THE

Tragicall Hiftorie of
HAMLET,

Prince of Denmarke.

By William Shakespeare.

Newly imprinted and enlarged to almoft as much
againe as it was, according to the true and perfect.
Coppie.

AT LONDON,

Printed by I. R. for N. L. and are to be fold at his
fhoppe vnder Saint Dunftons Church in

Fleetftreet. 1604.

BAY.

Fran.

Bar. Fran.

THofe there?

VV

Bar, Hee.

Nay anfwere me. Stand and vnfolde your felfe.
Long liue the King,

Barnardo.

Fran. You come moft carefully vpon your houre,
Bar. Tis now ftrooke twelfe, get thee to bed Francifco,
Fran. For this reliefe much thanks, tis bitter cold,
And I am fick at hart.

BAT. Haue you had quiet guard?

Fran. Not a moufeftirring.

BAT. Well, good night:

If you doe meete Horatio and Marcellus,

The riualls of my watch, bid them make haft.

Enter Horatio, and Marcellus.

Fran. Ithinke I heare them, ftand ho, who is there?'

Hera. Friends to this ground.

Mar. And Leedgemen to the Dane,

Fran. Giue you good night.

Mar. O, farwell honeft fouldiers, who hath relieu'd you?

Fran. Barnardo hath my place; giue you good night.

B.

Exit Fran.

Mar.

Mar. Holla, Barnardo.

Bar. Say, what is Horatio there?

Hora. A peece of him.

Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus,

Hora. What, ha's this thing appeard againe to night?
Bar. I hauefeene nothing.

Mar. Horatio faies tis but our fantasie,

And will not let beliefe take holde of him,
Touching this dreaded fight twice feene of vs,
Therefore I haue intreated him along,
With vs to watch the minuts of this night,
That if againe this apparifion come,
He may approoue our eyes and speake to it.
Hora. Tufh, tufh, twill not appeare.
Bar. Sit downe a while,

And let vs once againe affaile your eares,
That are fo fortified against our story,
What we haue two nights feene.

Hora. Well, fit we downe,

And let vs heare Barnardo fpeake of this.

Bar. Laftnight of all,

When yond fame ftarre thats weastward from the pole,
Had made his courfe t'illume that part of heauen

Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my felfe

The bell then beating one.

Enter Ghoft.

Mar. Peace, breake thee of, looke where it comes againe.
Bar. In the fame figure like the King thats dead.

Mar. Thou art a fcholler, fpeake to it Horatio.

Bar. Lookes a not like the King? markeit Horatio.

Hora. Moft like, it horrowes me with feare and wonder.

Bar. It would bespoke to.

Mar. Speake to it Horatio.

Hora. What art thou that vfurpft this time of night, Together with that faire and warlike forme,

In which the Maieftie of buried Denmarke

Did fometimes march, by heauen Icharge thee fpeake.
Mar. It is offended.

Bar. See it staukes away.

Hova. Stay, fpeake, fpeake, I charge thee fpeake.
Mar. Tis gone and will not answere.

Bar. How now Horatio, you tremble and looke pale,
Is not this fomthing more then phantafie?

What thinke you-ont?

Hora. Before my God I might not this belieue, Without the fencible and true auouch

Of mine owne eies.

Mar. Is it not like the King?

Hora. As thou art to thy felfe.
Such was the very Armor he had on,
When he the ambitious Norway combated,
So frownd he once, when in an angry parle
He fmot the fleaded pollax on the ice.

Tis ftrange.

Exit Ghoft.

Mar. Thus twice before, and iump at this dead houre, With martiall ftauke hath he gone by our watch.

Hora. Inwhat perticular thought, to worke I know not, But in the groffe and scope of mine opinion,

This bodes fomeftrange eruption to our state.

Mar. Good now fit downe, and tell me he that knowes,
Why this fame ftrikt and moft obferuant watch
So nightly toiles the fubiect of the land,
And with fuch dayly coft of brazon Cannon
And forraine marte, for implements of warre,
Why fuch impreffe of fhip-writes, whose fore taske
Does not deuide the Sunday from theweeke,
What might be toward that this fweaty hast
Doth make the night ioynt labourer with the day,
Who ift that can informe mee?

Hora. That can I.

At least the whisper goes fo; our laft King,
Whofe image euen but now appear'd to vs,
Was as you knowe by Fortinbraffe of Norway,
Thereto prickt on by a most emulate pride
Dar'd to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet,
(For fo this fide of our knowne world efteemd him)
Didflay this Fortinbraffe, who by a feald compact
Well ratified by lawe and heraldy

B 2

Did