Hor. Stay speak; speak: I Charge thee, speak.
Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.
Barn. 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 thy self,
Such was the very Armour he had on,
When th' Ambitious Norway combated:
So frown'd he once, when in an angry parle
He smote the sledded Pollax on the Ice.
Mar. Thus twice before, and just 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 Brazon Cannon
And Foreign Mart for Implements of war:
Why such impress of Ship-wrights, 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:
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 on, 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 designe,
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 Landless Resolutes,
For Food and Diet, to some Enterprise
That hath a stomach in't: which is no other
(And it doth well appear unto our State)
But to recover of us by strong hand
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.
But soft, behold: Lo, where it comes again:
I'll cross it, though it blast me. 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 thee do ease, and grace to me; speak to me.
If thou art privy to thy Country's Fate
(Which happily foreknowing may avoid) Oh speak. Or, if thou hast up-hoarded in thy life.
Extorted Treasure in the womb of Earth,
(For which, they say, you Spirits oft walk in death) Speak of it. Stay, and speak. Stop it Marcellus. Mar. Shall I strike at ir with my Partisan?
Hor. Do, if it will not stand.
Barn. 'Tis here.
Hor. 'Tis here.
Mar. 'Tis gone.
We do it wrong, being so Majestical
To offer it the shew of Violence,
For it is as the Air, invulnerable,
And our vain blows, malicious Mockery.
Barn. 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 day,
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 says, that ever 'gainst that Season comes
Wherein our Saviours Birth is celebrated,
The Bird of Dawning singeth all night long :
And then (they say) no Spirit can walk abroad,
The nights are wholesome, then no Planets strike,
No Fairy talks, nor Witch hath power to Charm:
So hallow'd, and so gracious is the 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 yon 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 do't I pray, and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently.
Enter Claudius King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, and his Sister Ophelia, Lords Attendant. King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear Brothers 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 our selves.
Therefore our sometimes Sister, now our Queen,
Th' Imperial Jointress of this warlike State,
Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,
With one Auspicious, and one Dropping eye,
With mirth in Funeral, and with Dirge in Marriage,
In 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 Brothers death,
Our State to be disjoint, and out of Frame,
Colleagued with the dream of his Advantage;
He hath not failed to pester us with Message,
Importing the surrender of those Lands
Lost by his Father: with all Bonds of Law
To our most valiant Brother. So much for him.
Enter Voltemand and Cornelius.
Now for our self, and for this time of meeting
Thus much the business is. We have here writ
To Norway, Uncle of young Fortinbras,
Who Impotent and Bedrid, scarcely hears
Of this his Nephews purpose, to suppress
His further gait herein. In that the Levies,
The Lists, and full proportions are all made
Out of his subject and we here despatch
You good Cornelius, and you Voltemand,
For bearing of this greeting to old Norway.
Giving to you no further personal power
To business with the King, more than the scope
Of these dilated Articles allow :
Farewell and let your haste commend your duty.
Volt. In that, and all things, will we shew our duty.
King. We doubt it nothing, heartily farewell.
Exit Voltemand and Cornelius.
And now Laertes, what's the news with you?
You told us of some suit. What is't Laertes?
You cannot speak of Reason to the Dane,
And lose your voice. What would'st thou beg Laertes,
That shall not be my Offer, not thy Asking?
The Head is not more Native to the Heart,
The Hand more Instrumental to the Mouth,
Than is the Throne of Denmark to thy Father.
What would'st thou have Laertes?
Laer. Dread my Lord,
Your leave and favour to return to France,
From whence, though willingly I came to Denmark
To shew my duty in your Coronation,
Yet now I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again towards France,
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
King. Have you your Fathers leave?
What says Pollonius?
Pol. He hath my Lord :
I do beseech you give him leave to go.
King. Take thy fair hour Laertes, time be thine,
And thy best graces spend it at thy will:
But now my Cousin Hamlet, and my Son?
Ham. A little more than kin, and less than kind.
King. How is it that the Clouds still hang on you?
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