SCENE: _Denmark_[B].
[A] DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.] First given by Rowe.
[B] Denmark] Edd. (Globe ed.) Elsinoor. Rowe.
THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET PRINCE OF DENMARK.
ACT I.
SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle.
FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO.[1]
Ber. Who's there?[2][3]
Fran. Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.[3]
Ber. Long live the king![3]
Fran. Bernardo?[3][4]
Ber. He.[3] 5
Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour.[5]
Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.[6]
Fran. For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart.
Ber. Have you had quiet guard?
Fran. Not a mouse stirring. 10
Ber. Well, good night.[7] If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,[7][8] The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.[7][8]
Fran. I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who is there?[9]
Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
Hor. Friends to this ground.
Mar. And liegemen to the Dane. 15
Fran. Give you good night.[10]
Mar. O, farewell, honest soldier:[11][12] Who hath relieved you?[13]
Fran. Bernardo hath my place.[13] Give you good night. [_Exit._[10][13]
Mar. Holla! Bernardo!
Ber. Say,[14][15] What, is Horatio there?[14]
Hor. A piece of him.[16]
Ber. Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus. 20
Mar. What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?[17]
Ber. I have seen nothing.
Mar. Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy,[18] And will not let belief take hold of him Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us:[19] 25 Therefore I have entreated him along[20] With us to watch the minutes of this night,[20] That if again this apparition come, He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
Hor. Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.
Ber. Sit down awhile;[21] 30 And let us once again assail your ears, That are so fortified against our story,[22] What we have two nights seen.[22][23]
Hor. Well, sit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
Ber. Last night of all, 35 When yond same star that's westward from the pole[24] Had made his course to illume that part of heaven[25] Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, The bell then beating one,--[26]
Enter Ghost.
Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again![27] 40
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.[28]
Hor. Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.[29]
Ber. It would be spoke to.
Mar. Question it, Horatio.[30] 45
Hor. What art thou, that usurp'st this time of night,[31] Together with that fair and warlike form In which the majesty of buried Denmark Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak![32]
Mar. It is offended.
Ber. See, it stalks away! 50
Hor. Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak![33]
[_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 on't?[34] 55
Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe[35] Without the sensible and true avouch[36] Of mine own eyes.
Mar. Is it not like the king?
Hor. As thou art to thyself: Such was the very armour he had on[37] 60 When he the ambitious Norway combated;[38] So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.[39] 'Tis strange.[40]
Mar. Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,[41] 65 With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.[42]
Hor. In what particular thought to work I know not;[43] But, in the gross and scope of my opinion,[44] This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
Mar. Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,[45] 70 Why this same strict and most observant watch So nightly toils the subject of the land,[46] And why such daily cast of brazen cannon,[47] And foreign mart for implements of war; Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task 75 Does not divide the Sunday from the week;[48] What might be toward, that this sweaty haste Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day:[49] Who is't that can inform me?
Hor. That can I; At least the whisper goes so. Our last king, 80 Whose image even but now appear'd to us, Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,[50] Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet--[51] For so this side of our known world esteem'd him-- 85 Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact,[52] Well ratified by law and heraldry,[53] Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands[54] Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror:[55] Against the which, a moiety competent 90 Was gaged by our king; which had return'd[56] To the inheritance of Fortinbras, Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant[57] And carriage of the article design'd,[58] His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,[59] 95 Of unimproved mettle hot and full,[60] Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,[61][62] For food and diet, to some enterprise[62] That hath a stomach in't: which is no other--[63] 100 As it doth well appear unto our state--[64] But to recover of us, by strong hand And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands[65] So by his father lost: and this, I take it, Is the main motive of our preparations, 105 The source of this our watch and the chief head Of this post-haste and romage in the land.
Ber. I think it be no other but e'en so:[66][67] Well may it sort, that this portentous figure[66] Comes armed through our watch, so like the king[66] 110 That was and is the question of these wars.[66]
Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.[66][68] In the most high and palmy state of Rome,[66][69] A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,[66] The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead[66][70] 115 Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets:[66][71] . . . . . . . As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,[66][72][73] Disasters in the sun; and the moist star,[66][74][73] Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands,[66] Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:[66] 120 And even the like precurse of fierce events,[66][75] As harbingers preceding still the fates[66][76] And prologue to the omen coming on,[66][77] Have heaven and earth together demonstrated[66] Unto our climatures and countrymen.[66][78] 125
Re-enter Ghost.
But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again! I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion![79] If thou hast any sound, or use of voice, Speak to me:[80] If there be any good thing to be done,[80] 130 That may to thee do ease and grace to me,[81] Speak to me:[81] If thou art privy to thy country's fate, Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,[82][83] O, speak![82] 135 Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,[84] Speak of it: stay, and speak! [_The cock crows._] Stop it, Marcellus.[85]
Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partisan?[86] 140
Hor. Do, if it will not stand.[87][88]
Ber. 'Tis here![87]
Hor. 'Tis here![87]
Mar. 'Tis gone! [_Exit Ghost._[87][89] We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show of violence; For it is, as the air, invulnerable,[90] 145 And our vain blows malicious mockery.
Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,[91] 150 Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day, and at his warning,[92] Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,[92] The extravagant and erring spirit hies[92][93] To his confine: and of the truth herein[92] 155 This present object made probation.
Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock.[94] Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes[95] Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long:[96] 160 And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,[97] The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike, No fairy takes nor witch hath power to charm,[98] So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.[99]
Hor. So have I heard and do in part believe it. 165 But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill:[100] Break we our watch up; and by my advice,[101] Let us impart what we have seen to-night Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,[102] 170 This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him: Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,[103] As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?