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Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand,
This is my daughter's jointure; for no more
Can I demand.

Mon. But I can give thee more,

For I will raise her statue in pure gold;
That, while Verona by that name is known,
There shall no figure at that rate be set,
As that of true and faithful Juliet.

Cap. As rich fhall Romeo's by his Lady lie;
Poor facrifices of our enmity!

Prince. A gloomy peace this morning with it brings, The fun for forrow will not fhew his head; Go hence to have more talk of thefe fad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and fome punished.

For never was a story of more woe,

Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. [Exeunt omnes.

HAMLET,

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Fortinbras, Prince of Nor-Reynoldo, fervant to Polo

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nius.

Ghost of Hamlet's father.
Gertrude, Queen of Den-
mark, and mother to Ham-
let.
Ophelia, daughter to Polo-
nius, beloved by Hamlet.
Ladies attending on the
Queen.

Players,Grave makers,Sail-
lors, Meffengers, and o-
ther Attendants,

Rofincrantz,

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SCEN E,

Elfinoor.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Ber.

A platform before the palace.

Enter Bernardo and Francifco, two centinels.

W

HO's there?

Fran. Nay, answer me: ftand, and unfold yourself.

Ber. Long live the King!

Fran. Bernardo?

Ber. He.

Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour. Ber. 'Tis now ftruck twelve; get thee to bed, Fran

cifco.

Fran For this relief, much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, And I am fick at heart.

Ber. Have you had quiet guard?

The story is taken from Saxo Grammaticus's Danish history.

VOL. VIII.

H

Fran.

Fran. Not a moufe ftirring.

Ber. Well, good night.

If you do meet Horatio and Mercellus,

The rivals of my watch, bid them make hafte.

Enter Horatio and Mercellus.

Fran. I think I hear them. Stand, ho! who is there? Hor. Friends to this ground.

Mar. And liege-men to the Dane.

Fran. Give you good night.

Mar. Oh, farewel, honeft foldier; 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.

[Giving his hand.

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 phantafy;

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. Tufh! tufh! 'twill not appear.

Ber. Sit down a while,

And let us once again affail your ears,
That are fo fortified against our story,
What we have two nights feen.
Hor. Well, fit we down,

And let us hear Bernado speak of this.
Ber. Laft night of all,

When yon fame ftar that's weftward from the pole,
Had made his courfe t'illume that part of heav'n
Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,

The bell then beating one,

Mar. Peace, break thee off.

*icak, for partners.

Enter

Enter the Ghoft.

Look where it comes again.

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Ber. In the fame figure, like the King that's dead.
Mar. Thou art a fcholar, 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. Speak to 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 fometime march? By Heav'n, I charge thee speak. Mar. It is offended.

Ber. See! it stalks away.

Hor. Stay; fpeak; I charge thee, speak. [Exit Ghoft. Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.

Ber. How now, Horatio? you tremble and look pale. Is not this fomething more than phantafy? What think you of it?

Hor. Before my God I might not this believe, Without the fenfible 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 fmote the fleaded Polack on the ice.

'Tis ftrange

Mar. Thus twice before, and juft at this dead hour With martial ftalk, he hath gone by our watch.

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

This bodes fome ftrange eruption to our ftate.

Mar. Good now fit down, and tell me he that knows,
Why this fame ftrict and most observant watch
So nightly toils the fubjects of the land?
And why fuch daily caft of brazen cannon,
And foreign mart for implements of war?

Why fuch imprefs of fhipwrights, whofe fore tak
Does not divide the Sunday from the week?
H 2

What

What might be toward, that this fweaty hafte Doth make the night joint labourer with the day? Who is't that can inform me ?

Hor. That can I;

At least, the whisper goes fo. Our last King,
Whofe image but even now appear'd to us,
Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
(Thereto prick'd on by a moft emulate pride),
Dar'd to the fight: in which our valiant flamlet
(For fo this fide of our known world esteem'd him)
Did flay this Fortinbras; who, by feal'd compact,
Well ratified by law of heraldry,

Did forfeit (with his life) all thofe his lands
Which he food 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 vanquifher; as by the fame comart,
And carriage of the articles defign'd,

His fell to Hamlet. Now young Fortinbras,
Of unimproved * mettle hot and full,
Hath in the fkirts of Norway, here and there,
Shark'd up a list of landless resolutes,
For food and diet, to fome enterprise
That hath a ftomach in't: which is no other,
As it doth well appear unto our state,
But to recover of us by ftrong hand,
And terms compulfatory 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-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 fo like the King,
That was, and is the question of these wars.

Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
"In the most high and palmy † state of Rome,
"A little ere the mightieft Julius fell,
"The graves ftood tenantlefs, the fheeted dead
Did fqueak and gibber in the Roman streets;

• unimproved, tor unrefined.

palmy, for videricus.

"Stars

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