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In the most high and a palmy stace of Rome,
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
The graves stood tenantless, the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets,
Stars Thone with trains of fire, dews of blood fell,
Disasters veil'd the sun, and the moist ftar,
Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands,
Was sick almost to doom's-day with eclipse.
And even the like precurse of fierce events,
As harbingers preceding still the fates,
And prologue to the 2 /omen'd' coming on,
Have heav'n and earth together demonstrated
Unto our climatures and country-men.

Enter Ghost again.
But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!
I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!

[Spreading his arms.
If thou hast any found, 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 fore-knowing may avoid,
Oh speak
Or, if thou hast uphoorded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, [Cock crows.
For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,
Speak of it. Stay, and speak--Stop it, Marcellusamad
Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partizan?
Hor. Do, if it will not stand.
Ber. 'Tis here.
Hor. 'Tis here
Mar. 'Tis gone.

[Exit Ghoft. We do it wrong, being so majestical, X 2

To (a) Palmy for victorious.

Warburton. 2 omen . . , old edit. Theeb. emend,

To offer it the shew of violence
For it is as the air, invulnerable,
And our vain blows malicious mockery.

Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew.

Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and Thrill-founding throat
Awake the God of day; and at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
Th' extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine : and of the truth herein
This present object made probation.

Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock.
Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
And then, they say, no spirit walks abroad,
The nights are wholsome, then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, no witch hath power to charm ;
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

Hor. So have I heard, and do in part believe it.
But look, the morn in ruffet mantle clad
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill ;
Break we our watch up, and by my advice
Let us impart what we have seen to-night
Unto 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 ?

Mar. Let's do't, I pray ; and I this morning know Where we shall find him most conveniently. [Exeunt.

SCENE

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Entor Claudius King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, Voltimand, Cornelius,

Lords and Attendants.

King. T Hough

yer of Hamlet our dear brother's death

The memory be green, and that it fitted
To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
To be contracted in one brow of woe;
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature,
That we with wiseft forrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of our selves.
Therefore our sometime fister, now our Queen,
Th' imperial jointress of this warlike state,
Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,
With one auspicious, and one dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole,
Taken to wife. Nor have we herein barr'd
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along; (for all, our thanks !)
Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras
Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame;
Collogued with this dream of his advantage,
He hath not failed to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, by all bands of law,
To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
Now for our self, and for this time of ineering:
Thus much the business is. We have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,

Who

X 3

Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress
His further gate herein ; in that the levies,
The lists, and full proportions, are all made
Out of his subjects, and we here dispatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
Giving to you no further personal power
Of treaty with the King, more than the scope
Which these dilated articles allow.
Farewel, and lec your hafte commend your duty,

Vol. In that, and all things, will we shew our duty.
King. We doubt it nothing, heartily farewel.

[Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius,
And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?
You told us of some suit. What is't, 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 3 'blood' is not more native to the heart,
The hand more inftrumental to the mouth,
Than + 'to' the Throne of Denmark s lis'chy father..
What would'st thou have, Laertes ?

Laer. My dread Lord,
Your leave and favour to return to France;
From whence though willingly I came to Denmark
To shew, my duty in your coronation ;
Yet now I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again tow'rd France :
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon, i

King. Have you your father's leave? what says Polonius?"

Pol. He hath, my Lord, by laboursome petition,
Wrung from me my now leave; and at the last
Upon his will I seald my hard consent.
I do beseech you give him leave to go.

King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes, time be thine,
3 head ...old edit. Warb, emend.
Aisi .. eld edit. Warb, emend. ş to... ed edit. Warb. emend.

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'And

And thy best graces spend it at thy will.
But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my fon

Ham. A little more than kin, and less than kind.
King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
Ham. Not fo; my Lord, I am too niuch i'th'- fün.

Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
Do not, for ever, with thy veiled lids,
Seek for thy noble father in the dust;
Thou know'st 'tis common, all that live must die,
Passing thro' nature to eternity.

Ham. Ay, Madam, it is common.

Queen. If it be,
Why seems it so particular with thee ?

Ham. Seems, Madam? nay, it is; I know not seems :
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary luits of folemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, moods, shews of grief,
That can denote me truly. These indeed seem,
For they are actions that a man might play;
But I have that within, which passeth show:
Thele, but the trappings, and the suits of woe.

King. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature,
To give these mourning duties to your father ;
But you must know, your father loft a father,
That father his, and the surviver bound
In filial obligation, for some term
To do obfequious sorrow.' But to persevere
In obstinate condolement, is a course
Of impious stubbornness, unmanly grief.
It shews a will most incorrect to heaven,
A heart unfortify'd, a mind impatient,
X 4

An (a) It is not unreasonable to suppose that this was a proverbial expreffion known in former times for a Relation so blended and confused that it was hard to define it.

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