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Hamlet is the story of the Prince of Denmark who learns of the death of his father at the hands of his uncle, Claudius. Claudius murders Hamlet’s father, his own brother, to take the throne of Denmark and to marry Hamlet’s widowed mother. Hamlet is sunk into a state of great despair as a result of discovering the murder of his father and the infidelity of his mother. Hamlet is torn between his great sadness and his desire for the revenge of his father’s murder.
127 pages with a reading time of ~2 hours (31999 words), and first published in 1602. This DRM-Free edition published by epubBooks, 2015.
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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 hour.
BERNARDO
‘Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.
FRANCISCO
For this relief much thanks: ‘tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart.
BERNARDO
Have you had quiet guard?
FRANCISCO
Not a mouse stirring.
BERNARDO
Well, good night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
FRANCISCO
I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who’s there?
[Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS]
HORATIO
Friends to this ground.
MARCELLUS
And liegemen to the Dane.
FRANCISCO
Give you good night.
MARCELLUS
O, farewell, honest soldier: Who hath relieved you?
FRANCISCO
Bernardo has my place. Give you good night.
[Exit]
MARCELLUS
Holla! Bernardo!
BERNARDO
Say, What, is Horatio there?
HORATIO
A piece of him.
BERNARDO
Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.
MARCELLUS
What, has this thing appear’d again to-night?
BERNARDO
I have 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.
HORATIO
Tush, tush, ‘twill not appear.
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.
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 pole Had made his course to illume that part of heaven Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, The bell then beating one,–
[Enter Ghost]
MARCELLUS
Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!
BERNARDO
In the same figure, like the king that’s dead.
MARCELLUS
Thou art a scholar; 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
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!
MARCELLUS
It is offended.
BERNARDO
See, it stalks away!
HORATIO
Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!
[Exit Ghost]
MARCELLUS
‘Tis gone, and will not answer.
BERNARDO
How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale: Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you on’t?
HORATIO
Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes.
MARCELLUS
Is it not like 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. ‘Tis strange.
MARCELLUS
Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
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.
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?