Bernardo. It was about to speak, when the cock

Horatio. 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 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.°

Marcellus. 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 dare 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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Horatio. 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,

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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?

Marcellus. Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know

Where we shall find him most conveniently. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Room of State in the Castle

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 an auspicious and a dropping eye,
With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,

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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,
Colleagued with the 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 bonds of law,

To our most valiant 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, 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 dispatch
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

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Of these dilated articles allow.

Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.°

Cornelius.

In that and all things will we show

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Voltimand. our duty. King. We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell. [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 wouldst thou beg,

Laertes,

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?

Laertes.

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Dread my lord, 50

Your leave and favour° to return to France;

From whence though willingly I came to Den

mark,

To show my duty in your coronation,

Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,

My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France, 55 And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

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

Polonius. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my

slow leave

By laboursome petition, and at last

Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent.°

I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

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King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, And thy best graces spend it° at thy will! But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son, Hamlet. [Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind.

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King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you ? Hamlet. Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun. Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not for ever with thy vailed lids°

Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Thou knowst 'tis common; all that lives must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.

Hamlet. Ay, madam, it is common.
Queen.

Why seems it so particular with thee?

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If it be,

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Hamlet. Seems, madam! nay, it is. I know not "seems."