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That hath a stomake in't, which no other
As it doth well appeare vnto our state
But to recouer of vs by strong hand
And tearmes compulsatory, those foresaid lands
So by his father lot; and this I take it,
Is the maine motiue of our preparations
The fource of this our watch, and the chcefe head
Of this post-hast and romeage in the land.

Bar. I thinke it be no other but euen jot;
Well may it fort that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch fo like the king
That was and is the question of these warres.

Hora. A moth it is to trouble the mindes eye :
In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
A little ere the mightiest Iulius fell
The graues stood tennantiere, and I the sheeted dead
Did squeake and gibber in the Romane streets
As starres with traines of fire, and dewes of bloud
Disasters in the funne; and the moist starre,
Vpon whose influence Neptunes empier stands,
Was sick almost to doomesday with eclipse.
And euen the like precurse of fearce euents
As harbingers preceading still the fates
And prologue to the omen comming on
Haue heauen and earth together demonstrated
Voto our climatures and contrimen.

Enter Ghost.

But soft, behold, lo where it comes againe
Ile crosse it though it blast mee : stay illusion,

It spreads his armes.
If thou hast any found or vse of voice,
Speake to mee, if there be any good thing to bee done

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That may to thee doe ease and grace to mee,
Speake to mee.
If thou art priuy to thy contryes fate
Which happily foreknowing may auoyd,
O speake :
Or if thou hast vphoorded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the wombe of earth,
For which they say your fpirits oft walke in death.

The cock crowes. Speake of it, stay and speake, stop it Marcellus.

Mar. Shall I strike it with my partizan ?
Hor. Doe if it will not stand.
Bar. Tis heere.
Hor. Tis heere.

Mar. Tis gone,
We doe it wrong being so maiesticall
To offer it the showe of violence,
For it is as the ayre invulnerable,
And our vaine blowes malicious mockery.

Bar. It was about to speake when the cock crew :

Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing,
Vpon a fearefull summons; I baue heard,
The cock that is the trumpet to the morne
Doth with his lofty and fhrill sounding throate
Awake the god of day, and at his warning
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or ayre,
Th'extrauagant and erring fpirit hyes
To his confine and of the truth heerein
This present obiect made probation.

Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock.
Some say that euer gainst that season comes,
Wherein our Sauiours birth is celebrated
This bird of dawning fingeth all night long,


And then they say no spirit dare* sturre abroade
The nights are wholsome, then no plannets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charme
So hallowed and so gratious is that time.

Hor. So haue I heard and doe in part beleeue it,
But looke the morne in ruslet mantle clad
Walkes ore the dew of yon high eastward hill :
Breake wee our watch vp and by my aduise
Let vs impart what wee haue seen to night
Vito yong Hamlet, for vpon my life
This spirit dumb to vs, will speake to him :
Doe you consent wee shall acquaint him with it
As needfull in our loues fitting our duety.

Mar. Lets doo't I pray, and I this morning know
Where wee shall find him most conuenient. Exeunt.

Flourish. Enter Claudius, king of Denmarke, Gertrad the

queene, counsaile : as Polonius, and his sonne Laertes, Hamlet cum aliis.

Claud. Though yet of Hamlet our deare brothers death
The memory bce greene, and that it vs befitted
To beare our hearts in greefe and our whole kingdome,
To be contracted in one browe of woe,
Yet so farre hath discretion fought with nature,
That wee with wiseft forrow thinke on him
Together with remembrance of ourselues :
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queene
Th’imperiall ioyntresse to this warlike state
Haue wee as twere with a defeated ioy
With an aufpitious, and a dropping eye,
With mirth in funerall, and with dirge in mariage
In equall scale waighing delight and dole



Taken to wife : nor haue wee herein bard
Your better wisdomes, which haue freely gone
With this affaire along (for all our thankes)
Now followes that you know yong Fortinbrasse,
Holding a weake supposall of our worth
Or thinking by our late deare brothers death
Our state to bee disioynt, and out of frame
Colegued with this dreame of his aduantage
Hee hath not faild to pester vs with message
Importing the surrender of those lands
Loft by his father, with all bands of law
To our most valiant brother, so much for him.
Now for our selfe, and for this time of meeting,
Thus much the busines is, we haue here writ
To Norway vncle of young Fortenbrasle
Who impotent and bedred scarcely heares
Of this his nephewes purpose ; to suppresse
His further gate heerein, in that the leuies,
The lists, and full proportions are all made
Out of his subiect *' and we heere dispatch
You good Cornelius, and you Valtemand,
For + bearers of this greeting to old Norway,
Giuing to you no further personall power
To busines with the king, more then the scope
Of these delated articles allow :
Farwell, and let your haft commend your duty.

Cor. Vo. In that and all things will we show our duty.

Kin. We doubt it nothing, hartely farwell. And now Laertes whats the newes with you? You told vs of some fute, what ist Laertes ? You cannot speake of reason to the Dane And lose your voyce ; what would'st thou begge Laertes ?

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That shall not be my offer, not thy asking,
The head is not more natiue to the heart
The hand more instrumentall to the mouth
Then is the throne of Denmarke to thy father,
What would'st thou haue Laertes ?

Lar. My dread lord.
Your leaue and fauour to returne to France,
From whence though willingly I came to Denmarke,
To show my duty in your coronation;
Yet now I must confesse, that duty done
My thoughts and wishes bend againe toward France.
And bow them to your gracious leaue and pardon.

King. Haue you your fathers leaue, what faies Polonius ?

Polo. He hath my lord wrung from me my Now leaue
By laboursome petition, and at last
Vpon his will I seald my hard consent,
I doe beseech you giue him leave to goe.

King. Take thy faire houre Laertes, time be thine,
And thy best graces spend it at thy will:
But now my cofin Hamlet, and my sonne.

Ham. A little more then kin, and lese then kinde.
King. How is it that the clowdes still hang on you.
Ham. Not so much my lord, I am too much in the sonne,

Queene. Good Hamlet cast thy nighted colour off
And let thine eye looke like a friend on Denmarke,
Doe not for euer with thy vailed lids,
Seeke for thy noble father in the dust,
Thou know'st tis common all that liues must dye,
Passing through nature to eternitie.

Ham. I Maddam, it is common.

Quee. If it bee
Why seemes it so perticuler with thee.

Ham. Seemes maddam, nay it is, I know not seemes,
Tis not alone my incky cloake could fmother *,

cooid mother. YOL. IV.



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