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Mes. Is not that he that lies upon the ground?

Tit. He lies not like the living. O my heart!

Mes. Is not that he? Tit.

No, this was he, Messala, But Cassius is no more. O setting sun, As in thy red rays thou dost sink to-night, So in his red blood Cassius' day is set; The sun of Rome is set! Our day is gone; Clouds, dews, and dangers come; our deeds are done!

Mistrust of my success hath done this deed. Mes. Mistrust of good success hath done this deed.

O hateful error, melancholy's child, Why dost thou show to the apt thoughts of [ceived,

men

The things that are not? O error, soon conThou never comest unto a happy birth, 70 But kill'st the mother that engender'd thee! Tit. What, Pindarus! where art thou, Pindarus?

Mes. Seek him, Titinius, whilst I go to meet

The noble Brutus, thrusting this report.
Into his ears; I may say, thrusting it;
For piercing steel and darts envenomed
Shall be as welcome to the ears of Brutus
As tidings of this sight.

Tit.
Hie you, Messala,
And I will seek for Pindarus the while.

[Exit Messala. Why didst thou send me forth, brave Cassius? Did I not meet thy friends? and did not they Put on my brows this wreath of victory, And bid me give it thee? Didst thou not hear their shouts ?

Alas, thou hast misconstrued every thing!
But, hold thee, take this garland on thy brow;
Thy Brutus bid me give it thee, and I
Will do his bidding. Brutus, come apace,
And see how I regarded Caius Cassius.
By your leave, gods-this is a Roman's part
Come, Cassius' sword, and find Titinius'
heart.
[Kills himself. 90

Alarum. Re-enter MESSALA, with BRUTUS, young CATO, STRATO, VOLUMNIUS, and LU

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SCENE IV. Another part of the field. Alarum. Enter fighting, Soldiers of both armies; then BRUTUS, young CATO, LUCILIUS, and others.

Bru. Yet, countrymen, O, yet hold up your heads!

Cato. What bastard doth not? Who will go with me?

I will proclaim my name about the field :
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!

A foe to tyrants, and my country's friend;
I am the son of Marcus Cato, ho!
Bru. And I am Brutus, Marcus Brutus, I;
Brutus, my country's friend; know me for
[Exit.

Brutus !

Lucil. O young and noble Cato, art thou down?

Why, now thou diest as bravely as Titinius;
And inayst be honor'd, being Cato's son.
First Sold. Yield, or thou diest.
Lucil.

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Only I yield to die : There is so much that thou wilt kill me [Offering money.

straight;

Kill Brutus, and be honor'd in his death.
First Sold. We must not. A noble prisoner!
Sec. Sold. Room, ho! Tell Antony, Brutus
[the general.

is ta'en.

First Sold. I'll tell the news.

Enter ANTONY.

Here comes

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I dare assure thee that no enemy
Shall ever take alive the noble Brutus :
The gods defend him from so great a shame!
When you do find him, or alive or dead,
He will be found like Brutus, like himself.
Ant. This is not Brutus, friend; but, I

assure you,

A prize no less in worth keep this man safe;
Give him all kindness: I had rather have
Such men my friends than enemies. Go on,
And see whether Brutus be alive or dead; 30
And bring us word unto Octavius' tent
How every thing is chanced.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Another part of the field. Enter BRUTUS, DARDANIUS, CLITUS, STRATO, and VOLUMNIUS.

Bru Come, poor remains of friends, rest on this rock.

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Vol. What says my lord?

Bru.

Why, this, Volumnius : The ghost of Cæsar hath appear'd to me Two several times by night; at Sardis once, And, this last night, here in Philippi fields: I know my hour is come.

Vol. Not so, my lord. 20 Bru. Nay, I am sure it is, Volumnius. Thou seest the world, Volumnius, how it goes; Our enemies have beat us to the pit:

[Low alarums. It is more worthy to leap in ourselves, Than tarry till they push us. Good Volumnius,

Thou know'st that we two went to school together:

Even for that our love of old, I prithee, Hold thou my sword-hilts, whilst I run on it. Vol. That's not an office for a friend, my lord. [Alarum still.

Cli. Fly, fly, my lord; there is no tarrying here.

30

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That have but labor'd to attain this hour.
[Alarum. Cry within, Fly, fly, fly!'
Cli. Fly, my lord, fly.
Bru.
Hence! I will follow
[Exeunt Clitus, Dardunius, and Volumnius
I prithee, Strato, stay thou by thy lord:
Thou art a fellow of a good respect;

Thy life hath had some smatch of honor in it:
Hold then my sword, and turn away thy face,
While I do run upon it. Wilt thou, Strato ?
Stra. Give me your hand first. Fare you:
well, my lord.

Bru. Farewell, good Strato. [Runs on his sword.] Cæsar, now be still :

I kill'd not thee with half so good a will.

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[Dies.

Alarum. Retreat. Enter OCTAVIUS, ANTONY, MESSALA, LUCILIUS, and the army.

Oct. What man is that?

Mes. My master's man. Strato, where is thy master?

Stra. Free from the bondage you are in, Messala:

The conquerors can but make a fire of him; For Brutus only overcame himself,

And no man else hath honor by his death. Lucil. So Brutus should be found. I thank thee, Brutus,

That thou hast proved Lucilius' saying true. Oct. All that served Brutus, I will entertain them.

60 Fellow, wilt thou bestow thy time with me? Stra. Ay, if Messala will prefer me to you. Oct. Do so, good Messala.

Mes. How died my master Strato? Stra. I held the sword, and he did run on it.

Octavius, then take him to follow

Mes. thee,

That did the latest service to my master. Ant. This was the noblest Roman of them all:

All the conspirators save only he

Did that they did in envy of great Cæsar; 70
He only, in a general honest thought
And common good to all, made one of them.
His life was gentle, and the elements
So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up
And say to all the world 'This was a man

Oct. According to his virtue let us use him,
With all respect and rites of burial.
Within my tent his bones to-night shall lie,
Most like a soldier, order'd honorably.
So call the field to rest; and let's away,
To part the glories of this happy day.

80

[Exeunt.

(WRITTEN ABOUT 1602.)

INTRODUCTION.

Hamlet represents the mid period of the growth of Shakespeare's genius, when comedy and history ceased to be adequate for the expression of his deeper thoughts and sadder feelings about life, and when he was just entering upon his great series of tragic writings. In July, 1602, the printer Roberts entered in the Stationers' register, "The Revenge of Hamlett, Prince of Denmark, as ye latelie was acted by the Lord Chamberlain his servantes," and in the next year the play was printed. The true relation of this first quarto of Hamlet to the second quarto, published in 1604-newly imprinted, and enlarged to almost as much againe as it was "-is a matter in dispute. It is believed by Bome critics that the quarto of 1603 is merely an imperfect report of the play as we find it in the edition of the year after; but there are some material differences which cannot thus be explained. In the earlier quarto, instead of Polonius and Reynaldo, we find the names Corambis and Montano: the order of certain scenes varies from that of the later quarto; "the madness of Hamlet is much more pronounced, and the Queen's innocence of her husband's murder much more explicitly stated." We are forced to believe either that the earlier quarto contains portions of an old play by some other writer than Shakespeare-an opinion adopted on apparently insufficient grounds by some recent editor or that it represents imperfectly Shakespeare's first draught of the play, and that the difference between it and the second quarto is due to Shakespeare's revision of his own work. This last opinion seems to be the true one, but the value of any comparison between the two quartos, with a view to understand Shakespeare's manner of rehandling his work, is greatly diminished by the fact that numerous gaps of the imperfect report given in the earlier quarto seem to have been filled in by a stupid stage hack. That an old play on the subject of Hamlet existed there can be no doubt; it is referred to in 1589 (perhaps in 1587) by Nash, in his Epistle prefixed to Greene's Menaphon, and again in 1596 by Lodge (Wit's Miserie and the World's Madnesse), where he alludes to "the vizard of the Ghost which cried so miserably at the Theator, like an oister wife, Hamlet, revenge'." A German play on the subject of Hamlet exists which is supposed to have been acted by English players in Germany in 1603; the name Corambus appears in it; and it is possible that portions of the old pre-Shakespearean drama are contained in the German Hamlet. The old play may have been one of the bloody tragedies of revenge among which we find Titus Andronicus and The Spanish Tragedy, and it would be characteristic of Shakespeare that he should refine the motives and spirit of the drama, so as to make the duty of vengeance laid upon Hamlet a painful burden which he is hardly able to support. Besides the old play of Hamlet, Shakespeare had probably before him the prose Hystorie of Hamblet (though no edition exists earlier than 1608), translated from Belleforest's Histoires Tragiques. The story had been told some hundreds of years previously in the Historia Danica of Saxo Grammaticus (about 1180-1208). The Hamlet of the flystorie, after a fierce revenge, becomes King of Denmark, marries two wives, and finally dies in battle.

No play of Shakespeare's has had a higher power of interesting spectators and readers, and none has given rise to a greater variety of conflicting interpretations. It has been rightly named a tragedy of thought, and in this respect, as well as others, takes its place beside Julius Cæsar. Neither Brutus nor Hamlet is the victim of an overmastering passion as are the chief persons of the later tragedies-e.g. Othello, Macbeth, Coriolanus. The burden of a terrible duty is laid upon each of them, and neither is fitted for bearing such a burden. Brutus is disqualified for action by his moral idealism, his student-like habits, his capacity for dealing with abstractions rather than with men and things. Hamlet is disqualified for action by his excess of the reflective tendency, and by his unstable will, which alternates between complete inactivity and fits of excited energy. Naturally sensitive, he receives a painful shock from the hasty second marriage of his mother; already the springs of faith and joy in his nature are embittered; then follows the terrible discovery of his father's murder, with the injunction laid upon him to revenge the crime; upon this again follow the repulses which he receives from Ophelia. A deep melancholy lays hold of his spirit, and all of life grows dark and sad to his vision. Although hating his father's murderer, he has little heart to push on his revenge. He is aware that he is suspected and surrounded by spies. Partly to baffle them, partly to create a veil behind which to seclude his true self, partly because his whole moral nature is indeed deeply disordered, he assumes the part of one whose wits have gone astray. Except for one loyal friend, he is alone among enemies or supposed traitors. Ophelia he regards as no more loyal or honest to him than his mother had been to her dead husband. The ascertainment of Claudius's guilt by means of the play still leaves him incapable of the last decisive act of vengeance. Not so, however, with the king, who now recognizing his foe in Hamlet, does not delay to despatch him to a bloody death in England. But there is in Hamlet a terrible power of sudden and desperate action. From the melancholy which broods over him after the burial of Ophelia he rouses himself to the play of swords with Laertes, and at the last, with strength which leaps up before its final extinction, he accomplishes the punishment of the malefactor. Horatio, with his fortitude, his selfpossession, his strong equanimity is a contrast to the Prince. And Laertes, who takes violent measures at the shortest notice to revenge his father's murder, is in another way a contrast; but Laertes is the young gallant of the period, and his capacity for action arises in part from the absence of those moral checks of which Hamlet is sensible. Polonius is owner of the shallow wisdom of this world, and exhibits this grotesquely while now on the brink of dotage; he sees, but cannot see through Hamlet's ironical mockery of him. Ophelia is tender, sensitive, affectionate, but the reverse of heroic; she fails Hamlet in his need, and then in her turn becoming the sufferer, gives way under the pressure of her afflictious. We do not honor, we only commiserate her.

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Fran. You come most carefully upon your hour.

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

Fran. For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,

And I am sick at heart.

Ber. Have you had quiet guard?
Fran.
Not a mouse stirring. 10
Ber. Well, good night.

If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
Fran. I think I hear them. Stand, ho!
Who's there?

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Mar. 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.
Hor. Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.
Ber.
Sit down awhile; 30
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story
What we have two nights seen.

Hor.

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

Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

40

Ber. In the same figure, like the king that's dead.

Mar. Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.

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

Hor. Most like it harrows me with fear
and wonder.
Ber. It would be spoke to.
Mar.
Question it, Horatio.
Hor. 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

20

thee, speak! Mar. It is offended. Ber.

Mar. What, has this thing appear'd again

to-night?

Ber. I have seen nothing.

See, it stalks away! 5C Hor. Stay speak, speak! I charge thee, [Exit Ghost

speak!

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'Tis strange.

60

Mar. Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,

With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. Hor. 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. Mar Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, 70 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-laborer with the

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90

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. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,

Of unimproved mettle hot and fuli,
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

101

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That was and is the question of these wars.
Hor. A mote it is 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: 120
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.-
But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!
Re-enter Ghost.

I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!
If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me:

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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.
Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock

crew.

Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, 150 Doth with his lofty and slirill-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.

Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, 159 The bird of dawning singeth all night long ;

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