Hamlet

HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
by William Shakespeare

PERSONS REPRESENTED.
Claudius, King of Denmark.
Hamlet, Son to the former, and Nephew to the present King.
Polonius, Lord Chamberlain.
Horatio, Friend to Hamlet.
Laertes, Son to Polonius.
Voltimand, Courtier.
Cornelius, Courtier.
Rosencrantz, Courtier.
Guildenstern, Courtier.
Osric, Courtier.
A Gentleman, Courtier.
A Priest.
Marcellus, Officer.
Bernardo, Officer.
Francisco, a Soldier

Reynaldo, Servant to Polonius.
Players.
Two Clowns, Grave-diggers.
Fortinbras, Prince of Norway.
A Captain.
English Ambassadors.
Ghost of Hamlet's Father.
Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, and Mother of Hamlet.
Ophelia, Daughter to Polonius.
Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers, and other
Attendants.

SCENE. Elsinore.
ACT I.
Scene I. Elsinore. A platform before the Castle.
[Francisco at his post. Enter to him Bernardo.]
Ber.
Who's there?
Fran.
Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.
Ber.
Long live the king!
Fran.
Bernardo?

Ber.
He.
Fran.
You come most carefully upon your hour.
Ber.
'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.
Fran.
For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,
And I am sick 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.
Fran.
I think I hear them.--Stand, ho! Who is there?
[Enter Horatio and Marcellus.]
Hor.
Friends to this ground.
Mar.
And liegemen to the Dane.
Fran.
Give you good-night.
Mar.
O, farewell, honest soldier;
Who hath reliev'd you?
Fran.
Bernardo has my place.
Give you good-night.
[Exit.]
Mar.
Holla! Bernardo!
Ber.
Say.
What, is Horatio there?
Hor.
A piece of him.

Ber.
Welcome, Horatio:--Welcome, good Marcellus.
Mar.
What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?
Ber.
I have seen nothing.
Mar.
Horatio says 'tis 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, 'twill not appear.
Ber.
Sit down awhile,
And let us once again assail your ears,
That
are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.
Hor.
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 his course to 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!
[Enter Ghost, armed.]
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.
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.
Ber.
See, it stalks away!
Hor.
Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee speak!
[Exit Ghost.]
Mar.
'Tis 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.
Mar.
Is it not like the King?
Hor.
As thou art to thyself:
Such was the very armour he had on

When he the ambitious Norway combated;
So frown'd he once when,
in an angry parle,
He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
'Tis
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 my 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?
Hor.
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 enterprise
That hath a stomach in't; which is no other,--
As
it doth