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Claudius, king of Denmark.
Gertrude, queen of Denmark, and mother of Hamlet.
Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Players, Grave-dig
gers, Sailors, Messengers, and other Attendants.
PRINCE OF DENMARK.
SCENE I. Elsinore. A Platform before the Castle.
FRANCISCO on his Post. Enter to him BERNARDO,
Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold Yourself.
Ber. Long live the king !
. Fran. You come most carefully upon your
hour. Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed
Ber. Have you had quiet guard?
Not a mouse stirring.
Fran. I think, I hear them.--Stand, ho! Who is
there! Hor. Friends to this ground. Mar.
And liegemen to the Dane. Fran. Give you good night. Mar.
O, farewell, honest soldier: Who hath reliet'd you? Fran.
Bernardo hath my place. Give you good night.
[Exit FRANCISCO. Mar.
A piece of him.
lus. Hor. What, has this thing appear'd again to
Mar. Horatio says, 'tis but our fantasy;
Hor. Tush! tush! 'twill not appear.
Sit down awhile ;
2 Make good or establish.
What we two nights have seen.
Well, sit we down, And 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,Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes
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 harrows3 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
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 of it?
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 5 Polack 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
But, in the gross and scope of mine opinion,
4 Dispute. 5 Sledge. • Polander, an inhabitant of Poland.