Dramatis Perfona.

CLAUDIUS, 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. Ophelia, Daughter to Polonius, below'd by Hamlet. Ladies attending on the Queen.

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

HAMLET,

Prince of DENMARK.

ACTI.

SCENE, a Platform before the Palace.

Enter Bernardo and Francisco, 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.

Fraz. You come most carefully upon your hour.

Ber. 'Tis now ftruck twelve; get thee to bed, Francifco.

Fran. For this relief, much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, And I am fick at heart.

Ber. Have you had quiet Guard?

Franc. Not a mouse stirring.

E 4

Ber.

If

Ber. Well, good night.

you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,

The rivals of my Watch, bid them make hafte.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Franc. 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, honest soldier; 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 Francifco,

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 speak 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,
What we have two nights feen.
Hor. Well, fit we down,

And let us hear Bernardo speak 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 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. 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 Majesty 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. [Ex. Ghoft. Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.

Ber. How now, Horatio? you tremble and look pale, Is not this fomething more than phantafie?

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 just at this dead hour, With martial stalk, he hath gone by our Watch.

Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know not: But, in the grofs and scope 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 most observant Watch So nightly toils the Subjects of the Land? And why fuch daily caft of brazen Cannon, And foreign mart for implements of war?

E 5

Why

Why fuch imprefs of fhipwrights, whofe fore task
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 leaft, 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 moft emulate pride)
Dar'd to the fight: In which, our valiant Hamlet,
(For fo this fide of our known world esteem'd him)
Did flay this Fortinbras: who by feal'd compact,
Well ratified by law and heraldry,

Did forfeit (with his life) all thofe his Lands,
Which he flood 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 landless refolutes,
For food and diet, 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 post-hafte and romage in the Land.
Ber. I think, it be no other, but even so:
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 the most high and palmy State of Rome,

A little