Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/768

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152

THE TRAGEDIE OF

HAMLET, Prince of Denmarke.



Actus Primus. Scœna Prima.



Enter Barnardo and Franciſco two Centinelſ.

Barnardo.

WHo's there?

Fran. Nay anſwer me: Stand & vnfold your ſelfe.

Bar. Long liue the King.

Fran. Barnardo?

Bar. He.

Fran. You come moſt 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?

Fran. Not a Mouſe ſtirring.

Barn. Well, goodnight. If you do meet Horatio and
Marcelluſ, the Riualſ of my Watch, bid them make haſt.

Enter Horatio and Marcelluſ.

Fran. I thinke I heare them. Stand: who'ſ there?

Hor. Friendſ to thiſ ground.

Mar. And Leige-men to the Dane.

Fran. Giue you good night.

Mar. O farwel honeſt Soldier, who hath relieu'd you?

Fra. Barnardo ha'ſ my place: giue you goodnight.

Exit Fran.

Mar. Holla Barnardo.

Bar. Say, what iſ Horatio there?

Hor. A peece of him.

Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcelluſ.

Mar. What, ha'ſ thiſ thing appear'd againe to night.

Bar. I haue ſeene nothing.

Mar. Horatio ſaieſ, 'tiſ but our Fantaſie,
And will not let beleefe take hold of him
Touching thiſ dreaded ſight, twice ſeene of vſ,
Therefore 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. Tuſh, tuſh, 'twill not appeare.

Bar. Sit downe a-while,
And let vſ once againe aſſaile your eareſ,
That are ſo fortified againſt our Story,
What we two Nightſ haue ſeene.

Hor. Well, ſit we downe,
And let vſ heare Barnardo ſpeake of thiſ.

Barn. Laſt night of all,
When yond ſame Starre that'ſ Weſtward from the Pole
Had made hiſ courſe t'illume that part of Heauen
Where now it burneſ, Marcelluſ and my ſelfe,
The Bell then beating one.

Mar. Peace, breake thee of: Enter the Ghoſt.
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.

Barn. Lookeſ it not like the King? Marke it Horatio.

Hora. Moſt like: It harroweſ me with fear & wonder

Barn. It would be ſpoke too.

Mar. Queſtion it Horatio.

Hor. What art thou that vſurp'ſt thiſ time of night,
Together with that Faire and Warlike forme
In which the Maieſty of buried Denmarke
Did ſometimeſ march: By Heauen I charge thee ſpeake.

Mar. It iſ offended.

Barn. See, it ſtalkeſ away.

Hor. Stay: ſpeake; ſpeake: I Charge thee, ſpeake.

Exit the Ghoſt.

Mar. 'Tiſ gone, and will not anſwer.

Barn. How now Horatio? You tremble & look pale:
Iſ not thiſ ſomething more then Fantaſie?
What thinke you on't?

Hor. Before my God, I might not thiſ beleeue
Without the ſenſible and true auouch Of mine owne eyeſ.

Mar. Iſ it not like the King?

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.
'Tiſ ſtrange.

Mar. Thuſ twice before, and iuſt 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 groſſe and ſcope of my Opinion,
Thiſ boadeſ ſome ſtrange erruption to our State.

Mar. Good now ſit downe, & tell me he that knoweſ
Why thiſ ſame ſtrict and moſt obſeruant Watch,
So nightly toyleſ the ſubiect of the Land,
And why ſuch dayly Caſt of Brazon Cannon
And Forraigne Mart for Implementſ of warre:
Why ſuch impreſſe of Ship-wrightſ, whoſe ſore Taſke
Do'ſ not diuide the Sunday from the weeke,
What might be toward, that thiſ ſweaty haſt
Doth make the Night ioynt-Labourer with the day:
Who iſ't that can informe me?

Hor. That can I,