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Enter the Ghost.
Look where it comes again.
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.
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'ít this time of night,
Together with that fair and warlike form
In which the Majesty of buried Denmark
Did sometime march? By Heav'n, I charge thee speak.
Mar. It is offended.
Ber. See ! it stalks away.
Hor. Stay; speak; I charge thee, speak. [Exit Ghufi.
Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.
Ber. How now, Horatio? you tremble and look pale.
Is not this something more than phantasy?
What think you of it?
Hor. Before my God I might not this believe,
Without the sensible and try'd 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,
When he th' ambitious Norway combated :
So frown'd he once, when in an angry parle
He smote the fleaded Polack on the ice.
Mar. Thus twice before, and just at this dead hour. With martial stalk, he hath gone by our watch.
Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know not; But, in the grois and scope of my opinion, This bodes fome strange eruption to our state.
Mar. Good now sit down, and tell me he that knows, Why this fame strict and most observant watch So nightly toils the subjects of the land? And why such daily cast of brazen cannon, And foreign mart for implements of war ? Why such impress of shipwrights, whose 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 ?
Hor. That can 1;
At least, the whisper goes fo. Our last King,
Whose image but even 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 fight: in which our valiant Hamlet
(For so this fide of our known world esteem'd him)
Did flay this Fortinbras ; who, by seal'd compact,
Well ratified by law of 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
To the inheritance of Fortinbras,
Had he been vanquisher; as by the same comart,
And carriage of the articles design'd,
His fell to Hamlet. Now 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 fome enterprise
That hath a stomach in't : which is no other,
As it doth well appear unto our state,
But to recover of us by strong hand,
And terms compulfatory thote foresaid 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-haste and romage in the land.
Ber. I think it be no other, but even fo.
Well may it fort, that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch so like the King,
That was, and is the queition of these wars.
Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
“ In the most high and palmy t state of Rome,
“ A little ere the mightieft Julius fell,
" The graves stood tenantless, the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets;
• unimproved, for unrefined. palmy, for vietcricus.
“ Stars shone with trains of fire, dews of blood fell;
" Disasters veil'd the fun; and the moist star,
“ Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands,
Was sick almost to dooms-day with eclipfe.
And even the like precurse of fierce * events,
As harbingers preceeding itill the fates,
And prologue to the omen † coming on,
Have heav'n and earth together demonstrated
Unto our climatures and countrymen.
Enter Gooft again.
But foft, behold! lo, where it comes again!
I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay illusion !
[Spreading his arms,
If thou hast any found, or use of voice,
Speak to me.
If there be any good thing to be done,
That may to thee do ease, and grace to me ;-
Speak to me.
If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,
Or, if thou hast uphoorded, in thy life
Extorted I treasure, in the womb of earth, [Gock crows.
For which, they fay, you spirits oft walk in death,
Speak of it.. Stay, and speak-Stop it. Marcellus.-
Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partisan ?
Hor. Do, if it will not stand.
Ber. 'Tis here
Hor. 'Tis here
[Exit Gboft. We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the thew 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.
Hor. “ And then it started like a guilty thing
“ Upon a fearful summons I have heard,
s. The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
* fie:ce, for terrikle.
† umen, for fute.
I i. 6. unjustly extorted from thy subjects.
" Doth with his lofty and shrill-founding throat
“ Awake the god of day; and at his warning,
" Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
“ Th' extravagant * and erring spirit hies
« To his confine : and of the truth herein
This present object made probation.
Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock. “ Some fay, that ever 'gainst that season comes “ Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, “ The bird of dawning fingeth all night long : • And then they say no spirit walks abroad; “ The nights are wholsome, then no planets striko, “ No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm; “. So hallow'd and to gracious is the time.
Hur. So have I heard, and do in part believe it. " But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, “ Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill; Break we our watch up; and, by my advice, Let us impart what we have seen to-night Unto young Hamlet. For, upon my life, This fpirit, dumb to us, will speak to himn. Do you consent, we shall acquaint him with it, As needful in our loves, fitting our duty ?
Mar. Let's do't, I pray; and this morning know Where we shall find him most conveniently. [Exeunt.
S C Ε Ν Ε ΙΙ.
Changes to the palace.
Enter Claudius King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen,
Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, Voltimand, Cornelius,
Lords and Attendants.
yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
The memory be green, and that it fitted
To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
To be contracted in one brow of woe ;
Yet so far hath Discretion fought with Nature,
That we with wiselt sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore our sometime fifter, now our Queen,
Th' imperial jointress of this warlike Itate,
Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,
* i, e; go out os its bounds,
With one auspicious, and one dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole,
Taken to wife. Nor have we herein barrid
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along : (for all, our thanks).
Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
Holding a weak fuppofal of our worth;
Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
Our state to be disjoint, and out of frame;
Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pefter us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, by all bands of law,
To our most valiant brother.-So much for him.
Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting :
Thus much the business is. We have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras, .
(Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew's purpose), to suppress
His further gate herein ; in that the levies,
The lifts, and full proportions, are all made
Out of his subjects: and we here dispatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
Giving to you no farther personal power
To business with the King, more than the scope
Which these dilated articles allow.
Farewel, and let your halte commend your duty.
Vol In that and all things, will we fhew our duty.
King. We doubt it nothing; heartily farewel.
[Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius. And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of fome fuit. What is't, Laertes ? You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, And lose your voice. What would'st thou beg, Laertes, That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? The blood is not more native to the heart, The hand more instrumental to the mouth, Than to the throne of Denmark is thy father. What would'ft thou have, Laertes? Laer. My dread Lord,