Hamlet
Act I, Scene I
Elsinore. A platform before the castle.
Midnight on the freezing battlements of Elsinore Castle. The sentry Bernardo arrives to relieve Francisco; Marcellus and Hamlet’s scholar friend Horatio join them. Marcellus has brought Horatio because the dead king’s ghost has been walking the watch for two nights and no one has dared address it; the educated Horatio — trained in Latin, the language exorcism uses — might be able to. Bernardo begins to retell the previous nights’ sighting; the Ghost enters as if on cue, in the dead king’s armour. Horatio challenges it, demands it speak; the Ghost stalks away offended. Bernardo and Horatio exchange the political news that has been keeping the watch on alert: young Fortinbras of Norway, son of the king Old Hamlet killed in single combat thirty years ago, is gathering an army of desperate men to take back the lands his father lost. Horatio invokes the omens that preceded Caesar’s assassination as a parallel for the unease. The Ghost re-enters; Horatio tries again, charging it to speak in the name of heaven, country, and any hidden treasure. The cock crows; the Ghost vanishes as it was about to answer. The men decide to tell the prince — young Hamlet, the dead king’s son — on the theory that the spirit, dumb to them, will speak to him.
The play opens not with its hero but with a question shouted into the dark: Who’s there? — spoken not by the relieving sentry, who would normally challenge first, but by the man already on his post, who has been frightened by something. The inversion sets the tone for the play that follows: a world in which the people who should be in command are spooked, and the question of who is who, and what is what, is open from the first word. Horatio’s long historical excursus on Old Fortinbras and young Fortinbras is the play’s only direct exposition of its political background, and its placement matters: by the time it lands, the Ghost has already walked twice, and the political crisis and the supernatural one are visibly twin emergencies of the same broken state. By the scene’s end the supporting cast is fully in motion (sentries, scholar, prince to be summoned), the air of Marcellus’s later line — Something is rotten in the state of Denmark — is already settled, and Hamlet himself has not appeared. He has, instead, been built around: a son who must be told.
FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO.
BERNARDO
Who’s there?
Who’s there?
FRANCISCO
Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.
No — you answer me: halt, and identify yourself.
BERNARDO
Long live the king!
Long live the king!
FRANCISCO
Bernardo?
Bernardo?
BERNARDO
He.
It’s him.
FRANCISCO
You come most carefully upon your hour.
You’re right on time, almost to the minute.
BERNARDO
’Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.
It’s just struck twelve. Go on, Francisco — get to bed.
FRANCISCO
For this relief much thanks: ’tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart.
And I am sick at heart.
Many thanks for relieving me: it’s bitterly cold, and I am sick at heart.
BERNARDO
Have you had quiet guard?
Has it been a quiet watch?
FRANCISCO
Not a mouse stirring.
Not a mouse stirring.
BERNARDO
Well, good night.
Well — good night.
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
If you happen to meet Horatio and Marcellus, my watch-mates, tell them to hurry.
FRANCISCO
I think I hear them.
I think I hear them now.
Stand, ho!
Halt!
Who’s there?
Who’s there?
Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
HORATIO
Friends to this ground.
Friends to this country.
MARCELLUS
And liegemen to the Dane.
And sworn subjects of the King of Denmark.
FRANCISCO
Give you good night.
Good night to you.
MARCELLUS
O, farewell, honest soldier:
Who hath relieved you?
Who hath relieved you?
Farewell, honest soldier — who took over from you?
FRANCISCO
Bernardo has my place.
Bernardo has the post.
Give you good night.
Good night to you.
Exit FRANCISCO.
MARCELLUS
Holla!
Hello there!
Bernardo!
Bernardo!
BERNARDO
Say,
What, is Horatio there?
What, is Horatio there?
Tell me — is that Horatio with you?
HORATIO
A piece of him.
What’s left of him — on a night like this.
BERNARDO
Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.
Welcome, Horatio — welcome, good Marcellus.
MARCELLUS
What, has this thing appear’d again to-night?
Well — has this thing appeared again tonight?
BERNARDO
I have seen nothing.
I’ve seen nothing.
MARCELLUS
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 approve our eyes and speak to it.
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 approve our eyes and speak to it.
Horatio says it’s only our imagination — he refuses to believe in this dreadful sight, which we have seen twice now. So I’ve persuaded him to keep watch with us through the small hours, so that if the apparition comes again, he can confirm what our eyes saw and speak to it.
HORATIO
Tush, tush, ’twill not appear.
Nonsense — it won’t come.
BERNARDO
Sit down awhile;
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story
What we have two nights seen.
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story
What we have two nights seen.
Sit down for a moment, and let us once more lay siege to those ears of yours, which are so fortified against our story, with what we have seen these last two nights.
HORATIO
Well, sit we down,
And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
Very well — let’s sit, and hear what Bernardo has to say.
BERNARDO
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,—
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,—
Just last night, when that very star west of the pole had moved across the sky to light the part of heaven it’s burning in now, Marcellus and I — with the bell tolling one o’clock—
Enter Ghost.
MARCELLUS
Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!
Quiet — break off! Look, there it is again!
BERNARDO
In the same figure, like the king that’s dead.
In the same form — the very image of the dead king.
MARCELLUS
Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
You’re the scholar — speak to it, Horatio.
BERNARDO
Looks it not like the king?
Doesn’t it look like the king?
mark it, Horatio.
Take a good look, Horatio.
HORATIO
Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.
Exactly like him — it shakes me through with fear and wonder.
BERNARDO
It would be spoke to.
It wants to be spoken to.
MARCELLUS
Question it, Horatio.
Question it, Horatio.
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!
Together with that fair and warlike form
In which the majesty of buried Denmark
Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!
What are you, that takes possession of this hour of night, wearing that handsome and warlike form in which the majesty of buried Denmark used to march? By heaven, I command you to speak!
MARCELLUS
It is offended.
It’s offended.
BERNARDO
See, it stalks away!
Look — it’s stalking away!
HORATIO
Stay!
Stop!
speak, speak!
Speak, speak!
I charge thee, speak!
I command you — speak!
Exit Ghost.
MARCELLUS
’Tis gone, and will not answer.
It’s gone — and won’t answer.
BERNARDO
How now, Horatio!
Well, Horatio!
you tremble and look pale:
Is not this something more than fantasy?
Is not this something more than fantasy?
You’re trembling and white as a sheet. Isn’t this rather more than your imagination?
What think you on’t?
What do you make of it?
HORATIO
Before my God, I might not this believe
Without the sensible and true avouch
Of mine own eyes.
Without the sensible and true avouch
Of mine own eyes.
Before God, I would not have believed this without the plain, reliable witness of my own eyes.
MARCELLUS
Is it not like the king?
Isn’t it the very image of the king?
HORATIO
As thou art to thyself:
Such was the very armour he had on
When he the ambitious Norway combated;
So frown’d he once, when, in an angry parle,
He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
Such was the very armour he had on
When he the ambitious Norway combated;
So frown’d he once, when, in an angry parle,
He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
As you are to yourself. That was the very armour he wore when he fought the ambitious king of Norway; he frowned just like that once, when in a heated parley he struck down the Poles travelling in sleds across the ice.
’Tis strange.
It’s strange.
MARCELLUS
Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
Twice before, and now exactly at this dead hour of midnight, he has marched past our post with that same warrior’s stride.
HORATIO
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.
But in the gross and scope of my opinion,
This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
I don’t know what specific meaning to assign it; but in my general view, this signals some violent disturbance ahead for our country.
MARCELLUS
Good now, sit down, 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;
Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
Does not divide the Sunday from the week;
What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day:
Who is’t that can inform me?
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
Does not divide the Sunday from the week;
What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day:
Who is’t that can inform me?
Now then — let whoever knows sit down and tell me: why is this strict, exhausting watch grinding the country’s subjects nightly? And why this daily casting of new brass cannon, this foreign trade for war supplies? Why this conscription of shipwrights, whose grueling work doesn’t even pause for the Sabbath? What can be coming, that this sweaty haste makes night work alongside day? Who can tell me?
HORATIO
That can I;
At least, the whisper goes so.
At least, the whisper goes so.
I can — or at least, this is what the rumour says.
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 compact,
Well ratified by law and heraldry,
Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
Which he stood seized 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 covenant,
And carriage of the article design’d,
His fell to Hamlet.
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 compact,
Well ratified by law and heraldry,
Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
Which he stood seized 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 covenant,
And carriage of the article design’d,
His fell to Hamlet.
Our late king — whose image just now appeared to us — was, as you know, challenged to single combat by Fortinbras of Norway, whose ambition spurred him on. Our valiant Hamlet (so esteemed in this part of the known world) killed this Fortinbras; and, by a sealed compact ratified in proper legal and chivalric form, the Norwegian forfeited along with his life all the lands he held, to the victor. By the same agreement, an equivalent portion was staked by our king, which would have gone to Fortinbras’s heir had he been the winner. As it is, Norway’s land fell to Hamlet.
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,
For food and diet, to some enterprise
That hath a stomach 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.
Of unimproved mettle hot and full,
Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there
Shark’d up a list of lawless resolutes,
For food and diet, to some enterprise
That hath a stomach 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.
Now then — young Fortinbras, his untested courage hot and overflowing, has on the borders of Norway scraped together a list of desperate, lawless men, paying them only in food, for an enterprise that takes some guts. And the enterprise — as is now plain to our state — is nothing other than to recover from us by force and binding terms those same lands his father lost. This, I take it, is the main reason for our military preparations, the source of our watch, and the chief cause of all this hectic activity across the land.
BERNARDO
I think it be no other but e’en so:
Well may it sort that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch; so like the king
That was and is the question of these wars.
Well may it sort that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch; so like the king
That was and is the question of these wars.
I’m sure that’s exactly right. It makes good sense that this ominous figure walks armed through our watch — the very image of the king who was, and still is, the heart of these wars.
HORATIO
A mote it is to trouble the mind’s eye.
It is a speck thrown up 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:
As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
Disasters in the sun; and the moist star
Upon whose influence Neptune’s empire stands
Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:
And even the like precurse of fierce events,
As harbingers preceding still the fates
And prologue to the omen coming on,
Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
Unto our climatures and countrymen.—
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets:
As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
Disasters in the sun; and the moist star
Upon whose influence Neptune’s empire stands
Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:
And even the like precurse of fierce events,
As harbingers preceding still the fates
And prologue to the omen coming on,
Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
Unto our climatures and countrymen.—
In Rome at the height of its glory, just before mighty Julius Caesar fell, the graves stood empty and the dead in their burial shrouds went squeaking and gibbering through the Roman streets; comets streamed fire, the morning showed dews of blood, the sun was darkened, and the moon — the moist star whose pull governs Neptune’s tides — was sick almost to the world’s end with eclipse. And these same forerunners of fierce events, as messengers running ahead of fate and as prologue to the doom now approaching, heaven and earth together have shown to our climates and to our countrymen.
But soft, behold!
But hold — look!
lo, where it comes again!
There it is again!
Re-enter Ghost.
HORATIO
I’ll cross it, though it blast me.
I’ll cross its path, even at the cost of being struck down.
Stay, illusion!
Stay where you are, you ghost!
If thou hast any sound, 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:
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 you have any sound or any use of voice, speak to me. If there is any good deed to be done that might bring you peace and bring me grace, speak to me.
Cock crows.
HORATIO
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,
Speak of it: stay, and speak!
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,
Speak of it: stay, and speak!
If you know your country’s fate, which by chance might be averted with warning — oh, speak! Or if you stored up extorted treasure in the earth in your lifetime — the kind that, they say, makes spirits walk after death — speak of it. Stay, and speak!
Stop it, Marcellus.
Stop it, Marcellus!
MARCELLUS
Shall I strike at it with my partisan?
Shall I strike at it with my pike?
HORATIO
Do, if it will not stand.
Yes — if it won’t halt.
BERNARDO
’Tis here!
It’s here!
HORATIO
’Tis here!
It’s here!
MARCELLUS
’Tis gone!
It’s gone!
Exit Ghost.
MARCELLUS
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.
To offer it the show of violence;
For it is, as the air, invulnerable,
And our vain blows malicious mockery.
We are wrong to offer violence to something so majestic. It is, like the air, invulnerable; our useless blows are nothing but malicious mockery.
BERNARDO
It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
It was about to speak when the cock crowed.
HORATIO
And then it started like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons.
Upon a fearful summons.
And then it started like a guilty creature called to answer.
I have heard,
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day; and, at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine: and of the truth herein
This present object made probation.
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day; and, at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine: and of the truth herein
This present object made probation.
I have heard that the cock, who heralds the morning, with his loud and shrill-sounding throat awakens the god of day; and at his warning, every wandering and straying spirit — whether in sea or fire, in earth or air — hurries back to where it belongs. This present apparition has just proved the truth of it.
MARCELLUS
It faded on the crowing of the cock.
It faded as the cock crew.
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 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.
Wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated,
The 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.
Some say that against the coming of the season when our Saviour’s birth is celebrated, the cock sings all night long. Then, they say, no spirit dares walk abroad; the nights are wholesome; no planets blast, no fairy abducts, no witch has power to charm — so holy and so gracious is that time.
HORATIO
So have I heard and do in part believe it.
So I have heard, and partly believe it.
But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward 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.
Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward 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.
But look — the morning, dressed in its reddish-brown cloak, walks over the dew on that hill to the east. Let’s break up the watch; and on my advice, let us tell young Hamlet what we’ve seen tonight. I’ll stake my life on it — this spirit, silent to us, will speak to him.
Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
Do you agree we should let him know — as both our affection and our duty require?
MARCELLUS
Let’s do’t, I pray; and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently.
Where we shall find him most conveniently.
Yes, let’s — please. And I happen to know where we can find him most conveniently this very morning.
Exeunt. — End of Act I, Scene I.