The Tragedie of Hamlet

Fran. You come most carefully vpon your houre.

Bar. 'Tis now Strooke twelue, get thee to bed Francisco.

Fran. For this reliefèe much thanks,tis bitter cold,

And I am sick at heart.

Bar. Haue you had quiet guard ?

Fran. Not a Mouse flurring.

Bar. Well, good night :

If you doe meet Horatio and Marcellus.

The riualls of my watch, bid them make haſt.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Francisco. I thinke I haue them, stand ho, who is there ?

Hora. Friends to this ground.

Mar. And Leegemen to the Dane.

Fran. Giue you good night.

Marcellus. O, farewell honest Souldiers, who hath re-
lieu'd you?

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

Mar. Holla, Barnardo.

Bar. Say what, is Horatio there ?

Hora. A piece of him.

Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus.

Hora. What ha's this thing appear'd againe to night ?

Bar. I haue seene nothing.

Mar. Horatio fayes'tis but a fantafie,
And w'll not let beliefe take hold of him,

Touching this dreaded fight 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.

Hora. Tush, Tush, 'twill not appeare.

Bar. Sit downe a while,

And let vs once againe affaile your cares,

That

Prince of Denmarke.

That are so fortified against our ſtory,

What we haue two nights ſeene.

Hora. Well, fit we downe,

And let vs heare Barnardo speake of this.

Bar. Last night of all,

When yond same Star that's Westward from the Pole,

Had made his courſe t'llumin that part of heaven

Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my ſelfe

The Bell then beating one.

Enter Ghost.

Mar. Peace breake thee off looke where it comes againe,

Bar. In the same figure like the King that's dead.

Mar. Thou art a Scholler speake to it Horatio.

Hora. Moſt like, it horrowes me with ſeare and wonder.

Bar. It would be spoke to.

Mar. Speake to it Horatio.

Hora. What art thou that surpſt this time of night,

Together with that faire and warlike forme,

In which the Maiefly of buried Denmarke

Did ſomtimes march by heauen I charge thee speake.

Mar. It is offended.

Bar. See it ſtaukes away.

Hora. Stay, ſpeake, ſpeake I charge thee ſpeake.

Exit Ghost.

Mar. Tis gone and will not anſwere.

Bar. How now Horatio, you tremble & look pale,
Is not this ſomething more then phantafie ?

What thinke you of it ?

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

A 3

Mar.

BOUND BY

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Mar. Is it not like the King?

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

Tis strange.

Mar. Thus twice before and impe at this dead hour,
With Martiall ftauke hath he gone by our watch.

Hora. In what particular thought, to worke I know not,
But in the groſſe and ſcope of mine opinion.
This bodes ſome ſtrange eruption to our ſtate.

Mar. Good now fit downe, and tell me he that knowes.
Why this ſame strict and moſt obseruant watch
So nightly toiles the ſubieſt of the Land,
And with ſuch daily cost of brazen Cannon
And ſtraine Mart for Implements of warre,
Why ſuch impreſſe of ſhip-wrights, whose ſore taske,
Does not diuide the Sunday from the waeke,
What might be toward, that this ſweatie haſte.

Doth make the night joint labour with the day,
Who iſt that can informe me?

Hora. That can I.
At least the whifper goes ſo, our last King,
Whose Image euen but now appear'd to vs,
Was as you know by Fortinbraſſe of Norway,
Thereto prickt on by a moſt emulate pride.

Dard to the combate; in which our valiant Hamlet,
(For ſo this ſide of our knowne world eſteem'd him)

Did clay this Fortinbraſſe, who by a ſcal'd compact

Well ratified by Lawland Heraldrie

Did forfait (with his life) all those his lands.

Which he ſtood ſeaſ'd of, to the conquerout.

Against the which a moſt competent

Was gaged by our King, which had returne

To the inheritance of Fortinbraſſe.

Had

Prince of Denmarke.

Had he bin vanquifher; as by the ſame comart,
And carriage of the Articles defigne,
His ſell to Hamlet; now Sir, yong Fortinbraſſe
Of vnimprooued mettle, hot and full,
Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there
Sharkt vp a lift of lawleſſe resolutes
For food and diet to ſome enterprize
That hath a ſtomake in't, which no other
As it doth well appeare vnto our ſtate
But to recouer of vs by ſtrong hand
And tearmes compulsory, thoſe foreſaid lands
So by his father loft; and this I take it,
Is the maine motiue of our preparations
The ſource of this our watch, and the chieſe head
Of this poſt-haſte and romeage in the land.

Bar. I thinke it be no other but euen so;
Well may it ſort that this portentous ſigure
Comes armed through our watch ſo like the King
That was and is the queſtion of theſe warres.

Hora. A mote it is to trouble the minds eie :
In the moſt high and palmy ſtate of Romes,
A little ere the mightieſt Iulius ſell
The graues ſood temnantleſſe, and the ſhewed dead
Did ſqueake and gibber in the Roman ſteets
As ſtartes with traines of fire, and dewes of bloud
Diſafters in the Sun; and the moſt ſtarre,
Vpon whose influence Neptunes Empire stands,
VVas ſick almost to Doomesday with eclipſe
And euen the like precurſe of ſierce euent,
As Harbingers preceding ſtill the ſates
And Prologue to the Omen comming on
Haue Heauen and Earth together demonstrated
Vnto our Climatures and Countrimen.

Enter Ghoſt.

But ſoſt, behold, lo where it comes againe

Ille

The Tragedie of Hamlet

He croſſe it though it blaſt me: ſtay illuſion,
If thou haſt any ſound or vſe of voice,
Speake to me, if there be any good thing to be done
That may to thee doe eafe and grace to me,
Speake to me.
If thou art priuie to thy Countries fate
VVhich happily forekno wing may auoid,
O ſpeake:
Or if thou haſt vphoorded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the wombe of earth,
For which they ſay your ſpirits of ſtalke in death.
The Cocke
Speake of it, ſtay and ſpeake, ſtop it Marcellus.
Mar. Shall I ſtrike it with my partizan?
Hor. Doe it will not ſtand.
Bar. Tis heere.
Hor. Tis heere.
Mar. Tis, gone,
VVe doe it wrong being so Maieſticall.
To offer it the ſhow of violence,
For it is as the aire, invulnérable,
And our vaine blowes, malicious mockery.
Bar. It was about to ſpeak when the cock crew.
Hor. And then it ſtarted like a guilty thing,
Vpon a ſearfull ſummons; I haue heard,
The Cock that is the Trumpet to the morne,
Doth with his loftie and ſhrill ſounding throat
Awake the God of day, and at his warning
VWhether in Sea or Fire, in Earth or Aire,
Th' extrauagant and erring ſpirit hies
To his confine, and of the truth heerein
This preſent obiect made probation.
Mar. It faded on the crowing of the Cock,
Some ſay that euer gaineſt that ſeason comes,
VWherein our Sauiours birth is celebrated
This bird of dawning ſingeth all night long,
And then they ſay no ſpirit date ſtirre abroad
The nights are whole ſome, then no Planets ſtrike,
NoFainy takes, nor witch hath power to charme
It spreads
his armes.

So

Prince of Denmark.

So hallowed and so gracious is that time,

Hor. So haue I heard and doe in part beleeue it,
But looke the morne in ruffet mantle clad
Walkes ore the dew of yon high Eastward hill:
Breake we our watch vp and by my aduife,
Let vs impart what we haue ſeene to night
Vnto young Hamlet, for vpon my life
This ſpirit dumbe to vs, will ſpeake to him:
Doe you confess we shall acquaint him with it
As needfull in our loues fitring our dutie.

Mar. Lets doo't I pray, and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conuenient.

Exeunt.

Fleurish. Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrad the Queene, Counſaile: as Polonius, and his Sonne Laertes, Hamlet, cum alij.

Claud. Though yet of Hamlet our deare brothers death
The memory be greene, and that it vs befitted
To beare our hearts in griefe & our whole kingdom,
To be contracted in one brow of woe,
Yet so far bath discretion fought with nature,
That we with wiser ſorrow thinke on him
Together with remembrance of our ſelues:
Therefore our ſometime Sifter, now our Queene
Th' Imperiall ioyntrefſe to this warlike State
Haue we as twere with a defeated ioy
With an auſpitious, and a dropping eye,
With mirth in ſunerall, and with dirge in marriage,
In equall ſcale weighing delight and dole
Taken to wife: nor haue we herein bard
Your better wifdomes, which haue freely gone
With this affaire along (for all our thankes)
Now followes that you know young Fortinbraffe,
Holding a weake ſuppoſall of our worth
Or thinking by our late deare brothers death
Our ſtate to be diſioynt, and out of frame
Collegued with this dreame of his aduantage
He hath not faild to pefter vs with message

B

Im-

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Importing the surrender of those Lands
Loft by his father, with all bands of Law
To our most valiant brother, so much for him:
Now for our selfe, and for this time of meeting,
Thus much the businesse is, we haue here writ
To Norway Vncle of young Fortenbraffe
Who impotent and bedred scarcely heares
Of this his Nephtewes purpose; to suppreffe
His further gate herein, in that the leuies,
The lifts, and full proportions are all made,
Out of his subieſt, and we here diſpatch
You good Cornelius, and you Valtemand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,
Giuing to you no further perſonall power
To businesſe with the King, more then the ſcope
Of these delated Articles allow:

Farewell, and let your haſt commend your dutie.

Cor. Vo. In that, and all things will we ſhow our duty.

King. We doubt it nothing, hartily farewell.

And now *Laertes* what's the newes with you?

You told vs of some ſute, what iſt *Laertes*?

You cannot ſpeak of reaſon to the Dane.

And lose your voice; what would it thou beg *Laertes*?

That shall not be my offer, not thy asking.

The head is not more native to the heart.

The hand more instrumentall to the mouth

Then is the throne of *Denmarke* to thy father,

What would it thou haue *Laertes*?

Lar. My dread Lord.

Your leaue and fauour to returne to France,
From whence though willingly I came to *Denmarke*.

To ſhow my dutie in your Coronation;

Yet now I muſt conſſe, that dutie done

My thoughts and wisheſs bend againe toward France,

And bow them to your gracious leaue and pardon.

King. Haue you your fathers leaue, what faies Polonius?

Polo. He hath my Lord wrung from me my flow leaue

By labourſome petition, and at laſt

Vpon his will I ſeald my hard conſent,

I

Prince of Denmark.

I doe beſeech you giue him leaue to goe.

King. Take thy faire houre *Laertes*, time be thine,
And thy beſt graces ſpend it at thy will :

But now my Cousin *Hamlet*, and my ſonne.

*Ham.* A little more then kin, and leſſe then kind.

*King.* How is it that the clouds ſtill hang on you?

*Ham.* Not so much my Lord, I am too much in the ſonne.

*Queene.* Good *Hamlet* caſt thy nighted colour off
And let thine eie looke like a friend on *Denmarke*,

Doe not for euer with thy vailed lids,

Seeke for thy noble father in the duſt,

Thou know't it is common all that liues muſt die,

Paſſing through nature to eternitie.

*Ham.* I Madam, it is common.

*Quee.* If it be,
Why ſeemes it so perticuler with thee.
*Ham.* Seemes Madam, nay it is, I knownot ſeemes,

Tis not alone my inkie cloke could ſmother,

Nor customarie Sutes of ſolemne blacke,

Nor windie ſuſpiration of forſt breath,

No, nor the fruitfull Riuer in the eie,

Nor the dieeſed hauiour of the viſage,

Together with all ſormes, moods, ſhapes of grieſe

That can deuoute me truly, theſe indeed ſeeme,

For they are actions that a man might play,

But I haue that within which paſſes ſhow,

These but the trappings and the ſuites of woe.

*King.* Tis ſweet and commendable in your nature *Hamlet*,
To giue these mouning duties to your father,

But you muſt know your father loft a father.

That father loft, loft his, and the ſuruier bound

In filliall obligation for ſome tearme

To doe obſequious ſorrowes, but to perſuer

In obſtinate condelement, is a courſe

Of impious ſtubbornneſſe, tis vumanly grieſe,

It ſhowes a will moſt incorreſt to Heauen,

A heart vnfortified, or minde impatient,

An vnderstanding ſimple and vnſchoold,

For what we know muſt be, and is as common

B 2

Aa

The Tragedie of Hamlet

As any the most vulgar thing to fence,
Why should we in our peecuith opposition
Take it to heart, fie, tis a fault to heauen,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reafon most ablurd, whose common theame
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cryed
From the first course, till he that died to day
This must be so: we pray you throw to earth
This vnpreuailing woe, and thinke of vs
As of a father, for let the World take note
You are the most immediate to our throne,
And with no lesse nobilitie of loue
Then that which dearest father beares his fonde,
Doe I impart toward you for your intent,
In going backe to Schoole to Wittenberg,
It is most retrograd to our desire,
And we beſeeth you bend you to remaine
Heere in the cheare and comfort of our eie,
Our chiefest Courtier, Cousin, and our ſonne.
Qu, Let not thy mother loose her praiers Hamlet,
I pray thee ſay with vs, goe not to Wittenberg.

Ham. I ſhall in all my best obay you Madame.
King. Why, tis a louing and a faire reply,
Be as our ſelfe in Danmarke, Madame come,
This gentle and vnfor'd accord of Hamlet
Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof,
No iocond health that Danmarke drinkes to day,
But the great Canon to the cloudes shall tell.
And the Kings rowſe the Heauen ſhal brute againe,
Reſpeaking earthly thunder; come away. Flourish. Exeunt all.

Ham. O that this too too fallied flesh would melt; but Hamlet
Thaw and refolve it ſelfe into a dew,
Or that the eerlaſting had not fixt
His Cannon gainſt ſeale ſlaughter, O God, God,
How wary, ſtale, flat, and vnprofitable
Seeme to me all the vſes of this World?
Fie on't, ah fie, tis an vnweeded Garden,
That growes to feed, things ranke & groſſe in nature,
Poffeſſe it meereely that it should come thus

But

Prince of Denmark.

But two moneths dead, may not so much, not two,
So excellent a King, that was to this
Hyperion to a Satyre, so louing to my mother,
That he might not beteeme the winds of Heauen
Visit her face too roughly: heauen and earth
Must I remember, why ſhe should hang on him
As if increase of appetite had growne
By what it fed on, and yet within a moneth,
Let me not thinke on't; frailtie thy name is woman
A little month. Or ere those ſhooes were old
With which ſhe followed my poore fathers bodie
Like Niobe all teares, why ſhee
O God ! a beaſt that wants diſcourse of reaſon
Would haue mourn'd longer, married with my Vncle,
My fathers brother, but no more like my father
Then I to Hercules, within a moneth,
Ere yet the salt of moſt vnrighteous teares
Had left the flushing in her gauled eies
She married Oh ! moſt wicked ſpeed; to poſt
With ſuch dexteritie to inceſtious ſheets,
It is not, nor it cannot come to good,
But breake my heart for I muſt hold my tongue.

Enter Horatio, Marcellus and Bernardo.

Hora. Haile to your Lordship. (ſelfe,
Ham. I am glad to ſee you well; Horatio, or I doe forget my
Hora. The fame my Lord, and your poore ſeruant euer.
Ham. Sir my good friend, Ile change that name with you,
And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?

Marcellus.

Mar. My good Lord.
Ham. I am very glad to ſee you (good euen fir)
But what in faith make you from Wittenberg?

Hora. A truant diſposition good my Lord.
Ham. I would not heare your enemie ſay so,
Nor shall you doe my care that violence
To make it truſter of your owne report
Against your ſelfe, I know you are no truant,
But what is your affaire in Elſonoure?

Weele teach you for to drinke ere you depart.

B 3

Horat.