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6081 lines
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Plaintext
Hamlet
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by William Shakespeare
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Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine
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with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles
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Folger Shakespeare Library
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https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/hamlet/
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Created on Jul 31, 2015, from FDT version 0.9.2
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Characters in the Play
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======================
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THE GHOST
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HAMLET, Prince of Denmark, son of the late King Hamlet and Queen Gertrude
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QUEEN GERTRUDE, widow of King Hamlet, now married to Claudius
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KING CLAUDIUS, brother to the late King Hamlet
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OPHELIA
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LAERTES, her brother
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POLONIUS, father of Ophelia and Laertes, councillor to King Claudius
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REYNALDO, servant to Polonius
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HORATIO, Hamlet's friend and confidant
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Courtiers at the Danish court:
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VOLTEMAND
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CORNELIUS
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ROSENCRANTZ
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GUILDENSTERN
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OSRIC
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Gentlemen
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A Lord
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Danish soldiers:
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FRANCISCO
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BARNARDO
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MARCELLUS
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FORTINBRAS, Prince of Norway
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A Captain in Fortinbras's army
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Ambassadors to Denmark from England
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Players who take the roles of Prologue, Player King, Player Queen, and Lucianus in <title>The Murder of Gonzago</title>
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Two Messengers
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Sailors
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Gravedigger
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Gravedigger's companion
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Doctor of Divinity
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Attendants, Lords, Guards, Musicians, Laertes's Followers, Soldiers, Officers
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ACT 1
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=====
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Scene 1
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=======
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[Enter Barnardo and Francisco, two sentinels.]
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BARNARDO Who's there?
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FRANCISCO
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Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.
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BARNARDO Long live the King!
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FRANCISCO Barnardo?
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BARNARDO He.
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FRANCISCO
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You come most carefully upon your hour.
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BARNARDO
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'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.
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FRANCISCO
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For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold,
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And I am sick at heart.
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BARNARDO Have you had quiet guard?
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FRANCISCO Not a mouse stirring.
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BARNARDO Well, good night.
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If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
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The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
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[Enter Horatio and Marcellus.]
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FRANCISCO
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I think I hear them.--Stand ho! Who is there?
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HORATIO Friends to this ground.
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MARCELLUS And liegemen to the Dane.
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FRANCISCO Give you good night.
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MARCELLUS
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O farewell, honest soldier. Who hath relieved
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you?
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FRANCISCO
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Barnardo hath my place. Give you good night.
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[Francisco exits.]
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MARCELLUS Holla, Barnardo.
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BARNARDO Say, what, is Horatio there?
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HORATIO A piece of him.
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BARNARDO
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Welcome, Horatio.--Welcome, good Marcellus.
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HORATIO
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What, has this thing appeared again tonight?
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BARNARDO I have seen nothing.
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MARCELLUS
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Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy
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And will not let belief take hold of him
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Touching this dreaded sight twice seen of us.
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Therefore I have entreated him along
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With us to watch the minutes of this night,
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That, if again this apparition come,
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He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
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HORATIO
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Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.
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BARNARDO Sit down awhile,
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And let us once again assail your ears,
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That are so fortified against our story,
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What we have two nights seen.
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HORATIO Well, sit we down,
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And let us hear Barnardo speak of this.
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BARNARDO Last night of all,
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When yond same star that's westward from the pole
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Had made his course t' illume that part of heaven
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Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
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The bell then beating one--
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[Enter Ghost.]
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MARCELLUS
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Peace, break thee off! Look where it comes again.
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BARNARDO
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In the same figure like the King that's dead.
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MARCELLUS, [to Horatio]
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Thou art a scholar. Speak to it, Horatio.
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BARNARDO
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Looks he not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.
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HORATIO
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Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.
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BARNARDO
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It would be spoke to.
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MARCELLUS Speak to it, Horatio.
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HORATIO
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What art thou that usurp'st this time of night,
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Together with that fair and warlike form
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In which the majesty of buried Denmark
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Did sometimes march? By heaven, I charge thee,
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speak.
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MARCELLUS
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It is offended.
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BARNARDO See, it stalks away.
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HORATIO
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Stay! speak! speak! I charge thee, speak!
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[Ghost exits.]
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MARCELLUS 'Tis gone and will not answer.
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BARNARDO
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How now, Horatio, you tremble and look pale.
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Is not this something more than fantasy?
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What think you on 't?
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HORATIO
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Before my God, I might not this believe
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Without the sensible and true avouch
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Of mine own eyes.
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MARCELLUS Is it not like the King?
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HORATIO As thou art to thyself.
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Such was the very armor he had on
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When he the ambitious Norway combated.
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So frowned he once when, in an angry parle,
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He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
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'Tis strange.
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MARCELLUS
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Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
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With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
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HORATIO
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In what particular thought to work I know not,
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But in the gross and scope of mine opinion
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This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
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MARCELLUS
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Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,
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Why this same strict and most observant watch
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So nightly toils the subject of the land,
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And why such daily cast of brazen cannon
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And foreign mart for implements of war,
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Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
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Does not divide the Sunday from the week.
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What might be toward that this sweaty haste
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Doth make the night joint laborer with the day?
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Who is 't that can inform me?
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HORATIO That can I.
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At least the whisper goes so: our last king,
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Whose image even but now appeared to us,
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Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
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Thereto pricked on by a most emulate pride,
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Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet
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(For so this side of our known world esteemed him)
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Did slay this Fortinbras, who by a sealed compact,
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Well ratified by law and heraldry,
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Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
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Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror.
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Against the which a moiety competent
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Was gaged by our king, which had returned
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To the inheritance of Fortinbras
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Had he been vanquisher, as, by the same comart
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And carriage of the article designed,
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His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
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Of unimproved mettle hot and full,
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Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there
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Sharked up a list of lawless resolutes
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For food and diet to some enterprise
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That hath a stomach in 't; which is no other
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(As it doth well appear unto our state)
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But to recover of us, by strong hand
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And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands
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So by his father lost. And this, I take it,
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Is the main motive of our preparations,
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The source of this our watch, and the chief head
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Of this posthaste and rummage in the land.
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BARNARDO
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I think it be no other but e'en so.
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Well may it sort that this portentous figure
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Comes armed through our watch so like the king
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That was and is the question of these wars.
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HORATIO
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A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
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In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
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A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
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The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
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Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets;
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As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
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Disasters in the sun; and the moist star,
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Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands,
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Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.
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And even the like precurse of feared events,
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As harbingers preceding still the fates
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And prologue to the omen coming on,
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Have heaven and Earth together demonstrated
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Unto our climatures and countrymen.
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[Enter Ghost.]
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But soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again!
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I'll cross it though it blast me.--Stay, illusion!
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[It spreads his arms.]
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If thou hast any sound or use of voice,
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Speak to me.
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If there be any good thing to be done
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That may to thee do ease and grace to me,
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Speak to me.
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If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
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Which happily foreknowing may avoid,
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O, speak!
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Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
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Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,
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For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,
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Speak of it. [The cock crows.]
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Stay and speak!--Stop it, Marcellus.
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MARCELLUS
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Shall I strike it with my partisan?
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HORATIO Do, if it will not stand.
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BARNARDO 'Tis here.
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HORATIO 'Tis here.
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[Ghost exits.]
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MARCELLUS 'Tis gone.
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We do it wrong, being so majestical,
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To offer it the show of violence,
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For it is as the air, invulnerable,
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And our vain blows malicious mockery.
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BARNARDO
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It was about to speak when the cock crew.
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HORATIO
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And then it started like a guilty thing
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Upon a fearful summons. I have heard
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The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
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Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
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Awake the god of day, and at his warning,
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Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
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Th' extravagant and erring spirit hies
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To his confine, and of the truth herein
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This present object made probation.
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MARCELLUS
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It faded on the crowing of the cock.
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Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
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Wherein our Savior's birth is celebrated,
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This bird of dawning singeth all night long;
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And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,
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The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
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No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
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So hallowed and so gracious is that time.
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HORATIO
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So have I heard and do in part believe it.
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But look, the morn in russet mantle clad
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Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill.
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Break we our watch up, and by my advice
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Let us impart what we have seen tonight
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Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,
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This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
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Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it
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As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
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MARCELLUS
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Let's do 't, I pray, and I this morning know
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Where we shall find him most convenient.
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[They exit.]
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Scene 2
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=======
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[Flourish. Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrude the
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Queen, the Council, as Polonius, and his son Laertes,
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Hamlet, with others, among them Voltemand and
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Cornelius.]
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KING
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Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
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The memory be green, and that it us befitted
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To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
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To be contracted in one brow of woe,
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Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
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That we with wisest sorrow think on him
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Together with remembrance of ourselves.
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Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
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Th' imperial jointress to this warlike state,
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Have we (as 'twere with a defeated joy,
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With an auspicious and a dropping eye,
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With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
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In equal scale weighing delight and dole)
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Taken to wife. Nor have we herein barred
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Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
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With this affair along. For all, our thanks.
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Now follows that you know. Young Fortinbras,
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Holding a weak supposal of our worth
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Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
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Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
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Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
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He hath not failed to pester us with message
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Importing the surrender of those lands
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Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,
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To our most valiant brother--so much for him.
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Now for ourself and for this time of meeting.
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Thus much the business is: we have here writ
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To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,
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Who, impotent and bedrid, scarcely hears
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Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress
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His further gait herein, in that the levies,
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The lists, and full proportions are all made
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Out of his subject; and we here dispatch
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You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,
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For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,
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Giving to you no further personal power
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To business with the King more than the scope
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Of these dilated articles allow.
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[Giving them a paper.]
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Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.
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CORNELIUS/VOLTEMAND
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In that and all things will we show our duty.
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KING
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We doubt it nothing. Heartily farewell.
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[Voltemand and Cornelius exit.]
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And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?
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You told us of some suit. What is 't, Laertes?
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You cannot speak of reason to the Dane
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And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg,
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Laertes,
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That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
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The head is not more native to the heart,
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The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
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Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
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What wouldst thou have, Laertes?
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LAERTES My dread lord,
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Your leave and favor to return to France,
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From whence though willingly I came to Denmark
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To show my duty in your coronation,
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Yet now I must confess, that duty done,
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My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France
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And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
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KING
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Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?
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POLONIUS
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Hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave
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By laborsome petition, and at last
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Upon his will I sealed my hard consent.
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I do beseech you give him leave to go.
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KING
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Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine,
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And thy best graces spend it at thy will.--
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But now, my cousin Hamlet and my son--
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HAMLET, [aside]
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A little more than kin and less than kind.
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KING
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How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
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HAMLET
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Not so, my lord; I am too much in the sun.
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QUEEN
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Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off,
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And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
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Do not forever with thy vailed lids
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Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
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Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,
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Passing through nature to eternity.
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HAMLET
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Ay, madam, it is common.
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QUEEN If it be,
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Why seems it so particular with thee?
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HAMLET
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"Seems," madam? Nay, it is. I know not "seems."
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'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
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Nor customary suits of solemn black,
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Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
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No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
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Nor the dejected havior of the visage,
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Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,
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That can denote me truly. These indeed "seem,"
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For they are actions that a man might play;
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But I have that within which passes show,
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These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
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KING
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'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature,
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Hamlet,
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To give these mourning duties to your father.
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But you must know your father lost a father,
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That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
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In filial obligation for some term
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To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever
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In obstinate condolement is a course
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Of impious stubbornness. 'Tis unmanly grief.
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It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
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A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,
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An understanding simple and unschooled.
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For what we know must be and is as common
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As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
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Why should we in our peevish opposition
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Take it to heart? Fie, 'tis a fault to heaven,
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A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
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To reason most absurd, whose common theme
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Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
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From the first corse till he that died today,
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"This must be so." We pray you, throw to earth
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This unprevailing woe and think of us
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As of a father; for let the world take note,
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You are the most immediate to our throne,
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And with no less nobility of love
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Than that which dearest father bears his son
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Do I impart toward you. For your intent
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In going back to school in Wittenberg,
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It is most retrograde to our desire,
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And we beseech you, bend you to remain
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Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
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Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
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QUEEN
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Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.
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I pray thee, stay with us. Go not to Wittenberg.
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HAMLET
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I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
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KING
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Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply.
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Be as ourself in Denmark.--Madam, come.
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This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet
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Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof
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No jocund health that Denmark drinks today
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But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,
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And the King's rouse the heaven shall bruit again,
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Respeaking earthly thunder. Come away.
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[Flourish. All but Hamlet exit.]
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HAMLET
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O, that this too, too sullied flesh would melt,
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Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,
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Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
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His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God, God,
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How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
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Seem to me all the uses of this world!
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Fie on 't, ah fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden
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That grows to seed. Things rank and gross in nature
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Possess it merely. That it should come to this:
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But two months dead--nay, not so much, not two.
|
|
So excellent a king, that was to this
|
|
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
|
|
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
|
|
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and Earth,
|
|
Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him
|
|
As if increase of appetite had grown
|
|
By what it fed on. And yet, within a month
|
|
(Let me not think on 't; frailty, thy name is woman!),
|
|
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
|
|
With which she followed my poor father's body,
|
|
Like Niobe, all tears--why she, even she
|
|
(O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason
|
|
Would have mourned longer!), married with my
|
|
uncle,
|
|
My father's brother, but no more like my father
|
|
Than I to Hercules. Within a month,
|
|
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
|
|
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
|
|
She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
|
|
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
|
|
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
|
|
But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Barnardo.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Hail to your Lordship.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I am glad to see you well.
|
|
Horatio--or I do forget myself!
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Sir, my good friend. I'll change that name with you.
|
|
And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?--
|
|
Marcellus?
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS My good lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I am very glad to see you. [To Barnardo.] Good
|
|
even, sir.--
|
|
But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
A truant disposition, good my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I would not hear your enemy say so,
|
|
Nor shall you do my ear that violence
|
|
To make it truster of your own report
|
|
Against yourself. I know you are no truant.
|
|
But what is your affair in Elsinore?
|
|
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I prithee, do not mock me, fellow student.
|
|
I think it was to see my mother's wedding.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Thrift, thrift, Horatio. The funeral baked meats
|
|
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
|
|
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
|
|
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
|
|
My father--methinks I see my father.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Where, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET In my mind's eye, Horatio.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
I saw him once. He was a goodly king.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
He was a man. Take him for all in all,
|
|
I shall not look upon his like again.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Saw who?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
My lord, the King your father.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET The King my father?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Season your admiration for a while
|
|
With an attent ear, till I may deliver
|
|
Upon the witness of these gentlemen
|
|
This marvel to you.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET For God's love, let me hear!
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Two nights together had these gentlemen,
|
|
Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch,
|
|
In the dead waste and middle of the night,
|
|
Been thus encountered: a figure like your father,
|
|
Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pie,
|
|
Appears before them and with solemn march
|
|
Goes slow and stately by them. Thrice he walked
|
|
By their oppressed and fear-surprised eyes
|
|
Within his truncheon's length, whilst they, distilled
|
|
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
|
|
Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me
|
|
In dreadful secrecy impart they did,
|
|
And I with them the third night kept the watch,
|
|
Where, as they had delivered, both in time,
|
|
Form of the thing (each word made true and good),
|
|
The apparition comes. I knew your father;
|
|
These hands are not more like.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET But where was this?
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS
|
|
My lord, upon the platform where we watch.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Did you not speak to it?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO My lord, I did,
|
|
But answer made it none. Yet once methought
|
|
It lifted up its head and did address
|
|
Itself to motion, like as it would speak;
|
|
But even then the morning cock crew loud,
|
|
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away
|
|
And vanished from our sight.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET 'Tis very strange.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
As I do live, my honored lord, 'tis true.
|
|
And we did think it writ down in our duty
|
|
To let you know of it.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
|
|
Hold you the watch tonight?
|
|
|
|
ALL We do, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Armed, say you?
|
|
|
|
ALL Armed, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET From top to toe?
|
|
|
|
ALL My lord, from head to foot.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Then saw you not his face?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
O, yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What, looked he frowningly?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Pale or red?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Nay, very pale.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET And fixed his eyes upon you?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Most constantly.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I would I had been there.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO It would have much amazed you.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Very like. Stayed it long?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
While one with moderate haste might tell a
|
|
hundred.
|
|
|
|
BARNARDO/MARCELLUS Longer, longer.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Not when I saw 't.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET His beard was grizzled, no?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
It was as I have seen it in his life,
|
|
A sable silvered.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I will watch tonight.
|
|
Perchance 'twill walk again.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO I warrant it will.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
If it assume my noble father's person,
|
|
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
|
|
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
|
|
If you have hitherto concealed this sight,
|
|
Let it be tenable in your silence still;
|
|
And whatsomever else shall hap tonight,
|
|
Give it an understanding but no tongue.
|
|
I will requite your loves. So fare you well.
|
|
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
|
|
I'll visit you.
|
|
|
|
ALL Our duty to your Honor.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Your loves, as mine to you. Farewell.
|
|
[All but Hamlet exit.]
|
|
My father's spirit--in arms! All is not well.
|
|
I doubt some foul play. Would the night were come!
|
|
Till then, sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise,
|
|
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's
|
|
eyes.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Laertes and Ophelia, his sister.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
My necessaries are embarked. Farewell.
|
|
And, sister, as the winds give benefit
|
|
And convey is assistant, do not sleep,
|
|
But let me hear from you.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Do you doubt that?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favor,
|
|
Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood,
|
|
A violet in the youth of primy nature,
|
|
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
|
|
The perfume and suppliance of a minute,
|
|
No more.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA No more but so?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Think it no more.
|
|
For nature, crescent, does not grow alone
|
|
In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes,
|
|
The inward service of the mind and soul
|
|
Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,
|
|
And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch
|
|
The virtue of his will; but you must fear,
|
|
His greatness weighed, his will is not his own,
|
|
For he himself is subject to his birth.
|
|
He may not, as unvalued persons do,
|
|
Carve for himself, for on his choice depends
|
|
The safety and the health of this whole state.
|
|
And therefore must his choice be circumscribed
|
|
Unto the voice and yielding of that body
|
|
Whereof he is the head. Then, if he says he loves
|
|
you,
|
|
It fits your wisdom so far to believe it
|
|
As he in his particular act and place
|
|
May give his saying deed, which is no further
|
|
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
|
|
Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain
|
|
If with too credent ear you list his songs
|
|
Or lose your heart or your chaste treasure open
|
|
To his unmastered importunity.
|
|
Fear it, Ophelia; fear it, my dear sister,
|
|
And keep you in the rear of your affection,
|
|
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
|
|
The chariest maid is prodigal enough
|
|
If she unmask her beauty to the moon.
|
|
Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes.
|
|
The canker galls the infants of the spring
|
|
Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,
|
|
And, in the morn and liquid dew of youth,
|
|
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
|
|
Be wary, then; best safety lies in fear.
|
|
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
I shall the effect of this good lesson keep
|
|
As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,
|
|
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
|
|
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,
|
|
Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine,
|
|
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads
|
|
And recks not his own rede.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES O, fear me not.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Polonius.]
|
|
|
|
I stay too long. But here my father comes.
|
|
A double blessing is a double grace.
|
|
Occasion smiles upon a second leave.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame!
|
|
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
|
|
And you are stayed for. There, my blessing with
|
|
thee.
|
|
And these few precepts in thy memory
|
|
Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
|
|
Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
|
|
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
|
|
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
|
|
Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel,
|
|
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
|
|
Of each new-hatched, unfledged courage. Beware
|
|
Of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in,
|
|
Bear 't that th' opposed may beware of thee.
|
|
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.
|
|
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
|
|
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
|
|
But not expressed in fancy (rich, not gaudy),
|
|
For the apparel oft proclaims the man,
|
|
And they in France of the best rank and station
|
|
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
|
|
Neither a borrower nor a lender be,
|
|
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
|
|
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
|
|
This above all: to thine own self be true,
|
|
And it must follow, as the night the day,
|
|
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
|
|
Farewell. My blessing season this in thee.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
The time invests you. Go, your servants tend.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well
|
|
What I have said to you.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA 'Tis in my memory locked,
|
|
And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Farewell. [Laertes exits.]
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
What is 't, Ophelia, he hath said to you?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
So please you, something touching the Lord
|
|
Hamlet.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Marry, well bethought.
|
|
'Tis told me he hath very oft of late
|
|
Given private time to you, and you yourself
|
|
Have of your audience been most free and
|
|
bounteous.
|
|
If it be so (as so 'tis put on me,
|
|
And that in way of caution), I must tell you
|
|
You do not understand yourself so clearly
|
|
As it behooves my daughter and your honor.
|
|
What is between you? Give me up the truth.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders
|
|
Of his affection to me.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Affection, puh! You speak like a green girl
|
|
Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
|
|
Do you believe his "tenders," as you call them?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Marry, I will teach you. Think yourself a baby
|
|
That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay,
|
|
Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly,
|
|
Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
|
|
Running it thus) you'll tender me a fool.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
My lord, he hath importuned me with love
|
|
In honorable fashion--
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Ay, "fashion" you may call it. Go to, go to!
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,
|
|
With almost all the holy vows of heaven.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,
|
|
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
|
|
Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter,
|
|
Giving more light than heat, extinct in both
|
|
Even in their promise as it is a-making,
|
|
You must not take for fire. From this time
|
|
Be something scanter of your maiden presence.
|
|
Set your entreatments at a higher rate
|
|
Than a command to parle. For Lord Hamlet,
|
|
Believe so much in him that he is young,
|
|
And with a larger tether may he walk
|
|
Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia,
|
|
Do not believe his vows, for they are brokers,
|
|
Not of that dye which their investments show,
|
|
But mere implorators of unholy suits,
|
|
Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds
|
|
The better to beguile. This is for all:
|
|
I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth
|
|
Have you so slander any moment leisure
|
|
As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
|
|
Look to 't, I charge you. Come your ways.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA I shall obey, my lord.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 4
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
It is a nipping and an eager air.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What hour now?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO I think it lacks of twelve.
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS No, it is struck.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Indeed, I heard it not. It then draws near the season
|
|
Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
|
|
[A flourish of trumpets and two pieces goes off.]
|
|
What does this mean, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
The King doth wake tonight and takes his rouse,
|
|
Keeps wassail, and the swagg'ring upspring reels;
|
|
And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
|
|
The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out
|
|
The triumph of his pledge.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Is it a custom?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ay, marry, is 't,
|
|
But, to my mind, though I am native here
|
|
And to the manner born, it is a custom
|
|
More honored in the breach than the observance.
|
|
This heavy-headed revel east and west
|
|
Makes us traduced and taxed of other nations.
|
|
They clepe us drunkards and with swinish phrase
|
|
Soil our addition. And, indeed, it takes
|
|
From our achievements, though performed at
|
|
height,
|
|
The pith and marrow of our attribute.
|
|
So oft it chances in particular men
|
|
That for some vicious mole of nature in them,
|
|
As in their birth (wherein they are not guilty,
|
|
Since nature cannot choose his origin),
|
|
By the o'ergrowth of some complexion
|
|
(Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason),
|
|
Or by some habit that too much o'erleavens
|
|
The form of plausive manners--that these men,
|
|
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,
|
|
Being nature's livery or fortune's star,
|
|
His virtues else, be they as pure as grace,
|
|
As infinite as man may undergo,
|
|
Shall in the general censure take corruption
|
|
From that particular fault. The dram of evil
|
|
Doth all the noble substance of a doubt
|
|
To his own scandal.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Ghost.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Look, my lord, it comes.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!
|
|
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned,
|
|
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from
|
|
hell,
|
|
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
|
|
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
|
|
That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee "Hamlet,"
|
|
"King," "Father," "Royal Dane." O, answer me!
|
|
Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell
|
|
Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death,
|
|
Have burst their cerements; why the sepulcher,
|
|
Wherein we saw thee quietly interred,
|
|
Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws
|
|
To cast thee up again. What may this mean
|
|
That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel,
|
|
Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon,
|
|
Making night hideous, and we fools of nature
|
|
So horridly to shake our disposition
|
|
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
|
|
Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do?
|
|
[Ghost beckons.]
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
It beckons you to go away with it
|
|
As if it some impartment did desire
|
|
To you alone.
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS Look with what courteous action
|
|
It waves you to a more removed ground.
|
|
But do not go with it.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO No, by no means.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
It will not speak. Then I will follow it.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Do not, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why, what should be the fear?
|
|
I do not set my life at a pin's fee.
|
|
And for my soul, what can it do to that,
|
|
Being a thing immortal as itself?
|
|
It waves me forth again. I'll follow it.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord?
|
|
Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
|
|
That beetles o'er his base into the sea,
|
|
And there assume some other horrible form
|
|
Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason
|
|
And draw you into madness? Think of it.
|
|
The very place puts toys of desperation,
|
|
Without more motive, into every brain
|
|
That looks so many fathoms to the sea
|
|
And hears it roar beneath.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
It waves me still.--Go on, I'll follow thee.
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS
|
|
You shall not go, my lord. [They hold back Hamlet.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Hold off your hands.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Be ruled. You shall not go.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET My fate cries out
|
|
And makes each petty arture in this body
|
|
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
|
|
Still am I called. Unhand me, gentlemen.
|
|
By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!
|
|
I say, away!--Go on. I'll follow thee.
|
|
[Ghost and Hamlet exit.]
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
He waxes desperate with imagination.
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS
|
|
Let's follow. 'Tis not fit thus to obey him.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Have after. To what issue will this come?
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS
|
|
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Heaven will direct it.
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS Nay, let's follow him.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 5
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Ghost and Hamlet.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak. I'll go no
|
|
further.
|
|
|
|
GHOST
|
|
Mark me.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I will.
|
|
|
|
GHOST My hour is almost come
|
|
When I to sulf'rous and tormenting flames
|
|
Must render up myself.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Alas, poor ghost!
|
|
|
|
GHOST
|
|
Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing
|
|
To what I shall unfold.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Speak. I am bound to hear.
|
|
|
|
GHOST
|
|
So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What?
|
|
|
|
GHOST I am thy father's spirit,
|
|
Doomed for a certain term to walk the night
|
|
And for the day confined to fast in fires
|
|
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
|
|
Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid
|
|
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
|
|
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
|
|
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
|
|
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their
|
|
spheres,
|
|
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
|
|
And each particular hair to stand an end,
|
|
Like quills upon the fearful porpentine.
|
|
But this eternal blazon must not be
|
|
To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O list!
|
|
If thou didst ever thy dear father love--
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O God!
|
|
|
|
GHOST
|
|
Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Murder?
|
|
|
|
GHOST
|
|
Murder most foul, as in the best it is,
|
|
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Haste me to know 't, that I, with wings as swift
|
|
As meditation or the thoughts of love,
|
|
May sweep to my revenge.
|
|
|
|
GHOST I find thee apt;
|
|
And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
|
|
That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,
|
|
Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear.
|
|
'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,
|
|
A serpent stung me. So the whole ear of Denmark
|
|
Is by a forged process of my death
|
|
Rankly abused. But know, thou noble youth,
|
|
The serpent that did sting thy father's life
|
|
Now wears his crown.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O, my prophetic soul! My uncle!
|
|
|
|
GHOST
|
|
Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
|
|
With witchcraft of his wits, with traitorous gifts--
|
|
O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power
|
|
So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust
|
|
The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen.
|
|
O Hamlet, what a falling off was there!
|
|
From me, whose love was of that dignity
|
|
That it went hand in hand even with the vow
|
|
I made to her in marriage, and to decline
|
|
Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor
|
|
To those of mine.
|
|
But virtue, as it never will be moved,
|
|
Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,
|
|
So, lust, though to a radiant angel linked,
|
|
Will sate itself in a celestial bed
|
|
And prey on garbage.
|
|
But soft, methinks I scent the morning air.
|
|
Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,
|
|
My custom always of the afternoon,
|
|
Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole
|
|
With juice of cursed hebona in a vial
|
|
And in the porches of my ears did pour
|
|
The leprous distilment, whose effect
|
|
Holds such an enmity with blood of man
|
|
That swift as quicksilver it courses through
|
|
The natural gates and alleys of the body,
|
|
And with a sudden vigor it doth posset
|
|
And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
|
|
The thin and wholesome blood. So did it mine,
|
|
And a most instant tetter barked about,
|
|
Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust
|
|
All my smooth body.
|
|
Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand
|
|
Of life, of crown, of queen at once dispatched,
|
|
Cut off, even in the blossoms of my sin,
|
|
Unhouseled, disappointed, unaneled,
|
|
No reck'ning made, but sent to my account
|
|
With all my imperfections on my head.
|
|
O horrible, O horrible, most horrible!
|
|
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not.
|
|
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
|
|
A couch for luxury and damned incest.
|
|
But, howsomever thou pursues this act,
|
|
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
|
|
Against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven
|
|
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge
|
|
To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once.
|
|
The glowworm shows the matin to be near
|
|
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
|
|
Adieu, adieu, adieu. Remember me. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
O all you host of heaven! O Earth! What else?
|
|
And shall I couple hell? O fie! Hold, hold, my heart,
|
|
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
|
|
But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee?
|
|
Ay, thou poor ghost, whiles memory holds a seat
|
|
In this distracted globe. Remember thee?
|
|
Yea, from the table of my memory
|
|
I'll wipe away all trivial, fond records,
|
|
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
|
|
That youth and observation copied there,
|
|
And thy commandment all alone shall live
|
|
Within the book and volume of my brain,
|
|
Unmixed with baser matter. Yes, by heaven!
|
|
O most pernicious woman!
|
|
O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
|
|
My tables--meet it is I set it down
|
|
That one may smile and smile and be a villain.
|
|
At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.
|
|
[He writes.]
|
|
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word.
|
|
It is "adieu, adieu, remember me."
|
|
I have sworn 't.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Horatio and Marcellus.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HORATIO My lord, my lord!
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS Lord Hamlet.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Heavens secure him!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET So be it.
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come!
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS
|
|
How is 't, my noble lord?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO What news, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O, wonderful!
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Good my lord, tell it.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET No, you will reveal it.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
Not I, my lord, by heaven.
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
How say you, then? Would heart of man once think
|
|
it?
|
|
But you'll be secret?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO/MARCELLUS Ay, by heaven, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
There's never a villain dwelling in all Denmark
|
|
But he's an arrant knave.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave
|
|
To tell us this.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why, right, you are in the right.
|
|
And so, without more circumstance at all,
|
|
I hold it fit that we shake hands and part,
|
|
You, as your business and desire shall point you
|
|
(For every man hath business and desire,
|
|
Such as it is), and for my own poor part,
|
|
I will go pray.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I am sorry they offend you, heartily;
|
|
Yes, faith, heartily.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO There's no offense, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,
|
|
And much offense, too. Touching this vision here,
|
|
It is an honest ghost--that let me tell you.
|
|
For your desire to know what is between us,
|
|
O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends,
|
|
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
|
|
Give me one poor request.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO What is 't, my lord? We will.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Never make known what you have seen tonight.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO/MARCELLUS My lord, we will not.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nay, but swear 't.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO In faith, my lord, not I.
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord, in faith.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Upon my sword.
|
|
|
|
MARCELLUS We have sworn, my lord, already.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.
|
|
|
|
GHOST [cries under the stage] Swear.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Ha, ha, boy, sayst thou so? Art thou there,
|
|
truepenny?
|
|
Come on, you hear this fellow in the cellarage.
|
|
Consent to swear.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Propose the oath, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Never to speak of this that you have seen,
|
|
Swear by my sword.
|
|
|
|
GHOST, [beneath] Swear.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Hic et ubique? Then we'll shift our ground.
|
|
Come hither, gentlemen,
|
|
And lay your hands again upon my sword.
|
|
Swear by my sword
|
|
Never to speak of this that you have heard.
|
|
|
|
GHOST, [beneath] Swear by his sword.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Well said, old mole. Canst work i' th' earth so fast?--
|
|
A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
O day and night, but this is wondrous strange.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
|
|
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
|
|
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come.
|
|
Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
|
|
How strange or odd some'er I bear myself
|
|
(As I perchance hereafter shall think meet
|
|
To put an antic disposition on)
|
|
That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
|
|
With arms encumbered thus, or this headshake,
|
|
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
|
|
As "Well, well, we know," or "We could an if we
|
|
would,"
|
|
Or "If we list to speak," or "There be an if they
|
|
might,"
|
|
Or such ambiguous giving-out, to note
|
|
That you know aught of me--this do swear,
|
|
So grace and mercy at your most need help you.
|
|
|
|
GHOST, [beneath] Swear.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Rest, rest, perturbed spirit.--So, gentlemen,
|
|
With all my love I do commend me to you,
|
|
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
|
|
May do t' express his love and friending to you,
|
|
God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together,
|
|
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
|
|
The time is out of joint. O cursed spite
|
|
That ever I was born to set it right!
|
|
Nay, come, let's go together.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 2
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter old Polonius with his man Reynaldo.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo.
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO I will, my lord.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
You shall do marvelous wisely, good Reynaldo,
|
|
Before you visit him, to make inquire
|
|
Of his behavior.
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO My lord, I did intend it.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Marry, well said, very well said. Look you, sir,
|
|
Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris;
|
|
And how, and who, what means, and where they
|
|
keep,
|
|
What company, at what expense; and finding
|
|
By this encompassment and drift of question
|
|
That they do know my son, come you more nearer
|
|
Than your particular demands will touch it.
|
|
Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him,
|
|
As thus: "I know his father and his friends
|
|
And, in part, him." Do you mark this, Reynaldo?
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO Ay, very well, my lord.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
"And, in part, him, but," you may say, "not well.
|
|
But if 't be he I mean, he's very wild,
|
|
Addicted so and so." And there put on him
|
|
What forgeries you please--marry, none so rank
|
|
As may dishonor him, take heed of that,
|
|
But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips
|
|
As are companions noted and most known
|
|
To youth and liberty.
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO As gaming, my lord.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing,
|
|
Quarreling, drabbing--you may go so far.
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO My lord, that would dishonor him.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Faith, no, as you may season it in the charge.
|
|
You must not put another scandal on him
|
|
That he is open to incontinency;
|
|
That's not my meaning. But breathe his faults so
|
|
quaintly
|
|
That they may seem the taints of liberty,
|
|
The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind,
|
|
A savageness in unreclaimed blood,
|
|
Of general assault.
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO But, my good lord--
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Wherefore should you do this?
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO Ay, my lord, I would know that.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Marry, sir, here's my drift,
|
|
And I believe it is a fetch of wit.
|
|
You, laying these slight sullies on my son,
|
|
As 'twere a thing a little soiled i' th' working,
|
|
Mark you, your party in converse, him you would
|
|
sound,
|
|
Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes
|
|
The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured
|
|
He closes with you in this consequence:
|
|
"Good sir," or so, or "friend," or "gentleman,"
|
|
According to the phrase or the addition
|
|
Of man and country--
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO Very good, my lord.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS And then, sir, does he this, he does--what
|
|
was I about to say? By the Mass, I was about to say
|
|
something. Where did I leave?
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO At "closes in the consequence," at "friend,
|
|
or so," and "gentleman."
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
At "closes in the consequence"--ay, marry--
|
|
He closes thus: "I know the gentleman.
|
|
I saw him yesterday," or "th' other day"
|
|
(Or then, or then, with such or such), "and as you
|
|
say,
|
|
There was he gaming, there o'ertook in 's rouse,
|
|
There falling out at tennis"; or perchance
|
|
"I saw him enter such a house of sale"--
|
|
Videlicet, a brothel--or so forth. See you now
|
|
Your bait of falsehood take this carp of truth;
|
|
And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,
|
|
With windlasses and with assays of bias,
|
|
By indirections find directions out.
|
|
So by my former lecture and advice
|
|
Shall you my son. You have me, have you not?
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO
|
|
My lord, I have.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS God be wi' you. Fare you well.
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO Good my lord.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Observe his inclination in yourself.
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO I shall, my lord.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS And let him ply his music.
|
|
|
|
REYNALDO Well, my lord.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Farewell. [Reynaldo exits.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Ophelia.]
|
|
|
|
How now, Ophelia, what's the matter?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS With what, i' th' name of God?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,
|
|
Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced,
|
|
No hat upon his head, his stockings fouled,
|
|
Ungartered, and down-gyved to his ankle,
|
|
Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other,
|
|
And with a look so piteous in purport
|
|
As if he had been loosed out of hell
|
|
To speak of horrors--he comes before me.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Mad for thy love?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA My lord, I do not know,
|
|
But truly I do fear it.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS What said he?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
He took me by the wrist and held me hard.
|
|
Then goes he to the length of all his arm,
|
|
And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
|
|
He falls to such perusal of my face
|
|
As he would draw it. Long stayed he so.
|
|
At last, a little shaking of mine arm,
|
|
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
|
|
He raised a sigh so piteous and profound
|
|
As it did seem to shatter all his bulk
|
|
And end his being. That done, he lets me go,
|
|
And, with his head over his shoulder turned,
|
|
He seemed to find his way without his eyes,
|
|
For out o' doors he went without their helps
|
|
And to the last bended their light on me.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Come, go with me. I will go seek the King.
|
|
This is the very ecstasy of love,
|
|
Whose violent property fordoes itself
|
|
And leads the will to desperate undertakings
|
|
As oft as any passions under heaven
|
|
That does afflict our natures. I am sorry.
|
|
What, have you given him any hard words of late?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
No, my good lord, but as you did command
|
|
I did repel his letters and denied
|
|
His access to me.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS That hath made him mad.
|
|
I am sorry that with better heed and judgment
|
|
I had not coted him. I feared he did but trifle
|
|
And meant to wrack thee. But beshrew my jealousy!
|
|
By heaven, it is as proper to our age
|
|
To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions
|
|
As it is common for the younger sort
|
|
To lack discretion. Come, go we to the King.
|
|
This must be known, which, being kept close, might
|
|
move
|
|
More grief to hide than hate to utter love.
|
|
Come.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Flourish. Enter King and Queen, Rosencrantz and
|
|
Guildenstern and Attendants.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
|
|
Moreover that we much did long to see you,
|
|
The need we have to use you did provoke
|
|
Our hasty sending. Something have you heard
|
|
Of Hamlet's transformation, so call it,
|
|
Sith nor th' exterior nor the inward man
|
|
Resembles that it was. What it should be,
|
|
More than his father's death, that thus hath put him
|
|
So much from th' understanding of himself
|
|
I cannot dream of. I entreat you both
|
|
That, being of so young days brought up with him
|
|
And sith so neighbored to his youth and havior,
|
|
That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court
|
|
Some little time, so by your companies
|
|
To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather
|
|
So much as from occasion you may glean,
|
|
Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus
|
|
That, opened, lies within our remedy.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Good gentlemen, he hath much talked of you,
|
|
And sure I am two men there is not living
|
|
To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
|
|
To show us so much gentry and goodwill
|
|
As to expend your time with us awhile
|
|
For the supply and profit of our hope,
|
|
Your visitation shall receive such thanks
|
|
As fits a king's remembrance.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Both your Majesties
|
|
Might, by the sovereign power you have of us,
|
|
Put your dread pleasures more into command
|
|
Than to entreaty.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN But we both obey,
|
|
And here give up ourselves in the full bent
|
|
To lay our service freely at your feet,
|
|
To be commanded.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz.
|
|
And I beseech you instantly to visit
|
|
My too much changed son.--Go, some of you,
|
|
And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN
|
|
Heavens make our presence and our practices
|
|
Pleasant and helpful to him!
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Ay, amen!
|
|
[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit
|
|
with some Attendants.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Polonius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Th' ambassadors from Norway, my good lord,
|
|
Are joyfully returned.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Thou still hast been the father of good news.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege
|
|
I hold my duty as I hold my soul,
|
|
Both to my God and to my gracious king,
|
|
And I do think, or else this brain of mine
|
|
Hunts not the trail of policy so sure
|
|
As it hath used to do, that I have found
|
|
The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
O, speak of that! That do I long to hear.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Give first admittance to th' ambassadors.
|
|
My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Thyself do grace to them and bring them in.
|
|
[Polonius exits.]
|
|
He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found
|
|
The head and source of all your son's distemper.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
I doubt it is no other but the main--
|
|
His father's death and our o'erhasty marriage.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Well, we shall sift him.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Ambassadors Voltemand and Cornelius with
|
|
Polonius.]
|
|
|
|
Welcome, my good friends.
|
|
Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway?
|
|
|
|
VOLTEMAND
|
|
Most fair return of greetings and desires.
|
|
Upon our first, he sent out to suppress
|
|
His nephew's levies, which to him appeared
|
|
To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack,
|
|
But, better looked into, he truly found
|
|
It was against your Highness. Whereat, grieved
|
|
That so his sickness, age, and impotence
|
|
Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests
|
|
On Fortinbras, which he, in brief, obeys,
|
|
Receives rebuke from Norway, and, in fine,
|
|
Makes vow before his uncle never more
|
|
To give th' assay of arms against your Majesty.
|
|
Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,
|
|
Gives him three-score thousand crowns in annual
|
|
fee
|
|
And his commission to employ those soldiers,
|
|
So levied as before, against the Polack,
|
|
With an entreaty, herein further shown,
|
|
[He gives a paper.]
|
|
That it might please you to give quiet pass
|
|
Through your dominions for this enterprise,
|
|
On such regards of safety and allowance
|
|
As therein are set down.
|
|
|
|
KING It likes us well,
|
|
And, at our more considered time, we'll read,
|
|
Answer, and think upon this business.
|
|
Meantime, we thank you for your well-took labor.
|
|
Go to your rest. At night we'll feast together.
|
|
Most welcome home!
|
|
[Voltemand and Cornelius exit.]
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS This business is well ended.
|
|
My liege, and madam, to expostulate
|
|
What majesty should be, what duty is,
|
|
Why day is day, night night, and time is time
|
|
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time.
|
|
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
|
|
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
|
|
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
|
|
"Mad" call I it, for, to define true madness,
|
|
What is 't but to be nothing else but mad?
|
|
But let that go.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN More matter with less art.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Madam, I swear I use no art at all.
|
|
That he's mad, 'tis true; 'tis true 'tis pity,
|
|
And pity 'tis 'tis true--a foolish figure,
|
|
But farewell it, for I will use no art.
|
|
Mad let us grant him then, and now remains
|
|
That we find out the cause of this effect,
|
|
Or, rather say, the cause of this defect,
|
|
For this effect defective comes by cause.
|
|
Thus it remains, and the remainder thus.
|
|
Perpend.
|
|
I have a daughter (have while she is mine)
|
|
Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,
|
|
Hath given me this. Now gather and surmise.
|
|
[He reads.] To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the
|
|
most beautified Ophelia--
|
|
That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; "beautified" is a
|
|
vile phrase. But you shall hear. Thus: [He reads.]
|
|
In her excellent white bosom, these, etc.--
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Came this from Hamlet to her?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Good madam, stay awhile. I will be faithful.
|
|
[He reads the letter.]
|
|
Doubt thou the stars are fire,
|
|
Doubt that the sun doth move,
|
|
Doubt truth to be a liar,
|
|
But never doubt I love.
|
|
O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers. I have not
|
|
art to reckon my groans, but that I love thee best, O
|
|
most best, believe it. Adieu.
|
|
Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst
|
|
this machine is to him, Hamlet.
|
|
This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me,
|
|
And more above, hath his solicitings,
|
|
As they fell out by time, by means, and place,
|
|
All given to mine ear.
|
|
|
|
KING But how hath she received his love?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS What do you think of me?
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
As of a man faithful and honorable.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
I would fain prove so. But what might you think,
|
|
When I had seen this hot love on the wing
|
|
(As I perceived it, I must tell you that,
|
|
Before my daughter told me), what might you,
|
|
Or my dear Majesty your queen here, think,
|
|
If I had played the desk or table-book
|
|
Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb,
|
|
Or looked upon this love with idle sight?
|
|
What might you think? No, I went round to work,
|
|
And my young mistress thus I did bespeak:
|
|
"Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star.
|
|
This must not be." And then I prescripts gave her,
|
|
That she should lock herself from his resort,
|
|
Admit no messengers, receive no tokens;
|
|
Which done, she took the fruits of my advice,
|
|
And he, repelled (a short tale to make),
|
|
Fell into a sadness, then into a fast,
|
|
Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness,
|
|
Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension,
|
|
Into the madness wherein now he raves
|
|
And all we mourn for.
|
|
|
|
KING, [to Queen] Do you think 'tis this?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN It may be, very like.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Hath there been such a time (I would fain know
|
|
that)
|
|
That I have positively said "'Tis so,"
|
|
When it proved otherwise?
|
|
|
|
KING Not that I know.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Take this from this, if this be otherwise.
|
|
If circumstances lead me, I will find
|
|
Where truth is hid, though it were hid, indeed,
|
|
Within the center.
|
|
|
|
KING How may we try it further?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
You know sometimes he walks four hours together
|
|
Here in the lobby.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN So he does indeed.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him.
|
|
[To the King.] Be you and I behind an arras then.
|
|
Mark the encounter. If he love her not,
|
|
And be not from his reason fall'n thereon,
|
|
Let me be no assistant for a state,
|
|
But keep a farm and carters.
|
|
|
|
KING We will try it.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Hamlet reading on a book.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
But look where sadly the poor wretch comes
|
|
reading.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Away, I do beseech you both, away.
|
|
I'll board him presently. O, give me leave.
|
|
[King and Queen exit with Attendants.]
|
|
How does my good Lord Hamlet?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Well, God-a-mercy.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Do you know me, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Not I, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Then I would you were so honest a man.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Honest, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ay, sir. To be honest, as this world goes, is to
|
|
be one man picked out of ten thousand.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS That's very true, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET For if the sun breed maggots in a dead
|
|
dog, being a good kissing carrion--Have you a
|
|
daughter?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS I have, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Let her not walk i' th' sun. Conception is a
|
|
blessing, but, as your daughter may conceive,
|
|
friend, look to 't.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS, [aside] How say you by that? Still harping on
|
|
my daughter. Yet he knew me not at first; he said I
|
|
was a fishmonger. He is far gone. And truly, in my
|
|
youth, I suffered much extremity for love, very near
|
|
this. I'll speak to him again.--What do you read, my
|
|
lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Words, words, words.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS What is the matter, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Between who?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS I mean the matter that you read, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Slanders, sir; for the satirical rogue says here
|
|
that old men have gray beards, that their faces are
|
|
wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and
|
|
plum-tree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of
|
|
wit, together with most weak hams; all which, sir,
|
|
though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I
|
|
hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for
|
|
yourself, sir, shall grow old as I am, if, like a crab,
|
|
you could go backward.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS, [aside] Though this be madness, yet there is
|
|
method in 't.--Will you walk out of the air, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Into my grave?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Indeed, that's out of the air. [Aside.] How
|
|
pregnant sometimes his replies are! A happiness
|
|
that often madness hits on, which reason and
|
|
sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I
|
|
will leave him and suddenly contrive the means of
|
|
meeting between him and my daughter.--My lord,
|
|
I will take my leave of you.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I
|
|
will more willingly part withal--except my life,
|
|
except my life, except my life.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Fare you well, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET, [aside] These tedious old fools.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Guildenstern and Rosencrantz.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS You go to seek the Lord Hamlet. There he is.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ, [to Polonius] God save you, sir.
|
|
[Polonius exits.]
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN My honored lord.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ My most dear lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET My excellent good friends! How dost thou,
|
|
Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do
|
|
you both?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
As the indifferent children of the earth.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN
|
|
Happy in that we are not overhappy.
|
|
On Fortune's cap, we are not the very button.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nor the soles of her shoe?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Neither, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Then you live about her waist, or in the
|
|
middle of her favors?
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN Faith, her privates we.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET In the secret parts of Fortune? O, most true!
|
|
She is a strumpet. What news?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ None, my lord, but that the world's
|
|
grown honest.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Then is doomsday near. But your news is not
|
|
true. Let me question more in particular. What
|
|
have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of
|
|
Fortune that she sends you to prison hither?
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN Prison, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Denmark's a prison.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Then is the world one.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET A goodly one, in which there are many confines,
|
|
wards, and dungeons, Denmark being one o'
|
|
th' worst.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ We think not so, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why, then, 'tis none to you, for there is
|
|
nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it
|
|
so. To me, it is a prison.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Why, then, your ambition makes it one.
|
|
'Tis too narrow for your mind.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and
|
|
count myself a king of infinite space, were it not
|
|
that I have bad dreams.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN Which dreams, indeed, are ambition,
|
|
for the very substance of the ambitious is merely
|
|
the shadow of a dream.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET A dream itself is but a shadow.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy
|
|
and light a quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs
|
|
and outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows.
|
|
Shall we to th' court? For, by my fay, I cannot
|
|
reason.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ/GUILDENSTERN We'll wait upon you.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET No such matter. I will not sort you with the
|
|
rest of my servants, for, to speak to you like an
|
|
honest man, I am most dreadfully attended. But,
|
|
in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at
|
|
Elsinore?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ To visit you, my lord, no other occasion.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks;
|
|
but I thank you, and sure, dear friends, my thanks
|
|
are too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for?
|
|
Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation?
|
|
Come, come, deal justly with me. Come, come; nay,
|
|
speak.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN What should we say, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Anything but to th' purpose. You were sent
|
|
for, and there is a kind of confession in your looks
|
|
which your modesties have not craft enough to
|
|
color. I know the good king and queen have sent for
|
|
you.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ To what end, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET That you must teach me. But let me conjure
|
|
you by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy
|
|
of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved
|
|
love, and by what more dear a better
|
|
proposer can charge you withal: be even and direct
|
|
with me whether you were sent for or no.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ, [to Guildenstern] What say you?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET, [aside] Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If
|
|
you love me, hold not off.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN My lord, we were sent for.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation
|
|
prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the
|
|
King and Queen molt no feather. I have of late, but
|
|
wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all
|
|
custom of exercises, and, indeed, it goes so heavily
|
|
with my disposition that this goodly frame, the
|
|
Earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most
|
|
excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging
|
|
firmament, this majestical roof, fretted
|
|
with golden fire--why, it appeareth nothing to me
|
|
but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors.
|
|
What a piece of work is a man, how noble in
|
|
reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving
|
|
how express and admirable; in action how like
|
|
an angel, in apprehension how like a god: the
|
|
beauty of the world, the paragon of animals--and
|
|
yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man
|
|
delights not me, no, nor women neither, though by
|
|
your smiling you seem to say so.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ My lord, there was no such stuff in my
|
|
thoughts.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why did you laugh, then, when I said "man
|
|
delights not me"?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ To think, my lord, if you delight not in
|
|
man, what Lenten entertainment the players shall
|
|
receive from you. We coted them on the way, and
|
|
hither are they coming to offer you service.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET He that plays the king shall be welcome--his
|
|
Majesty shall have tribute on me. The adventurous
|
|
knight shall use his foil and target, the lover shall
|
|
not sigh gratis, the humorous man shall end his
|
|
part in peace, the clown shall make those laugh
|
|
whose lungs are tickle o' th' sear, and the lady
|
|
shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall
|
|
halt for 't. What players are they?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Even those you were wont to take such
|
|
delight in, the tragedians of the city.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How chances it they travel? Their residence,
|
|
both in reputation and profit, was better both ways.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ I think their inhibition comes by the
|
|
means of the late innovation.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Do they hold the same estimation they did
|
|
when I was in the city? Are they so followed?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ No, indeed are they not.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How comes it? Do they grow rusty?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Nay, their endeavor keeps in the wonted
|
|
pace. But there is, sir, an aerie of children, little
|
|
eyases, that cry out on the top of question and are
|
|
most tyrannically clapped for 't. These are now the
|
|
fashion and so berattle the common stages (so
|
|
they call them) that many wearing rapiers are afraid
|
|
of goose quills and dare scarce come thither.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What, are they children? Who maintains 'em?
|
|
How are they escoted? Will they pursue the quality
|
|
no longer than they can sing? Will they not say
|
|
afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common
|
|
players (as it is most like, if their means are
|
|
no better), their writers do them wrong to make
|
|
them exclaim against their own succession?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Faith, there has been much to-do on
|
|
both sides, and the nation holds it no sin to tar
|
|
them to controversy. There was for a while no
|
|
money bid for argument unless the poet and the
|
|
player went to cuffs in the question.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Is 't possible?
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN O, there has been much throwing
|
|
about of brains.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Do the boys carry it away?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Ay, that they do, my lord--Hercules
|
|
and his load too.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET It is not very strange; for my uncle is King of
|
|
Denmark, and those that would make mouths at
|
|
him while my father lived give twenty, forty, fifty,
|
|
a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little.
|
|
'Sblood, there is something in this more than natural,
|
|
if philosophy could find it out.
|
|
[A flourish for the Players.]
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN There are the players.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore.
|
|
Your hands, come then. Th' appurtenance of welcome
|
|
is fashion and ceremony. Let me comply
|
|
with you in this garb, lest my extent to the players,
|
|
which, I tell you, must show fairly outwards, should
|
|
more appear like entertainment than yours. You are
|
|
welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are
|
|
deceived.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN In what, my dear lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I am but mad north-north-west. When the
|
|
wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Polonius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Well be with you, gentlemen.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Hark you, Guildenstern, and you too--at
|
|
each ear a hearer! That great baby you see there is
|
|
not yet out of his swaddling clouts.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Haply he is the second time come to
|
|
them, for they say an old man is twice a child.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the
|
|
players; mark it.--You say right, sir, a Monday
|
|
morning, 'twas then indeed.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS My lord, I have news to tell you.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET My lord, I have news to tell you: when Roscius
|
|
was an actor in Rome--
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS The actors are come hither, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Buzz, buzz.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Upon my honor--
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Then came each actor on his ass.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS The best actors in the world, either for
|
|
tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical,
|
|
historical-pastoral, tragical-historical,
|
|
tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or
|
|
poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor
|
|
Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty,
|
|
these are the only men.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure
|
|
hadst thou!
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS What a treasure had he, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why,
|
|
One fair daughter, and no more,
|
|
The which he loved passing well.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS, [aside] Still on my daughter.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Am I not i' th' right, old Jephthah?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS If you call me "Jephthah," my lord: I have a
|
|
daughter that I love passing well.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nay, that follows not.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS What follows then, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why,
|
|
As by lot, God wot
|
|
and then, you know,
|
|
It came to pass, as most like it was--
|
|
the first row of the pious chanson will show you
|
|
more, for look where my abridgment comes.
|
|
|
|
[Enter the Players.]
|
|
|
|
You are welcome, masters; welcome all.--I am glad
|
|
to see thee well.--Welcome, good friends.--O my
|
|
old friend! Why, thy face is valanced since I saw thee
|
|
last. Com'st thou to beard me in Denmark?--What,
|
|
my young lady and mistress! By 'r Lady, your Ladyship
|
|
is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by
|
|
the altitude of a chopine. Pray God your voice, like a
|
|
piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the
|
|
ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en to 't
|
|
like French falconers, fly at anything we see. We'll
|
|
have a speech straight. Come, give us a taste of your
|
|
quality. Come, a passionate speech.
|
|
|
|
FIRST PLAYER What speech, my good lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it
|
|
was never acted, or, if it was, not above once; for
|
|
the play, I remember, pleased not the million:
|
|
'twas caviary to the general. But it was (as I
|
|
received it, and others whose judgments in such
|
|
matters cried in the top of mine) an excellent play,
|
|
well digested in the scenes, set down with as much
|
|
modesty as cunning. I remember one said there
|
|
were no sallets in the lines to make the matter
|
|
savory, nor no matter in the phrase that might indict
|
|
the author of affection, but called it an honest
|
|
method, as wholesome as sweet and, by very much,
|
|
more handsome than fine. One speech in 't I
|
|
chiefly loved. 'Twas Aeneas' tale to Dido, and
|
|
thereabout of it especially when he speaks of
|
|
Priam's slaughter. If it live in your memory, begin at
|
|
this line--let me see, let me see:
|
|
The rugged Pyrrhus, like th' Hyrcanian beast--
|
|
'tis not so; it begins with Pyrrhus:
|
|
The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms,
|
|
Black as his purpose, did the night resemble
|
|
When he lay couched in th' ominous horse,
|
|
Hath now this dread and black complexion smeared
|
|
With heraldry more dismal. Head to foot,
|
|
Now is he total gules, horridly tricked
|
|
With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,
|
|
Baked and impasted with the parching streets,
|
|
That lend a tyrannous and a damned light
|
|
To their lord's murder. Roasted in wrath and fire,
|
|
And thus o'ersized with coagulate gore,
|
|
With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus
|
|
Old grandsire Priam seeks.
|
|
So, proceed you.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS 'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good
|
|
accent and good discretion.
|
|
|
|
FIRST PLAYER Anon he finds him
|
|
Striking too short at Greeks. His antique sword,
|
|
Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
|
|
Repugnant to command. Unequal matched,
|
|
Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes wide;
|
|
But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword
|
|
Th' unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,
|
|
Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top
|
|
Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash
|
|
Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear. For lo, his sword,
|
|
Which was declining on the milky head
|
|
Of reverend Priam, seemed i' th' air to stick.
|
|
So as a painted tyrant Pyrrhus stood
|
|
And, like a neutral to his will and matter,
|
|
Did nothing.
|
|
But as we often see against some storm
|
|
A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,
|
|
The bold winds speechless, and the orb below
|
|
As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder
|
|
Doth rend the region; so, after Pyrrhus' pause,
|
|
Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work,
|
|
And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
|
|
On Mars's armor, forged for proof eterne,
|
|
With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword
|
|
Now falls on Priam.
|
|
Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune! All you gods
|
|
In general synod take away her power,
|
|
Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,
|
|
And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven
|
|
As low as to the fiends!
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS This is too long.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET It shall to the barber's with your beard.--
|
|
Prithee say on. He's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or
|
|
he sleeps. Say on; come to Hecuba.
|
|
|
|
FIRST PLAYER
|
|
But who, ah woe, had seen the mobled queen--
|
|
|
|
HAMLET "The mobled queen"?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS That's good. "Mobled queen" is good.
|
|
|
|
FIRST PLAYER
|
|
Run barefoot up and down, threat'ning the flames
|
|
With bisson rheum, a clout upon that head
|
|
Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe,
|
|
About her lank and all o'erteemed loins
|
|
A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up--
|
|
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steeped,
|
|
'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have
|
|
pronounced.
|
|
But if the gods themselves did see her then
|
|
When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport
|
|
In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs,
|
|
The instant burst of clamor that she made
|
|
(Unless things mortal move them not at all)
|
|
Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven
|
|
And passion in the gods.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Look whe'er he has not turned his color and
|
|
has tears in 's eyes. Prithee, no more.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET 'Tis well. I'll have thee speak out the rest of
|
|
this soon.--Good my lord, will you see the players
|
|
well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used,
|
|
for they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the
|
|
time. After your death you were better have a bad
|
|
epitaph than their ill report while you live.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS My lord, I will use them according to their
|
|
desert.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET God's bodykins, man, much better! Use every
|
|
man after his desert and who shall 'scape
|
|
whipping? Use them after your own honor and
|
|
dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in
|
|
your bounty. Take them in.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Come, sirs.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Follow him, friends. We'll hear a play
|
|
tomorrow. [As Polonius and Players exit, Hamlet speaks to
|
|
the First Player.] Dost thou hear me, old friend? Can
|
|
you play "The Murder of Gonzago"?
|
|
|
|
FIRST PLAYER Ay, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET We'll ha 't tomorrow night. You could, for a
|
|
need, study a speech of some dozen or sixteen
|
|
lines, which I would set down and insert in 't,
|
|
could you not?
|
|
|
|
FIRST PLAYER Ay, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Very well. Follow that lord--and look you
|
|
mock him not. [First Player exits.] My good friends,
|
|
I'll leave you till night. You are welcome to Elsinore.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Good my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Ay, so, good-bye to you.
|
|
[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit.]
|
|
Now I am alone.
|
|
O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
|
|
Is it not monstrous that this player here,
|
|
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
|
|
Could force his soul so to his own conceit
|
|
That from her working all his visage wanned,
|
|
Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect,
|
|
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
|
|
With forms to his conceit--and all for nothing!
|
|
For Hecuba!
|
|
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
|
|
That he should weep for her? What would he do
|
|
Had he the motive and the cue for passion
|
|
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears
|
|
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,
|
|
Make mad the guilty and appall the free,
|
|
Confound the ignorant and amaze indeed
|
|
The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,
|
|
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak
|
|
Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,
|
|
And can say nothing--no, not for a king
|
|
Upon whose property and most dear life
|
|
A damned defeat was made. Am I a coward?
|
|
Who calls me "villain"? breaks my pate across?
|
|
Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face?
|
|
Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' th' throat
|
|
As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this?
|
|
Ha! 'Swounds, I should take it! For it cannot be
|
|
But I am pigeon-livered and lack gall
|
|
To make oppression bitter, or ere this
|
|
I should have fatted all the region kites
|
|
With this slave's offal. Bloody, bawdy villain!
|
|
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless
|
|
villain!
|
|
O vengeance!
|
|
Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,
|
|
That I, the son of a dear father murdered,
|
|
Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,
|
|
Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words
|
|
And fall a-cursing like a very drab,
|
|
A stallion! Fie upon 't! Foh!
|
|
About, my brains!--Hum, I have heard
|
|
That guilty creatures sitting at a play
|
|
Have, by the very cunning of the scene,
|
|
Been struck so to the soul that presently
|
|
They have proclaimed their malefactions;
|
|
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
|
|
With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players
|
|
Play something like the murder of my father
|
|
Before mine uncle. I'll observe his looks;
|
|
I'll tent him to the quick. If he do blench,
|
|
I know my course. The spirit that I have seen
|
|
May be a devil, and the devil hath power
|
|
T' assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps,
|
|
Out of my weakness and my melancholy,
|
|
As he is very potent with such spirits,
|
|
Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds
|
|
More relative than this. The play's the thing
|
|
Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 3
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz,
|
|
Guildenstern, and Lords.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
And can you by no drift of conference
|
|
Get from him why he puts on this confusion,
|
|
Grating so harshly all his days of quiet
|
|
With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
He does confess he feels himself distracted,
|
|
But from what cause he will by no means speak.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN
|
|
Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
|
|
But with a crafty madness keeps aloof
|
|
When we would bring him on to some confession
|
|
Of his true state.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Did he receive you well?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Most like a gentleman.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN
|
|
But with much forcing of his disposition.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
Niggard of question, but of our demands
|
|
Most free in his reply.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Did you assay him to any pastime?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
Madam, it so fell out that certain players
|
|
We o'erraught on the way. Of these we told him,
|
|
And there did seem in him a kind of joy
|
|
To hear of it. They are here about the court,
|
|
And, as I think, they have already order
|
|
This night to play before him.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS 'Tis most true,
|
|
And he beseeched me to entreat your Majesties
|
|
To hear and see the matter.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
With all my heart, and it doth much content me
|
|
To hear him so inclined.
|
|
Good gentlemen, give him a further edge
|
|
And drive his purpose into these delights.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
We shall, my lord. [Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
|
|
and Lords exit.]
|
|
|
|
KING Sweet Gertrude, leave us too,
|
|
For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,
|
|
That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
|
|
Affront Ophelia.
|
|
Her father and myself, lawful espials,
|
|
Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing unseen,
|
|
We may of their encounter frankly judge
|
|
And gather by him, as he is behaved,
|
|
If 't be th' affliction of his love or no
|
|
That thus he suffers for.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN I shall obey you.
|
|
And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish
|
|
That your good beauties be the happy cause
|
|
Of Hamlet's wildness. So shall I hope your virtues
|
|
Will bring him to his wonted way again,
|
|
To both your honors.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Madam, I wish it may.
|
|
[Queen exits.]
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
Ophelia, walk you here.--Gracious, so please you,
|
|
We will bestow ourselves. [To Ophelia.] Read on this
|
|
book,
|
|
That show of such an exercise may color
|
|
Your loneliness.--We are oft to blame in this
|
|
('Tis too much proved), that with devotion's visage
|
|
And pious action we do sugar o'er
|
|
The devil himself.
|
|
|
|
KING, [aside] O, 'tis too true!
|
|
How smart a lash that speech doth give my
|
|
conscience.
|
|
The harlot's cheek beautied with plast'ring art
|
|
Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it
|
|
Than is my deed to my most painted word.
|
|
O heavy burden!
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
I hear him coming. Let's withdraw, my lord.
|
|
[They withdraw.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Hamlet.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
To be or not to be--that is the question:
|
|
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
|
|
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
|
|
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
|
|
And, by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep--
|
|
No more--and by a sleep to say we end
|
|
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
|
|
That flesh is heir to--'tis a consummation
|
|
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--
|
|
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub,
|
|
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
|
|
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
|
|
Must give us pause. There's the respect
|
|
That makes calamity of so long life.
|
|
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
|
|
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
|
|
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
|
|
The insolence of office, and the spurns
|
|
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
|
|
When he himself might his quietus make
|
|
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
|
|
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
|
|
But that the dread of something after death,
|
|
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
|
|
No traveler returns, puzzles the will
|
|
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
|
|
Than fly to others that we know not of?
|
|
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
|
|
And thus the native hue of resolution
|
|
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
|
|
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
|
|
With this regard their currents turn awry
|
|
And lose the name of action.--Soft you now,
|
|
The fair Ophelia.--Nymph, in thy orisons
|
|
Be all my sins remembered.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Good my lord,
|
|
How does your Honor for this many a day?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I humbly thank you, well.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
My lord, I have remembrances of yours
|
|
That I have longed long to redeliver.
|
|
I pray you now receive them.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
No, not I. I never gave you aught.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
My honored lord, you know right well you did,
|
|
And with them words of so sweet breath composed
|
|
As made the things more rich. Their perfume
|
|
lost,
|
|
Take these again, for to the noble mind
|
|
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
|
|
There, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ha, ha, are you honest?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA My lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Are you fair?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA What means your Lordship?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET That if you be honest and fair, your honesty
|
|
should admit no discourse to your beauty.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce
|
|
than with honesty?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ay, truly, for the power of beauty will sooner
|
|
transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than
|
|
the force of honesty can translate beauty into his
|
|
likeness. This was sometime a paradox, but now
|
|
the time gives it proof. I did love you once.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET You should not have believed me, for virtue
|
|
cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall
|
|
relish of it. I loved you not.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA I was the more deceived.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be
|
|
a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest,
|
|
but yet I could accuse me of such things that it
|
|
were better my mother had not borne me: I am
|
|
very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offenses
|
|
at my beck than I have thoughts to put them
|
|
in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act
|
|
them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling
|
|
between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves
|
|
all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.
|
|
Where's your father?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA At home, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Let the doors be shut upon him that he may
|
|
play the fool nowhere but in 's own house. Farewell.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA O, help him, you sweet heavens!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague
|
|
for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as
|
|
snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a
|
|
nunnery, farewell. Or if thou wilt needs marry,
|
|
marry a fool, for wise men know well enough what
|
|
monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go, and
|
|
quickly too. Farewell.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Heavenly powers, restore him!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I have heard of your paintings too, well
|
|
enough. God hath given you one face, and you
|
|
make yourselves another. You jig and amble, and
|
|
you lisp; you nickname God's creatures and make
|
|
your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I'll no
|
|
more on 't. It hath made me mad. I say we will have
|
|
no more marriage. Those that are married already,
|
|
all but one, shall live. The rest shall keep as they are.
|
|
To a nunnery, go. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
|
|
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue,
|
|
sword,
|
|
Th' expectancy and rose of the fair state,
|
|
The glass of fashion and the mold of form,
|
|
Th' observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
|
|
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
|
|
That sucked the honey of his musicked vows,
|
|
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
|
|
Like sweet bells jangled, out of time and harsh;
|
|
That unmatched form and stature of blown youth
|
|
Blasted with ecstasy. O, woe is me
|
|
T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
|
|
|
|
KING, [advancing with Polonius]
|
|
Love? His affections do not that way tend;
|
|
Nor what he spake, though it lacked form a little,
|
|
Was not like madness. There's something in his soul
|
|
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood,
|
|
And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose
|
|
Will be some danger; which for to prevent,
|
|
I have in quick determination
|
|
Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England
|
|
For the demand of our neglected tribute.
|
|
Haply the seas, and countries different,
|
|
With variable objects, shall expel
|
|
This something-settled matter in his heart,
|
|
Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus
|
|
From fashion of himself. What think you on 't?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
It shall do well. But yet do I believe
|
|
The origin and commencement of his grief
|
|
Sprung from neglected love.--How now, Ophelia?
|
|
You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said;
|
|
We heard it all.--My lord, do as you please,
|
|
But, if you hold it fit, after the play
|
|
Let his queen-mother all alone entreat him
|
|
To show his grief. Let her be round with him;
|
|
And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear
|
|
Of all their conference. If she find him not,
|
|
To England send him, or confine him where
|
|
Your wisdom best shall think.
|
|
|
|
KING It shall be so.
|
|
Madness in great ones must not unwatched go.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Hamlet and three of the Players.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced
|
|
it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth
|
|
it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the
|
|
town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air
|
|
too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently;
|
|
for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say,
|
|
whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and
|
|
beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O,
|
|
it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious,
|
|
periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very
|
|
rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the
|
|
most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable
|
|
dumb shows and noise. I would have such a fellow
|
|
whipped for o'erdoing Termagant. It out-Herods
|
|
Herod. Pray you, avoid it.
|
|
|
|
PLAYER I warrant your Honor.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Be not too tame neither, but let your own
|
|
discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the
|
|
word, the word to the action, with this special
|
|
observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of
|
|
nature. For anything so o'erdone is from the purpose
|
|
of playing, whose end, both at the first and
|
|
now, was and is to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to
|
|
nature, to show virtue her own feature, scorn her
|
|
own image, and the very age and body of the time
|
|
his form and pressure. Now this overdone or come
|
|
tardy off, though it makes the unskillful laugh,
|
|
cannot but make the judicious grieve, the censure
|
|
of the which one must in your allowance o'erweigh
|
|
a whole theater of others. O, there be players that I
|
|
have seen play and heard others praise (and that
|
|
highly), not to speak it profanely, that, neither
|
|
having th' accent of Christians nor the gait of
|
|
Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and
|
|
bellowed that I have thought some of nature's
|
|
journeymen had made men, and not made them
|
|
well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
|
|
|
|
PLAYER I hope we have reformed that indifferently
|
|
with us, sir.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O, reform it altogether. And let those that play
|
|
your clowns speak no more than is set down for
|
|
them, for there be of them that will themselves
|
|
laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators
|
|
to laugh too, though in the meantime some necessary
|
|
question of the play be then to be considered.
|
|
That's villainous and shows a most pitiful ambition
|
|
in the fool that uses it. Go make you ready.
|
|
[Players exit.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Polonius, Guildenstern, and Rosencrantz.]
|
|
|
|
How now, my lord, will the King hear this piece of
|
|
work?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS And the Queen too, and that presently.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Bid the players make haste. [Polonius exits.]
|
|
Will you two help to hasten them?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Ay, my lord. [They exit.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What ho, Horatio!
|
|
|
|
[Enter Horatio.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Here, sweet lord, at your service.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man
|
|
As e'er my conversation coped withal.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
O, my dear lord--
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nay, do not think I flatter,
|
|
For what advancement may I hope from thee
|
|
That no revenue hast but thy good spirits
|
|
To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be
|
|
flattered?
|
|
No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp
|
|
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee
|
|
Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?
|
|
Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice
|
|
And could of men distinguish, her election
|
|
Hath sealed thee for herself. For thou hast been
|
|
As one in suffering all that suffers nothing,
|
|
A man that Fortune's buffets and rewards
|
|
Hast ta'en with equal thanks; and blessed are those
|
|
Whose blood and judgment are so well
|
|
commeddled
|
|
That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger
|
|
To sound what stop she please. Give me that man
|
|
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
|
|
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
|
|
As I do thee.--Something too much of this.--
|
|
There is a play tonight before the King.
|
|
One scene of it comes near the circumstance
|
|
Which I have told thee of my father's death.
|
|
I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,
|
|
Even with the very comment of thy soul
|
|
Observe my uncle. If his occulted guilt
|
|
Do not itself unkennel in one speech,
|
|
It is a damned ghost that we have seen,
|
|
And my imaginations are as foul
|
|
As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note,
|
|
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,
|
|
And, after, we will both our judgments join
|
|
In censure of his seeming.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Well, my lord.
|
|
If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing
|
|
And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft.
|
|
[Sound a flourish.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET They are coming to the play. I must be idle.
|
|
Get you a place.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Trumpets and Kettle Drums. Enter King, Queen,
|
|
Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and other
|
|
Lords attendant with the King's guard carrying
|
|
torches.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
KING How fares our cousin Hamlet?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Excellent, i' faith, of the chameleon's dish. I
|
|
eat the air, promise-crammed. You cannot feed
|
|
capons so.
|
|
|
|
KING I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet. These
|
|
words are not mine.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET No, nor mine now. [To Polonius.] My lord, you
|
|
played once i' th' university, you say?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS That did I, my lord, and was accounted a
|
|
good actor.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What did you enact?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS I did enact Julius Caesar. I was killed i' th'
|
|
Capitol. Brutus killed me.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a
|
|
calf there.--Be the players ready?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Ay, my lord. They stay upon your
|
|
patience.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET No, good mother. Here's metal more
|
|
attractive. [Hamlet takes a place near Ophelia.]
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS, [to the King] Oh, ho! Do you mark that?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA No, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I mean, my head upon your lap?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Ay, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Do you think I meant country matters?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA I think nothing, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET That's a fair thought to lie between maids'
|
|
legs.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA What is, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nothing.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA You are merry, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Who, I?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Ay, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O God, your only jig-maker. What should a
|
|
man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully
|
|
my mother looks, and my father died within 's two
|
|
hours.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET So long? Nay, then, let the devil wear black,
|
|
for I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens, die two
|
|
months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's
|
|
hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half
|
|
a year. But, by 'r Lady, he must build churches, then,
|
|
or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with the
|
|
hobby-horse, whose epitaph is "For oh, for oh, the
|
|
hobby-horse is forgot."
|
|
[The trumpets sounds. Dumb show follows.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter a King and a Queen, very lovingly, the Queen
|
|
embracing him and he her. She kneels and makes show of
|
|
protestation unto him. He takes her up and declines his
|
|
head upon her neck. He lies him down upon a bank of
|
|
flowers. She, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon
|
|
comes in another man, takes off his crown, kisses it, pours
|
|
poison in the sleeper's ears, and leaves him. The Queen
|
|
returns, finds the King dead, makes passionate action. The
|
|
poisoner with some three or four come in again, seem to
|
|
condole with her. The dead body is carried away. The
|
|
poisoner woos the Queen with gifts. She seems harsh
|
|
awhile but in the end accepts his love.]
|
|
[Players exit.]
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA What means this, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Marry, this is miching mallecho. It means
|
|
mischief.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Belike this show imports the argument of the
|
|
play.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Prologue.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET We shall know by this fellow. The players
|
|
cannot keep counsel; they'll tell all.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Will he tell us what this show meant?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ay, or any show that you will show him. Be
|
|
not you ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you
|
|
what it means.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA You are naught, you are naught. I'll mark the
|
|
play.
|
|
|
|
PROLOGUE
|
|
For us and for our tragedy,
|
|
Here stooping to your clemency,
|
|
We beg your hearing patiently. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Is this a prologue or the posy of a ring?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA 'Tis brief, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET As woman's love.
|
|
|
|
[Enter the Player King and Queen.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
PLAYER KING
|
|
Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round
|
|
Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground,
|
|
And thirty dozen moons with borrowed sheen
|
|
About the world have times twelve thirties been
|
|
Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands
|
|
Unite commutual in most sacred bands.
|
|
|
|
PLAYER QUEEN
|
|
So many journeys may the sun and moon
|
|
Make us again count o'er ere love be done!
|
|
But woe is me! You are so sick of late,
|
|
So far from cheer and from your former state,
|
|
That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,
|
|
Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must.
|
|
For women fear too much, even as they love,
|
|
And women's fear and love hold quantity,
|
|
In neither aught, or in extremity.
|
|
Now what my love is, proof hath made you know,
|
|
And, as my love is sized, my fear is so:
|
|
Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;
|
|
Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
|
|
|
|
PLAYER KING
|
|
Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too.
|
|
My operant powers their functions leave to do.
|
|
And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
|
|
Honored, beloved; and haply one as kind
|
|
For husband shalt thou--
|
|
|
|
PLAYER QUEEN O, confound the rest!
|
|
Such love must needs be treason in my breast.
|
|
In second husband let me be accurst.
|
|
None wed the second but who killed the first.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET That's wormwood!
|
|
|
|
PLAYER QUEEN
|
|
The instances that second marriage move
|
|
Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.
|
|
A second time I kill my husband dead
|
|
When second husband kisses me in bed.
|
|
|
|
PLAYER KING
|
|
I do believe you think what now you speak,
|
|
But what we do determine oft we break.
|
|
Purpose is but the slave to memory,
|
|
Of violent birth, but poor validity,
|
|
Which now, the fruit unripe, sticks on the tree
|
|
But fall unshaken when they mellow be.
|
|
Most necessary 'tis that we forget
|
|
To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt.
|
|
What to ourselves in passion we propose,
|
|
The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
|
|
The violence of either grief or joy
|
|
Their own enactures with themselves destroy.
|
|
Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
|
|
Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.
|
|
This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange
|
|
That even our loves should with our fortunes change;
|
|
For 'tis a question left us yet to prove
|
|
Whether love lead fortune or else fortune love.
|
|
The great man down, you mark his favorite flies;
|
|
The poor, advanced, makes friends of enemies.
|
|
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend,
|
|
For who not needs shall never lack a friend,
|
|
And who in want a hollow friend doth try
|
|
Directly seasons him his enemy.
|
|
But, orderly to end where I begun:
|
|
Our wills and fates do so contrary run
|
|
That our devices still are overthrown;
|
|
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
|
|
So think thou wilt no second husband wed,
|
|
But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.
|
|
|
|
PLAYER QUEEN
|
|
Nor Earth to me give food, nor heaven light,
|
|
Sport and repose lock from me day and night,
|
|
To desperation turn my trust and hope,
|
|
An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope.
|
|
Each opposite that blanks the face of joy
|
|
Meet what I would have well and it destroy.
|
|
Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,
|
|
If, once a widow, ever I be wife.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET If she should break it now!
|
|
|
|
PLAYER KING
|
|
'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile.
|
|
My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile
|
|
The tedious day with sleep. [Sleeps.]
|
|
|
|
PLAYER QUEEN Sleep rock thy brain,
|
|
And never come mischance between us twain.
|
|
[Player Queen exits.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Madam, how like you this play?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O, but she'll keep her word.
|
|
|
|
KING Have you heard the argument? Is there no
|
|
offense in 't?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest. No
|
|
offense i' th' world.
|
|
|
|
KING What do you call the play?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET "The Mousetrap." Marry, how? Tropically.
|
|
This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna.
|
|
Gonzago is the duke's name, his wife Baptista. You
|
|
shall see anon. 'Tis a knavish piece of work, but
|
|
what of that? Your Majesty and we that have free
|
|
souls, it touches us not. Let the galled jade wince;
|
|
our withers are unwrung.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Lucianus.]
|
|
|
|
This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I could interpret between you and your love,
|
|
if I could see the puppets dallying.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA You are keen, my lord, you are keen.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET It would cost you a groaning to take off mine
|
|
edge.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Still better and worse.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET So you mis-take your husbands.--Begin,
|
|
murderer. Pox, leave thy damnable faces and
|
|
begin. Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for
|
|
revenge.
|
|
|
|
LUCIANUS
|
|
Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time
|
|
agreeing,
|
|
Confederate season, else no creature seeing,
|
|
Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,
|
|
With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
|
|
Thy natural magic and dire property
|
|
On wholesome life usurp immediately.
|
|
[Pours the poison in his ears.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET He poisons him i' th' garden for his estate. His
|
|
name's Gonzago. The story is extant and written in
|
|
very choice Italian. You shall see anon how the
|
|
murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife.
|
|
[Claudius rises.]
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA The King rises.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What, frighted with false fire?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN How fares my lord?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Give o'er the play.
|
|
|
|
KING Give me some light. Away!
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Lights, lights, lights!
|
|
[All but Hamlet and Horatio exit.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Why, let the strucken deer go weep,
|
|
The hart ungalled play.
|
|
For some must watch, while some must sleep:
|
|
Thus runs the world away.
|
|
Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers (if the
|
|
rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me) with two
|
|
Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a
|
|
fellowship in a cry of players?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Half a share.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET A whole one, I.
|
|
For thou dost know, O Damon dear,
|
|
This realm dismantled was
|
|
Of Jove himself, and now reigns here
|
|
A very very--pajock.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO You might have rhymed.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for
|
|
a thousand pound. Didst perceive?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Very well, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Upon the talk of the poisoning?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO I did very well note him.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ah ha! Come, some music! Come, the
|
|
recorders!
|
|
For if the King like not the comedy,
|
|
Why, then, belike he likes it not, perdy.
|
|
Come, some music!
|
|
|
|
[Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word
|
|
with you.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Sir, a whole history.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN The King, sir--
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ay, sir, what of him?
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN Is in his retirement marvelous
|
|
distempered.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET With drink, sir?
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN No, my lord, with choler.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Your wisdom should show itself more richer
|
|
to signify this to the doctor, for for me to put him to
|
|
his purgation would perhaps plunge him into more
|
|
choler.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN Good my lord, put your discourse into
|
|
some frame and start not so wildly from my
|
|
affair.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I am tame, sir. Pronounce.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN The Queen your mother, in most great
|
|
affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET You are welcome.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not
|
|
of the right breed. If it shall please you to make me
|
|
a wholesome answer, I will do your mother's
|
|
commandment. If not, your pardon and my return
|
|
shall be the end of my business.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Sir, I cannot.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ What, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Make you a wholesome answer. My wit's
|
|
diseased. But, sir, such answer as I can make, you
|
|
shall command--or, rather, as you say, my mother.
|
|
Therefore no more but to the matter. My mother,
|
|
you say--
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Then thus she says: your behavior hath
|
|
struck her into amazement and admiration.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET O wonderful son that can so 'stonish a mother!
|
|
But is there no sequel at the heels of this
|
|
mother's admiration? Impart.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ She desires to speak with you in her
|
|
closet ere you go to bed.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET We shall obey, were she ten times our mother.
|
|
Have you any further trade with us?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ My lord, you once did love me.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET And do still, by these pickers and stealers.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Good my lord, what is your cause of
|
|
distemper? You do surely bar the door upon your
|
|
own liberty if you deny your griefs to your friend.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Sir, I lack advancement.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ How can that be, when you have the
|
|
voice of the King himself for your succession in
|
|
Denmark?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ay, sir, but "While the grass grows"--the
|
|
proverb is something musty.
|
|
|
|
[Enter the Players with recorders.]
|
|
|
|
O, the recorders! Let me see one. [He takes a
|
|
recorder and turns to Guildenstern.] To withdraw
|
|
with you: why do you go about to recover the wind
|
|
of me, as if you would drive me into a toil?
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my
|
|
love is too unmannerly.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I do not well understand that. Will you play
|
|
upon this pipe?
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN My lord, I cannot.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I pray you.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN Believe me, I cannot.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I do beseech you.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN I know no touch of it, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET It is as easy as lying. Govern these ventages
|
|
with your fingers and thumb, give it breath with
|
|
your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent
|
|
music. Look you, these are the stops.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN But these cannot I command to any
|
|
utt'rance of harmony. I have not the skill.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing
|
|
you make of me! You would play upon me, you
|
|
would seem to know my stops, you would pluck
|
|
out the heart of my mystery, you would sound me
|
|
from my lowest note to the top of my compass;
|
|
and there is much music, excellent voice, in this
|
|
little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood,
|
|
do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?
|
|
Call me what instrument you will, though you can
|
|
fret me, you cannot play upon me.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Polonius.]
|
|
|
|
God bless you, sir.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS My lord, the Queen would speak with you,
|
|
and presently.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in
|
|
shape of a camel?
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS By th' Mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Methinks it is like a weasel.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS It is backed like a weasel.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Or like a whale.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS Very like a whale.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Then I will come to my mother by and by.
|
|
[Aside.] They fool me to the top of my bent.--I will
|
|
come by and by.
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS I will say so.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET "By and by" is easily said. Leave me,
|
|
friends.
|
|
[All but Hamlet exit.]
|
|
'Tis now the very witching time of night,
|
|
When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes
|
|
out
|
|
Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot
|
|
blood
|
|
And do such bitter business as the day
|
|
Would quake to look on. Soft, now to my mother.
|
|
O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever
|
|
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom.
|
|
Let me be cruel, not unnatural.
|
|
I will speak daggers to her, but use none.
|
|
My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites:
|
|
How in my words somever she be shent,
|
|
To give them seals never, my soul, consent.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter King, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
I like him not, nor stands it safe with us
|
|
To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you.
|
|
I your commission will forthwith dispatch,
|
|
And he to England shall along with you.
|
|
The terms of our estate may not endure
|
|
Hazard so near 's as doth hourly grow
|
|
Out of his brows.
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN We will ourselves provide.
|
|
Most holy and religious fear it is
|
|
To keep those many many bodies safe
|
|
That live and feed upon your Majesty.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
The single and peculiar life is bound
|
|
With all the strength and armor of the mind
|
|
To keep itself from noyance, but much more
|
|
That spirit upon whose weal depends and rests
|
|
The lives of many. The cess of majesty
|
|
Dies not alone, but like a gulf doth draw
|
|
What's near it with it; or it is a massy wheel
|
|
Fixed on the summit of the highest mount,
|
|
To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things
|
|
Are mortised and adjoined, which, when it falls,
|
|
Each small annexment, petty consequence,
|
|
Attends the boist'rous ruin. Never alone
|
|
Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage,
|
|
For we will fetters put about this fear,
|
|
Which now goes too free-footed.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ We will haste us.
|
|
[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Polonius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
My lord, he's going to his mother's closet.
|
|
Behind the arras I'll convey myself
|
|
To hear the process. I'll warrant she'll tax him
|
|
home;
|
|
And, as you said (and wisely was it said),
|
|
'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,
|
|
Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear
|
|
The speech of vantage. Fare you well, my liege.
|
|
I'll call upon you ere you go to bed
|
|
And tell you what I know.
|
|
|
|
KING Thanks, dear my lord.
|
|
[Polonius exits.]
|
|
O, my offense is rank, it smells to heaven;
|
|
It hath the primal eldest curse upon 't,
|
|
A brother's murder. Pray can I not,
|
|
Though inclination be as sharp as will.
|
|
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent,
|
|
And, like a man to double business bound,
|
|
I stand in pause where I shall first begin
|
|
And both neglect. What if this cursed hand
|
|
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood?
|
|
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
|
|
To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy
|
|
But to confront the visage of offense?
|
|
And what's in prayer but this twofold force,
|
|
To be forestalled ere we come to fall,
|
|
Or pardoned being down? Then I'll look up.
|
|
My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer
|
|
Can serve my turn? "Forgive me my foul murder"?
|
|
That cannot be, since I am still possessed
|
|
Of those effects for which I did the murder:
|
|
My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.
|
|
May one be pardoned and retain th' offense?
|
|
In the corrupted currents of this world,
|
|
Offense's gilded hand may shove by justice,
|
|
And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself
|
|
Buys out the law. But 'tis not so above:
|
|
There is no shuffling; there the action lies
|
|
In his true nature, and we ourselves compelled,
|
|
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
|
|
To give in evidence. What then? What rests?
|
|
Try what repentance can. What can it not?
|
|
Yet what can it, when one cannot repent?
|
|
O wretched state! O bosom black as death!
|
|
O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,
|
|
Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay.
|
|
Bow, stubborn knees, and heart with strings of steel
|
|
Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe.
|
|
All may be well. [He kneels.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Hamlet.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Now might I do it pat, now he is a-praying,
|
|
And now I'll do 't. [He draws his sword.]
|
|
And so he goes to heaven,
|
|
And so am I revenged. That would be scanned:
|
|
A villain kills my father, and for that,
|
|
I, his sole son, do this same villain send
|
|
To heaven.
|
|
Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge.
|
|
He took my father grossly, full of bread,
|
|
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;
|
|
And how his audit stands who knows save heaven.
|
|
But in our circumstance and course of thought
|
|
'Tis heavy with him. And am I then revenged
|
|
To take him in the purging of his soul,
|
|
When he is fit and seasoned for his passage?
|
|
No.
|
|
Up sword, and know thou a more horrid hent.
|
|
[He sheathes his sword.]
|
|
When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage,
|
|
Or in th' incestuous pleasure of his bed,
|
|
At game, a-swearing, or about some act
|
|
That has no relish of salvation in 't--
|
|
Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,
|
|
And that his soul may be as damned and black
|
|
As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays.
|
|
This physic but prolongs thy sickly days.
|
|
[Hamlet exits.]
|
|
|
|
KING, [rising]
|
|
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below;
|
|
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 4
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Queen and Polonius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS
|
|
He will come straight. Look you lay home to him.
|
|
Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear
|
|
with
|
|
And that your Grace hath screened and stood
|
|
between
|
|
Much heat and him. I'll silence me even here.
|
|
Pray you, be round with him.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET, [within] Mother, mother, mother!
|
|
|
|
QUEEN I'll warrant you. Fear me not. Withdraw,
|
|
I hear him coming.
|
|
[Polonius hides behind the arras.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Hamlet.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Now, mother, what's the matter?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Mother, you have my father much offended.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Why, how now, Hamlet?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What's the matter now?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Have you forgot me?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET No, by the rood, not so.
|
|
You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife,
|
|
And (would it were not so) you are my mother.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Nay, then I'll set those to you that can speak.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge.
|
|
You go not till I set you up a glass
|
|
Where you may see the inmost part of you.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murder me?
|
|
Help, ho!
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS, [behind the arras] What ho! Help!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
How now, a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead.
|
|
[He kills Polonius by thrusting a rapier
|
|
through the arras.]
|
|
|
|
POLONIUS, [behind the arras]
|
|
O, I am slain!
|
|
|
|
QUEEN O me, what hast thou done?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nay, I know not. Is it the King?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
A bloody deed--almost as bad, good mother,
|
|
As kill a king and marry with his brother.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
As kill a king?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ay, lady, it was my word.
|
|
[He pulls Polonius' body from behind the arras.]
|
|
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell.
|
|
I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune.
|
|
Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.
|
|
[To Queen.] Leave wringing of your hands. Peace, sit
|
|
you down,
|
|
And let me wring your heart; for so I shall
|
|
If it be made of penetrable stuff,
|
|
If damned custom have not brazed it so
|
|
That it be proof and bulwark against sense.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
What have I done, that thou dar'st wag thy tongue
|
|
In noise so rude against me?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Such an act
|
|
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty,
|
|
Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose
|
|
From the fair forehead of an innocent love
|
|
And sets a blister there, makes marriage vows
|
|
As false as dicers' oaths--O, such a deed
|
|
As from the body of contraction plucks
|
|
The very soul, and sweet religion makes
|
|
A rhapsody of words! Heaven's face does glow
|
|
O'er this solidity and compound mass
|
|
With heated visage, as against the doom,
|
|
Is thought-sick at the act.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Ay me, what act
|
|
That roars so loud and thunders in the index?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Look here upon this picture and on this,
|
|
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.
|
|
See what a grace was seated on this brow,
|
|
Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself,
|
|
An eye like Mars' to threaten and command,
|
|
A station like the herald Mercury
|
|
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill,
|
|
A combination and a form indeed
|
|
Where every god did seem to set his seal
|
|
To give the world assurance of a man.
|
|
This was your husband. Look you now what follows.
|
|
Here is your husband, like a mildewed ear
|
|
Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?
|
|
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed
|
|
And batten on this moor? Ha! Have you eyes?
|
|
You cannot call it love, for at your age
|
|
The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble
|
|
And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment
|
|
Would step from this to this? Sense sure you have,
|
|
Else could you not have motion; but sure that sense
|
|
Is apoplexed; for madness would not err,
|
|
Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thralled,
|
|
But it reserved some quantity of choice
|
|
To serve in such a difference. What devil was 't
|
|
That thus hath cozened you at hoodman-blind?
|
|
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
|
|
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,
|
|
Or but a sickly part of one true sense
|
|
Could not so mope. O shame, where is thy blush?
|
|
Rebellious hell,
|
|
If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,
|
|
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax
|
|
And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame
|
|
When the compulsive ardor gives the charge,
|
|
Since frost itself as actively doth burn,
|
|
And reason panders will.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN O Hamlet, speak no more!
|
|
Thou turn'st my eyes into my very soul,
|
|
And there I see such black and grained spots
|
|
As will not leave their tinct.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nay, but to live
|
|
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,
|
|
Stewed in corruption, honeying and making love
|
|
Over the nasty sty!
|
|
|
|
QUEEN O, speak to me no more!
|
|
These words like daggers enter in my ears.
|
|
No more, sweet Hamlet!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET A murderer and a villain,
|
|
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
|
|
Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings,
|
|
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
|
|
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole
|
|
And put it in his pocket--
|
|
|
|
QUEEN No more!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET A king of shreds and patches--
|
|
|
|
[Enter Ghost.]
|
|
|
|
Save me and hover o'er me with your wings,
|
|
You heavenly guards!--What would your gracious
|
|
figure?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Alas, he's mad.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
|
|
That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by
|
|
Th' important acting of your dread command?
|
|
O, say!
|
|
|
|
GHOST Do not forget. This visitation
|
|
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
|
|
But look, amazement on thy mother sits.
|
|
O, step between her and her fighting soul.
|
|
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.
|
|
Speak to her, Hamlet.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How is it with you, lady?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Alas, how is 't with you,
|
|
That you do bend your eye on vacancy
|
|
And with th' incorporal air do hold discourse?
|
|
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep,
|
|
And, as the sleeping soldiers in th' alarm,
|
|
Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,
|
|
Start up and stand an end. O gentle son,
|
|
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
|
|
Sprinkle cool patience! Whereon do you look?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
On him, on him! Look you how pale he glares.
|
|
His form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones,
|
|
Would make them capable. [To the Ghost.] Do not
|
|
look upon me,
|
|
Lest with this piteous action you convert
|
|
My stern effects. Then what I have to do
|
|
Will want true color--tears perchance for blood.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN To whom do you speak this?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Do you see nothing there?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nor did you nothing hear?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN No, nothing but ourselves.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Why, look you there, look how it steals away!
|
|
My father, in his habit as he lived!
|
|
Look where he goes even now out at the portal!
|
|
[Ghost exits.]
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
This is the very coinage of your brain.
|
|
This bodiless creation ecstasy
|
|
Is very cunning in.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ecstasy?
|
|
My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time
|
|
And makes as healthful music. It is not madness
|
|
That I have uttered. Bring me to the test,
|
|
And I the matter will reword, which madness
|
|
Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,
|
|
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul
|
|
That not your trespass but my madness speaks.
|
|
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
|
|
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
|
|
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven,
|
|
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come,
|
|
And do not spread the compost on the weeds
|
|
To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue,
|
|
For, in the fatness of these pursy times,
|
|
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg,
|
|
Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
O, throw away the worser part of it,
|
|
And live the purer with the other half!
|
|
Good night. But go not to my uncle's bed.
|
|
Assume a virtue if you have it not.
|
|
That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,
|
|
Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,
|
|
That to the use of actions fair and good
|
|
He likewise gives a frock or livery
|
|
That aptly is put on. Refrain tonight,
|
|
And that shall lend a kind of easiness
|
|
To the next abstinence, the next more easy;
|
|
For use almost can change the stamp of nature
|
|
And either ... the devil or throw him out
|
|
With wondrous potency. Once more, good night,
|
|
And, when you are desirous to be blest,
|
|
I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord
|
|
[Pointing to Polonius.]
|
|
I do repent; but heaven hath pleased it so
|
|
To punish me with this and this with me,
|
|
That I must be their scourge and minister.
|
|
I will bestow him and will answer well
|
|
The death I gave him. So, again, good night.
|
|
I must be cruel only to be kind.
|
|
This bad begins, and worse remains behind.
|
|
One word more, good lady.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN What shall I do?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Not this by no means that I bid you do:
|
|
Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed,
|
|
Pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his mouse,
|
|
And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses
|
|
Or paddling in your neck with his damned fingers,
|
|
Make you to ravel all this matter out
|
|
That I essentially am not in madness,
|
|
But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know,
|
|
For who that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,
|
|
Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,
|
|
Such dear concernings hide? Who would do so?
|
|
No, in despite of sense and secrecy,
|
|
Unpeg the basket on the house's top,
|
|
Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape,
|
|
To try conclusions, in the basket creep
|
|
And break your own neck down.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Be thou assured, if words be made of breath
|
|
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe
|
|
What thou hast said to me.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I must to England, you know that.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Alack,
|
|
I had forgot! 'Tis so concluded on.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
There's letters sealed; and my two schoolfellows,
|
|
Whom I will trust as I will adders fanged,
|
|
They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way
|
|
And marshal me to knavery. Let it work,
|
|
For 'tis the sport to have the enginer
|
|
Hoist with his own petard; and 't shall go hard
|
|
But I will delve one yard below their mines
|
|
And blow them at the moon. O, 'tis most sweet
|
|
When in one line two crafts directly meet.
|
|
This man shall set me packing.
|
|
I'll lug the guts into the neighbor room.
|
|
Mother, good night indeed. This counselor
|
|
Is now most still, most secret, and most grave,
|
|
Who was in life a foolish prating knave.--
|
|
Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.--
|
|
Good night, mother.
|
|
[They exit, Hamlet tugging in Polonius.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 4
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter King and Queen, with Rosencrantz and
|
|
Guildenstern.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
There's matter in these sighs; these profound heaves
|
|
You must translate; 'tis fit we understand them.
|
|
Where is your son?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Bestow this place on us a little while.
|
|
[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit.]
|
|
Ah, mine own lord, what have I seen tonight!
|
|
|
|
KING What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Mad as the sea and wind when both contend
|
|
Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit,
|
|
Behind the arras hearing something stir,
|
|
Whips out his rapier, cries "A rat, a rat,"
|
|
And in this brainish apprehension kills
|
|
The unseen good old man.
|
|
|
|
KING O heavy deed!
|
|
It had been so with us, had we been there.
|
|
His liberty is full of threats to all--
|
|
To you yourself, to us, to everyone.
|
|
Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answered?
|
|
It will be laid to us, whose providence
|
|
Should have kept short, restrained, and out of haunt
|
|
This mad young man. But so much was our love,
|
|
We would not understand what was most fit,
|
|
But, like the owner of a foul disease,
|
|
To keep it from divulging, let it feed
|
|
Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
To draw apart the body he hath killed,
|
|
O'er whom his very madness, like some ore
|
|
Among a mineral of metals base,
|
|
Shows itself pure: he weeps for what is done.
|
|
|
|
KING O Gertrude, come away!
|
|
The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch
|
|
But we will ship him hence; and this vile deed
|
|
We must with all our majesty and skill
|
|
Both countenance and excuse.--Ho, Guildenstern!
|
|
|
|
[Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
|
|
|
|
Friends both, go join you with some further aid.
|
|
Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,
|
|
And from his mother's closet hath he dragged him.
|
|
Go seek him out, speak fair, and bring the body
|
|
Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this.
|
|
[Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit.]
|
|
Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends
|
|
And let them know both what we mean to do
|
|
And what's untimely done. ...
|
|
Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,
|
|
As level as the cannon to his blank
|
|
Transports his poisoned shot, may miss our name
|
|
And hit the woundless air. O, come away!
|
|
My soul is full of discord and dismay.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Hamlet.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Safely stowed.
|
|
|
|
GENTLEMEN, [within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET But soft, what noise? Who calls on Hamlet?
|
|
O, here they come.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and others.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence
|
|
And bear it to the chapel.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Do not believe it.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Believe what?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET That I can keep your counsel and not mine
|
|
own. Besides, to be demanded of a sponge, what
|
|
replication should be made by the son of a king?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Take you me for a sponge, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ay, sir, that soaks up the King's countenance,
|
|
his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the
|
|
King best service in the end. He keeps them like an
|
|
ape an apple in the corner of his jaw, first mouthed,
|
|
to be last swallowed. When he needs what you have
|
|
gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you
|
|
shall be dry again.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ I understand you not, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I am glad of it. A knavish speech sleeps in a
|
|
foolish ear.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ My lord, you must tell us where the
|
|
body is and go with us to the King.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET The body is with the King, but the King is not
|
|
with the body. The King is a thing--
|
|
|
|
GUILDENSTERN A "thing," my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and
|
|
all after!
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 3
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter King and two or three.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
I have sent to seek him and to find the body.
|
|
How dangerous is it that this man goes loose!
|
|
Yet must not we put the strong law on him.
|
|
He's loved of the distracted multitude,
|
|
Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;
|
|
And, where 'tis so, th' offender's scourge is weighed,
|
|
But never the offense. To bear all smooth and even,
|
|
This sudden sending him away must seem
|
|
Deliberate pause. Diseases desperate grown
|
|
By desperate appliance are relieved
|
|
Or not at all.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Rosencrantz.]
|
|
|
|
How now, what hath befallen?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
Where the dead body is bestowed, my lord,
|
|
We cannot get from him.
|
|
|
|
KING But where is he?
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ
|
|
Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Bring him before us.
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Ho! Bring in the lord.
|
|
|
|
[They enter with Hamlet.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
KING Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET At supper.
|
|
|
|
KING At supper where?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. A
|
|
certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at
|
|
him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet. We
|
|
fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves
|
|
for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is
|
|
but variable service--two dishes but to one table.
|
|
That's the end.
|
|
|
|
KING Alas, alas!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET A man may fish with the worm that hath eat
|
|
of a king and eat of the fish that hath fed of that
|
|
worm.
|
|
|
|
KING What dost thou mean by this?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nothing but to show you how a king may go a
|
|
progress through the guts of a beggar.
|
|
|
|
KING Where is Polonius?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET In heaven. Send thither to see. If your messenger
|
|
find him not there, seek him i' th' other
|
|
place yourself. But if, indeed, you find him not
|
|
within this month, you shall nose him as you go up
|
|
the stairs into the lobby.
|
|
|
|
KING, [to Attendants.] Go, seek him there.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET He will stay till you come. [Attendants exit.]
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety
|
|
(Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve
|
|
For that which thou hast done) must send thee
|
|
hence
|
|
With fiery quickness. Therefore prepare thyself.
|
|
The bark is ready, and the wind at help,
|
|
Th' associates tend, and everything is bent
|
|
For England.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET For England?
|
|
|
|
KING Ay, Hamlet.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Good.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I see a cherub that sees them. But come, for
|
|
England.
|
|
Farewell, dear mother.
|
|
|
|
KING Thy loving father, Hamlet.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
My mother. Father and mother is man and wife,
|
|
Man and wife is one flesh, and so, my mother.--
|
|
Come, for England. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard.
|
|
Delay it not. I'll have him hence tonight.
|
|
Away, for everything is sealed and done
|
|
That else leans on th' affair. Pray you, make haste.
|
|
[All but the King exit.]
|
|
And England, if my love thou hold'st at aught
|
|
(As my great power thereof may give thee sense,
|
|
Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red
|
|
After the Danish sword, and thy free awe
|
|
Pays homage to us), thou mayst not coldly set
|
|
Our sovereign process, which imports at full,
|
|
By letters congruing to that effect,
|
|
The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England,
|
|
For like the hectic in my blood he rages,
|
|
And thou must cure me. Till I know 'tis done,
|
|
Howe'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin.
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 4
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Fortinbras with his army over the stage.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
FORTINBRAS
|
|
Go, Captain, from me greet the Danish king.
|
|
Tell him that by his license Fortinbras
|
|
Craves the conveyance of a promised march
|
|
Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous.
|
|
If that his Majesty would aught with us,
|
|
We shall express our duty in his eye;
|
|
And let him know so.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN I will do 't, my lord.
|
|
|
|
FORTINBRAS Go softly on. [All but the Captain exit.]
|
|
|
|
[Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and others.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Good sir, whose powers are these?
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN They are of Norway, sir.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How purposed, sir, I pray you?
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN Against some part of Poland.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Who commands them, sir?
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Goes it against the main of Poland, sir,
|
|
Or for some frontier?
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Truly to speak, and with no addition,
|
|
We go to gain a little patch of ground
|
|
That hath in it no profit but the name.
|
|
To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;
|
|
Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole
|
|
A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Why, then, the Polack never will defend it.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN
|
|
Yes, it is already garrisoned.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats
|
|
Will not debate the question of this straw.
|
|
This is th' impostume of much wealth and peace,
|
|
That inward breaks and shows no cause without
|
|
Why the man dies.--I humbly thank you, sir.
|
|
|
|
CAPTAIN God be wi' you, sir. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
ROSENCRANTZ Will 't please you go, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I'll be with you straight. Go a little before.
|
|
[All but Hamlet exit.]
|
|
How all occasions do inform against me
|
|
And spur my dull revenge. What is a man
|
|
If his chief good and market of his time
|
|
Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.
|
|
Sure He that made us with such large discourse,
|
|
Looking before and after, gave us not
|
|
That capability and godlike reason
|
|
To fust in us unused. Now whether it be
|
|
Bestial oblivion or some craven scruple
|
|
Of thinking too precisely on th' event
|
|
(A thought which, quartered, hath but one part
|
|
wisdom
|
|
And ever three parts coward), I do not know
|
|
Why yet I live to say "This thing's to do,"
|
|
Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means
|
|
To do 't. Examples gross as Earth exhort me:
|
|
Witness this army of such mass and charge,
|
|
Led by a delicate and tender prince,
|
|
Whose spirit with divine ambition puffed
|
|
Makes mouths at the invisible event,
|
|
Exposing what is mortal and unsure
|
|
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare,
|
|
Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be great
|
|
Is not to stir without great argument,
|
|
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw
|
|
When honor's at the stake. How stand I, then,
|
|
That have a father killed, a mother stained,
|
|
Excitements of my reason and my blood,
|
|
And let all sleep, while to my shame I see
|
|
The imminent death of twenty thousand men
|
|
That for a fantasy and trick of fame
|
|
Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
|
|
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
|
|
Which is not tomb enough and continent
|
|
To hide the slain? O, from this time forth
|
|
My thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth!
|
|
[He exits.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 5
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Horatio, Queen, and a Gentleman.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
QUEEN I will not speak with her.
|
|
|
|
GENTLEMAN She is importunate,
|
|
Indeed distract; her mood will needs be pitied.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN What would she have?
|
|
|
|
GENTLEMAN
|
|
She speaks much of her father, says she hears
|
|
There's tricks i' th' world, and hems, and beats her
|
|
heart,
|
|
Spurns enviously at straws, speaks things in doubt
|
|
That carry but half sense. Her speech is nothing,
|
|
Yet the unshaped use of it doth move
|
|
The hearers to collection. They aim at it
|
|
And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;
|
|
Which, as her winks and nods and gestures yield
|
|
them,
|
|
Indeed would make one think there might be
|
|
thought,
|
|
Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
'Twere good she were spoken with, for she may
|
|
strew
|
|
Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Let her come in. [Gentleman exits.]
|
|
[Aside.] To my sick soul (as sin's true nature is),
|
|
Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss.
|
|
So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
|
|
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Ophelia distracted.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN How now, Ophelia?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA [sings]
|
|
How should I your true love know
|
|
From another one?
|
|
By his cockle hat and staff
|
|
And his sandal shoon.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Say you? Nay, pray you, mark.
|
|
[Sings.] He is dead and gone, lady,
|
|
He is dead and gone;
|
|
At his head a grass-green turf,
|
|
At his heels a stone.
|
|
Oh, ho!
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Nay, but Ophelia--
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Pray you, mark.
|
|
[Sings.] White his shroud as the mountain snow--
|
|
|
|
[Enter King.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Alas, look here, my lord.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA [sings]
|
|
Larded all with sweet flowers;
|
|
Which bewept to the ground did not go
|
|
With true-love showers.
|
|
|
|
KING How do you, pretty lady?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Well, God dild you. They say the owl was a
|
|
baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are but
|
|
know not what we may be. God be at your table.
|
|
|
|
KING Conceit upon her father.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA Pray let's have no words of this, but when
|
|
they ask you what it means, say you this:
|
|
[Sings.] Tomorrow is Saint Valentine's day,
|
|
All in the morning betime,
|
|
And I a maid at your window,
|
|
To be your Valentine.
|
|
Then up he rose and donned his clothes
|
|
And dupped the chamber door,
|
|
Let in the maid, that out a maid
|
|
Never departed more.
|
|
|
|
KING Pretty Ophelia--
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA
|
|
Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on 't:
|
|
[Sings.] By Gis and by Saint Charity,
|
|
Alack and fie for shame,
|
|
Young men will do 't, if they come to 't;
|
|
By Cock, they are to blame.
|
|
Quoth she "Before you tumbled me,
|
|
You promised me to wed."
|
|
He answers:
|
|
"So would I 'a done, by yonder sun,
|
|
An thou hadst not come to my bed."
|
|
|
|
KING How long hath she been thus?
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA I hope all will be well. We must be patient,
|
|
but I cannot choose but weep to think they would
|
|
lay him i' th' cold ground. My brother shall know of
|
|
it. And so I thank you for your good counsel. Come,
|
|
my coach! Good night, ladies, good night, sweet
|
|
ladies, good night, good night. [She exits.]
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you.
|
|
[Horatio exits.]
|
|
O, this is the poison of deep grief. It springs
|
|
All from her father's death, and now behold!
|
|
O Gertrude, Gertrude,
|
|
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
|
|
But in battalions: first, her father slain;
|
|
Next, your son gone, and he most violent author
|
|
Of his own just remove; the people muddied,
|
|
Thick, and unwholesome in their thoughts and
|
|
whispers
|
|
For good Polonius' death, and we have done but
|
|
greenly
|
|
In hugger-mugger to inter him; poor Ophelia
|
|
Divided from herself and her fair judgment,
|
|
Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts;
|
|
Last, and as much containing as all these,
|
|
Her brother is in secret come from France,
|
|
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
|
|
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
|
|
With pestilent speeches of his father's death,
|
|
Wherein necessity, of matter beggared,
|
|
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
|
|
In ear and ear. O, my dear Gertrude, this,
|
|
Like to a murd'ring piece, in many places
|
|
Gives me superfluous death.
|
|
[A noise within.]
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Alack, what noise is this?
|
|
|
|
KING Attend!
|
|
Where is my Switzers? Let them guard the door.
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Messenger.]
|
|
|
|
What is the matter?
|
|
|
|
MESSENGER Save yourself, my lord.
|
|
The ocean, overpeering of his list,
|
|
Eats not the flats with more impiteous haste
|
|
Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,
|
|
O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him "lord,"
|
|
And, as the world were now but to begin,
|
|
Antiquity forgot, custom not known,
|
|
The ratifiers and props of every word,
|
|
They cry "Choose we, Laertes shall be king!"
|
|
Caps, hands, and tongues applaud it to the clouds,
|
|
"Laertes shall be king! Laertes king!"
|
|
[A noise within.]
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
How cheerfully on the false trail they cry.
|
|
O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!
|
|
|
|
KING The doors are broke.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Laertes with others.
|
|
]
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
Where is this king?--Sirs, stand you all without.
|
|
|
|
ALL No, let's come in!
|
|
|
|
LAERTES I pray you, give me leave.
|
|
|
|
ALL We will, we will.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
I thank you. Keep the door. [Followers exit.] O, thou
|
|
vile king,
|
|
Give me my father!
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Calmly, good Laertes.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me
|
|
bastard,
|
|
Cries "cuckold" to my father, brands the harlot
|
|
Even here between the chaste unsmirched brow
|
|
Of my true mother.
|
|
|
|
KING What is the cause, Laertes,
|
|
That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?--
|
|
Let him go, Gertrude. Do not fear our person.
|
|
There's such divinity doth hedge a king
|
|
That treason can but peep to what it would,
|
|
Acts little of his will.--Tell me, Laertes,
|
|
Why thou art thus incensed.--Let him go,
|
|
Gertrude.--
|
|
Speak, man.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Where is my father?
|
|
|
|
KING Dead.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
But not by him.
|
|
|
|
KING Let him demand his fill.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with.
|
|
To hell, allegiance! Vows, to the blackest devil!
|
|
Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit!
|
|
I dare damnation. To this point I stand,
|
|
That both the worlds I give to negligence,
|
|
Let come what comes, only I'll be revenged
|
|
Most throughly for my father.
|
|
|
|
KING Who shall stay you?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES My will, not all the world.
|
|
And for my means, I'll husband them so well
|
|
They shall go far with little.
|
|
|
|
KING Good Laertes,
|
|
If you desire to know the certainty
|
|
Of your dear father, is 't writ in your revenge
|
|
That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and
|
|
foe,
|
|
Winner and loser?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES None but his enemies.
|
|
|
|
KING Will you know them, then?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms
|
|
And, like the kind life-rend'ring pelican,
|
|
Repast them with my blood.
|
|
|
|
KING Why, now you speak
|
|
Like a good child and a true gentleman.
|
|
That I am guiltless of your father's death
|
|
And am most sensibly in grief for it,
|
|
It shall as level to your judgment 'pear
|
|
As day does to your eye.
|
|
|
|
[A noise within:] "Let her come in!"
|
|
|
|
LAERTES How now, what noise is that?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Ophelia.]
|
|
|
|
O heat, dry up my brains! Tears seven times salt
|
|
Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!
|
|
By heaven, thy madness shall be paid with weight
|
|
Till our scale turn the beam! O rose of May,
|
|
Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!
|
|
O heavens, is 't possible a young maid's wits
|
|
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?
|
|
Nature is fine in love, and, where 'tis fine,
|
|
It sends some precious instance of itself
|
|
After the thing it loves.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA [sings]
|
|
They bore him barefaced on the bier,
|
|
Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny,
|
|
And in his grave rained many a tear.
|
|
Fare you well, my dove.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
Hadst thou thy wits and didst persuade revenge,
|
|
It could not move thus.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA You must sing "A-down a-down"--and you
|
|
"Call him a-down-a."--O, how the wheel becomes
|
|
it! It is the false steward that stole his master's
|
|
daughter.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES This nothing's more than matter.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA There's rosemary, that's for remembrance.
|
|
Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies,
|
|
that's for thoughts.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES A document in madness: thoughts and remembrance
|
|
fitted.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA There's fennel for you, and columbines.
|
|
There's rue for you, and here's some for me; we
|
|
may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. You must wear
|
|
your rue with a difference. There's a daisy. I would
|
|
give you some violets, but they withered all when
|
|
my father died. They say he made a good end.
|
|
[Sings.] For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
Thought and afflictions, passion, hell itself
|
|
She turns to favor and to prettiness.
|
|
|
|
OPHELIA [sings]
|
|
And will he not come again?
|
|
And will he not come again?
|
|
No, no, he is dead.
|
|
Go to thy deathbed.
|
|
He never will come again.
|
|
|
|
His beard was as white as snow,
|
|
All flaxen was his poll.
|
|
He is gone, he is gone,
|
|
And we cast away moan.
|
|
God 'a mercy on his soul.
|
|
And of all Christians' souls, I pray God. God be wi'
|
|
you. [She exits.]
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Do you see this, O God?
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Laertes, I must commune with your grief,
|
|
Or you deny me right. Go but apart,
|
|
Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will,
|
|
And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me.
|
|
If by direct or by collateral hand
|
|
They find us touched, we will our kingdom give,
|
|
Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,
|
|
To you in satisfaction; but if not,
|
|
Be you content to lend your patience to us,
|
|
And we shall jointly labor with your soul
|
|
To give it due content.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Let this be so.
|
|
His means of death, his obscure funeral
|
|
(No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,
|
|
No noble rite nor formal ostentation)
|
|
Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth,
|
|
That I must call 't in question.
|
|
|
|
KING So you shall,
|
|
And where th' offense is, let the great ax fall.
|
|
I pray you, go with me.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 6
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Horatio and others.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HORATIO What are they that would speak with me?
|
|
|
|
GENTLEMAN Seafaring men, sir. They say they have
|
|
letters for you.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Let them come in. [Gentleman exits.] I do not
|
|
know from what part of the world I should be
|
|
greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Sailors.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
SAILOR God bless you, sir.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Let Him bless thee too.
|
|
|
|
SAILOR He shall, sir, an 't please Him. There's a letter
|
|
for you, sir. It came from th' ambassador that was
|
|
bound for England--if your name be Horatio, as I
|
|
am let to know it is. [He hands Horatio a letter.]
|
|
|
|
HORATIO [reads the letter] Horatio, when thou shalt have
|
|
overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the
|
|
King. They have letters for him. Ere we were two days
|
|
old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave
|
|
us chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on
|
|
a compelled valor, and in the grapple I boarded them.
|
|
On the instant, they got clear of our ship; so I alone
|
|
became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like
|
|
thieves of mercy, but they knew what they did: I am to
|
|
do a good turn for them. Let the King have the letters
|
|
I have sent, and repair thou to me with as much speed
|
|
as thou wouldst fly death. I have words to speak in
|
|
thine ear will make thee dumb; yet are they much too
|
|
light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows
|
|
will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
|
|
hold their course for England; of them I have
|
|
much to tell thee. Farewell.
|
|
He that thou knowest thine,
|
|
Hamlet.
|
|
Come, I will give you way for these your letters
|
|
And do 't the speedier that you may direct me
|
|
To him from whom you brought them.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 7
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter King and Laertes.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Now must your conscience my acquittance seal,
|
|
And you must put me in your heart for friend,
|
|
Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
|
|
That he which hath your noble father slain
|
|
Pursued my life.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES It well appears. But tell me
|
|
Why you proceeded not against these feats,
|
|
So criminal and so capital in nature,
|
|
As by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else,
|
|
You mainly were stirred up.
|
|
|
|
KING O, for two special reasons,
|
|
Which may to you perhaps seem much unsinewed,
|
|
But yet to me they're strong. The Queen his mother
|
|
Lives almost by his looks, and for myself
|
|
(My virtue or my plague, be it either which),
|
|
She is so conjunctive to my life and soul
|
|
That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,
|
|
I could not but by her. The other motive
|
|
Why to a public count I might not go
|
|
Is the great love the general gender bear him,
|
|
Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
|
|
Work like the spring that turneth wood to stone,
|
|
Convert his gyves to graces, so that my arrows,
|
|
Too slightly timbered for so loud a wind,
|
|
Would have reverted to my bow again,
|
|
But not where I have aimed them.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
And so have I a noble father lost,
|
|
A sister driven into desp'rate terms,
|
|
Whose worth, if praises may go back again,
|
|
Stood challenger on mount of all the age
|
|
For her perfections. But my revenge will come.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Break not your sleeps for that. You must not think
|
|
That we are made of stuff so flat and dull
|
|
That we can let our beard be shook with danger
|
|
And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more.
|
|
I loved your father, and we love ourself,
|
|
And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine--
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Messenger with letters.]
|
|
|
|
How now? What news?
|
|
|
|
MESSENGER Letters, my lord, from
|
|
Hamlet.
|
|
These to your Majesty, this to the Queen.
|
|
|
|
KING From Hamlet? Who brought them?
|
|
|
|
MESSENGER
|
|
Sailors, my lord, they say. I saw them not.
|
|
They were given me by Claudio. He received them
|
|
Of him that brought them.
|
|
|
|
KING Laertes, you shall hear
|
|
them.--
|
|
Leave us. [Messenger exits.]
|
|
[Reads.] High and mighty, you shall know I am set
|
|
naked on your kingdom. Tomorrow shall I beg leave to
|
|
see your kingly eyes, when I shall (first asking your
|
|
pardon) thereunto recount the occasion of my sudden
|
|
and more strange return. Hamlet.
|
|
What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?
|
|
Or is it some abuse and no such thing?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Know you the hand?
|
|
|
|
KING 'Tis Hamlet's character. "Naked"--
|
|
And in a postscript here, he says "alone."
|
|
Can you advise me?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
I am lost in it, my lord. But let him come.
|
|
It warms the very sickness in my heart
|
|
That I shall live and tell him to his teeth
|
|
"Thus didst thou."
|
|
|
|
KING If it be so, Laertes
|
|
(As how should it be so? how otherwise?),
|
|
Will you be ruled by me?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Ay, my lord,
|
|
So you will not o'errule me to a peace.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
To thine own peace. If he be now returned,
|
|
As checking at his voyage, and that he means
|
|
No more to undertake it, I will work him
|
|
To an exploit, now ripe in my device,
|
|
Under the which he shall not choose but fall;
|
|
And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe,
|
|
But even his mother shall uncharge the practice
|
|
And call it accident.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES My lord, I will be ruled,
|
|
The rather if you could devise it so
|
|
That I might be the organ.
|
|
|
|
KING It falls right.
|
|
You have been talked of since your travel much,
|
|
And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality
|
|
Wherein they say you shine. Your sum of parts
|
|
Did not together pluck such envy from him
|
|
As did that one, and that, in my regard,
|
|
Of the unworthiest siege.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES What part is that, my lord?
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
A very ribbon in the cap of youth--
|
|
Yet needful too, for youth no less becomes
|
|
The light and careless livery that it wears
|
|
Than settled age his sables and his weeds,
|
|
Importing health and graveness. Two months since
|
|
Here was a gentleman of Normandy.
|
|
I have seen myself, and served against, the French,
|
|
And they can well on horseback, but this gallant
|
|
Had witchcraft in 't. He grew unto his seat,
|
|
And to such wondrous doing brought his horse
|
|
As had he been encorpsed and demi-natured
|
|
With the brave beast. So far he topped my thought
|
|
That I in forgery of shapes and tricks
|
|
Come short of what he did.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES A Norman was 't?
|
|
|
|
KING A Norman.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
Upon my life, Lamord.
|
|
|
|
KING The very same.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
I know him well. He is the brooch indeed
|
|
And gem of all the nation.
|
|
|
|
KING He made confession of you
|
|
And gave you such a masterly report
|
|
For art and exercise in your defense,
|
|
And for your rapier most especial,
|
|
That he cried out 'twould be a sight indeed
|
|
If one could match you. The 'scrimers of their
|
|
nation
|
|
He swore had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
|
|
If you opposed them. Sir, this report of his
|
|
Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy
|
|
That he could nothing do but wish and beg
|
|
Your sudden coming-o'er, to play with you.
|
|
Now out of this--
|
|
|
|
LAERTES What out of this, my lord?
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Laertes, was your father dear to you?
|
|
Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
|
|
A face without a heart?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Why ask you this?
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Not that I think you did not love your father,
|
|
But that I know love is begun by time
|
|
And that I see, in passages of proof,
|
|
Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
|
|
There lives within the very flame of love
|
|
A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it,
|
|
And nothing is at a like goodness still;
|
|
For goodness, growing to a pleurisy,
|
|
Dies in his own too-much. That we would do
|
|
We should do when we would; for this "would"
|
|
changes
|
|
And hath abatements and delays as many
|
|
As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;
|
|
And then this "should" is like a spendthrift sigh,
|
|
That hurts by easing. But to the quick of th' ulcer:
|
|
Hamlet comes back; what would you undertake
|
|
To show yourself indeed your father's son
|
|
More than in words?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES To cut his throat i' th' church.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
No place indeed should murder sanctuarize;
|
|
Revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes,
|
|
Will you do this? Keep close within your chamber.
|
|
Hamlet, returned, shall know you are come home.
|
|
We'll put on those shall praise your excellence
|
|
And set a double varnish on the fame
|
|
The Frenchman gave you; bring you, in fine,
|
|
together
|
|
And wager on your heads. He, being remiss,
|
|
Most generous, and free from all contriving,
|
|
Will not peruse the foils, so that with ease,
|
|
Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
|
|
A sword unbated, and in a pass of practice
|
|
Requite him for your father.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES I will do 't,
|
|
And for that purpose I'll anoint my sword.
|
|
I bought an unction of a mountebank
|
|
So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
|
|
Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,
|
|
Collected from all simples that have virtue
|
|
Under the moon, can save the thing from death
|
|
That is but scratched withal. I'll touch my point
|
|
With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
|
|
It may be death.
|
|
|
|
KING Let's further think of this,
|
|
Weigh what convenience both of time and means
|
|
May fit us to our shape. If this should fail,
|
|
And that our drift look through our bad
|
|
performance,
|
|
'Twere better not assayed. Therefore this project
|
|
Should have a back or second that might hold
|
|
If this did blast in proof. Soft, let me see.
|
|
We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings--
|
|
I ha 't!
|
|
When in your motion you are hot and dry
|
|
(As make your bouts more violent to that end)
|
|
And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepared
|
|
him
|
|
A chalice for the nonce, whereon but sipping,
|
|
If he by chance escape your venomed stuck,
|
|
Our purpose may hold there.--But stay, what
|
|
noise?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Queen.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
|
|
So fast they follow. Your sister's drowned, Laertes.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Drowned? O, where?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
There is a willow grows askant the brook
|
|
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.
|
|
Therewith fantastic garlands did she make
|
|
Of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,
|
|
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
|
|
But our cold maids do "dead men's fingers" call
|
|
them.
|
|
There on the pendant boughs her coronet weeds
|
|
Clamb'ring to hang, an envious sliver broke,
|
|
When down her weedy trophies and herself
|
|
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,
|
|
And mermaid-like awhile they bore her up,
|
|
Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds,
|
|
As one incapable of her own distress
|
|
Or like a creature native and endued
|
|
Unto that element. But long it could not be
|
|
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
|
|
Pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay
|
|
To muddy death.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Alas, then she is drowned.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Drowned, drowned.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,
|
|
And therefore I forbid my tears. But yet
|
|
It is our trick; nature her custom holds,
|
|
Let shame say what it will. When these are gone,
|
|
The woman will be out.--Adieu, my lord.
|
|
I have a speech o' fire that fain would blaze,
|
|
But that this folly drowns it. [He exits.]
|
|
|
|
KING Let's follow, Gertrude.
|
|
How much I had to do to calm his rage!
|
|
Now fear I this will give it start again.
|
|
Therefore, let's follow.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
ACT 5
|
|
=====
|
|
|
|
Scene 1
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Gravedigger and Another.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Is she to be buried in Christian burial,
|
|
when she willfully seeks her own salvation?
|
|
|
|
OTHER I tell thee she is. Therefore make her grave
|
|
straight. The crowner hath sat on her and finds it
|
|
Christian burial.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER How can that be, unless she drowned
|
|
herself in her own defense?
|
|
|
|
OTHER Why, 'tis found so.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER It must be se offendendo; it cannot be
|
|
else. For here lies the point: if I drown myself
|
|
wittingly, it argues an act, and an act hath three
|
|
branches--it is to act, to do, to perform. Argal, she
|
|
drowned herself wittingly.
|
|
|
|
OTHER Nay, but hear you, goodman delver--
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Give me leave. Here lies the water;
|
|
good. Here stands the man; good. If the man go to
|
|
this water and drown himself, it is (will he, nill he)
|
|
he goes; mark you that. But if the water come to him
|
|
and drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, he
|
|
that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his
|
|
own life.
|
|
|
|
OTHER But is this law?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Ay, marry, is 't--crowner's 'quest law.
|
|
|
|
OTHER Will you ha' the truth on 't? If this had not been
|
|
a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'
|
|
Christian burial.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Why, there thou sayst. And the more
|
|
pity that great folk should have count'nance in this
|
|
world to drown or hang themselves more than
|
|
their even-Christian. Come, my spade. There is no
|
|
ancient gentlemen but gard'ners, ditchers, and
|
|
grave-makers. They hold up Adam's profession.
|
|
|
|
OTHER Was he a gentleman?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER He was the first that ever bore arms.
|
|
|
|
OTHER Why, he had none.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER What, art a heathen? How dost thou
|
|
understand the scripture? The scripture says Adam
|
|
digged. Could he dig without arms? I'll put another
|
|
question to thee. If thou answerest me not to the
|
|
purpose, confess thyself--
|
|
|
|
OTHER Go to!
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER What is he that builds stronger than
|
|
either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?
|
|
|
|
OTHER The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a
|
|
thousand tenants.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER I like thy wit well, in good faith. The
|
|
gallows does well. But how does it well? It does
|
|
well to those that do ill. Now, thou dost ill to say the
|
|
gallows is built stronger than the church. Argal, the
|
|
gallows may do well to thee. To 't again, come.
|
|
|
|
OTHER "Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright,
|
|
or a carpenter?"
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
|
|
|
|
OTHER Marry, now I can tell.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER To 't.
|
|
|
|
OTHER Mass, I cannot tell.
|
|
|
|
[Enter Hamlet and Horatio afar off.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Cudgel thy brains no more about it,
|
|
for your dull ass will not mend his pace with
|
|
beating. And, when you are asked this question
|
|
next, say "a grave-maker." The houses he makes
|
|
lasts till doomsday. Go, get thee in, and fetch me a
|
|
stoup of liquor.
|
|
[The Other Man exits
|
|
and the Gravedigger digs and sings.]
|
|
In youth when I did love, did love,
|
|
Methought it was very sweet
|
|
To contract--O--the time for--a--my behove,
|
|
O, methought there--a--was nothing--a--meet.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Has this fellow no feeling of his business? He
|
|
sings in grave-making.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Custom hath made it in him a property of
|
|
easiness.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET 'Tis e'en so. The hand of little employment
|
|
hath the daintier sense.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER [sings]
|
|
But age with his stealing steps
|
|
Hath clawed me in his clutch,
|
|
And hath shipped me into the land,
|
|
As if I had never been such.
|
|
[He digs up a skull.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET That skull had a tongue in it and could sing
|
|
once. How the knave jowls it to the ground as if
|
|
'twere Cain's jawbone, that did the first murder!
|
|
This might be the pate of a politician which this ass
|
|
now o'erreaches, one that would circumvent God,
|
|
might it not?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO It might, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Or of a courtier, which could say "Good
|
|
morrow, sweet lord! How dost thou, sweet lord?"
|
|
This might be my Lord Such-a-one that praised my
|
|
Lord Such-a-one's horse when he went to beg it,
|
|
might it not?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Ay, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why, e'en so. And now my Lady Worm's,
|
|
chapless and knocked about the mazard with a
|
|
sexton's spade. Here's fine revolution, an we had
|
|
the trick to see 't. Did these bones cost no more the
|
|
breeding but to play at loggets with them? Mine
|
|
ache to think on 't.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER [sings]
|
|
A pickax and a spade, a spade,
|
|
For and a shrouding sheet,
|
|
O, a pit of clay for to be made
|
|
For such a guest is meet.
|
|
[He digs up more skulls.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET There's another. Why may not that be the
|
|
skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his
|
|
quillities, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? Why
|
|
does he suffer this mad knave now to knock him
|
|
about the sconce with a dirty shovel and will not tell
|
|
him of his action of battery? Hum, this fellow might
|
|
be in 's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,
|
|
his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,
|
|
his recoveries. Is this the fine of his fines and the
|
|
recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate full
|
|
of fine dirt? Will his vouchers vouch him no more
|
|
of his purchases, and double ones too, than the
|
|
length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very
|
|
conveyances of his lands will scarcely lie in this box,
|
|
and must th' inheritor himself have no more, ha?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Not a jot more, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Is not parchment made of sheepskins?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Ay, my lord, and of calves' skins too.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET They are sheep and calves which seek out
|
|
assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow.--
|
|
Whose grave's this, sirrah?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Mine, sir.
|
|
[Sings.] O, a pit of clay for to be made
|
|
For such a guest is meet.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in 't.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER You lie out on 't, sir, and therefore 'tis
|
|
not yours. For my part, I do not lie in 't, yet it is
|
|
mine.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Thou dost lie in 't, to be in 't and say it is thine.
|
|
'Tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou
|
|
liest.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again
|
|
from me to you.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What man dost thou dig it for?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER For no man, sir.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What woman then?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER For none, neither.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Who is to be buried in 't?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER One that was a woman, sir, but, rest
|
|
her soul, she's dead.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How absolute the knave is! We must speak by
|
|
the card, or equivocation will undo us. By the
|
|
Lord, Horatio, this three years I have took note of
|
|
it: the age is grown so picked that the toe of the
|
|
peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he
|
|
galls his kibe.--How long hast thou been
|
|
grave-maker?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Of all the days i' th' year, I came to 't
|
|
that day that our last King Hamlet overcame
|
|
Fortinbras.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How long is that since?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Cannot you tell that? Every fool can
|
|
tell that. It was that very day that young Hamlet
|
|
was born--he that is mad, and sent into England.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Why, because he was mad. He shall
|
|
recover his wits there. Or if he do not, 'tis no great
|
|
matter there.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER 'Twill not be seen in him there. There
|
|
the men are as mad as he.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How came he mad?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Very strangely, they say.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How "strangely"?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Faith, e'en with losing his wits.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Upon what ground?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Why, here in Denmark. I have been
|
|
sexton here, man and boy, thirty years.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How long will a man lie i' th' earth ere he rot?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Faith, if he be not rotten before he die
|
|
(as we have many pocky corses nowadays that will
|
|
scarce hold the laying in), he will last you some
|
|
eight year or nine year. A tanner will last you nine
|
|
year.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Why he more than another?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his
|
|
trade that he will keep out water a great while; and
|
|
your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead
|
|
body. Here's a skull now hath lien you i' th' earth
|
|
three-and-twenty years.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Whose was it?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER A whoreson mad fellow's it was.
|
|
Whose do you think it was?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Nay, I know not.
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER A pestilence on him for a mad rogue!
|
|
He poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once.
|
|
This same skull, sir, was, sir, Yorick's skull, the
|
|
King's jester.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET This?
|
|
|
|
GRAVEDIGGER E'en that.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET, [taking the skull] Let me see. Alas, poor
|
|
Yorick! I knew him, Horatio--a fellow of infinite
|
|
jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his
|
|
back a thousand times, and now how abhorred in
|
|
my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung
|
|
those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft.
|
|
Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your
|
|
songs? your flashes of merriment that were wont to
|
|
set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your
|
|
own grinning? Quite chapfallen? Now get you to my
|
|
lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch
|
|
thick, to this favor she must come. Make her laugh
|
|
at that.--Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO What's that, my lord?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this
|
|
fashion i' th' earth?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO E'en so.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET And smelt so? Pah! [He puts the skull down.]
|
|
|
|
HORATIO E'en so, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET To what base uses we may return, Horatio!
|
|
Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of
|
|
Alexander till he find it stopping a bunghole?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO 'Twere to consider too curiously to consider
|
|
so.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither,
|
|
with modesty enough and likelihood to lead it, as
|
|
thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander
|
|
returneth to dust; the dust is earth; of earth
|
|
we make loam; and why of that loam whereto he
|
|
was converted might they not stop a beer barrel?
|
|
Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay,
|
|
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.
|
|
O, that that earth which kept the world in awe
|
|
Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw!
|
|
|
|
[Enter King, Queen, Laertes, Lords attendant, and the
|
|
corpse of Ophelia, with a Doctor of Divinity.]
|
|
|
|
But soft, but soft awhile! Here comes the King,
|
|
The Queen, the courtiers. Who is this they follow?
|
|
And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken
|
|
The corse they follow did with desp'rate hand
|
|
Fordo its own life. 'Twas of some estate.
|
|
Couch we awhile and mark. [They step aside.]
|
|
|
|
LAERTES What ceremony else?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET That is Laertes, a very noble youth. Mark.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES What ceremony else?
|
|
|
|
DOCTOR
|
|
Her obsequies have been as far enlarged
|
|
As we have warranty. Her death was doubtful,
|
|
And, but that great command o'ersways the order,
|
|
She should in ground unsanctified been lodged
|
|
Till the last trumpet. For charitable prayers
|
|
Shards, flints, and pebbles should be thrown on
|
|
her.
|
|
Yet here she is allowed her virgin crants,
|
|
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
|
|
Of bell and burial.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
Must there no more be done?
|
|
|
|
DOCTOR No more be done.
|
|
We should profane the service of the dead
|
|
To sing a requiem and such rest to her
|
|
As to peace-parted souls.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Lay her i' th' earth,
|
|
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
|
|
May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,
|
|
A minist'ring angel shall my sister be
|
|
When thou liest howling.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET, [to Horatio] What, the fair Ophelia?
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Sweets to the sweet, farewell!
|
|
[She scatters flowers.]
|
|
I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;
|
|
I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid,
|
|
And not have strewed thy grave.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES O, treble woe
|
|
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head
|
|
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
|
|
Deprived thee of!--Hold off the earth awhile,
|
|
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.
|
|
[Leaps in the grave.]
|
|
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
|
|
Till of this flat a mountain you have made
|
|
T' o'ertop old Pelion or the skyish head
|
|
Of blue Olympus.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET, [advancing]
|
|
What is he whose grief
|
|
Bears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrow
|
|
Conjures the wand'ring stars and makes them stand
|
|
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
|
|
Hamlet the Dane.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES, [coming out of the grave]
|
|
The devil take thy soul!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Thou pray'st not well. [They grapple.]
|
|
I prithee take thy fingers from my throat,
|
|
For though I am not splenitive and rash,
|
|
Yet have I in me something dangerous,
|
|
Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand.
|
|
|
|
KING Pluck them asunder.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Hamlet! Hamlet!
|
|
|
|
ALL Gentlemen!
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Good my lord, be quiet.
|
|
[Hamlet and Laertes are separated.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Why, I will fight with him upon this theme
|
|
Until my eyelids will no longer wag!
|
|
|
|
QUEEN O my son, what theme?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers
|
|
Could not with all their quantity of love
|
|
Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
|
|
|
|
KING O, he is mad, Laertes!
|
|
|
|
QUEEN For love of God, forbear him.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET 'Swounds, show me what thou 't do.
|
|
Woo't weep, woo't fight, woo't fast, woo't tear
|
|
thyself,
|
|
Woo't drink up eisel, eat a crocodile?
|
|
I'll do 't. Dost thou come here to whine?
|
|
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
|
|
Be buried quick with her, and so will I.
|
|
And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
|
|
Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
|
|
Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
|
|
Make Ossa like a wart. Nay, an thou 'lt mouth,
|
|
I'll rant as well as thou.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN This is mere madness;
|
|
And thus awhile the fit will work on him.
|
|
Anon, as patient as the female dove
|
|
When that her golden couplets are disclosed,
|
|
His silence will sit drooping.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Hear you, sir,
|
|
What is the reason that you use me thus?
|
|
I loved you ever. But it is no matter.
|
|
Let Hercules himself do what he may,
|
|
The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
|
|
[Hamlet exits.]
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him.
|
|
[Horatio exits.]
|
|
[To Laertes.] Strengthen your patience in our last
|
|
night's speech.
|
|
We'll put the matter to the present push.--
|
|
Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.--
|
|
This grave shall have a living monument.
|
|
An hour of quiet thereby shall we see.
|
|
Till then in patience our proceeding be.
|
|
[They exit.]
|
|
|
|
Scene 2
|
|
=======
|
|
[Enter Hamlet and Horatio.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
So much for this, sir. Now shall you see the other.
|
|
You do remember all the circumstance?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Remember it, my lord!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting
|
|
That would not let me sleep. Methought I lay
|
|
Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly--
|
|
And praised be rashness for it; let us know,
|
|
Our indiscretion sometime serves us well
|
|
When our deep plots do pall; and that should learn
|
|
us
|
|
There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
|
|
Rough-hew them how we will--
|
|
|
|
HORATIO That is most
|
|
certain.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Up from my cabin,
|
|
My sea-gown scarfed about me, in the dark
|
|
Groped I to find out them; had my desire,
|
|
Fingered their packet, and in fine withdrew
|
|
To mine own room again, making so bold
|
|
(My fears forgetting manners) to unfold
|
|
Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio,
|
|
A royal knavery--an exact command,
|
|
Larded with many several sorts of reasons
|
|
Importing Denmark's health and England's too,
|
|
With--ho!--such bugs and goblins in my life,
|
|
That on the supervise, no leisure bated,
|
|
No, not to stay the grinding of the ax,
|
|
My head should be struck off.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Is 't possible?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Here's the commission. Read it at more leisure.
|
|
[Handing him a paper.]
|
|
But wilt thou hear now how I did proceed?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO I beseech you.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Being thus benetted round with villainies,
|
|
Or I could make a prologue to my brains,
|
|
They had begun the play. I sat me down,
|
|
Devised a new commission, wrote it fair--
|
|
I once did hold it, as our statists do,
|
|
A baseness to write fair, and labored much
|
|
How to forget that learning; but, sir, now
|
|
It did me yeoman's service. Wilt thou know
|
|
Th' effect of what I wrote?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Ay, good my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
An earnest conjuration from the King,
|
|
As England was his faithful tributary,
|
|
As love between them like the palm might flourish,
|
|
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear
|
|
And stand a comma 'tween their amities,
|
|
And many suchlike ases of great charge,
|
|
That, on the view and knowing of these contents,
|
|
Without debatement further, more or less,
|
|
He should those bearers put to sudden death,
|
|
Not shriving time allowed.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO How was this sealed?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Why, even in that was heaven ordinant.
|
|
I had my father's signet in my purse,
|
|
Which was the model of that Danish seal;
|
|
Folded the writ up in the form of th' other,
|
|
Subscribed it, gave 't th' impression, placed it
|
|
safely,
|
|
The changeling never known. Now, the next day
|
|
Was our sea-fight; and what to this was sequent
|
|
Thou knowest already.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to 't.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Why, man, they did make love to this employment.
|
|
They are not near my conscience. Their defeat
|
|
Does by their own insinuation grow.
|
|
'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes
|
|
Between the pass and fell incensed points
|
|
Of mighty opposites.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Why, what a king is this!
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Does it not, think thee, stand me now upon--
|
|
He that hath killed my king and whored my mother,
|
|
Popped in between th' election and my hopes,
|
|
Thrown out his angle for my proper life,
|
|
And with such cozenage--is 't not perfect
|
|
conscience
|
|
To quit him with this arm? And is 't not to be
|
|
damned
|
|
To let this canker of our nature come
|
|
In further evil?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO
|
|
It must be shortly known to him from England
|
|
What is the issue of the business there.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
It will be short. The interim's mine,
|
|
And a man's life's no more than to say "one."
|
|
But I am very sorry, good Horatio,
|
|
That to Laertes I forgot myself,
|
|
For by the image of my cause I see
|
|
The portraiture of his. I'll court his favors.
|
|
But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me
|
|
Into a tow'ring passion.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Peace, who comes here?
|
|
|
|
[Enter Osric, a courtier.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Your Lordship is right welcome back to
|
|
Denmark.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I humbly thank you, sir. [Aside to Horatio.]
|
|
Dost know this waterfly?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO, [aside to Hamlet] No, my good lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET, [aside to Horatio] Thy state is the more gracious,
|
|
for 'tis a vice to know him. He hath much
|
|
land, and fertile. Let a beast be lord of beasts and his
|
|
crib shall stand at the king's mess. 'Tis a chough,
|
|
but, as I say, spacious in the possession of dirt.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Sweet lord, if your Lordship were at leisure, I
|
|
should impart a thing to you from his Majesty.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of
|
|
spirit. Put your bonnet to his right use: 'tis for the
|
|
head.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC I thank your Lordship; it is very hot.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET No, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind is
|
|
northerly.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET But yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for
|
|
my complexion.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry, as
|
|
'twere--I cannot tell how. My lord, his Majesty
|
|
bade me signify to you that he has laid a great wager
|
|
on your head. Sir, this is the matter--
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I beseech you, remember. [He motions to
|
|
Osric to put on his hat.]
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Nay, good my lord, for my ease, in good faith.
|
|
Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes--believe
|
|
me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent
|
|
differences, of very soft society and great showing.
|
|
Indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or
|
|
calendar of gentry, for you shall find in him the
|
|
continent of what part a gentleman would see.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in
|
|
you, though I know to divide him inventorially
|
|
would dozy th' arithmetic of memory, and yet but
|
|
yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the
|
|
verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great
|
|
article, and his infusion of such dearth and rareness
|
|
as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his
|
|
mirror, and who else would trace him, his umbrage,
|
|
nothing more.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Your Lordship speaks most infallibly of him.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET The concernancy, sir? Why do we wrap the
|
|
gentleman in our more rawer breath?
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Sir?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Is 't not possible to understand in another
|
|
tongue? You will to 't, sir, really.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET, [to Osric] What imports the nomination of
|
|
this gentleman?
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Of Laertes?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO His purse is empty already; all 's golden words
|
|
are spent.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Of him, sir.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC I know you are not ignorant--
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I would you did, sir. Yet, in faith, if you did, it
|
|
would not much approve me. Well, sir?
|
|
|
|
OSRIC You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes
|
|
is--
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I dare not confess that, lest I should compare
|
|
with him in excellence. But to know a man well
|
|
were to know himself.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC I mean, sir, for his weapon. But in the imputation
|
|
laid on him by them, in his meed he's
|
|
unfellowed.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What's his weapon?
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Rapier and dagger.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET That's two of his weapons. But, well--
|
|
|
|
OSRIC The King, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary
|
|
horses, against the which he has impawned, as I
|
|
take it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their
|
|
assigns, as girdle, hangers, and so. Three of the
|
|
carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very
|
|
responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and
|
|
of very liberal conceit.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET What call you the "carriages"?
|
|
|
|
HORATIO I knew you must be edified by the margent
|
|
ere you had done.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC The carriages, sir, are the hangers.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET The phrase would be more germane to the
|
|
matter if we could carry a cannon by our sides. I
|
|
would it might be "hangers" till then. But on. Six
|
|
Barbary horses against six French swords, their
|
|
assigns, and three liberal-conceited carriages--
|
|
that's the French bet against the Danish. Why is this
|
|
all "impawned," as you call it?
|
|
|
|
OSRIC The King, sir, hath laid, sir, that in a dozen
|
|
passes between yourself and him, he shall not
|
|
exceed you three hits. He hath laid on twelve for
|
|
nine, and it would come to immediate trial if your
|
|
Lordship would vouchsafe the answer.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET How if I answer no?
|
|
|
|
OSRIC I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person
|
|
in trial.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Sir, I will walk here in the hall. If it please his
|
|
Majesty, it is the breathing time of day with me. Let
|
|
the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the
|
|
King hold his purpose, I will win for him, an I can.
|
|
If not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd
|
|
hits.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Shall I deliver you e'en so?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET To this effect, sir, after what flourish your
|
|
nature will.
|
|
|
|
OSRIC I commend my duty to your Lordship.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Yours. [Osric exits.] He does well to commend
|
|
it himself. There are no tongues else for 's
|
|
turn.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO This lapwing runs away with the shell on his
|
|
head.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET He did comply, sir, with his dug before he
|
|
sucked it. Thus has he (and many more of the same
|
|
breed that I know the drossy age dotes on) only got
|
|
the tune of the time, and, out of an habit of
|
|
encounter, a kind of yeasty collection, which carries
|
|
them through and through the most fanned
|
|
and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to
|
|
their trial, the bubbles are out.
|
|
|
|
[Enter a Lord.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
LORD My lord, his Majesty commended him to you by
|
|
young Osric, who brings back to him that you
|
|
attend him in the hall. He sends to know if your
|
|
pleasure hold to play with Laertes, or that you will
|
|
take longer time.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I am constant to my purposes. They follow
|
|
the King's pleasure. If his fitness speaks, mine is
|
|
ready now or whensoever, provided I be so able as
|
|
now.
|
|
|
|
LORD The King and Queen and all are coming down.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET In happy time.
|
|
|
|
LORD The Queen desires you to use some gentle
|
|
entertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET She well instructs me. [Lord exits.]
|
|
|
|
HORATIO You will lose, my lord.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I do not think so. Since he went into France, I
|
|
have been in continual practice. I shall win at the
|
|
odds; but thou wouldst not think how ill all's here
|
|
about my heart. But it is no matter.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO Nay, good my lord--
|
|
|
|
HAMLET It is but foolery, but it is such a kind of
|
|
gaingiving as would perhaps trouble a woman.
|
|
|
|
HORATIO If your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will
|
|
forestall their repair hither and say you are not fit.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Not a whit. We defy augury. There is a
|
|
special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be
|
|
now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be
|
|
now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The
|
|
readiness is all. Since no man of aught he leaves
|
|
knows, what is 't to leave betimes? Let be.
|
|
|
|
[A table prepared. Enter Trumpets, Drums, and Officers
|
|
with cushions, King, Queen, Osric, and all the state,
|
|
foils, daggers, flagons of wine, and Laertes.]
|
|
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Come, Hamlet, come and take this hand from me.
|
|
[He puts Laertes' hand into Hamlet's.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET, [to Laertes]
|
|
Give me your pardon, sir. I have done you wrong;
|
|
But pardon 't as you are a gentleman. This presence
|
|
knows,
|
|
And you must needs have heard, how I am punished
|
|
With a sore distraction. What I have done
|
|
That might your nature, honor, and exception
|
|
Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.
|
|
Was 't Hamlet wronged Laertes? Never Hamlet.
|
|
If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,
|
|
And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,
|
|
Then Hamlet does it not; Hamlet denies it.
|
|
Who does it, then? His madness. If 't be so,
|
|
Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged;
|
|
His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.
|
|
Sir, in this audience
|
|
Let my disclaiming from a purposed evil
|
|
Free me so far in your most generous thoughts
|
|
That I have shot my arrow o'er the house
|
|
And hurt my brother.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES I am satisfied in nature,
|
|
Whose motive in this case should stir me most
|
|
To my revenge; but in my terms of honor
|
|
I stand aloof and will no reconcilement
|
|
Till by some elder masters of known honor
|
|
I have a voice and precedent of peace
|
|
To keep my name ungored. But till that time
|
|
I do receive your offered love like love
|
|
And will not wrong it.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET I embrace it freely
|
|
And will this brothers' wager frankly play.--
|
|
Give us the foils. Come on.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Come, one for me.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I'll be your foil, Laertes; in mine ignorance
|
|
Your skill shall, like a star i' th' darkest night,
|
|
Stick fiery off indeed.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES You mock me, sir.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET No, by this hand.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,
|
|
You know the wager?
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Very well, my lord.
|
|
Your Grace has laid the odds o' th' weaker side.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
I do not fear it; I have seen you both.
|
|
But, since he is better, we have therefore odds.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
This is too heavy. Let me see another.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
This likes me well. These foils have all a length?
|
|
|
|
OSRIC Ay, my good lord.
|
|
[Prepare to play.]
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Set me the stoups of wine upon that table.--
|
|
If Hamlet give the first or second hit
|
|
Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
|
|
Let all the battlements their ordnance fire.
|
|
The King shall drink to Hamlet's better breath,
|
|
And in the cup an union shall he throw,
|
|
Richer than that which four successive kings
|
|
In Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups,
|
|
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
|
|
The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
|
|
The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth,
|
|
"Now the King drinks to Hamlet." Come, begin.
|
|
And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.
|
|
[Trumpets the while.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Come on, sir.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Come, my lord. [They play.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET One.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES No.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Judgment!
|
|
|
|
OSRIC A hit, a very palpable hit.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Well, again.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Stay, give me drink.--Hamlet, this pearl is thine.
|
|
Here's to thy health.
|
|
[He drinks and then drops the pearl in the cup.]
|
|
[Drum, trumpets, and shot.]
|
|
Give him the cup.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I'll play this bout first. Set it by awhile.
|
|
Come. [They play.] Another hit. What say you?
|
|
|
|
LAERTES
|
|
A touch, a touch. I do confess 't.
|
|
|
|
KING
|
|
Our son shall win.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN He's fat and scant of breath.--
|
|
Here, Hamlet, take my napkin; rub thy brows.
|
|
The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
|
|
[She lifts the cup.]
|
|
|
|
HAMLET Good madam.
|
|
|
|
KING Gertrude, do not drink.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN
|
|
I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me. [She drinks.]
|
|
|
|
KING, [aside]
|
|
It is the poisoned cup. It is too late.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
I dare not drink yet, madam--by and by.
|
|
|
|
QUEEN Come, let me wipe thy face.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES, [to Claudius]
|
|
My lord, I'll hit him now.
|
|
|
|
KING I do not think 't.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES, [aside]
|
|
And yet it is almost against my conscience.
|
|
|
|
HAMLET
|
|
Come, for the third, Laertes. You do but dally.
|
|
I pray you pass with your best violence.
|
|
I am afeard you make a wanton of me.
|
|
|
|
LAERTES Say you so? Come on. [Play.]
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OSRIC Nothing neither way.
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LAERTES Have at you now!
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[Laertes wounds Hamlet. Then in scuffling they change
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rapiers, and Hamlet wounds Laertes.]
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KING Part them. They are incensed.
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HAMLET Nay, come again.
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[The Queen falls.]
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OSRIC Look to the Queen there, ho!
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HORATIO
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They bleed on both sides.--How is it, my lord?
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OSRIC How is 't, Laertes?
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LAERTES
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Why as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric.
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[He falls.]
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I am justly killed with mine own treachery.
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HAMLET
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How does the Queen?
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KING She swoons to see them bleed.
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QUEEN
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No, no, the drink, the drink! O, my dear Hamlet!
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The drink, the drink! I am poisoned. [She dies.]
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HAMLET
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O villainy! Ho! Let the door be locked. [Osric exits.]
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Treachery! Seek it out.
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LAERTES
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It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain.
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No med'cine in the world can do thee good.
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In thee there is not half an hour's life.
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The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,
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Unbated and envenomed. The foul practice
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Hath turned itself on me. Lo, here I lie,
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Never to rise again. Thy mother's poisoned.
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I can no more. The King, the King's to blame.
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HAMLET
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The point envenomed too! Then, venom, to thy
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work. [Hurts the King.]
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ALL Treason, treason!
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KING
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O, yet defend me, friends! I am but hurt.
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HAMLET
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Here, thou incestuous, murd'rous, damned Dane,
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Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?
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[Forcing him to drink the poison.]
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Follow my mother. [King dies.]
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LAERTES He is justly served.
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It is a poison tempered by himself.
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Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet.
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Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,
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Nor thine on me. [Dies.]
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HAMLET
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Heaven make thee free of it. I follow thee.--
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I am dead, Horatio.--Wretched queen, adieu.--
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You that look pale and tremble at this chance,
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That are but mutes or audience to this act,
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Had I but time (as this fell sergeant, Death,
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Is strict in his arrest), O, I could tell you--
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But let it be.--Horatio, I am dead.
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Thou livest; report me and my cause aright
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To the unsatisfied.
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HORATIO Never believe it.
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I am more an antique Roman than a Dane.
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Here's yet some liquor left. [He picks up the cup.]
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HAMLET As thou 'rt a man,
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Give me the cup. Let go! By heaven, I'll ha 't.
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O God, Horatio, what a wounded name,
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Things standing thus unknown, shall I leave behind
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me!
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If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
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Absent thee from felicity awhile
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And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain
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To tell my story.
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[A march afar off and shot within.]
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What warlike noise is this?
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[Enter Osric.]
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OSRIC
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Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,
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To th' ambassadors of England gives
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This warlike volley.
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HAMLET O, I die, Horatio!
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The potent poison quite o'ercrows my spirit.
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I cannot live to hear the news from England.
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But I do prophesy th' election lights
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On Fortinbras; he has my dying voice.
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So tell him, with th' occurrents, more and less,
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Which have solicited--the rest is silence.
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O, O, O, O! [Dies.]
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HORATIO
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Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince,
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And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
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[March within.]
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Why does the drum come hither?
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[Enter Fortinbras with the English Ambassadors with
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Drum, Colors, and Attendants.]
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FORTINBRAS Where is this sight?
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HORATIO What is it you would see?
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If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
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FORTINBRAS
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This quarry cries on havoc. O proud Death,
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What feast is toward in thine eternal cell
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That thou so many princes at a shot
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So bloodily hast struck?
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AMBASSADOR The sight is dismal,
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And our affairs from England come too late.
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The ears are senseless that should give us hearing
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To tell him his commandment is fulfilled,
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That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead.
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Where should we have our thanks?
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HORATIO Not from his
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mouth,
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Had it th' ability of life to thank you.
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He never gave commandment for their death.
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But since, so jump upon this bloody question,
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You from the Polack wars, and you from England,
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Are here arrived, give order that these bodies
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High on a stage be placed to the view,
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And let me speak to th' yet unknowing world
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How these things came about. So shall you hear
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Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
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Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
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Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
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And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
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Fall'n on th' inventors' heads. All this can I
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Truly deliver.
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FORTINBRAS Let us haste to hear it
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And call the noblest to the audience.
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For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune.
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I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,
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Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
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HORATIO
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Of that I shall have also cause to speak,
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And from his mouth whose voice will draw on
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more.
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But let this same be presently performed
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Even while men's minds are wild, lest more
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mischance
|
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On plots and errors happen.
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FORTINBRAS Let four captains
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Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage,
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For he was likely, had he been put on,
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To have proved most royal; and for his passage,
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The soldier's music and the rite of war
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Speak loudly for him.
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Take up the bodies. Such a sight as this
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Becomes the field but here shows much amiss.
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Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
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[They exit, marching, after the which, a peal of
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ordnance are shot off.]
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