to be found in the Latin pages of the
Danish historian, Saxo Grammaticus, who died in the year 1208.
Towards the end of the sixteenth century, the French author, Francis
de Belleforest, introduced the fable into a collection of novels,
which were translated into English, and printed in a small quarto
black letter volume, under the title of the "Historie of Hamblett,"
from which source Shakespeare constructed the present tragedy.

Saxo has placed his history about 200 years before Christianity, when
barbarians, clothed in skins, peopled the shores of the Baltic. The
poet, however, has so far modernised the subject as to make Hamlet a
Christian, and England tributary to the "sovereign majesty of
Denmark." A date can therefore be easily fixed, and the costume of
the tenth and eleventh centuries may be selected for the purpose.
There are but few authentic records in existence, but these few
afford reason to believe that very slight difference existed between
the dress of the Dane and that of the Anglo-Saxon of the same period.

Since its first representation, upwards of two centuries and a half
ago, no play has been acted so frequently, or commanded such
universal admiration. It draws within the sphere of its attraction
both the scholastic and the unlearned. It finds a response in every
breast, however high or however humble. By its colossal aid it exalts
the drama of England above that of every nation, past or present. It
is, indeed, the most marvellous creation of human intellect.

CHARLES KEAN.

HAMLET,

PRINCE OF DENMARK.

ACT I.

SCENE I.--ELSINORE. A PLATFORM BEFORE THE CASTLE. NIGHT.

FRANCISCO _on his post. Enter to him_ BERNARDO (L.H.)

_Ber._ Who's there?

_Fran._ (R.) Nay, answer me:[1] stand, and unfold[2] yourself.

_Ber._ Long live the king![3]

_Fran._ Bernardo?

_Ber._ He.

_Fran._ You come most carefully upon your hour.

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

_Fran._ For this relief much thanks:

[_Crosses to_ L.]

'tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart.

_Ber._ Have you had quiet guard?

_Fran._ Not a mouse stirring.

_Ber._ Well, good night.
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch,[4] bid them make haste.

_Fran._ I think I hear them.--Stand, ho! Who's there?

_Hor._ Friends