is given to Ber. in the old editions.

Ber.

Ber. In the fame figure, like the King that's dead.
Mar. Thou art a fcholar, fpeak to it, Horatio.
Ber. Looks it not like the King? mark it, Horatio.
Hor. Moft like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.
Ber. It would be spoke to.

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. Mar. It is offended.

Ber. See! it ftalks away.

Hor. Stay; fpeak; I charge thee, fpeak. [Exit Ghost. Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.

Ber. How now, Horatio? you tremble and look pale. Is not this fomething 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
He fmote the fleaded Polack on the ice.

'Tis ftrange

Mar. Thus twice before, and juft at this dead hour, With martial ftalk, hath he gone by our watch.

Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know not: But in the grofs and fcope of my opinion,

This bodes fome ftrange eruption to our state.

Mar. Good now fit down, and tell me, he that knows, Why this fame ftrict and moft obfervant watch So nightly toils the fubjects of the land? And why fuch daily caft of brazen cannon, And foreign mart for implements of war?

Why fuch imprefs of shipwrights, whofe fore task

VOL. VI.

X

Does

Does not divide the Sunday from the week?
What might be toward, that this sweaty hafte
Doth make the night joint labourer with the day?
Who is't that can inform me ?

Hor. That can I,

At least the whifper goes fo. Our laft King,
Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
(Thereto prickt on by a most emulate pride)
Dar'd to the fight: in which our valiant Hamlet
(For fo this fide of our known world efteem'd him)
Did flay this Fortinbras: who by feal'd compact,
Well ratified by law of heraldry,

Did forfeit (with his life) all thofe his lands,
Which he ftood feiz'd of, to the Conqueror:
Against the which, a moiety competent
Was gaged by our King; which had return
To the inheritance of Fortinbras,

Had he been vanquisher, as by that cov❜nant
And carriage of the articles defign'd,

His fell to Hamlet. Now young Fortinbras,
Of unimproved mettle hot and full,
Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there,
Shark'd up a lift of landlefs refolutes,
For food and dyet, to fome enterprize
That hath a ftomach in't: which is no other,
As it doth well appear unto our state,
But to recover of us by ftrong hand
And terms compulfative, thofe forefaid lands
So by his father loft: and this, I take it,
Is the main motive of our preparations,

The fource of this our watch, and the chief head
Of this pofte-hafte and romage in the land.
Ber. I think it be no other, but even fo:
Well may it fort that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch fo like the King
That was, and is the queftion of these wars.

Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.

. In

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