PERSONS REPRESENTED.

CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark.

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.

OPHELIA, Daughter to Polonius.

Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Players, Grave-diggers, Sailors, Messengers, and other Attendants.

SCENE. Elsinore.

HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK.

ACT I.

SCENE I. Elsinore. A Platform before the Castle.

FRANCISCO on his post. Enter to him, BERNArdo.

Bernard. WHO's there?

Fran.

Yourself.

Nay, answer me; stand, and unfold

Ber. Long live the king

Fran.

Ber.

Bernardo?

Ay.

Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour.

Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco. Fran. For this relief, much thanks; 'tis bitter cold,

And I am sick at heart.

Ber. Have you had quiet guard?
Fran.

Ber. Well, good night.

Not a mouse stirring.

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, ho! Who's there?

Hor. Friends to this ground,

And liegemen to the Dane.

Mar.
Fran. Give you good night.
Mar.

Who hath relieved you?

Fran.

Give you good night.
Mar.

O, farewell, honest soldier;

Bernardo hath my place.
[Exit FRANCISCO.

Holla! Bernardo!

Ber.

What, is Horatio there?

Hor.

Say,

A piece of him.

Ber. Welcome, Horatio; welcome, good Marcellus. Hor. What, has this thing appeared again to-night? Ber. I have seen nothing.

Mar. Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy;

And will not let belief take hold of him,

Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us.
Therefore I have entreated him along

With us to watch the minutes of this night;
That, if again this apparition come,
He may approve our eyes, and speak to it.
Hor. Tush, tush! 'twill not appear.
Ber.

And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.

Hor.

Sit down awhile;

Well, sit we down,

And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.

Ber. Last night of all,

When yon same star, that's westward from the pole,
Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus, and myself,

The bell then beating one,

Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

Enter Ghost.

Ber. In the same figure like the king that's dead.
Mar. Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
Ber. Looks it not like the king? Mark it, Horatio.
Hor. Most like; it harrows me with fear and wonder.
Ber. It would be spoke to.

Mar.

Speak to't, Horatio. Hor. What art thou, that usurp'st this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form.

In which the majesty of buried Denmark

Did sometimes march? By Heaven, I charge thee, speak.

Mar. It is offended.

Ber. See! it stalks away.

Hor. Stay; speak: speak, I charge thee speak.

Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.

[Exit Ghost.

Ber. How now, Horatio? you tremble, and look pale;

Is not this something more than fantasy?

What think you of it?