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DRAMATIS PERSON Æ.
CLAUDIUS, king of Denmark.
GERTRUDE, queen of Denmark.
Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers, and
Ghost of Hamlet's father.
FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO. BERNARDO. Who's there ?
Fran. Nay, answer me : stand, and unfold yourself. Ber. Long live the king ! 1 Fran. Bernardo ? Ber. He. Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour. Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve ; get thee to bed, Francisco.
Fran. For this relief, much thanks : 'tis bitter cold,
Ber. Have you had quiet guard ?
Not a mouse stirring.
Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
And liegemen to the Dane.
O, farewell, honest soldier: Who hath reliev'd you ? Fran.
Bernardo has my place. Give you good-night.
Holla! Bernardo !
A piece of him.
Mar. Horatio says, 'tis but our fantasy,
Hor. Tush, tush ! 'twill not appear.
Sit down awhile ; And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
Well, sit we down,
Ber. Last night of all,
Mar. Peace, break thee off ; look, where it comes again !
Enter Ghost. Ber. In the same figure, like the king that's dead. Mar. Thou art a scholar ; speak to it, Horatio.3 Ber. Looks it not like the king ? mark it, Horatio. Hor. Most like :—it harrows me with fear and wonder. Ber. It would be spoke to. Mar.
Question it, Horatio.
Mar. It is offended.
See, it stalks away!
[Exit Ghost. Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer.
Ber. How now, Horatio ! you tremble, and look pale :
I might not this believe
Is it not like the king ?
our he had on
When he the ambitious Norway combated ;
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 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 inforın me? Hor.
That can I;
Our last king,