Hamlet

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CAMERA WHIRS:

Who's there? Nay, answer me!

Stand, and unfold yourself.

Long live the king! Bernardo? He.

You come most carefully

upon your hour.

'Tis now struck twelve -

get thee to bed, Francisco.

For this relief much thanks.

'Tis bitter cold,

and I am sick at heart.

Have you had quiet guard?

Not a mouse stirring.

Well, good night.

Stand, ho! Who's there?

Friends to this ground.

And liegemen to the Dane.

Give you good night.

Farewell, honest soldier.

Who hath relieved you?

Bernardo has my place.

Give you good night.

Holla! Bernardo!

Say, what, is Horatio there?

A piece of him. Welcome, Horatio,

welcome, good Marcellus.

What, has this thing

appeared again tonight?

I have seen nothing.

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 the apparition come,

he may approve our eyes

and speak to it.

Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.

Then let us once again

assail your ears,

that are so fortified

against our story

what we have two nights seen.

Well, let us hear Bernardo

speak of this.

Last night of all,

when yond 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...

Peace! Break thee off.

Look, where it comes again!

In the same figure,

like the king that's dead.

Thou art a scholar -

speak to it, Horatio.

Looks it not like the king?

Mark it, Horatio.

Most like, it harrows me with fear

and wonder. It would be spoke to.

Question it, Horatio.

What art thou

that usurp'st this time of night,

together with that

fair and warlike form

in which the majesty of buried

Denmark did sometimes march?

By heaven I charge thee, speak!

It is offended. See, it stalks away!

Stay! Speak, speak!

I charge thee, speak!

'Tis gone,

and will not answer.

Before my God,

I might not this believe

without the sensible and true avouch

of mine own eyes.

Thus twice before,

and jump at this dead hour,

with martial stalk

hath he gone by our watch.

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.

Good now, stand close,

and tell me, he that knows,

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.

What might be toward,

that this sweaty haste

doth make the night

joint-labourer with the day?

Who is't that can inform me?

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

dared to the combat,

in which our valiant Hamlet

did slay this Fortinbras, who thus

did forfeit, with his life,

all these his lands.

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,

to recover of us

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.

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 thou art privy

to thy country's fate,

which, happily,

foreknowing may avoid, O, speak!

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