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DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark.

HAMLET, Son to the former, and Nephew to the present King.
HORATIO, Friend to Hamlet.

POLONIUS, Lord Chamberlain.
LAERTES, his Son.

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FRANCISCO, a Soldier.

REYNALDO, Servant to Polonius.
A Captain. Ambassadors.

Ghost of Hamlet's Father.

FORTINBRAS, Prince of Norway.

Two Clowns, Grave-diggers.

GERTRUDE, Queen of Denmark, and Mother to Hamlet.
OPHELIA, Daughter to Polonius.

Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Players, Sailors, Messengers,

and

Attendants.

SCENE, Elsinore.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Elsinore. A Platform before the Castle,

FRANCISCO on his Post. Enter to him BERNARDO.

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Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour.

Ber. 'T is new-struck twelve: get thee to bed, Francisco. Fran. For this relief much thanks. "T is bitter cold,

And I am sick at heart.

Ber. Have you bad 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. |

Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.

Fran. I think I hear them.
Hor. Friends to this ground.
Mar.

Fran. Give you good night.
Mar.

Who hath reliev'd you?

Fran.

Stand, ho! Who is there!

And liegemen to the Dane.

O! farewell, honest soldier: Bernardo has my place."

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Ber. Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.
Hor. What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?

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Ber. I have seen nothing.

Mar. Horatio says, 't is 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;
That, if again this apparition come,

He may approve our eyes, and speak to it. |
Hor. Tush, tush! 't will not appear.
Ber.

I TO
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.
two nig

Hor.

Sit down awhile;

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Well, sit we down,

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When yond same star, that 's westward from the pole,
Had made his course t' 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! |

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Ber. In the same figure, like the king that's dead. Mur. 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. bis oits.ell doout of rec Mar. 51 nd then at Question it, Horatio. Hor. What art thou, that usurp'st this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form,

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In which the majesty of buried Denmark

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Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!
Mar. It is offended.

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Exit Ghost.

Hor. Stay speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!

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Mar. 'T is gone, and will not answer.

Ber. How now, Horatio! you tremble, and look pale.lo 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!902 og low toll G

Mar, ning Is it not like the king?"H

Hor. As thou art to thyself. e
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 sledded Polacks on the ice.

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

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

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This bodes some strange eruption to our state.

Mar. Good now, sit down; and tell me, he that knows, A Why this same strict and most observant watch

So nightly toils the subject of the land? Lis th
And why such daily cast of brazen cannon,
And foreign mart for implements of war?
Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
Does not divide the Sunday from the week?
What might be toward, that this sweaty hastec
Doth make the night joint labourer with the day?
Who is 't, that can inform me? ||

Hor.

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That can I;
At least, the whisper goes so. 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
(For so this side of our known world esteem'd him)
Did slay this Fortinbras; who, by a seal'd compact,
Well ratified by law and 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'd
To the inheritance of Fortinbras,

Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same cov'nant,
And carriage of the article design'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 list of lawless resolutes,

For food and diet, to some enterprize

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

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And terms compulsative, those 'foresaid lands
So by his father lost. And this, I take it,
Is the main motive of our preparations,
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;
Well may it sort, that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch; so 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 mightiest Julius fell,

The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets:

As, 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 dooms-day with eclipse:
And even the like precurse of fierce events
As harbingers preceding still the fates,
And prologue to the omen coming on
Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
Unto our climatures and countrymen.

Re-enter Ghost.

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But, soft! behold! lo, where it comes again!
I'll cross it, though it blast me.

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Stay, illusion!

If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me:

If there be any good thing to be done,
That may to theé do ease, and grace to me,
Speak to me:

If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
Which happily foreknowing may avoid,

O, speak!

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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, [Cock crows.

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.

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