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About this text

  • Title: Hamlet (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: David Bevington
  • Textual editor: Eric Rasmussen
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-434-9

    Copyright David Bevington. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: David Bevington
    Peer Reviewed

    Hamlet (Folio 1, 1623)

    152
    THE TRAGEDIE OF
    HAMLET, Prince of Denmarke.

    1 Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.


    Enter Barnardo and Francisco two Centinels.

    Barnardo.
    WHo's there?
    5 Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold
    your selfe.
    Bar. Long liue the King.
    Fran. Barnardo?
    Bar. He.
    10 Fran. You come mo st carefully vpon your houre.
    Bar. 'Tis now strook twelue, get thee to bed Francisco.
    Fran. For this releefe much thankes: 'Tis bitter cold,
    And I am sicke at heart.
    Barn. Haue you had quiet Guard?
    15 Fran. Not a Mouse stirring.
    Barn. Well, goodnight. If you do meet Horatio and
    Marcellus, the Riuals of my Watch, bid them make ha st.
    Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
    Fran. I thinke I heare them. Stand: who's there?
    20 Hor. Friends to this ground.
    Mar. And Leige-men to the Dane.
    Fran. Giue you good night.
    Mar. O farwel hone st Soldier, who hath relieu'd you?
    Fra. Barnardo ha's my place: giue you goodnight.
    25 Exit Fran.
    Mar. Holla Barnardo.
    Bar. Say, what is Horatio there?
    Hor. A peece of him.
    Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus.
    30 Mar. What, ha's this thing appear'd againe to night.
    Bar. I haue seene nothing.
    Mar. Horatio saies, 'tis but our Fanta sie,
    And will not let beleefe take hold of him
    Touching this dreaded sight, twice seene of vs,
    35Therefore I haue intreated him along
    With vs, to watch the minutes of this Night,
    That if againe this Apparition come,
    He may approue our eyes, and speake to it.
    Hor. Tu sh, tu sh, 'twill not appeare.
    40 Bar. Sit downe a-while,
    And let vs once againe a s s aile your eares,
    That are so fortified again st our Story,
    What we two Nights haue seene.
    Hor. Well, sit we downe,
    45And let vs heare Barnardo speake of this.
    Barn. La st night of all,
    When yond same Starre that's We stward from the Pole
    Had made his course t'illume that part of Heauen
    Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my selfe,
    50The Bell then beating one.
    Mar. Peace, breake thee of: Enter the Gho st .
    Looke where it comes againe.
    Barn. In the same figure, like the King that's dead.
    Mar. Thou art a Scholler; speake to it Horatio.
    55 Barn. Lookes it not like the King? Marke it Horatio.
    Hora. Mo st like: It harrowes me with fear & wonder
    Barn. It would be spoke too.
    Mar. Que stion it Horatio.
    Hor. What art thou that vsurp' st this time of night,
    60Together with that Faire and Warlike forme
    In which the Maie sty of buried Denmarke
    Did sometimes march: By Heauen I charge thee speake.
    Mar. It is offended.
    Barn. See, it stalkes away.
    65 Hor. Stay: speake; speake: I Charge thee, speake.
    Exit the Gho st .
    Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.
    Barn. How now Horatio? You tremble & look pale:
    Is not this something more then Fanta sie?
    70What thinke you on't?
    Hor. Before my God, I might not this beleeue
    Without the sen sible and true auouch
    Of mine owne eyes.
    Mar. Is it not like the King?
    75 Hor. As thou art to thy selfe,
    Such was the very Armour he had on,
    When th'Ambitious Norwey combatted:
    So frown'd he once, when in an angry parle
    He smot the sledded Pollax on the Ice.
    80'Tis strange.
    Mar. Thus twice before, and iu st at this dead houre,
    With Martiall stalke, hath he gone by our Watch.
    Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know not:
    But in the gro s s e and scope of my Opinion,
    85This boades some strange erruption to our State.
    Mar. Good now sit downe, & tell me he that knowes
    Why this same strict and mo st obseruant Watch,
    So nightly toyles the subiect of the Land,
    And why such dayly Ca st of Brazon Cannon
    90And Forraigne Mart for Implements of warre:
    Why such impre s s e of Ship-wrights, whose sore Taske
    Do's not diuide the Sunday from the weeke,
    What might be toward, that this sweaty ha st
    Doth make the Night ioynt-Labourer with the day:
    95Who is't that can informe me?
    Hor. That can I,
    At