Act IScene I
Elsinore. A platform before the Castle
Enter Francisco and Barnardo, two sentinels.
Barnardo
Who’s there?
Francisco
Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.
Barnardo
Long live the King!
Francisco
Barnardo?
Barnardo
He.
Francisco
You come most carefully upon your hour.
Barnardo
’Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.
Francisco
For this relief much thanks. ’Tis bitter cold,And I am sick at heart.
Barnardo
Have you had quiet guard?
Francisco
Not a mouse stirring.
Barnardo
Well, good night.If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
Francisco
I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who is there?
Horatio
Friends to this ground.
Marcellus
And liegemen to the Dane.
Francisco
Give you good night.
Marcellus
O, farewell, honest soldier, who hath reliev’d you?
Francisco
Barnardo has my place. Give you good-night.
Exit.
Marcellus
Holla, Barnardo!
Barnardo
Say, what, is Horatio there?
Horatio
A piece of him.
Barnardo
Welcome, Horatio. Welcome, good Marcellus.
Marcellus
What, has this thing appear’d again tonight?
Barnardo
I have seen nothing.
Marcellus
Horatio says ’tis but our fantasy,And will not let belief take hold of himTouching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us.Therefore I have entreated him alongWith us to watch the minutes of this night,That if again this apparition comeHe may approve our eyes and speak to it.
Horatio
Tush, tush, ’twill not appear.
Barnardo
Sit down awhile,And let us once again assail your ears,That are so fortified against our story,What we two nights have seen.
Horatio
Well, sit we down,And let us hear Barnardo speak of this.
Barnardo
Last night of all,When yond same star that’s westward from the pole,Had made his course t’illume that part of heavenWhere now it burns, Marcellus and myself,The bell then beating one—
Marcellus
Peace, break thee off. Look where it comes again.
Enter Ghost.
Barnardo
In the same figure, like the King that’s dead.
Marcellus
Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
Barnardo
Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.
Horatio
Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.
Barnardo
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 formIn which the majesty of buried DenmarkDid sometimes march? By heaven I charge thee speak.
Marcellus
It is offended.
Barnardo
See, it stalks away.
Horatio
Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee speak!
Exit Ghost.
Marcellus
’Tis gone, and will not answer.
Barnardo
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 believeWithout the sensible and true avouchOf mine own eyes.
Marcellus
Is it not like the King?
Horatio
As thou art to thyself:Such was the very armour he had onWhen he th’ambitious Norway combated;So frown’d he once, when in an angry parleHe 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 watchSo nightly toils the subject of the land,And why such daily cast of brazen cannonAnd foreign mart for implements of war;Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore taskDoes not divide the Sunday from the week.What might be toward, that this sweaty hasteDoth 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,Dar’d 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 landsWhich he stood seiz’d of, to the conqueror;Against the which, a moiety competentWas gaged by our King; which had return’dTo the inheritance of Fortinbras,Had he been vanquisher; as by the same cov’nantAnd 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 enterpriseThat hath a stomach in’t; which is no other,As it doth well appear unto our state,But to recover of us by strong handAnd terms compulsatory, those foresaid landsSo 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 headOf this post-haste and rummage in the land.
Barnardo
I think it be no other but e’en so:Well may it sort that this portentous figureComes armed through our watch so like the KingThat 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 deadDid 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 fatesAnd prologue to the omen coming on,Have heaven and earth together demonstratedUnto our climatures and countrymen.
Re-enter Ghost.
But, soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again!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.If thou art privy to thy country’s fate,Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,O speak!Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy lifeExtorted treasure in the womb of earth,For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,Speak of it. Stay, and speak!
The cock crows.
Stop it, Marcellus!
Marcellus
Shall I strike at it with my partisan?
Horatio
Do, if it will not stand.
Barnardo
’Tis here!
Horatio
’Tis here!
Exit Ghost.
Marcellus
’Tis gone!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.
Barnardo
It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
Horatio
And then it started, like a guilty thingUpon a fearful summons. I have heardThe cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throatAwake the god of day; and at his warning,Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,Th’extravagant and erring spirit hiesTo his confine. And of the truth hereinThis present object made probation.
Marcellus
It faded on the crowing of the cock.Some say that ever ’gainst that season comesWherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,The bird of dawning singeth all night long;And then, they say, no spirit dare 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 tonightUnto 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 knowWhere we shall find him most conveniently.
Exeunt.