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SCENE An open Place before the Palace.

Enter Bernardo and Francifco, two Centinels.

1

BERNARDO.

Ho's there?

Fran. Nay, anfwer me: Stand and unfold your felf.

Ber. Long live the King.

Fran. Bernardo?

Ber. He.

Fran. You come moft 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?

Fran. Not a Mouse stirring.

Ber. Well, good Night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, the Rivals of my Watch, bid them make haste. Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Fran. I think I hear them. Stand; who's there?

Hor. Friends to this Ground.

U 4

Mar.

Mar. And Liege-men to the Dane.

Fran. Give you good Night.

Mar. O, 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. Tush, tush, 'twill not appear,
Ber. Sit down a while,

'And let us once again affail your Ears,
That are fo fortified against our ftory,
What we two Nights have seen.

Hor. Well, fit we down,

And let us hear Bernardo (peak 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 the Ghoft.

Look where it comes again.

Ber. In the fame figure like the King that's dead.
Mar. Thou art a Scholar, 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. Question it, Horatio.

Hor. What art thou that ufurp'ft this time of Night, Together with that fair and warlike form,

In which, the Majefty of buried Denmark

Did fometimes march? by Heav'n, I charge thee, fpeak.

Mar. It is offended.

Ber. See! it ftalks away.

Hor. Stay; fpeak; fpeak: I charge thee, fpeak.

Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not anfwer.

[Exit Ghoft.

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

What think you on't?

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 fledded Pole-axe on the Ice,

'Tis ftrange-

Mar. Thus twice before, and juft at this fame Hour, With Martial stalk, hath he gone by our Watch.

Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know not:/ But in the grofs and fcope of my opinion,

This boads 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 fubject of the Land:

And why fuch daily caft of Brazen Cannon
And foreign Mart for Implements of War:
Why fuch Imprefs of Shipwrights, 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 ?

Har. That can I,

At least the Whisper goes fo, Our last King,
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)
Dar'd to the combat. In which, our valiant Hamlet,

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(For

(For fo this fide of our known World esteem'd him)
Did flay this Fortinbras: who by a feal'd Compact,
Well ratified by Law, and Heraldry,

Did forfeit, with his Life, all thofe his Lands
Which he stood feiz'd on, to the Conqueror :
Against the which, a Moiety competent
Was gaged by our King; which had return'd
To the Inheritance of Fortinbras,

Had he been Vanquisher, as by the fame Cov'nant
And carriage of the Article defign'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 Lift of Landlefs Refolutes,
For Food and Dyet; to fome enterprize
That hath a Stomach in't: which is no other,
'And 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 fo:

may

Well it fort that this portentous Figure
Comes armed through our Watch fo like the King,
That was, and is the Queftion of thefe Wars.

Hor. A Mote it is to trouble the Mind's Eye.
In the most high and flourishing State of Rome,
A little e'er the mightiest Julius fell,

The Graves ftood Tenantlefs, and the fheeted Dead
Did fqueak and gibber in the Roman Streets,
Stars Thon with Trains of Fire, Dews of Blood fell,
Difafters veil'd the Sun, and the moift Star,
Upon whose Influence Neptune's Empire ftands,
Was fick almoft to Doom's-day with Eclipfe;'
And even the like Precurfe of fierce Events,
As Harbingers preceding ftill the Fates,
And Prologue to the Omen coming on,
Have Heav'n and Earth together demonstrated
Unto our Climatures and Country-men..

D

Enter

Enter Ghoft again.

But foft, behold! Lo, where it comes again!
I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, Illufion!

If thou haft any found, or use of Voice,

[Spreading his Arms.

Speak to me, If there be any good thing to be done, That may to thee do cafe, and grace to me; fpeak to me. If thou art privy to thy Country's Fate,

[Cock Crows.

Which happily fore-knowing may avoid, Oh fpeak!
Or, if thou haft uphoorded in thy Life
Extorted Treasure in the womb of Earth,
For which, they fay, you Spirits oft walk in Death,
Speak of it. Stay, and fpeak-Stop it, Marcellus
Mar. Shall I ftrike at it with my Partizan?
Hor. Do, if it will not ftand.

Ber. 'Tis here

Hor. 'Tis here

Mar. 'Tis gone.

We do it wrong, being fo Majeftical,
To offer it the fhew of Violence;
For it is as the Air, invulnerable,

And our vain blows, malicious mockery.

[Exit Ghoft.

Ber. It was about to fpeak, 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 day,
Doth with his lofty and fhrill-founding throat
A wake the God of Day: and at his warning,
Whether in Sea, or Fire, in Earth, or Air,
Th' extravagant and erring Spirit hyes
To his Confine. And of the truth herein,
This prefent Object made probation.

Mar. It faded on the crowing of the Cock.
Some fay, that ever 'gainst that feafon comes
Wherein our Saviour's Birth is celebrated,
The Bird of Dawning fingeth all Night long:
And then, they fay, no Spirit dares walk abroad,
The Nights are wholfome, then no Planets strike,
No Fairy takes, no Witch hath power to charm;
So hallow'd, and fo gracious is the time.

Hor. So have I heard, and do in part believe it.

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