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H A M L E T,
PRINCE OF DENMARK.
ACT I. SCENE I.
Elsinore. A Platform before the Castles
FRANCISCO on his post. Enter to him
Ber. Who's there?
Fran. Nay, answer me: stand and unfold Yourself.
Ber. Long live the King!
hour. Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve ; get thee to bed,
Francisco. Fran. For this relief, much thanks : 'tis bilier
cold, And I am sick at heart.
Ber. Have you had quiet guard ?
Fran. Not a mouse stirriug.
Ber. Well, good night. TA you
do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The rivals of my walch, bid them inahe haste.
Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS. Fran. I think, I hear them. Stand, ho!
Who is there?
Alar. And liegemen to the Dane.
Mar. 0, farewell, honest soldier:
Fran. Bernardo hath my place. Give you good night.
[Exit FRANCISCO. Mar. Holla! Bernardo!
Hor. A piece of him.
Mar. Horatio says, 'tis but our fantasy ;
Hor. Tush! tush! 'twill not appear.
Ber. Sit down a while;
What we two nights have seen.
Hor. Well, sit we dowi,
Ber. Last night of all,
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 it, 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 1 charge thee;
speak. Mar. It is offended. Ber. See! it stalks away. Hor. Stay; speak; speak 1 charge thee, speak.
[ Exit Ghost, Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer. Ber. How now, Horatio ? you tremble, and
look pale: Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you of it?
Hor. Before my God, I'might not this be
Without the sensible and true avouch 9
Mar. Is it not like the King ?
Hor. As thou art to thyself: Such was the very armour he had on, When he the ambitions Norway combated; So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, Hle smote the fledded Polack on the ice. 'Tis strange: Mar. Thus, twice before, and jump at this
dead hour, With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. Hor. In what particular thought to work, I
sit down, and tell me, he
Hor. That can I;
Our last King,
Did slay this Fortinbras; who, by a seal'd com
páct , Well ratified by law, and heraldry, Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands, Which he stood seiz'd of, to the conqueror: Against the which, a moiety competent Was gaged by our King; which had return'd To the ivheritance of Fortinbras , Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same,co:
mart, And carriage of the article design'd, His fell to Hamlet: Now, Sir, young Fortinbras, Of unimproved mettle hot and full, Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there, Shark'd up a list of landless resolutes-, For food and diet, to some enterprize That hath a stomach in't: which is no olher (As it doth well appear unto our stale, ) But to recover of us, by strong hand, And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands So by his father Inst: And this, 1 take it, Is the main motive of our preparations ; The source of this our waich; and the chief head Of this post-haste and romage in the land.
[ Ber., I think, it be no other, but even so : Well may it sort, that this portentous figure Comes armed through our walch; so like the King That was , and is, the question of these wars.
Hor. A mote it is, to trouble the inind's eye, In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A lillle ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.
As, stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, Disasters in the sun; and the moist star,