Elsinore. A platform before the Castle · Barnardo, Francisco, Horatio, Marcellus, Ghost
Midnight on the guard platform of Elsinore castle. Barnardo relieves Francisco and, with Marcellus, persuades the skeptical scholar Horatio to keep watch — and a ghost in the armor of the dead King Hamlet appears twice, refusing to speak. Horatio reads it as an omen tied to the war scare with young Fortinbras of Norway, and decides to tell Prince Hamlet, whom the spirit may answer.
Enter Francisco and Barnardo, two sentinels.
Barnardo
Who’s there?
Who's there?
Francisco
Nay, answer me.
No — you answer me.
Stand and unfold yourself.
Halt and identify yourself.
Barnardo
Long live the King!
Long live the King!
Francisco
Barnardo?
Barnardo?
Barnardo
He.
It's me.
Francisco
You come most carefully upon your hour.
You're right on time, to the minute.
Barnardo
’Tis now struck twelve.
It's just struck twelve.
Get thee to bed, Francisco.
Go to bed, Francisco.
Francisco
For this relief much thanks.
Thanks for taking over.
’Tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart.
It's bitterly cold, and I'm sick at heart.
Barnardo
Have you had quiet guard?
Has your watch been quiet?
Francisco
Not a mouse stirring.
Not a mouse stirring.
Barnardo
Well, good night.
All right, good night.
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
If you run into Horatio and Marcellus, my partners on this watch, tell them to hurry.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
Francisco
I think I hear them.
I think I hear them now.
Stand, ho!
Halt!
Who is there?
Who's there?
Horatio
Friends to this ground.
Friends of this country.
Marcellus
And liegemen to the Dane.
And loyal subjects of the King of Denmark.
Francisco
Give you good night.
Good night to you.
Marcellus
O, farewell, honest soldier,
Ah, goodbye, honest soldier.
who hath reliev’d you?
Who has taken your place?
Francisco
Barnardo has my place.
Barnardo has my post.
Give you good-night.
Good night to you.
Exit.
Marcellus
Holla, Barnardo!
Hey — Barnardo!
Barnardo
Say, what, is Horatio there?
Yes — is Horatio there?
Horatio
A piece of him.
A part of him, anyway.
Barnardo
Welcome, Horatio.
Welcome, Horatio.
Welcome, good Marcellus.
Welcome, good Marcellus.
Marcellus
What, has this thing appear’d again tonight?
So — has that thing shown up again tonight?
Barnardo
I have seen nothing.
I haven't seen anything.
Marcellus
Horatio says ’tis but our fantasy,
And will not let belief take hold of him
Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us.
Horatio says it's only our imagination, and he refuses to believe a word about this terrible sight we've now seen twice.
Therefore I have entreated him along
With us to watch the minutes of this night,
So I've begged him to come and stand watch with us through the night,
That if again this apparition come
He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
and if the apparition comes back, he can confirm what our eyes saw and speak to it.
Horatio
Tush, tush,
Nonsense.
’twill not appear.
It won't come.
Barnardo
Sit down awhile,
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
What we two nights have seen.
Sit down a while and let us attack those ears of yours again — they're so barricaded against our story — with what the two of us have seen these last two nights.
Horatio
Well, sit we down,
And let us hear Barnardo speak of this.
Fine, let's sit, and hear Barnardo tell it.
Barnardo
Last night of all,
When yond same star that’s westward from the pole,
Had made his course t’illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
The bell then beating one—
Last night, when that same star just west of the pole star had traveled around to light up the part of the sky where it's burning now, Marcellus and I — with the bell just striking one—
Marcellus
Peace, break thee off.
Quiet, stop.
Look where it comes again.
Look, here it comes again.
Enter Ghost.
Barnardo
In the same figure, like the King that’s dead.
In the same shape — like the dead King.
Marcellus
Thou art a scholar;
You're the educated one.
speak to it, Horatio.
Speak to it, Horatio.
Barnardo
Looks it not like the King?
Doesn't it look like the King?
Mark it, Horatio.
Look closely, Horatio.
Horatio
Most like.
Exactly like him.
It harrows me with fear and wonder.
It terrifies me and amazes me at once.
BARNARDO
It would be spoke to.
BARNARDO: Someone should speak to it.
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?
What are you, that trespasses on this hour of night wearing the noble, warlike shape in which the buried majesty of Denmark used to march?
By heaven I charge thee speak.
In heaven's name, I order you to speak.
Marcellus
It is offended.
We've offended it.
Barnardo
See, it stalks away.
Look, it's walking away.
Horatio
Stay!
Stop!
speak, speak!
Speak — speak!
I charge thee speak!
I order you to speak!
Exit Ghost.
Marcellus
’Tis gone, and will not answer.
It's gone, and it won't answer.
Barnardo
How now, Horatio!
Well, Horatio?
You tremble and look pale.
You're shaking and you've gone white.
Is not this something more than fantasy?
Isn't this rather more than 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.
Before God, I would never have believed this without the solid evidence of my own eyes.
Marcellus
Is it not like the King?
Doesn't it look like the King?
Horatio
As thou art to thyself:
As much as you look like yourself.
Such was the very armour he had on
When he th’ambitious Norway combated;
That was the very armor he wore when he fought the ambitious King of Norway.
So frown’d he once, when in an angry parle
He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
That's the exact frown he wore once, when a diplomatic quarrel turned angry and he smashed the sledded Poles onto the ice.
’Tis strange.
It's uncanny.
Marcellus
Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
Twice before now, at exactly this dead hour, it has marched past our watch with that soldier's stride.
Horatio
In what particular thought to work I know not;
I can't say what it means in detail,
But in the gross and scope of my opinion,
This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
but taking it broadly, my opinion is that it forecasts some violent upheaval in 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,
All right, sit down, and whoever knows the answer can tell me: why this strict, unblinking nightly watch that wears out the King's subjects?
And why such daily cast of brazen cannon
And foreign mart for implements of war;
Why the daily casting of bronze cannon and the buying of weapons abroad?
Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
Does not divide the Sunday from the week.
Why the drafting of shipwrights, whose brutal schedule doesn't even give them Sunday off?
What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day:
What's coming, that this sweating rush makes the night work alongside the day?
Who is’t that can inform me?
Who can explain it to me?
Horatio
That can I;
At least, the whisper goes so.
I can — or at least this is the rumor.
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,
Dar’d to the combat;
Our late King, whose image just appeared to us, was challenged to single combat by Fortinbras of Norway, who was driven to it by jealous pride.
in which our valiant Hamlet,
For so this side of our known world esteem’d him,
Did slay this Fortinbras;
In that fight our brave Hamlet — and this whole side of the known world considered him brave — killed 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 seiz’d of, to the conqueror;
By a sealed agreement, properly ratified in law and by the heralds, Fortinbras forfeited along with his life all the lands he held, and they went to the winner.
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 cov’nant
And carriage of the article design’d,
His fell to Hamlet.
Our King had staked an equal portion of his own, which would have gone to Fortinbras had he won; by the same contract and the terms drawn up in it, the Norwegian's lands 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;
Now, sir, young Fortinbras — untested, hot-blooded and reckless — has scraped together a gang of lawless thugs from the edges of Norway, paying them in nothing but meals, for some enterprise that takes a strong stomach.
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 it's clear enough to our government what it is: to take back from us by force and hard terms those very lands 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 rummage in the land.
That, as I understand it, is the main reason for all our preparations, the reason for this watch of ours, and the source of all this frantic rush and turmoil in the country.
Barnardo
I think it be no other but e’en so:
I think that must be it exactly.
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.
It fits that this ominous figure should come armed through our watch, looking so like the King who was and still is the cause of these wars.
Horatio
A mote it is to trouble the mind’s eye.
It's a speck of dust that troubles 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;
In Rome at the height of its glory, just before the mighty Julius Caesar was killed, the graves stood empty and the dead in their shrouds squealed and babbled 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.
There were stars trailing fire, dew like blood, ill omens in the sun, and the moon — which rules the tides of Neptune's sea — went dark in eclipse as if the world were ending.
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.
And exactly that kind of warning of terrible events, the messengers that always run ahead of fate and act as prologue to the disaster on its way, heaven and earth have shown together to our region and our countrymen.
Re-enter Ghost.
Horatio
But, soft, behold!
Wait — look!
Lo, where it comes again!
See, here it comes again!
I’ll cross it, though it blast me.
I'll block its path, even if it destroys me.
Stay, illusion!
Stand still, illusion!
If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
Speak to me.
If you can make any sound, if you have a 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.
If there's some good deed to be done that would bring you peace and me grace, speak to me.
If thou art privy to thy country’s fate,
Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid,
O speak!
If you know something of our country's fate that we might avoid by knowing it in advance, oh, 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.
Or if you hoarded stolen treasure in the earth during your life — which they say is why you spirits often walk after death — tell me about it.
Stay, and speak!
Stay, and speak!
The cock crows.
Horatio
Stop it, Marcellus!
Stop it, Marcellus!
Marcellus
Shall I strike at it with my partisan?
Should I take a swing at it with my spear?
Horatio
Do, if it will not stand.
Do it, if it won't stand still.
Barnardo
’Tis here!
It's here!
Horatio
’Tis here!
It's here!
Exit Ghost.
Marcellus
’Tis gone!
It's gone!
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.
We're wronging something so majestic by offering it violence, because it's like the air, impossible to wound, and our futile blows are nothing but a spiteful joke.
Barnardo
It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
It was about to speak when the rooster crowed.
Horatio
And then it started, like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons.
And then it flinched, like a guilty man summoned to court.
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;
I've heard that the rooster, the trumpeter of the morning, wakes the god of day with his high, piercing call,
and at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
Th’extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine.
and at that warning every wandering spirit out of bounds — whether in sea or fire, earth or air — hurries back where it belongs.
And of the truth herein
This present object made probation.
What just happened proves the story true.
Marcellus
It faded on the crowing of the cock.
It faded at 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,
Some say that in the season when we celebrate our Savior's birth, the bird of dawn sings all night long, and then no spirit dares walk 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.
The nights are healthy, no planet does harm, no fairy steals anyone away, no witch has the power to cast a spell — the time is that holy and that blessed.
Horatio
So have I heard, and do in part believe it.
So I've heard, and I half believe it.
But look, the morn in russet mantle clad,
Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward hill.
But look — morning, dressed in a russet cloak, is walking over the dew on that high hill to the east.
Break we our watch up, and by my advice,
Let us impart what we have seen tonight
Unto young Hamlet;
Let's end our watch, and my advice is that we tell young Hamlet what we've seen tonight.
for upon my life,
This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
I'd stake my life that this spirit, silent with us, will speak to him.
Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
Do you agree we should tell him, as our affection requires and our duty demands?
Marcellus
Let’s do’t, I pray,
Let's do it, please.
and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently.
And I know where we can most easily find him this morning.
Exeunt.
Hamlet Act 1, Scene 1 summary
Midnight on the guard platform of Elsinore castle. Barnardo relieves Francisco and, with Marcellus, persuades the skeptical scholar Horatio to keep watch — and a ghost in the armor of the dead King Hamlet appears twice, refusing to speak. Horatio reads it as an omen tied to the war scare with young Fortinbras of Norway, and decides to tell Prince Hamlet, whom the spirit may answer.
Who appears in this scene
Barnardo, Francisco, Horatio, Marcellus, Ghost — Elsinore. A platform before the Castle.
Famous lines in Hamlet Act 1, Scene 1, explained
- “Who’s there?” (line 1)
- The play opens with a challenge shouted into the dark — and by the rules of the watch it is the wrong man asking, since the sentry on duty should be the one demanding the password. That small reversal sets the tone: from the first syllable nobody in Elsinore is certain who anyone really is. The question hangs over the whole play, which is about a man trying to find out what his uncle, his mother, his friends, and finally he himself actually are.
- “But look, the morn in russet mantle clad, / Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward hill.” (line 180)
- Horatio breaks off the terror of the night with a sudden image of dawn as a traveler in a reddish-brown cloak walking over the wet hillside. The shift from ghost-talk to plain daylight beauty is deliberate: Shakespeare lets the audience breathe, and marks the boundary between the supernatural night and the political daylight of the next scene. It is also a reminder that Horatio, the level-headed one, is the character who can still see the ordinary world clearly.
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