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That are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.
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 bis 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!
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 barrows me with fear, and wonder.
Ber. It would be spoke to.
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!
Mar. It is offended.
See! it stalks away.
Hor. Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!
[Exit Ghost. Mar. 'T is gone, and will not answer.
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.
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 sledded Polacks on the ice.
'T is strange.
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;
But in the gross and scope of mine 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?
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 haste
Doth make the night joint labourer with the day?
Who is 't, that can inform me?
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 co-mart,
And carriage of the article design’d,
His fell to Hamlet. Now, Sir, young Fortinbras,
Of unimproved mettle hot and full,
Hačh in the skirts of Norway, here and there,
Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,
For food and diet, to some enterprize
That bath a stomach in 't: which is no other
(As it doth well appear unto our state)
But to recover of us, by strong band
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. –
But, soft! behold! lo, where it comes again!
I'll cross it, though it blast me.
If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me:
If there be any good thing to be done,
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 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.
'T is here! Hor.
'Tis here! Mar. 'T is gone.
[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.
Hor. And then it started, like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding 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 say, that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated ,
This bird of dawning singeth all night long:
And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;
The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is that time.
Hor. So have I heard, and do in part believe it.
But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
Walks o’er the dew of yond' high eastern 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 spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
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 I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently.
The Same. A Room of State.
Enter the King, Queen, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOL-
TIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants.
King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
The memory be green, and that it us befitted
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 wisest sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore, our sometime sister, now our queen,
Th’ imperial jointress of this warlike state,
Have we, as 't were, with a defeated joy,
With one auspicious, and one dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,
Io equal scale weighing delight and dole, -
Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd
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 supposal of our worth,
Or thinking, by our late dear brother's death
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
Colleagued with the dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands