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　　 ACT1

　　 SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle.

　　 FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO

　　 BERNARDO

　　 Who's there?

　　 FRANCISCO

　　 Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 Long live the king!

　　 FRANCISCO

　　 Bernardo?

　　 BERNARDO

　　 He.

　　 FRANCISCO

　　 You come most carefully upon your hour.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.

　　 FRANCISCO

　　 For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,

　　 And I am sick at heart.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 Have you had quiet guard?

　　 FRANCISCO

　　 Not a mouse stirring.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 Well, good night.

　　 If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,

　　 The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.

　　 FRANCISCO

　　 I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there?

　　 Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS

　　 HORATIO

　　 Friends to this ground.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 And liegemen to the Dane.

　　 FRANCISCO

　　 Give you good night.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 O, farewell, honest soldier:

　　 Who hath relieved you?

　　 FRANCISCO

　　 Bernardo has my place.

　　 Give you good night.

　　 Exit

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 Holla! Bernardo!

　　 BERNARDO

　　 Say,

　　 What, is Horatio there?

　　 HORATIO

　　 A piece of him.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?

　　 BERNARDO

　　 I have seen nothing.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 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.

　　 HORATIO

　　 Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 Sit down awhile;

　　 And let us once again assail your ears,

　　 That are so fortified against our story

　　 What we have two nights seen.

　　 HORATIO

　　 Well, sit we down,

　　 And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 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,--

　　 Enter Ghost

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

　　 BERNARDO

　　 In the same figure, like the king that's dead.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.

　　 HORATIO

　　 Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 It would be spoke to.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 Question it, Horatio.

　　 HORATIO

　　 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!

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 It is offended.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 See, it stalks away!

　　 HORATIO

　　 Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!

　　 Exit Ghost

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 'Tis gone, and will not answer.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale:

　　 Is not this something more than fantasy?

　　 What think you on't?

　　 HORATIO

　　 Before my God, I might not this believe

　　 Without the sensible and true avouch

　　 Of mine own eyes.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 Is it not like the king?

　　 HORATIO

　　 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.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,

　　 With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.

　　 HORATIO

　　 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.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 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?

　　 HORATIO

　　 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,

　　 Dared 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 seized 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 covenant,

　　 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 well appear unto our state--

　　 But to recover of us, by strong hand

　　 And terms compulsatory, 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.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 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.

　　 HORATIO

　　 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 doomsday 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!

　　 Re-enter Ghost

　　 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:

　　 Cock crows

　　 If thou art privy to thy country's fate,

　　 Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak!

　　 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,

　　 Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 Shall I strike at it with my partisan?

　　 HORATIO

　　 Do, if it will not stand.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 'Tis here!

　　 HORATIO

　　 'Tis here!

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 'Tis 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.

　　 BERNARDO

　　 It was about to speak, when the cock crew.

　　 HORATIO

　　 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,

　　 The extravagant and erring spirit hies

　　 To his confine: and of the truth herein

　　 This present object made probation.

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 It faded on the crowing of the cock.

　　 Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes

　　 Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,

　　 The 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 the time.

　　 HORATIO

　　 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 eastward 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?

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know

　　 Where we shall find him most conveniently.

　　 Exeunt

　　 SCENE II. A room of state in the castle.

　　 Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants

　　 KING CLAUDIUS

　　 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,

　　 The imperial jointress to this warlike state,

　　 Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,--

　　 With an auspicious and a 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 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

　　 Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,

　　 To our most valiant brother. So much for him.

　　 Now for ourself and for this time of meeting:

　　 Thus much the business is: we have here writ

　　 To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,--

　　 Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears

　　 Of this his nephew's 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 dispatch

　　 You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,

　　 For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;

　　 Giving to you no further personal power

　　 To business with the king, more than the scope

　　 Of these delated articles allow.

　　 Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.

　　 CORNELIUS VOLTIMAND

　　 In that and all things will we show our duty.

　　 KING CLAUDIUS

　　 We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.

　　 Exeunt VOLTIMAND 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 loose your voice: what wouldst 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 wouldst thou have, Laertes?

　　 LAERTES

　　 My dread lord,

　　 Your leave and favour to return to France;

　　 From whence though willingly I came to Denmark,

　　 To show my duty in your coronation,

　　 Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,

　　 My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France

　　 And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

　　 KING CLAUDIUS

　　 Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

　　 LORD POLONIUS

　　 He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave

　　 By laboursome petition, and at last

　　 Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:

　　 I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

　　 KING CLAUDIUS

　　 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,--

　　 HAMLET

　　 [Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind.

　　 KING CLAUDIUS

　　 How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

　　 HAMLET

　　 Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun.

　　 QUEEN GERTRUDE

　　 Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,

　　 And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

　　 Do not for ever with thy vailed lids

　　 Seek for thy noble father in the dust:

　　 Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,

　　 Passing through nature to eternity.

　　 HAMLET

　　 Ay, madam, it is common.

　　 QUEEN GERTRUDE

　　 If it be,

　　 Why seems it so particular with thee?

　　 HAMLET

　　 Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.'

　　 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,

　　 Nor customary suits of solemn black,

　　 Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,

　　 No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

　　 Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage,

　　 Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,

　　 That can denote me truly: these indeed seem,

　　 For they are actions that a man might play:

　　 But I have that within which passeth show;

　　 These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

　　 KING CLAUDIUS

　　 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,

　　 To give these mourning duties to your father:

　　 But, you must know, your father lost a father;

　　 That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound

　　 In filial obligation for some term

　　 To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever

　　 In obstinate condolement is a course

　　 Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief;

　　 It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,

　　 A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,

　　 An understanding simple and unschool'd:

　　 For what we know must be and is as common

　　 As any the most vulgar thing to sense,

　　 Why should we in our peevish opposition

　　 Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,

　　 A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,

　　 To reason most absurd: whose common theme

　　 Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,

　　 From the first corse till he that died to-day,

　　 'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth

　　 This unprevailing woe, and think of us

　　 As of a father: for let the world take note,

　　 You are the most immediate to our throne;

　　 And with no less nobility of love

　　 Than that which dearest father bears his son,

　　 Do I impart toward you. For your intent

　　 In going back to school in Wittenberg,

　　 It is most retrograde to our desire:

　　 And we beseech you, bend you to remain

　　 Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,

　　 Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.

　　 QUEEN GERTRUDE

　　 Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet:

　　 I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.

　　 HAMLET

　　 I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

　　 KING CLAUDIUS

　　 Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply:

　　 Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;

　　 This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet

　　 Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,

　　 No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,

　　 But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,

　　 And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again,

　　 Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.

　　 Exeunt all but HAMLET

　　 HAMLET

　　 O, that this too too solid flesh would melt

　　 Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!

　　 Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

　　 His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!

　　 How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,

　　 Seem to me all the uses of this world!

　　 Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,

　　 That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature

　　 Possess it merely. That it should come to this!

　　 But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:

　　 So excellent a king; that was, to this,

　　 Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother

　　 That he might not beteem the winds of heaven

　　 Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!

　　 Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,

　　 As if increase of appetite had grown

　　 By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--

　　 Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!--

　　 A little month, or ere those shoes were old

　　 With which she follow'd my poor father's body,

　　 Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she--

　　 O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,

　　 Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,

　　 My father's brother, but no more like my father

　　 Than I to Hercules: within a month:

　　 Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

　　 Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,

　　 She married. O, most wicked speed, to post

　　 With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

　　 It is not nor it cannot come to good:

　　 But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.

　　 Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO

　　 HORATIO

　　 Hail to your lordship!

　　 HAMLET

　　 I am glad to see you well:

　　 Horatio,--or I do forget myself.

　　 HORATIO

　　 The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.

　　 HAMLET

　　 Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:

　　 And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus?

　　 MARCELLUS

　　 My good lord--

　　 HAMLET

　　 I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir.

　　 But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

　　 HORATIO

　　 A truant disposition, good my lord.

　　 HAMLET

　　 I would not hear your enemy say so,

　　 Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,

　　 To make it truster of your own report

　　 Against yourself: I know you are no truant.

　　 But what is your affair in Elsinore?

　　 We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

　　 HORATIO

　　 My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

　　 HAMLET

　　 I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student;

　　 I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

　　 HORATIO

　　 Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

　　 HAMLET

　　 Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats

　　 Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

　　 Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

　　 Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!

　　 My father!--methinks I see my father.

　　 HORATIO

　　 Where, my lord?

　　 HAMLET

　　 In my mind's eye, Horatio.

　　 HORATIO

　　 I saw him once; he was a goodly king.

　　 HAMLET

　　 He was a man, take him for all in all,

　　 I shall not look upon his like again.

　　 HORATIO

　　 My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

　　 HAMLET

　　 Saw? who?

　　 HORATIO

　　 My lord, the king your father.

　　 HAMLET

　　 The king my father!

　　 HORATIO

　　 Season your admiration for awhile

　　 With an attent ear, till I may deliver,

　　 Upon the witness of these gentlemen,

　　 This marvel to you.

　　 HAMLET

　　 For God's love, let me hear.

　　 HORATIO

　　 Two nights together had these gentlemen,

　　 Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,

　　 In the dead vast and middle of the night,

　　 Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,

　　 Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,

　　 Appears before them, and with solemn march