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ACT THE FIRST.
A Platform before the Palace.
FRANCISCO on his Post.-BERNARDO entering to
Ber. Who's there?
cisco. Fran. For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter
Ber. Have you had quiet guard ?
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
[Exit FRANCISCO. Mar. Holla! Bernardo!
Hor. A piece of him.
'tis but our fantasy;
Hor. Tush! tush ! 'twill not appear.
Ber. Come, let us once again assail your ears,
Hor. Well, let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
Ber. Last night of all, When yon 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,
(Clock strikes one.
Enter Ghost. Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes
again! Ber. In the same figure, like the king that's dead. Hor. Most like:-İt harrows me with fear, and
wonder. Ber. It would be spoke to. Mar. Speak to it, Horatio. Hor. What art thou, that usurp’st this time of
[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 of it?
Hor. 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. 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.
[Cock crows. Exit GHOST. Stay, and speak! Mar. "Tis gone!
We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show of violence.
Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
Hor. And then it started, like a guilty thing
Flourish of Trumpets and Drums.
Enter POLONIUS, the KING, QUEEN, HAMLET,
LAERTES, GENTLEMEN, and Ladies.
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, The imperial jointress to this warlike state, Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy, Taken to wife; nor have we herein barr'd Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along :--For all, our thanks.And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of some suit: what is't, Laertes ?
Laer. My dread lord,