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Hamlet is a play by William Shakespeare, best known for Hamlet's Aside.

The play is anent the atheling of Denmark, who works to atone for the murder of his father.

The following is an overbringing of the play:

DON I

STEAD I. Elsinore. A flat floor before the stonghold.

FRANCISCO at his stead. Ingoes to him BERNARDO

BERNARDO

Who's there?

FRANCISCO

Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.

BERNARDO

Long live the king!

FRANCISCO

Bernardo?

BERNARDO

He.

FRANCISCO

You come most carefully upon your stund.

BERNARDO

'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.

FRANCISCO

For this help much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart.

BERNARDO

Have you had still watch?

FRANCISCO

Not a mouse stirring.

BERNARDO

Well, good night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The neighbors of my watch, bid them make speed.

FRANCISCO

I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there?

Ingo HORATIO and MARCELLUS

HORATIO

Friends to this ground.

MARCELLUS

And eldermen to the Dane.

FRANCISCO

Give you good night.

MARCELLUS

O, farewell, upright fighter: Who hath called you back?

FRANCISCO

Bernardo has my stead. Give you good night.

Outgo

MARCELLUS

Holla! Bernardo!

BERNARDO

Say, What, is Horatio there?

HORATIO

A bit of him.

BERNARDO

Welcome, Horatio:welcome, good Marcellus.

MARCELLUS

What, has this thing came forth again to-night?

BERNARDO

I have seen nothing.

MARCELLUS

Horatio says 'tis but our whimsy, And will not let belief take hold of him Knocking this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: Therefore I have besought him along With us to watch the short tides of this night; That if again this sighting come, He may befind our eyes and speak to it.

HORATIO

Tush, tush, 'twill not show.

BERNARDO

Sit down awhile; And let us once again strike your ears, That are so strengthened against our tale What we have two nights seen.

HORATIO

Well, sit we down, And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.

BERNARDO

Last night of all, When yond same star that's westward from the andaxle Had made his way to light that share of heaven Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, The bell then beating one,--

Ingo Ghost

MARCELLUS

Frith, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

BERNARDO

In the same shape, like the king that's dead.

MARCELLUS

Thou art a loreman; speak to it, Horatio.

BERNARDO

Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.

HORATIO

Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.

BERNARDO

It would be spoke to.

MARCELLUS

Ask it, Horatio.

HORATIO

What art thou that sought after this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike shape In which the greatness of buried Denmark Did sometimes walk? by heaven I burden thee, speak!

MARCELLUS

It is harmed.

BERNARDO

See, it stalks away!

HORATIO

Stay! speak, speak! I burden thee, speak!

Outgo Ghost

MARCELLUS

'Tis gone, and will not answer.

BERNARDO

How now, Horatio! you shake and look white: Is not this something more than whimsy? What think you on't?

HORATIO

Before my God, I might not this believe Without the feeling and true witness Of mine own eyes.

MARCELLUS

Is it not like the king?

HORATIO

As thou art to thyself: Such was the very weaponwear he had on When he the yearning Norway fought; So wried he once, when, in an angry speech, He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. 'Tis outlandish.

MARCELLUS

Thus twice before, and leap at this dead stund, With warlike stalk hath he gone by our watch.

HORATIO

In what share of thought to work I know not; But in the thick and sight of my doom, This bodes some outlandish outbreak to our rike.

MARCELLUS

Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, Why this same tight and most heeded watch So nightly works the underthrow of the land, And why such daily cast of brazen blunderbuss, And outstead hall for tools of war; Why such incrowd of shipwrights, whose sore task Does not sunder the Sunday from the week; What might be toward, that this sweaty speed Doth make the night yoke-worker with the day: Who is't that can tell me?

HORATIO

That can I; At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, Whose likeness even but now came to us, Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, Thereto prick'd on by a most likesome pride, Dared to the fight; in which our bold Hamlet-- For so this side of our known world beworth’d him-- Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a stamp’d bond, Well deemed by law and wealth, Did thole, with his life, all those his lands Which he took loss for, to the downfaller: Against the which, a half fiter Was sworn by our king; which had backwrung To the bequeathing of Fortinbras, Had he been overcomer; as, by the same oath, And farry of the bookstaff marked, His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, Of unbettered ore hot and full, Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there Shark'd up a list of lawless backlooseners, For food and health, to some undertaking That hath a maw in't; which is no other-- As it doth well show unto our rike-- But to come back of us, by strong hand And ends binding, those foresaid lands So by his father lost: and this, I take it, Is the main drive of our foremakings, The wellspring of this our watch and the foremost head Of this fast-speed and search in the land.

BERNARDO

I think it be no other but e'en so: Well may it set that this threatening shape Comes weaponed through our watch; so like the king That was and is the asking of these wars.

HORATIO

A mote it is to stir the mind's eye. In the most high and lofty rike of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood holderless and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman roads: As stars with draws of fire and dews of blood, Illstars in the sun; and the wet star Upon whose inflow Neptune's kingdom stands Was sick almost to doomsday with waning: And even the like forerun of wild happenings, As shelters foregoing still the weirds And forespeech to the foreboding coming on, Have heaven and earth together shown Unto our slopes and landmen.-- But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!

Again-ingo Ghost

I'll rood it, though it blast me. Stay, mindshade! If thou hast any din, or brook of stefen, Speak to me: If there be any good thing to be done, That may to thee do help and thanks to me, Speak to me:

Cock crows

If thou art friend to thy land's wierd, Which, happily, foreknowing may withdraw, O, speak! Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life Outwrenched hoard in the womb of earth, For which, they say, you ghosts oft walk in death, Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus.

MARCELLUS

Shall I strike at it with my spear?

HORATIO

Do, if it will not stand.

BERNARDO

'Tis here!

HORATIO

'Tis here!

MARCELLUS

'Tis gone!

Outgo Ghost

We do it wrong, being so great, To give it the show of strength; For it is, as the loft, unwoundsome, And our worthless blows wicked sneering.

BERNARDO

It was about to speak, when the cock crew.

HORATIO

And then it started like a guilty thing Upon a fearful calling. I have heard, The cock, that is the horn to the morning, Doth with his lofty and shrill-dining throat Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or loft, The outwandering and forlorn ghost hies To his narrow: and of the truth herein This forebeen thing made doom.

MARCELLUS

It withered on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever 'gainst that tide comes Wherein our Healer’s birth is crowded, The bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then, they say, no ghost dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no stars strike, No elf takes, nor witch hath might to bewitch, So hallow'd and so friendly is the time.

HORATIO

So have I heard and do in share believe it. But, look, the morn, in reddish mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill: Break we our watch up; and by my deeming, Let us inshare what we have seen to-night Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, This ghost, dumb to us, will speak to him. Do you feel that we shall make known him with it, As needful in our loves, fitting our oath?

MARCELLUS

Let's do't, I bede; and I this morning know Where we shall find him most commingly.

Outgoen

Stead II. A room of ethel in the stonghold.

Ingo KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Watchmen

KING CLAUDIUS

Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The awareness be green, and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in sorrow and our whole kingdom To be drawn in one brow of woe, Yet so far hath sifting fought with life That we with wisest sorrow think on him, Together with awareness of ourselves. Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, The mighty yoke lady to this warlike rike, Have we, as 'twere with a befallen luck,-- With an blessed and a dropping eye, With mirth in burial and with weeping in wedlock, In a same meather weighing bliss and soreness,-- Taken to wife: nor have we herein gat'd Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this business along. For all, our thanks. Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, Holding a weak guess of our worth, Or thinking by our late dear brother's death Our rike to be unyoked and out of frame, Banded with the dream of his upworth, He hath not miss'd to scathe us with tidings, Inbringing the upgive of those lands Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, To our most bold brother. So much for him. Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: Thus much the business is: we have here writ To Norway, ohm of young Fortinbras,-- Who, weak and bed-rid, hardly hears Of this his nefa’s goal,--to put down His further gait herein; in that the raises, The lists and full shares, are all made Out of his doom: and we here send off You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; Giving to you no further selfsame might To business with the king, more than the sight Of these deemed staves bestow. Farewell, and let your speed betrust your yield.

CORNELIUS VOLTIMAND

In that and all things will we show our yield.

KING CLAUDIUS

We fear it nothing: heartily farewell.

Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS

And now, Laertes, what tidings are with you? You told us of some doom; what is't, Laertes? You cannot speak of reading to the Dane, And loose your stef: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes, That shall not be my bring, not thy asking? The head is not more inborn to the heart, The hand more brookish to the mouth, Than is the highseat of Denmark to thy father. What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

LAERTES

My dread lord, Your leave and deal to come back to France; From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, To show my ought in your wreath-gathering, Yet now, I must betell, that ought done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France And bow them to your kind leave and forgift.

KING CLAUDIUS

Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

LORD POLONIUS

He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave By wearysome forask, and at last Upon his will I wax'd my hard welcome: I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

KING CLAUDIUS

Take thy fair stund, Laertes; time be thine, And thy best thanks spend it at thy will! But now, my kinsman Hamlet, and my son,--

HAMLET

[Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind.

KING CLAUDIUS

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

HAMLET

Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun.

QUEEN GERTRUDE

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted hue off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not for ever with thy lowed lids Seek for thy high-born father in the dust: Thou know'st 'tis mean; all that lives must die, Walking through life to forever.

HAMLET

Ay, milady, it is mean.

QUEEN GERTRUDE

If it be, Why seems it so sharesome with thee?

HAMLET

Seems, milady! nay it is; I know not 'seems.' 'Tis not alone my dark cloth, good mother, Nor tolly clothes of holy black, Nor windy underbreath of smitten loft, No, nor the foodful stream in the eye, Nor the cast down 'having of the sight, Together with all shapes, moods, things of sorrow, That can mark me out truly: these indeed seem, For they are doings that a man might play: But I have that within which goeth by show; These but the cloths and the shirts of woe.

KING CLAUDIUS

'Tis sweet and loftworthy in your life, Hamlet, To give these mourning oughts to your father: But, you must know, your father lost a father; That father lost, lost his, and the overlifer bound In sonish answership for some tide To do befollowly sorrow: but to overtighten In stubborn sorrow is a way Of unholy stiffneckness; 'tis unmanly weeping; It shows a will most unright to heaven, A heart unstrengthened, a mind unbearing, An understanding knavish and unlear'd: For what we know must be and is as mean As any the most low thing to feel, Why should we in our silly oversteadness Take it to heart? Fah! 'tis a flaw to heaven, A flaw against the dead, a flaw to life, To bethink most mad: whose mean forthput Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, From the first body till he that died to-day, 'This must be so.' We bede you, throw to earth This unmighty woe, and think of us As of a father: for let the world take mark, You are the most untimely to our highseat; And with no less highbirthly of love Than that which dearest father bears his son, Do I give toward you. For your wish In going back to learnstead in Wittenberg, It is most backward to our love: And we beseech you, bend you to stay Here, in the mood and feel of our eye, Our headest yardman, kin, and our son.

QUEEN GERTRUDE

Let not thy mother lose her beads, Hamlet: I bid thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.

HAMLET

I shall in all my best to listen to you, milady.

KING CLAUDIUS

Why, 'tis a loving and a fair backfold: Be as ourself in Denmark. Milady, come; This wellborn and unmighted withgo of Hamlet Sits smiling to my heart: in thank whereof, No blissful health that Denmark drinks to-day, But the great blunderbuss to the clouds shall tell, And the king's upstir the heavens all tiding again, Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.

Outgoen all but HAMLET

HAMLET

La, that this too too thick flesh would melt Thaw and loosen itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not set His law 'gainst self-slaughter! La God! God! How weary, stale, flat and unyielding, Seem to me all the brooks of this world! Fah on't! Eala! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and whole in life Hold it cleanly. That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So outstanding a king; that was, to this, Woden to a elf; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her anleth too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I eftmind? why, she would hang on him, As if upping of longing had grown By what it fed on: and yet, within a month-- Let me not think on't--Weakness, thy name is woman!-- A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she follow'd my arm father's body, Like Frige, all tears:--why she, even she-- La, God! a deer, that wants saying of wit, Would have mourn'd longer--wedded with my eme, My father's brother, but no more like my father Than I to Tiw: within a month: Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flooding in her galled eyes, She wedded. O, most wicked speed, to put With such handiness to kinlyingly sheets! It is not nor it cannot come to good: But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.

Ingo HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO

HORATIO

Hail to your lordship!

HAMLET

I am glad to see you well: Horatio,--or I do forget myself.

HORATIO

The same, my lord, and your arm swain ever.

HAMLET

Eld, my good friend; I'll wend that name with you: And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus?

MARCELLUS

My good lord--

HAMLET

I am very glad to see you. Good even, eld. But what, in belief, make you from Wittenberg?

HORATIO

An idle mood, good my lord.

HAMLET

I would not hear your fiend say so, Nor shall you do mine ear that harm, To make it believer of your own reckoning Against yourself: I know you are no wanderer. But what is your business in Elsinore? We'll teach you to drink deep ere you leave.

HORATIO

My lord, I came to see your father's burial.

HAMLET

I pray thee, do not make fun of me, fellow-learner; I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

HORATIO

Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

HAMLET

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the burial baked meats Did coldly fit out forth the wedding boards. Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! My father!--methinks I see my father.

HORATIO

Where, my lord?

HAMLET

In my mind's eye, Horatio.

HORATIO

I saw him once; he was a goodly king.

HAMLET

He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.

HORATIO

My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

HAMLET

Saw? who?

HORATIO

My lord, the king your father.

HAMLET

The king my father!

HORATIO

Ripen your wonder for awhile With an inthink ear, till I may set free, Upon the witness of these goodmen, This wonder to you.

HAMLET

For God's love, let me hear.

HORATIO

Two nights together had these goodmen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead great and middle of the night, Been thus met up wi’. A shape like your father, Weaponed at prick forcutly, head to toe, Comes before them, and with holy stepping Goes slow and rikely by them: thrice he walk'd By their smother’d and fear-wondered eyes, Within his truck’s length; whilst they, fordropped Almost to frost with the drive of fear, Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me In dreadful roun gave out they did; And I with them the third night kept the watch; Where, as they had forfre’d, both in time, Shape of the thing, each word made true and good, The ghost comes: I knew your father; These hands are not more like.

HAMLET

But where was this?

MARCELLUS

My lord, upon the floor where we watch'd.

HAMLET

Did you not speak to it?

HORATIO

My lord, I did; But answer made it none: yet once methought It lifted up its head and did address Itself to wendship, like as it would speak; But even then the morning cock crew loud, And at the shout it shrunk in haste away, And went away from our sight.

HAMLET

'Tis very strange.

HORATIO

As I do live, my mensk'd lord, 'tis true; And we did think it writ down in our ought To let you know of it.

HAMLET

Indeed, indeed, elds, but this stirs me up. Hold you the watch to-night?

MARCELLUS BERNARDO

We do, my lord.

HAMLET

Weapon’d, say you?

MARCELLUS BERNARDO

Weapon’d, my lord.

HAMLET

From top to toe?

MARCELLUS BERNARDO

My lord, from head to foot.

HAMLET

Then saw you not his neb?

HORATIO

O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.

HAMLET

What, look'd he scowlingly?

HORATIO

A bearing more in sorrow than in anger.

HAMLET

White or red?

HORATIO

Nay, sheer white.

HAMLET

And set his eyes upon you?

HORATIO

Most steadfastly.

HAMLET

I would I had been there.

HORATIO

It would have much bewilder you.

HAMLET

Sheer like, sheer like. Stay'd it long?

HORATIO

While one with metefast haste might tell a hundred.

MARCELLUS BERNARDO

Longer, longer.

HORATIO

Not when I saw't.

HAMLET

His beard was gray--no?

HORATIO

It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver'd.

HAMLET

I will watch to-night; byhap 'twill walk again.

HORATIO

I forward it will.

HAMLET

If it take up my orefast father's were, I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape And bid me hold my frith. I bede you all, If you have hitherto hidden this sight, Let it be holdful in your stillness still; And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, Give it an understanding, but no tongue: I will yield back your loves. So, fare you well: Upon the flatfloor, 'twixt eleven and twelve, I'll come see you.

All

Our ought to your ore.

HAMLET

Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.

Outgoen all but HAMLET

My father's ghost in weapons! all is not well; I fear some foul play: would the night were come! Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

Outgo

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