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d gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man, hence, and leave me;-think upon these gone; them affright thee.-I beseech thee, youth, up not another sin upon my head, y urging me to fury:-0, be gone!

'y heaven, I love thee better than myself:
For I come hither arm'd against myself:
Stay not, be gone;-live, and hereafter say-
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
Pur. I do defy thy conjurations,9
And do attach thee as a felon here.

Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy. [They fight. Page. O lord! they fight, I will go call the [Exit Page. Par. O. I am slain! [Falls.]-If thou be merciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.



Rom. In faith, I will:-Let me peruse this face;Mercutio's kinsman, noble county Paris:What said my man, when my betossed soul Did not attend him as we rode ? I think, He told me Paris should have married Juliet: Said he not so? or did I dream it so?

Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was so ?-O, give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave,-

A grave! O, no; a lantern, slaughter'd youth,
For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence' full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.
[Laying PARIS in the Monument.
How oft, when men are at the point of death,
Have they been merry? which their keepers call
A lightning before death;-0, how may I
Call this a lightning!-0, my love! my wife!
Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.-
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what more favor can I do to thee,
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain,
To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin!-Ah, dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe
That unsubstantial death is amorous;
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I will still stay with thee;
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again; here, here will I remain
With worms that are thy chambermaids; O, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest;
And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.-Eyes, look your

last! Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you, The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death!Come, bitter conduct,2 come, unsavory guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! Here's to my love!-[Drinks.] O, true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick-Thus with a kiss I die.


Enter, at the other End of the Churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a Lantern, Crow, and Spade. Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night flave my old feet stumbled at graves!-Who's there?

Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead? Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.

Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,

What torch is yond', that vainly lends his light

I refuse to do as thou conjurest me to do, i.e. to depart. Presence-chamber. 2 Conductor.

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O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.

Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, I dreamt my master and another fought, And that my master slew him. Fri.

Romeo! [Advances. Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre ?-What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolor'd by this place of peace? [Enters the Monument. Romeo! O, pale!-Who else? what, Paris, too? And steep'd in blood?-Ah, what an unkind hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance!— The lady stirs. [JULIET wakes and stirs. Jul. O, comfortable friar! where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am:-Where is my Romeo?

[Noise within. Fri. I hear some noise.-Lady, come from that


Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep;
A greater Power than we can contradict
Hath thwarted our intents; come, come away:
Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
And Paris too: come, I'll dispose of thee
Among a sisterhood of holy nuns:
Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;
Come, go, good Juliet,-[Noise again.] I dare stay
no longer.
Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.-
What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's hand?
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:-
O churl! drink all; and leave no friendly drop,
To help me after?-I will kiss thy lips;
Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative. [Kisses him.
Thy lips are warm!

1 Watch. [Within.] Lead, boy:-Which way? Jul. Yea, noise?-Then I'll be brief.-O happy dagger! [Snatching ROMEO's Dagger. This is thy sheath; [Stabs herself.] there rust, and

let me die.

[Falls on ROMEO's Body, and dies. Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS.

Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.

1 Watch. The ground is bloody; Search about the churchyard:

Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach.
[Exeunt some.
Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain;-
And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead,
Who here hath lain these two days buried.-
Go, tell the prince,-run to the Capulets,-
Raise up the Montagues, some others search;—
[Exeunt other Watchmen
We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes
We cannot without circumstance descry.

Enter some of the Watch, with BALTHAZAR. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the churchyard.

1 Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.

Enter another Watchman, with FRIAR LAURENCE. 3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, and weeps: We took this mattock and this spade from him, As he was coming from this churchyard side. 1 Watch. A great suspicion: Stay the friar too. Enter the PRINCE and Attendants. Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest!

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To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
Being the time the potion's force should ceas
But he which bore my letter, friar John,
Was staid by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my letter back: Then all alone,
At the prefixed hour of her waking,
Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
But, when I came, (some minute ere the time
Of her awakening,) here untimely lay
The noble Paris, and true Romeo, dead.
She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of heaven with patience:
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;
And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
But (as it seems) did violence on herself.
All this I know; and to the marriage,
Her nurse is privy: And, if aught in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrificed, some hour before his time,
Unto the rigor of severest law.

Prince. We still have known thee for a holy


Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: I married them; and their stolen marriage-day Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city: For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. You-to remove that siege of grief from her,Betroth'd, and would have married her perforce, To county Paris:-Then comes she to me; And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means To rid her from this second marriage, Or, in my cell there would she kill herself. Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, A sleeping potion; which so took effect As I intended, for it wrought on her The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, That he should hither come at this dire night, e. The scabbard.

• Seat.

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CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark.

FRANCISCO, a Soldier.

HAMLET, Son to the former, and Nephew to the REYNALDO, Servant to Polonius. present King.

A Captain.

An Ambassador.

POLONIUS, Lord Chamberlain.
HORATIO, Friend to Hamlet.
LAERTES, Son to Polonius.


OSRIC, a Courtier.

Another Courtier.
A Priest.



SCENE I.- - Elsinore. A Platform before the
FRANCISCO on his Post. Enter to him Bernardo.
Ber. Who's there?

Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold

Ber. Long live the king!


SCENE, Elsinore.




Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour. Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed,



Fran. For this relief, much thanks; 'tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart.

Ber. Have you had quiet guard?

Fran. Not a mouse stirring.

Ber. Well, good-night.

If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,

The rivals' of my watch, bid them make haste. Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.

Fran. I think, I hear them.-Stand, ho! Who is there?

O, farewell, honest soldier:

Hor. Friends to this ground.
And liegemen to the Dane.
Fran. Give you good-night.
Who hath relieved you?
Give you good-night.

What, is Horatio there?
Ber. Welcome, Horatio; Welcome, good Mar-

A piece of him.

Ghost of Hamlet's Father.

FORTINBRAS, Prince of Norway

Bernardo hath my place. [Exit FRANCISCO. Holla! Bernardo!


GERTRUDE, Queen of Denmark, and Mother of Hamlet.

OPHELIA, Daughter of Polonius.

Hor. What, has this thing appear'd again to

night? Ber. I have seen nothing.

1 Partners.

Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Players, Gravediggers, Sailors, Messengers, and ciher Attend



Mar. Horatio says, 'tis but our fantasy, And will not let belief take hold of him, Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us; Therefore I have entreated him, along With us to watch the minutes of this night; That, if again this apparition come, He may approve2 our eyes, and speak to it. Hor. Tush! tush! 'twill not appear. Ber. Sit down awhile; And let us once again assail your ears, What we two nights have seen. That are so fortified against our story,


Well, sit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. Ber. Last night of all,

When yon same star, that's westward from the pole,
Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus, and myself,
The bell then beating one,-

Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

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But in the gross and scope of mine opinion,
This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
Mar. Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that

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,
Dared 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 com-

Well ratified by law and heraldry,
Did forfeit with his life, all those his lands,
Which he stood seis'd of, to the conqueror:
Against the which, a moiety competent
Was gaged by our king; which had return'd
To the inheritance of Fortinbras,
Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same comart,7
And carriage of the article design'd,s
His fell to Hamlet: Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
Of unimproved mettle hot and full,9

Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there,
Shark'd' up a list of landless resolutes,
For food and diet, to some enterprise
That hath a stomach2 in't; which is no other,
(As it doth well appear unto our state,)
But to recover of us, by strong hand,
And terms compulsatory, those 'foresaid lands
So 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 head
Of this post-haste and romage in the land.

Ber. I think, it be no other, but even so:
Well may it sort,4 that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch; so like the king
That was, and is, the question of these wars.

Hor. 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 dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.

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.

Why this same strict and most observant watch
So nightly toils the subject of the land;
And why such daily cast of brazen cannon,
And foreign mart for implements of war:
Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,

Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew
Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing

Does not divide the Sunday from the week:
What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
Doth make the night joint-laborer with the day;
Who is't, that can inform me?

The cock, that is the trumpet of the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day; and, at his warming,
Whether in sea or tire, in earth or air,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his contine: 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,
This bird of dawning singeth all night long:

And then they say no spirit dares 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.

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If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,
O speak!

Or, if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the womb of earth.
For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,
[Cock crows.
Speak of it:-stay, and speak.-Stop it, Marcellus.
Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partizan?s
Hor. Do, if it will not stand.

Mar. 'Tis gone.

'Tis here!
'Tis here!
[Exit Ghost

Hor. 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 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 convenient.


SCENE II-A Room of State in the same. Enter the KING, QUEEN, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants.

King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death

The memory be green; and that it us befitted
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 wisest sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
The imperial jointress of this warlike state,
Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,-
With one auspicious, and one drooping 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.

• A sort of pike.

• Grief

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,
Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bands of law,
To our most valiant brother.-So much for him.

⚫ Wandering,

• Proof ■ Berds

Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting.
Thus much the business is: We have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,-
Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew's purpose,-to suppress
His further gait herein; in that the levies,
The lists, and full proportions, are all made
Out of his subject:-and we here despatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
Giving to you no further personal power
To business with the king, more than the scope
Of these dilated articles allow.
Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty.
Cor. Vol. In that, and all things, will we show
our duty.

King. We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.
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,


That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
The head is not more native to the heart,
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

And lose your voice: What wouldst thou beg, This gentle and unfore'd accord of Hamlet

Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,
No jocund health, that Denmark drinks to-day,
But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell;
And the king's rouse the heaven shall bruit again
Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.

[Exeunt KING, QUEEN, Lords, &C., POLONIUS,

Ham. O, that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon' 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fye on't! O fye! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in nature,
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead!--nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother,
That he might not beteem3 the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him
As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on: And yet, within a month,-
Let me not think on't;-Frailty, thy name is

If it be,

Why seems it so particular with thee?
Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not


'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage,
Together with all forms, modes, shows 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;
These, but the trappings and the suits of woe.
King. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your
nature, Hamlet,

To give these mourning duties to your father:
But, you must know, your father lost a father;
That father lost, lost his; and the survivor bound
In filial obligation, for some term

My dread lord,
Your leave and favor to return to France;
From whence, though willingly, I came to Den-

To show my duty in your coronation;
Yet now I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France,
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
King. Have you your father's leave? What says


Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow

By laborsome petition; and, at last,
Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:
I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
And thy best graces: spend it at thy will.-
But now, my c usin Hamlet, and my son,———
Ham. A little more than kin, and less than kind.
King. How is it that the clouds still hang on

Ham. Not so, my lord, I am too much i' the sun. Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not, for ever, with thy vailed lidss

Seek for thy noble father in the dust:

Thou know'st 'tis common; all, that live, must die, Than I to Hercules: Within a month;
Passing through nature to eternity.

Ham. Ay, madam, it is common.

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married:-0 most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to, good;

But break, my heart: for I must hold my tongue!

To do obsequious sorrow: But to perséver
In obstinate condolement, is a course

To reason most absurd; whose common theme
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
From the first corse, till he that died to-day,
This must be so. We pray you, throw to earth
This unprevailing woe; and think of us
As of a father; for let the world take note,
You are the most immediate to our throne;
And, with no less nobility of love,
Than that which dearest father bears his son,
Do I impart toward you. For your intent
In going back to school in Wittenberg,
It is most retrogrades to our desire:
And, we beseech you, bend you to remain
Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers

Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief:
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
A heart unfortified, or mind impatient;
An understanding simple and unschool'd:
For what, we know, must be, and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we, in our peevish opposition,
Take it to heart? Fye! 'tis a fault to heaven,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
Lowering eyes.

• Way, path.

I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.
Ham. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
King. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply;
Be as ourself in Denmark.-Madam, come;

A little month; or ere those shoes were old,
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears;-why she, even she,-
O heaven! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer,-married with my

My father's brother; but no more like my father,

Hor. Hail to your lordship!
I am glad to see you well:
Horatio, or I do forget myself.
Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant


Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name
with you.

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?

Mar. My good lord,

Ham. I am very glad to see you; good-even, sir.

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.
Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so:
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself: I know, you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinore?
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.
Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow.

I think, it was to see my mother's wedding.

• Report.

• Contrary.
1 Law.

• Draught.
• Apollo.

⚫ Dissolve.

■ Suffer.

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