HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK. ACT I. SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle. FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO. Ber. Who's there? Fran. Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself. Fran. Bernardo? Ber. He. Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour. Ber. 'Tis now (1) struck twelve; get thee to bed, Fran cisco. 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. Fran. I think I hear them.-Stand, ho! Who's there? Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS. Hor. Friends to this ground. Mar. Fran. Give you good night. And liegemen to the Dane. Ber. Welcome, Horatio:-welcome, good Marcellus. 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; He may approve our eyes, and speak to it. And let us once again assail your ears, Hor. Sit down awhile; Well, sit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. Ber. Last night of all, When yond 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. Mar. Question 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 I charge thee, speak! 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 on't? Hor. Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch 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 'Tis strange. Mar. Thus twice before, and just at this dead hour, With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. Hor. In what particular thought to work I know not; But, in the gross and scope of my opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state. Mar. Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, Why this same strict and most observant watch So nightly toils the subject of the land; Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task Hor. At least, the whisper goes so. That can I; Our last king, Whose image even but now appear'd to us, Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands Was gagèd by our king; which had return'd Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same cov'nant, His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there, For food and diet, to some enterprise Ber. I think it be no other, but e'en so: Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets: As,(4) stars with trains of fire, and dews of blood, Disasters in the sun; and the moist star, Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands, Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse: Re-enter Ghost. I'll cross it, though it blast me.-Stay, illusion! Speak to me: If there be any good thing to be done, That may to thee do ease, and grace to me, If thou art privy to thy country's fate, Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, [Cock crows. Speak of it-stay, and speak!-Stop it, Marcellus. Ber. Hor. Mar. 'Tis gone! 'Tis here! 'Tis here! [Exit Ghost. We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show of violence; For it is, as the air, invulnerable, And our vain blows malicious mockery. Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew. Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, |