 | The Tragedie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke |  |
Actus Secundus.
Enter Polonius, and Reynoldo.Polon.
Giue him his money, and these notes Reynoldo.
Reynol.
I will my Lord.
Polon.
You shall doe maruels wisely: good Reynoldo,
Before you visite him you make inquiry
Of his behauiour.
Reynol.
My Lord, I did intend it.
Polon.
Marry, well said;
Very well said. Looke you Sir,
Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris;
And how, and who; what meanes; and where they keepe:
What company, at what expence: and finding
By this encompassement and drift of question,
That they doe know my sonne: Come you more neerer
Then your particular demands will touch it,
Take you as 'twere some distant knowledge of him,
And thus I know his father and his friends,
And in part him. Doe you marke this Reynoldo?
Reynol.
I, very well my Lord.
Polon.
And in part him, but you may say not well;
But if't be hee I meane, hees very wilde;
Addicted so and so; and there put on him
What forgeries you please: marry, none so ranke,
As may dishonour him; take heed of that:
But Sir, such wanton, wild, and vsuall slips,
As are Companions noted and most knowne
To youth and liberty.
Reynol.
As gaming my Lord.
Polon.
I, or drinking, fencing, swearing,
Quarelling, drabbing. You may goe so farre.
Reynol.
My Lord that would dishonour him.
Polon.
Faith no, as you may season it in the charge;
You must not put another scandall on him,
That hee is open to Incontinencie;
That's not my meaning: but breath his faults so quaintly,
That they may seeme the taints of liberty;
The flash and out-breake of a fiery minde,
A sauagenes in vnreclaim'd bloud of generall assault.
Reynol.
But my good Lord.
Polon.
Wherefore should you doe this?
Reynol.
I my Lord, I would know that.
Polon.
Marry Sir, heere's my drift,
And I belieue it is a fetch of warrant:
You laying these slight sulleyes on my Sonne,
As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i'th' working:
Marke you your party in conuerse; him you would sound,
Hauing euer seene. In the prenominate crimes,
The youth you breath of guilty, be assur'd
He closes with you in this consequence:
Good sir, or so, or friend, or Gentleman.
According to the Phrase and the Addition,
Of man and Country.
Reynol.
Very good my Lord.
Polon.
And then Sir does he this?
He does: what was I about to say?
I was about to say somthing: where did I leaue?
Reynol.
At closes in the consequence:
At friend, or so, and Gentleman.
Polon.
At closes in the consequence, I marry,
He closes with you thus. I know the Gentleman,
I saw him yesterday, or tother day;
Or then or then, with such and such; and as you say,
There was he gaming, there o'retooke in's Rouse,
There falling out at Tennis; or perchance,
I saw him enter such a house of saile;
Videlicet, a Brothell, or so forth. See you now;
Your bait of falshood, takes this Cape of truth;
And thus doe we of wisedome and of reach
With windlesses, and with assaies of Bias,
By indirections finde directions out:
So by my former Lecture and aduice
Shall you my Sonne; you haue me, haue you not?
Reynol.
My Lord I haue.
Polon.
God buy you; fare you well.
Reynol.
Good my Lord.
Polon.
Obserue his inclination in your selfe.
Reynol.
I shall my Lord.
Polon.
And let him plye his Musicke.
Reynol.
Well, my Lord.
Exit.
Enter Ophelia.
Polon.
Farewell:
How now Ophelia, what's the matter?
Ophe.
Alas my Lord, I haue beene so affrighted.
Polon.
With what, in the name of Heauen?
Ophe.
My Lord, as I was sowing in my Chamber,
Lord Hamlet with his doublet all vnbrac'd,
No hat vpon his head, his stockings foul'd,
Vngartred, and downe giued to his Anckle,
Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other,
And with a looke so pitious in purport,
As if he had been loosed out of hell,
To speake of horrors: he comes before me.
Polon.
Mad for thy Loue?
Ophe.
My Lord, I doe not know: but truly I do feare it.
Polon.
What said he?
Ophe.
He tooke me by the wrist, and held me hard;
Then goes he to the length of all his arme;
And with his other hand thus o're his brow,
He fals to such perusall of my face,
As he would draw it. Long staid he so,
At last, a little shaking of mine Arme:
And thrice his head thus wauing vp and downe;
He rais'd a sigh, so pittious and profound,
That it did seeme to shatter all his bulke,
And end his being. That done, he lets me goe,
And with his head ouer his shoulders turn'd,
He seem'd to finde his way without his eyes,
For out adores he went without their helpe;
And to the last, bended their light on me.
Polon.
Goe with me, I will goe seeke the King,
This is the very extasie of Loue,
Whose violent property foredoes it selfe,
As oft as any passion vnder Heauen,
That does afflict our Natures. I am sorrie,
What haue you giuen him any hard words of late?
Ophe.
No my good Lord: but as you did command,
I did repell his Letters, and deny'de
His accesse to me.
Pol.
That hath made him mad.
I am sorrie that with better speed and iudgement
I had not quoted him. I feare he did but trifle,
And meant to wracke thee: but beshrew my iealousie:
It seemes it is as proper to our Age,
To cast beyond our selues in our Opinions,
As it is common for the yonger sort
To lacke discretion. Come, go we to the King,
This must be knowne, wc being kept close might moue
More greefe to hide, then hate to vtter loue.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter King, Queene, Rosincrane, and Guildensterne Cumalijs.King.
Welcome deere Rosincrance and Guildensterne.
Moreouer, that we much did long to see you,
The neede we haue to vse you, did prouoke
Our hastie sending. Something haue you heard
Of Hamlets transformation: so I call it,
Since not th'exterior, nor the inward man
Resembles that it was. What it should bee
More then his Fathers death, that thus hath put him
So much from th'vnderstanding of himselfe,
I cannot deeme of. I intreat you both,
That being of so young dayes brought vp with him:
And since so Neighbour'd to his youth, and humour,
That you vouchsafe your rest heere in our Court
Some little time: so by your Companies
To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather
So much as from Occasions you may gleane,
That open'd lies within our remedie.
Qu.
Good Gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you,
And sure I am, two men there are not liuing,
To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
To shew vs so much Gentrie, and good will,
As to expend your time with vs a-while,
For the supply and profit of our Hope,
Your Visitation shall receiue such thankes
As fits a Kings remembrance.
Rosin.
Both your Maiesties
Might by the Soueraigne power you haue of vs,
Put your dread pleasures, more into Command
Then to Entreatie.
Guil.
We both obey,
And here giue vp our selues, in the full bent,
To lay our Seruices freely at your feete,
To be commanded.
King.
Thankes Rosincrance, and gentle Guildensterne.
Qu.
Thankes Guildensterne and gentle Rosincrance.
And I beseech you instantly to visit
My too much changed Sonne.
Go some of ye,
And bring the Gentlemen where Hamlee is.
Guil.
Heauens make our presence and our practises
Pleasant and helpfull to him.
Exit.
Queene.
Amen.
Enter Polonius.
Pol.
Th'Ambassadors from Norwey, my good Lord,
Are ioyfully return'd.
King.
Thou still hast bin the Father of good Newes.
Pol.
Haue I, my Lord? Assure you, my good Liege,
I hold my dutie, as I hold my Soule,
Both to my God, one to my gracious King:
And I do thinke, or else this braine of mine
Hunts not the traile of Policie, so sure
As I haue vs'd to do: that I haue found
The very cause of Hamlets Lunacie.
King.
Oh speake of that, that I do long to heare.
Pol.
Giue first admittance to th'Ambassadors,
My Newes shall be the Newes to that great Feast.
King.
Thy selfe do grace to them, and bring them in.
He tels me my sweet Queene, that he hath found
The head and sourse of all yuur Sonnes distemper.
Qu.
I doubt it is no othet, but the maine,
His Fathers death, and our o're-hasty Marriage.
Enter Polonius, Uoltumand, and Cornelius.
King.
Well, we shall sift him. Welcome good Frends:
Say Voltumand, what from our Brother Norwey?
Volt.
Most faire returne of Greetings, and Desires.
Vpon our first, he sent out to suppresse
His Nephewes Leuies, which to him appear'd
To be a preparation 'gainst the Poleak:
But better look'd into, he truly found
It was against your Highnesse, whereat greeued,
That so his Sicknesse, Age, and Impotence
Was falsely borne in hand, sends out Arrests
On Fortinbras, which he (in breefe) obeyes,
Receiues rebuke from Norwey: and in fine,
Makes Vow before his Vnkle, neuer more
To giue th'assay of Armes against your Maiestie.
Whereon old Norwey, ouercome with ioy,
Giues him three thousand Crownes in Annuall Fee,
And his Commission to imploy those Soldiers
So leuied as before, against the Poleak:
With an intreaty heerein further shewne,
That it might please you to giue quiet passe
Through your Dominions, for his Enterprize,
On such regards of safety and allowance,
As therein are set downe.
King.
It likes vs well:
And at our more consider'd time wee'l read,
Answer, and thinke vpon this Businesse.
Meane time we take you, for your well-tooke Labour.
Go to your rest, at night wee'l Feast together.
Most welcome home.
Exit Ambass.
Pol.
This businesse is very well ended.
My Liege, and Madam, to expostulate
What Maiestie should be, what Dutie is,
Why day is day; night, night; and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste Night, Day, and Time.
Therefore, since Breuitie is the Soule of Wit,
And tediousnesse, the limbes and outward flourishes,
I will be breefe. Your Noble Sonne is mad:
Mad call I it; for to define true Madnesse,
What is't, but to be nothing else but mad.
But let that go.
Qu.
More matter, with lesse Art.
Pol.
Madam, I sweare I vse no Art at all:
That he is mad, 'tis true: 'Tis true 'tis pittie,
And pittie it is true: A foolish figure,
But farewell it: for I will vse no Art.
That we finde out the cause of this effect,
Or rather say, the cause of this defect;
For this effect defectiue, comes by cause,
Thus it remaines, and the remainder thus. Perpend,
I haue a daughter: haue, whil'st she is mine,
Who in her Dutie and Obedience, marke,
Hath giuen me this: now gather, and surmise.
The Letter.
To the Celestiall, and my Soules Idoll, the most beautified Ophelia.
That's an ill Phrase, a vilde Phrase, beautified is a vilde
Phrase: but you shall heare these in her excellent white
bosome, these.
Qu.
Came this from Hamlet to her.
Pol.
Good Madam stay awhile, I will be faithfull.
Doubt thou, the Starres are fire,
Doubt, that the Sunne doth moue:
Doubt Truth to be a Lier,
But neuer Doubt, I loue.
O deere Ophelia, I am ill at these Numbers: I haue not Art to
reckon my grones; but that I loue thee best, oh most Best belieue
it. Adieu.
Thine euermore most deere Lady, whilst this
Machine is to him, Hamlet.
And more aboue hath his soliciting,
As they fell out by Time, by Meanes, and Place,
All giuen to mine eare.
King.
But how hath she receiu'd his Loue?
Pol.
What do you thinke of me?
King.
As of a man, faithfull and Honourable.
Pol.
I wold faine proue so. But what might you think?
When I had seene this hot loue on the wing,
As I perceiued it, I must tell you that
Before my Daughter told me, what might you
Or my deere Maiestie your Queene heere, think,
If I had playd the Deske or Table-booke,
Or giuen my heart a winking, mute and dumbe,
Or look'd vpon this Loue, with idle sight,
What might you thinke? No, I went round to worke,
And (my yong Mistris) thus I did bespeake
Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy Starre,
This must not be: and then, I Precepts gaue her,
That she should locke her selfe from his Resort,
Admit no Messengers, receiue no Tokens:
Which done, she tooke the Fruites of my Aduice,
And he repulsed. A short Tale to make,
Fell into a Sadnesse, then into a Fast,
Thence to a Watch, thence into a Weaknesse,
Thence to a Lightnesse, and by this declension
Into the Madnesse whereon now he raues,
And all we waile for.
King.
Do you thinke 'tis this?
Qu.
It may be very likely.
Pol.
Hath there bene such a time, I'de fain know that,
That I haue possitiuely said, 'tis so,
When it prou'd otherwise?
King.
Not that I know.
Pol.
Take this from this; if this be otherwise,
If Circumstances leade me, I will finde
Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeede
Within the Center.
King.
How may we try it further?
Pol.
You know sometimes
He walkes foure houres together, heere
In the Lobby.
Qu.
So he ha's indeed.
Pol.
At such a time Ile loose my Daughter to him,
Be you and I behinde an Arras then,
Marke the encounter: If he loue her not,
And be not from his reason falne-thereon;
Let me be no Assistant for a State,
And keepe a Farme and Carters.
King.
We will try it.
Enter Hamlet reading on a Booke.
Qu.
But looke where sadly the poore wretch
Comes reading.
Pol.
Away I do beseech you, both away,
Ile boord him presently.
Exit King & Queen.
Oh giue me leaue. How does my good Lord Hamlet?
Ham.
Well, God-a-mercy.
Pol.
Do you know me, my Lord?
Ham.
Excellent, excellent well: y'are a Fishmonger.
Pol.
Not I my Lord.
Ham.
Then I would you were so honest a man.
Pol.
Honest, my Lord?
Ham.
I sir, to be honest as this world goes, is to bee
one man pick'd out of two thousand.
Pol.
That's very true, my Lord.
Ham.
For if the Sun breed Magots in a dead dogge,
being a good kissing Carrion—
Haue you a daughter?
Pol.
I haue my Lord.
Ham.
Let her not walke i'th' Sunne: Conception is a
blessing, but not as your daughter may conceiue Friend
looke too't.
Pol.
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 farre gone, farre gone: and truly in my youth,
I suffred much extreamity for loue: very neere this. Ile
speake to him againe. What do you read my Lord?
Ham.
Words, words, words.
Pol.
What is the matter, my Lord?
Ham.
Betweene who?
Pol.
I meane the matter you meane, my Lord.
Ham.
Slanders Sir: for the Satyricall slaue saies here,
that old men haue gray Beards; that their faces are wrinkled;
their eyes purging thicke Amber, or Plum-Tree
Gumme: and that they haue a plentifull locke of Wit,
together with weake Hammes. All which Sir, though I
most powerfully, and potently beleeue; yet I holde it
not Honestie to haue it thus set downe: For you your
selfe Sir, should be old as I am, if like a Crab you could
go backward.
Pol.
Though this be madnesse,
Yet there is Method in't: will you walke
Out of the ayre my Lord?
Ham.
Into my Graue?
Pol.
Indeed that is out o'th' Ayre:
How pregnant (sometimes) his Replies are?
A happinesse,
That often Madnesse hits on,
Which Reason and Sanitie could not
So prosperously be deliuer'd of.
I will leaue him,
And sodainely contriue the meanes of meeting
Betweene him, and my daughter.
My Honourable Lord, I will most humbly
Take my leaue of you.
You cannot Sir take from me any thing, that I
will more willingly part withall, except my life, my
life.
Polon.
Fare you well my Lord.
Ham.
These tedious old fooles.
Polon.
You goe to seeke my Lord Hamlet; there
hee is.
Enter Rosincran and Guildensterne.
Rosin.
God saue you Sir.
Guild.
Mine honour'd Lord?
Rosin.
My most deare Lord?
Ham.
My excellent good friends? How do'st thou
Guildensterne? Oh, Rosincrane, good Lads: How doe ye
both?
Rosin.
As the indifferent Children of the earth.
Guild
Happy, in that we are not ouer-happy: on Fortunes
Cap, we are not the very Button.
Ham.
Nor the Soales of her Shoo?
Rosin.
Neither my Lord.
Ham.
Then you liue about her waste, or in the middle
of her fauour?
Guil.
Faith, her priuates, we.
Ham.
In the secret parts of Fortune? Oh, most true:
she is a Strumpet. What's the newes?
Rosin.
None my Lord; but that the World's growne
honest.
Ham.
Then is Doomesday neere: But your newes is
not true. Let me question more in particular: what haue
you my good friends, deserued at the hands of Fortune,
that she sends you to Prison hither?
Guil.
Prison, my Lord?
Ham.
Denmark's a Prison.
Rosin.
Then is the World one.
Ham.
A goodly one, in which there are many Confines,
Wards, and Dungeons; Denmarke being one o'th'
worst.
Rosin.
We thinke not so my Lord.
Ham.
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.
Rosin.
Why then your Ambition makes it one: 'tis
too narrow for your minde.
Ham.
O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and
count my selfe a King of infinite space; were it not that
I haue bad dreames.
Guil.
Which dreames indeed are Ambition: for the
very substance of the Ambitious, is meerely the shadow
of a Dreame.
Ham.
A dreame it selfe is but a shadow.
Rosin.
Truely, and I hold Ambition of so ayry and
light a quality, that it is but a shadowes shadow.
Ham.
Then are our Beggers bodies; and our Monarchs
and out-stretcht Heroes the Beggers Shadowes:
shall wee to th'Court: for, by my fey I cannot reason?
Both.
Wee'l wait vpon you.
Ham.
No such matter. I will not sort you with the
rest of my seruants: for to speake to you like an honest
man: I am most dreadfuly attended; but in the beaten
way of friendship. What make you at Elsonower?
Rosin.
To visit you my Lord, no other occasion.
Ham.
Begger that I am, I am euen poore in thankes;
but I thanke you: and sure deare friends my thanks
are too deare a halfepeny; were you not sent for? Is it
your owne inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come,
deale iustly with me: come, come; nay speake.
Guil.
What should we say my Lord?
Ham.
Why any thing. But to the purpose; you were
sent for; and there is a kinde confession in your lookes;
which your modesties haue not craft enough to color,
I know the good King & Queene haue sent for you.
Rosin.
To what end my Lord?
Ham.
That you must teach me: but let mee coniure
you by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of
our youth, by the Obligation of our euer-preserued loue,
and by what more deare, a better proposer could charge
you withall; be euen and direct with me, whether you
were sent for or no.
Rosin.
What say you?
Ham.
Nay then I haue an eye of you: if you loue me
hold not off.
Guil.
My Lord, we were sent for.
Ham.
I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation
preuent your discouery of your secricie to the King and
Queene: moult no feather, I haue of late, but wherefore
I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custome of exercise;
and indeed, it goes so heauenly with my disposition;
that this goodly frame the Earth, seemes to me a sterrill
Promontory; this most excellent Canopy the Ayre,
look you, this braue ore-hanging, this Maiesticall Roofe,
fretted with golden fire: why, it appeares no other thing
to mee, then a foule and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of worke is a man! how Noble in
Reason? how infinite in faculty? in forme and mouing
how expresse and admirable? in Action, how like an Angel?
in apprehension, how like a God? the beauty of the
world, the Parragon of Animals; and yet to me, what is
this Quintessence of Dust? Man delights not me; no,
nor Woman neither; though by your smiling you seeme
to say so.
Rosin.
My Lord, there was no such stuffe in my
thoughts.
Ham.
Why did you laugh, when I said, Man delights
not me?
Rosin.
To thinke, my Lord, if you delight not in Man,
what Lenton entertainment the Players shall receiue
from you: wee coated them on the way, and hither are
they comming to offer you Seruice.
Ham.
He that playes the King shall be welcome; his
Maiesty shall haue Tribute of mee: the aduenturous
Knight shal vse his Foyle and Target: the Louer shall
not sigh gratis, the humorous man shall end his part in
peace: the Clowne shall make those laugh whose lungs
are tickled a'th' sere: and the Lady shall say her minde
freely; or the blanke Verse shall halt for't: what Players
are they?
Rosin.
Euen those you were wont to take delight in
the Tragedians of the City.
Ham.
How chances it they trauaile? their residence
both in reputation and profit was better both
wayes.
Rosin.
I thinke their Inhibition comes by the meanes
of the late Innouation?
Ham.
Doe they hold the same estimation they did
when I was in the City? Are they so follow'd?
Rosin.
No indeed, they are not.
Ham
How comes it? doe they grow rusty?
Rosin.
Nay, their indeauour keepes in the wonted
pace; But there is Sir an ayrie of Children, little
Yases, that crye out on the top of question; and
are most tyrannically clap't for't: these are now the
call them) that many wearing Rapiers, are affraide of
Goose-quils, and dare scarse come thither.
Ham.
What are they Children? Who maintains 'em?
How are they escoted? Will they pursue the Quality no
longer then they can sing? Will they not say afterwards
if they should grow themselues to common Players (as
it is like most if their meanes are no better) their Writers
do them wrong, to make them exclaim against their
owne Succession.
Rosin.
Faith there ha's bene much to do on both sides:
and the Nation holds it no sinne, to tarre them to Controuersie.
There was for a while, no mony bid for argument,
vnlesse the Poet and the Player went to Cuffes in
the Question.
Ham.
Is't possible?
Guild.
Oh there ha's beene much throwing about of
Braines.
Ham,
Do the Boyes carry it away?
Rosin.
I that they do my Lord, Hercules & his load too.
Ham.
It is not strange: for mine Vnckle is King of
Denmarke, and those that would make mowes at him
while my Father liued; giue twenty, forty, an hundred
Ducates a peece, for his picture in Little. There is something
in this more then Naturall, if Philosophie could
finde it out.
Flourish for the Players.
Guil.
There are the Players.
Ham.
Gentlemen, you are welcom to Elsonower: your
hands, come: The appurtenance of Welcome, is Fashion
and Ceremony. Let me comply with you in the Garbe,
left my extent to the Players (which I tell you must shew
fairely outward) should more appeare like entertainment
then yours. You are welcome: but my Vnckle Father,
and Aunt Mother are deceiu'd.
Guil.
In what my deere Lord?
Ham.
I am but mad North, North-West: when the
Winde is Southerly, I know a Hawke from a Handsaw.
Enter Polonius.
Pol.
Well be with you Gentlemen.
Ham.
Hearke you Guildensterne, and you too: at each
eare a hearer: that great Baby you see there, is not yet
out of his swathing clouts.
Rosin.
Happily he's the second time come to them: for
they say, an old man is twice a childe.
Ham.
I will Prophesie. Hee comes to tell me of the
Players. Mark it, you say right Sir: for a Monday morning
'twas so indeed.
Pol.
My Lord, I haue Newes to tell you.
Ham.
My Lord, I haue Newes to tell you.
When Rossius an Actor in Rome—
Pol.
The Actors are come hither my Lord.
Ham.
Buzze, buzze.
Pol.
Vpon mine Honor.
Ham.
Then can each Actor on his Asse—
Polon.
The best Actors in the world, either for Tragedie,
Comedie, Historie, Pastorall: Pastoricall-Comicall-Historicall-Pastorall:
Tragicall-Historicall: Tragicall-Comicall-Historicall-Pastorall:
Scene indiuible, or Poem
vnlimited. Seneca cannot be too heauy, nor Plautus
too light, for the law of Writ, and the Liberty. These are
the onely men.
Ham.
O Iephta Iudge of Israel, what a Treasure had'st
thou?
Pol.
What a Treasure had he, my Lord?
Ham.
Why one faire Daughter, and no more,
The which he loued passing well.
Pol.
Still on my Daughter.
Ham.
Am I not i'th' right old Iephta?
Polon.
If you call me Iephta my Lord, I haue a daughter
that I loue passing well.
Ham.
Nay that followes not.
Polon.
What followes then, my Lord?
Ha.
Why, As by lot, God wot: and then you know, It
came to passe, as most like it was: The first rowe of the
Pons Chanson will shew you more. For looke where my
Abridgements come.
Y'are welcome Masters, welcome all. I am glad to see
thee well: Welcome good Friends. O my olde Friend?
Thy face is valiant since I saw thee last: Com'st thou to
beard me in Denmarke? What, my yong Lady and Mistris?
Byrlady your Ladiship is neerer Heauen then when
I saw you last, by the altitude of a Choppine. Pray God
your voice like a peece of vncurrant Gold be not crack'd
within the ring. Masters, you are all welcome: wee'l e'ne
to't like French Faulconers, flie at any thing we see: wee'l
haue a Speech straight. Come giue vs a tast of your quality:
come, a passionate speech.
1. Play.
What speech, my Lord?
Ham.
I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was
neuer Acted: or if it was, not aboue once, for the Play I
remember pleas'd not the Million, 'twas Cauiarie to the
Generall: but it was (as I receiu'd it, and others, whose
iudgement in such matters, cried in the top of mine) an
excellent Play; well digested in the Scœnes, set downe
with as much modestie, as cunning. I remember one said,
there was no Sallets in the lines, to make the matter sauoury;
nor no matter in the phrase, that might indite the
Author of affectation, but cal'd it an honest method. One
cheefe Speech in it, I cheefely lou'd, 'twas Æneas Tale
to Dido, and thereabout of it especially, where he speaks
of Priams slaughter. If it liue in your memory, begin at
this Line, let me see, let me see: The rugged Pyrrhus like
th'Hyrcanian Beast. It is not so: it begins with Pyrrhus
Blacke as his purpose, did the night resemble
When he lay couched in the Ominous Horse,
Hath now this dread and blacke Complexion smear'd
With Heraldry more dismall: Head to foote
Now is he to take Geulles, horridly Trick'd
With blood of Fathers, Mothers, Daughters, Sonnes,
Bak'd and impasted with the parching streets,
That lend a tyrannous, and damned light
To their vilde Murthers, roasted in wrath and fire,
And thus o're-sized with coagulate gore,
VVith eyes like Carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus
Old Grandsire Priam seekes.
Pol.
Fore God, my Lord, well spoken, with good accent,
and good discretion.
1. Player.
Anon he findes him,
Striking too short at Greekes. His anticke Sword,
Rebellious to his Arme, lyes where it falles
Repugnant to command: vnequall match,
Pyrrhus at Priam driues, in Rage strikes wide:
But with the whiffe and winde of his fell Sword,
Th'vnnerued Father fals. Then senselesse Illium,
Seeming to feele his blow, with flaming top
Stoopes to his Bace, and with a hideous crash
Takes Prisoner Pyrrhus eare. For loe, his Sword
Which was declining on the Milkie head
Of Reuerend Priam, seem'd i'th' Ayre to sticke:
And like a Newtrall to his will and matter, did nothing.
But as we often see against some storme,
A silence in the Heauens, the Racke stand still,
The bold windes speechlesse, and the Orbe below
As hush as death: Anon the dreadfull Thunder
Doth rend the Region. So after Pyrrhus pause,
A rowsed Vengeance sets him new a-worke,
And neuer did the Cyclops hammers fall
On Mars his Armours, forg'd for proofe Eterne,
With lesse remorse then Pyrrhus bleeding sword
Now falles on Priam.
Out, out, thou Strumpet-Fortune, all you Gods,
In generall Synod take away her power:
Breake all the Spokes and Fallies from her wheele,
And boule the round Naue downe the hill of Heauen,
As low as to the Fiends.
Pol.
This is too long.
Ham.
It shall to'th Barbars, with your beard. Prythee
say on: He's for a Iigge, or a tale of Baudry, or hee
sleepes. Say on; come to Hecuba.
1. Play.
But who, O who, had seen the inobled Queen.
Ham.
The inobled Queene?
Pol.
That's good: Inobled Queene is good.
1. Play.
Run bare-foot vp and downe,
Threatning the flame
With Bisson Rheume: A clout about that head,
Where late the Diadem stood, and for a Robe
About her lanke and all ore-teamed Loines,
A blanket in th'Alarum of feare caught vp.
Who this had seene, with tongue in Venome steep'd,
'Gainst Fortunes State, would Treason haue pronounc'd?
But if the Gods themselues did see her then,
When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport
In mincing with his Sword her Husbands limbes,
The instant Burst of Clamour that she made
(Vnlesse things mortall moue them not at all)
Would haue made milche the Burning eyes of Heauen,
And passion in the Gods.
Pol.
Looke where he ha's not turn'd his colour, and
ha's teares in's eyes. Pray you no more.
Ham.
'Tis well, Ile haue thee speake out the rest,
soone. Good my Lord, will you see the Players wel bestow'd.
Do ye heare, let them be well vs'd: for they are
the Abstracts and breefe Chronicles of the time. After
your death, you were better haue a bad Epitaph, then
their ill report while you liued.
Pol.
My Lord, I will vse them according to their desart.
Ham.
Gods bodykins man, better. Vse euerie man
after his desart, and who should scape whipping: vse
them after your own Honor and Dignity. The lesse they
deserue, the more merit is in your bountie. Take them
in.
Pol.
Come sirs.
Ham.
Follow him Friends: wee'l heare a play to morrow.
Dost thou heare me old Friend, can you play the
murther of Gonzago?
Play.
I my Lord.
Ham.
Wee'l ha't to morrow night. You could for a
need study a speech of some dosen or sixteene lines, which
I would set downe, and insert in't? Could ye not?
Play.
I my Lord.
Ham.
Very well. Follow that Lord, and looke you
mock him not. My good Friends, Ile leaue you til night
you are welcome to Elsonower?
Rosin.
Good my Lord.
Exeunt.
Manet Hamlet.
Ham.
I so, God buy'ye: Now I am alone.
Oh what a Rogue and Pesant slaue am I?
Is it not monstrous that this Player heere,
But in a Fixion, in a dreame of Passion,
Could force his soule so to his whole conceit,
That from her working, all his visage warm'd;
Teares in his eyes, distraction in's Aspect,
A broken voyce, and his whole Function suiting
With Formes, to his Conceit? And all for nothing?
For Hecuba?
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weepe for her? What would he doe,
Had he the Motiue and the Cue for passion
That I haue? He would drowne the Stage with teares,
And cleaue the generall eare with horrid speech:
Make mad the guilty, and apale the free,
Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed,
The very faculty of Eyes and Eares. Yet I,
A dull and muddy-metled Rascall, peake
Like Iohn a-dreames, vnpregnant of my cause,
And can say nothing: No, not for a King,
Vpon whose property, and most deere life,
A damn'd defeate was made. Am I a Coward?
Who calles me Villaine? breakes my pate a-crosse?
Pluckes off my Beard, and blowes it in my face?
Tweakes me by'th' Nose? giues me the Lye i'th' Throate,
As deepe as to the Lungs? Who does me this?
Ha? Why I should take it: for it cannot be,
But I am Pigeon-Liuer'd, and lacke Gall
To make Oppression bitter, or ere this,
I should haue fatted all the Region Kites
With this Slaues Offall, bloudy: a Bawdy villaine,
Remorselesse, Treacherous, Letcherous, kindles villaine!
Oh Vengeance!
Who? What an Asse am I? I sure, this is most braue,
That I, the Sonne of the Deere murthered,
Prompted to my Reuenge by Heauen, and Hell,
Must (like a Whore) vnpacke my heart with words,
And fall a Cursing like a very Drab,
A Scullion? Fye vpon't: Foh. About my Braine.
I haue heard, that guilty Creatures sitting at a Play,
Haue by the very cunning of the Scœne,
Bene strooke so to the soule, that presently
They haue proclaim'd their Malefactions.
For Murther, though it haue no tongue, will speake
With most myraculous Organ. Ile haue these Players,
Play something like the murder of my Father,
Before mine Vnkle. Ile obserue his lookes,
Ile tent him to the quicke: If he but blench
I know my course. The Spirit that I haue seene
May be the Diuell, and the Diuel hath power
T'assume a pleasing shape, yea and perhaps
Out of my Weaknesse, and my Melancholly,
As he is very potent with such Spirits,
Abuses me to damne me. Ile haue grounds
More Relatiue then this: The Play's the thing,
Wherein Ile catch the Conscience of the King.
Exit
Enter King, Queene, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosincrance, Guildenstern, and Lords.
King.
And can you by no drift of circumstance
Get from him why he puts on this Confusion:
Grating so harshly all his dayes of quiet
Rosin.
He does confesse he feeles himselfe distracted,
But from what cause he will by no meanes speake.
Guil.
Nor do we finde him forward to be sounded,
But with a crafty Madnesse keepes aloofe:
When we would bring him on to some Confession
Of his true state.
Qu.
Did he receiue you well?
Rosin.
Most like a Gentleman.
Guild.
But with much forcing of his disposition.
Rosin.
Niggard of question, but of our demands
Most free in his reply.
Qu.
Did you assay him to any pastime?
Rosin.
Madam, it so fell out, that certaine Players
We ore-wrought on the way: of these we told him,
And there did seeme in him a kinde of ioy
To heare of it: They are about the Court,
And (as I thinke) they haue already order
This night to play before him.
Pol.
'Tis most true:
And he beseech'd me to intreate your Maiesties
To heare, and see the matter.
King.
With all my heart, and it doth much content me
To heare him so inclin'd. Good Gentlemen,
Giue him a further edge, and driue his purpose on
To these delights.
Rosin.
We shall my Lord.
Exeunt.
King.
Sweet Gertrude leaue vs too,
For we haue closely sent for Hamlet hither,
That he, as 'twere by accident, may there
Affront Ophelia. Her Father, and my selfe (lawful espials)
Will so bestow our selues, that seeing vnseene
We may of their encounter frankely iudge,
And gather by him, as he is behaued,
If't be th'affliction of his loue, or no.
That thus he suffers for.
Qu.
I shall obey you,
And for your part Ophelia, I do wish
That your good Beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlets wildenesse: so shall I hope your Vertues
Will bring him to his wonted way againe,
To both your Honors.
Ophe.
Madam, I wish it may.
Pol.
Ophelia, walke you heere. Gracious so please ye
We will bestow our selues: Reade on this booke,
That shew of such an exercise may colour
Your lonelinesse. We are oft too blame in this,
'Tis too much prou'd, that with Deuotions visage,
And pious Action, we do surge o're
The diuell himselfe.
King.
Oh 'tis true:
How smart a lash that speech doth giue my Conscience?
The Harlots Cheeke beautied with plaist'ring Art
Is not more vgly to the thing that helpes it,
Then is my deede, to my most painted word.
Oh heauie burthen!
Pol.
I heare him comming, let's withdraw my Lord.
Exeunt.
Enter Hamlet.
Ham.
To be, or not to be, that is the Question:
Whether 'tis Nobler in the minde to suffer
The Slings and Arrowes of outragious Fortune,
Or to take Armes against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to dye, to sleepe
No more; and by a sleepe, to say we end
The Heart-ake, and the thousand Naturall shockes
That Flesh is heyre too? 'Tis a consummation
Deuoutly to be wish'd. To dye to sleepe,
To sleepe, perchance to Dreame; I, there's the rub,
For in that sleepe of death, what dreames may come,
When we haue shufflel'd off this mortall coile,
Must giue vs pawse. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would beare the Whips and Scornes of time,
The Oppressors wrong, the poore mans Contumely,
The pangs of dispriz'd Loue, the Lawes delay,
The insolence of Office, and the Spurnes
That patient merit of the vnworthy takes,
When he himselfe might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would these Fardles beare
To grunt and sweat vnder a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The vndiscouered Countrey, from whose Borne
No Traueller returnes. Puzels the will,
And makes vs rather beare those illes we haue,
Then flye to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of vs all,
And thus the Natiue hew of Resolution
Is sicklied o're, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprizes of great pith and moment,
With this regard their Currants turne away,
And loose the name of Action. Soft you now,
The faire Ophelia? Nimph, in thy Orizons
Be all my sinnes remembred.
Ophe.
Good my Lord,
How does your Honor for this many a day?
Ham.
I humbly thanke you: well, well, well.
Ophe.
My Lord, I haue Remembrances of yours,
That I haue longed long to re-deliuer.
I pray you now, receiue them.
Ham.
No, no, I neuer gaue you ought.
Ophe.
My honor'd Lord, I know right well you did,
And with them words of so sweet breath compos'd,
As made the things more rich, then perfume left:
Take these againe, for to the Noble minde
Rich gifts wax poore, when giuers proue vnkinde.
There my Lord.
Ham.
Ha, ha: Are you honest?
Ophe.
My Lord.
Ham.
Are you faire?
Ophe.
What meanes your Lordship?
Ham.
That if you be honest and faire, your Honesty
should admit no discourse to your Beautie.
Ophe.
Could Beautie my Lord, haue better Comerce
then your Honestie?
Ham.
I trulie: for the power of Beautie, will sooner
transforme Honestie from what it is, to a Bawd, then the
force of Honestie can translate Beautie into his likenesse.
This was sometime a Paradox, but now the time giues it
proofe. I did loue you once.
Ophe.
Indeed my Lord, you made me beleeue so.
Ham.
You should not haue beleeued me. For vertue
cannot so innocculate our old stocke, but we shall rellish
of it. I loued you not.
Ophe.
I was the more deceiued.
Ham.
Get thee to a Nunnerie. Why would'st thou
be a breeder of Sinners? I am my selfe indifferent honest,
but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better
my Mother had not borne me. I am very prowd, reuengefull,
Ambitious, with more offences at my becke,
then I haue thoughts to put them in imagination, to giue
them shape, or time to acte them in. What should such
We are arrant Knaues all, beleeue none of vs. Goe thy
wayes to a Nunnery. Where's your Father?
Ophe.
At home, my Lord.
Ham.
Let the doores be shut vpon him, that he may
play the Foole no way, but in's owne house. Farewell.
Ophe.
O helpe him, you sweet Heauens.
Ham.
If thou doest Marry, Ile giue thee this Plague
for thy Dowrie. Be thou as chast as Ice, as pure as Snow,
thou shalt not escape Calumny. Get thee to a Nunnery.
Go, 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. Farwell.
Ophe.
O heauenly Powers, restore him.
Ham.
I haue heard of your pratlings too wel enough.
God has giuen you one pace, and you make your selfe another:
you gidge, you amble, and you lispe, and nickname
Gods creatures, and make your Wantonnesse, your Ignorance.
Go too, Ile no more on't, it hath made me mad.
I say, we will haue no more Marriages. Those that are
married already, all but one shall liue, the rest shall keep
as they are. To a Nunnery, go.
Ophe.
O what a Noble minde is heere o're-throwne?
The Courtiers, Soldiers, Schollers: Eye, tongue, sword,
Th'expectansie and Rose of the faire State,
The glasse of Fashion, and the mould of Forme,
Th'obseru'd of all Obseruers, quite, quite downe.
Haue I of Ladies most deiect and wretched,
That suck'd the Honie of his Musicke Vowes:
Now see that Noble, and most Soueraigne Reason,
Like sweet Bels iangled out of tune, and harsh,
That vnmatch'd Forme and Feature of blowne youth,
Blasted with extasie. Oh woe is me,
T'haue seene what I haue seene: see what I see.
Enter King, and Polonius.
King.
Loue? His affections do not that way tend,
Nor what he spake, though it lack'd Forme a little,
Was not like Madnesse. There's something in his soule?
O're which his Melancholly sits on brood,
And I do doubt the hatch, and the disclose
Will be some danger, which to preuent
I haue in quicke determination
Thus set it downe. He shall with speed to England
For the demand of our neglected Tribute:
Haply the Seas and Countries different
With variable Obiects, shall expell
This something setled matter in his heart:
Whereon his Braines still beating, puts him thus
From fashion of himselfe. What thinke you on't?
Pol.
It shall do well. But yet do I beleeue
The Origin and Commencement of this greefe
Sprung from neglected loue. How now Ophelia?
You neede not tell vs, what Lord Hamlet saide,
We heard it all. My Lord, do as you please,
But if you hold it fit after the Play,
Let his Queene Mother all alone intreat him
To shew his Greefes: let her be round with him,
And Ile be plac'd so, please you in the eare
Of all their Conference. If she finde him not,
To England send him: Or confine him where
Your wisedome best shall thinke.
King.
It shall be so:
Madnesse in great Ones, must not vnwatch'd go.
Exeunt.
Enter Hamlet, and two or three of the Players.
Ham.
Speake the Speech I pray you, as I pronounc'd
it to you trippingly on the Tongue: But if you mouth it,
as many of your Players do, I had as liue the Town-Cryer
had spoke my Lines: Nor do not saw the Ayre too much
your hand thus, but vse all gently; for in the verie Torrent,
Tempest, and (as I may say) the Whirle-winde of
Passion, you must acquire and beget a Temperance that
may giue it Smoothnesse. O it offends mee to the Soule,
to see a robustious Pery-wig-pated Fellow, teare a Passion
to tatters, to verie ragges, to split the eares of the
Groundlings: who (for the most part) are capeable of
nothing, but inexplicable dumbe shewes, & noise: I could
haue such a Fellow whipt for o're-doing Termagant: it
out-Herod's Herod. Pray you auoid it.
Player.
I warrant your Honor.
Ham.
Be not too tame neyther: but let your owne
Discretion be your Tutor. Sute the Action to the Word,
the Word to the Action, with this speciall obseruance:
That you ore-stop not the modestie of Nature; for any
thing so ouer-done, is frō the purpose of Playing, whose
end both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twer
the Mirrour vp to Nature; to shew Vertue her owne
Feature, Scorne her owne Image, and the verie Age and
Bodie of the Time, his forme and pressure. Now, this
ouer-done, or come tardie off, though it make the vnskilfull
laugh, cannot but make the Iudicious greeue; The
censure of the which One, must in your allowance o're-way
a whole Theater of Others. Oh, there bee Players
that I haue seene Play, and heard others praise, and that
highly (not to speake it prophanely) that neyther hauing
the accent of Christians, nor the gate of Christian, Pagan,
or Norman, haue so strutted and bellowed, that I haue
thought some of Natures Iouerney-men had made men,
and not made them well, they imitated Humanity so abhominably.
Play.
I hope we haue reform'd that indifferently with
vs, Sir.
Ham.
O reforme it altogether. And let those that
play your Clownes, speake no more then is set downe for
them. For there be of them, that will themselues laugh,
to set on some quantitie of barren Spectators to laugh
too, though in the meane time, some necessary Question
of the Play be then to be considered: that's Villanous, &
shewes a most pittiful Ambition in the Foole that vses
it. Go make you readie.
Enter Polonius, Rosincrance, and Guildensterne.
How now my Lord,
Will the King heare this peece of Worke?
Pol.
And the Queene too, and that presently.
Ham.
Bid the Players make hast.
Exit Polonius.
Will you two helpe to hasten them?
Both.
We will my Lord.
Exeunt.
Enter Horatio.
Ham.
What hoa, Horatio?
Hora.
Heere sweet Lord, at your Seruice.
Ham.
Horatio, thou art eene as iust a man
As ere my Conuersation coap'd withall.
Hora.
O my deere Lord.
Ham.
Nay, do not thinke I flatter:
For what aduancement may I hope from thee,
That no Reuennew hast, but thy good spirits
No, let the Candied tongue, like absurd pompe,
And crooke the pregnant Hindges of the knee,
Where thrift may follow faining? Dost thou heare,
Since my deere Soule was Mistris of my choyse,
And could of men distinguish, her election
Hath seal'd thee for her selfe. For thou hast bene
As one in suffering all, that suffers nothing.
A man that Fortunes buffets, and Rewards
Hath 'tane with equall Thankes. And blest are those,
Whose Blood and Iudgement are so well co-mingled,
That they are not a Pipe for Fortunes finger,
To sound what stop she please. Giue me that man,
That is not Passions Slaue, and I will weare him
In my hearts Core: I, in my Heart of heart,
As I do thee. Something too much of this.
There is a Play to night before the King,
One Scœne of it comes neere the Circumstance
Which I haue told thee, of my Fathers death.
I prythee, when thou see'st that Acte a-foot,
Euen with the verie Comment of my Soule
Obserue mine Vnkle: If his occulted guilt,
Do not it selfe vnkennell in one speech,
It is a damned Ghost that we haue seene:
And my Imaginations are as foule
As Vulcans Stythe. Giue him needfull note,
For I mine eyes will riuet to his Face:
And after we will both our iudgements ioyne,
To censure of his seeming.
Hora.
Well my Lord.
If he steale ought the whil'st this Play is Playing,
And scape detecting, I will pay the Theft.
Enter King, Queene, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosincrance, Guildensterne, and other Lords attendant, with his Guard carrying Torches. Danish March. Sound a Flourish.
Ham.
They are comming to the Play: I must be idle.
Get you a place.
King.
How fares our Cosin Hamlet?
Ham.
Excellent Ifaith, of the Camelions dish: I eate
the Ayre promise-cramm'd, you cannot feed Capons so.
King.
I haue nothing with this answer Hamlet, these
words are not mine.
Ham.
No, nor mine. Now my Lord, you plaid once
i'th' Vniuersity, you say?
Polon.
That I did my Lord, and was accounted a good
Actor.
Ham.
And what did you enact?
Pol.
I did enact Iulius Cæsar, I was kill'd i'th' Capitol:
Brutus kill'd me.
Ham.
It was a bruite part of him, to kill so Capitall a
Calfe there. Be the Players ready?
Rosin.
I my Lord, they stay vpon your patience.
Qu.
Come hither my good Hamlet, sit by me.
Ha.
No good Mother, here's Mettle more attractiue.
Pol.
Oh ho, do you marke that?
Ham.
Ladie, shall I lye in your Lap?
Ophe.
No my Lord.
Ham.
I meane, my Head vpon your Lap?
Ophe.
I my Lord.
Ham.
Do you thinke I meant Country matters?
Ophe.
I thinke nothing, my Lord.
Ham.
That's faire thought to ly between Maids legs
Ophe.
What is my Lord?
Ham.
Nothing.
Ophe.
You are merrie, my Lord?
Ham.
Who I?
Ophe.
I my Lord.
Ham.
Oh God, your onely Iigge-maker: what should
a man do, but be merrie. For looke you how cheerefully
my Mother lookes, and my Father dyed within's two
Houres.
Ophe.
Nay, 'tis twice two moneths, my Lord.
Ham.
So long? Nay then let the Diuel weare blacke,
for Ile haue a suite of Sables. Oh Heauens! dye two moneths
ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's hope, a
great mans Memorie, may out-liue his life halfe a yeare:
But byrlady he must builde Churches then: or else shall
he suffer not thinking on, with the Hoby-horsse, whose
Epitaph is, For o, For o, the Hoby-horse is forgot.
Hoboyes play. The dumbe shew enters.
Enter a King and Queene, very louingly; the Queene embracing him. She kneeles, and makes shew of Protestation vnto him. He takes her vp, and declines his head vpon her neck. Layes him downe vpon a Banke of Flowers. She seeing him a-sleepe, leaues him. Anon comes in a Fellow, takes off his Crowne, kisses it, and powres poyson in the Kings eares, and Exits. The Queene returnes, findes the King dead, and makes passionate Action. The Poysoner, with some two or three Mutes comes in againe, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away: The Poysoner Wooes the Queene with Gifts, she seemes loath and vnwilling awhile, but in the end, accepts his loue.
Exeunt
Ophe.
What meanes this, my Lord?
Ham.
Marry this is Miching Malicho, that meanes
Mischeefe.
Ophe.
Belike this shew imports the Argument of the
Play?
Ham.
We shall know by these Fellowes: the Players
cannot keepe counsell, they'l tell all.
Ophe.
Will they tell vs what this shew meant?
Ham.
I, or any shew that you'l shew him. Bee not
you asham'd to shew, hee'l not shame to tell you what it
meanes.
Ophe.
You are naught, you are naught, Ile marke the
Play.
Enter Prologue.
For vs, and for our Tragedie,
Heere stooping to your Clemencie:
We begge your hearing Patientlie.
Ham.
Is this a Prologue, or the Poesie of a Ring?
Ophe.
'Tis briefe my Lord.
Ham.
As Womans loue.
Enter King and his Queene.
King.
Full thirtie times hath Phœbus Cart gon round,
Neptunes salt Wash, and Tellus Orbed ground:
And thirtie dozen Moones with borrowed sheene,
About the World haue times twelue thirties beene,
Since loue our hearts, and Hymen did our hands
Vnite comutuall, in most sacred Bands.
Bap.
So many iournies may the Sunne and Moone
Make vs againe count o're, ere loue be done.
But woe is me, you are so sicke of late,
So farre from cheere, and from your forme state,
That I distrust you: yet though I distrust,
Discomfort you (my Lord) it nothing must:
For womens Feare and Loue, holds quantitie,
Now what my loue is, proofe hath made you know,
And as my Loue is siz'd, my Feare is so.
King.
Faith I must leaue thee Loue, and shortly too:
My operant Powers my Functions leaue to do:
And thou shalt liue in this faire world behinde,
Honour'd, belou'd, and haply, one as kinde.
For Husband shalt thou—
Bap.
Oh confound the rest:
Such Loue, must needs be Treason in my brest:
In second Husband, let me be accurst,
None wed the second, but who kill'd the first.
Ham.
Wormwood, Wormwood.
Bapt.
The instances that second Marriage moue,
Are base respects of Thrift, but none of Loue.
A second time, I kill my Husband dead,
When second Husband kisses me in Bed.
King.
I do beleeue you. Think what now you speak:
But what we do determine, oft we breake:
Purpose is but the slaue to Memorie,
Of violent Birth, but poore validitie:
Which now like Fruite vnripe stickes on the Tree,
But fall vnshaken, when they mellow bee.
Most necessary 'tis, that we forget
To pay our selues, what to our selues is debt:
What to our selues in passion we propose,
The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
The violence of other Greefe or Ioy,
Their owne ennactors with themselues destroy:
Where Ioy most Reuels, Greefe doth most lament;
Greefe ioyes, Ioy greeues on slender accident.
This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange
That euen our Loues should with our Fortunes change.
For 'tis a question left vs yet to proue,
Whether Loue lead Fortune, or else Fortune Loue.
The great man downe you marke his fauourites flies,
The poore aduanc'd, makes Friends of Enemies:
And hitherto doth Loue on Fortune tend,
For who not needs, shall neuer lacke a Frend:
And who in want a hollow Friend doth try,
Directly seasons him his Enemie.
But orderly to end, where I begun,
Our Willes and Fates do so contrary run,
That our Deuices still are ouerthrowne,
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our owne.
So thinke thou wilt no second Husband wed.
But die thy thoughts, when thy first Lord is dead.
Bap.
Nor Earth to giue me food, nor Heauen light,
Sport and repose locke from me day and night:
Each opposite that blankes the face of ioy,
Meet what I would haue well, and it destroy:
Both heere, and hence, pursue me lasting strife,
If once a Widdow, euer I be Wife.
Ham.
If she should breake it now.
King.
'Tis deepely sworne:
Sweet, leaue me heere a while,
My spirits grow dull, and faine I would beguile
The tedious day with sleepe.
Qu.
Sleepe rocke thy Braine,
Sleepes
And neuer come mischance betweene vs twaine.
Exit
Ham.
Madam, how like you this Play?
Qu.
The Lady protests to much me thinkes.
Ham.
Oh but shee'l keepe her word.
King.
Haue you heard the Argument, is there no Offence
in't?
Ham.
No, no, they do but iest, poyson in iest, no Offence
i'th' world.
King.
What do you call the Play?
Ham.
The Mouse-trap: Marry how? Tropically:
This Play is the Image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago
is the Dukes name, his wife Baptista: you shall see
anon: 'tis a knauish peece of worke: But what o'that?
Your Maiestie, and wee that haue free soules, it touches
vs not: let the gall'd iade winch: our withers are vnrung.
This is one Lucianus nephew to the King.
Ophe.
You are a good Chorus, my Lord.
Ham.
I could interpret betweene you and your loue:
if I could see the Puppets dallying.
Ophe.
You are keene my Lord, you are keene.
Ham.
It would cost you a groaning, to take off my
edge.
Ophe.
Still better and worse.
Ham.
So you mistake Husbands.
Begin Murderer. Pox, leaue thy damnable Faces, and
begin. Come, the croaking Rauen doth bellow for Reuenge.
Lucian.
Thoughts blacke, hands apt,
Drugges fit, and Time agreeing:
Confederate season, else, no Creature seeing:
Thou mixture ranke, of Midnight Weeds collected,
With Hecats Ban, thrice blasted, thrice infected,
Thy naturall Magicke, and dire propertie,
On wholsome life, vsurpe immediately.
Powres the poyson in his eares.
Ham.
He poysons him i'th' Garden for's estate: His
name's Gonzago: the Story is extant and writ in choyce
Italian. You shall see anon how the Murtherer gets the
loue of Gonzago's wife.
Ophe.
The King rises.
Ham.
What frighted with false fire.
Qu.
How fares my Lord?
Pol.
Giue o're the Play.
King.
Giue me some Light. Away.
All.
Lights, Lights, Lights.
Exeunt
Manet Hamlet & Horatio.
Ham.
Why let the strucken Deere go weepe,
The Hart vngalled play:
For some must watch, while some must sleepe;
So runnes the world away.
Would not this Sir, and a Forrest of Feathers, if the rest of
my Fortunes turne Turke with me; with two Prouinciall
Roses on my rac'd Shooes, get me a Fellowship in a crie
of Players sir.
Hor.
Halfe a share.
Ham.
A whole one I,
For thou dost know: Oh Damon deere,
This Realme dismantled was of Ioue himselfe,
And now reignes heere.
A verie verie Paiocke.
Hora.
You might haue Rim'd.
Ham.
Oh good Horatio, Ile take the Ghosts word for
a thousand pound. Did'st perceiue?
Hora.
Verie well my Lord.
Ham.
Vpon the talke of the poysoning?
Hora.
I did verie well note him.
Enter Rosincrance and Guildensterne.
Ham.
Oh, ha? Come some Musick. Come ye Recorders:
For if the King like not the Comedie,
Why then belike he likes it not perdie.
Come some Musicke.
Guild.
Good my Lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.
Sir, a whole History.
Guild.
The King, sir.
Ham.
I sir, what of him?
Guild.
Is in his retyrement, maruellous distemper'd.
Ham.
With drinke Sir?
Guild.
No my Lord, rather with choller.
Ham.
Your wisedome should shew it selfe more richer,
to signifie this to his Doctor: for for me to put him
to his Purgation, would perhaps plundge him into farre
more Choller.
Guild.
Good my Lord put your discourse into some
frame, and start not so wildely from my affayre.
Ham.
I am tame Sir, pronounce.
Guild.
The Queene your Mother, in most great affliction
of spirit, hath sent me to you.
Ham.
You are welcome.
Guild.
Nay, good my Lord, this courtesie is not of
the right breed. If it shall please you to make me a wholsome
answer, I will doe your Mothers command'ment:
if not, your pardon, and my returne shall bee the end of
my Businesse.
Ham.
Sir, I cannot.
Guild.
What, my Lord?
Ham.
Make you a wholsome answere: my wits diseas'd.
But sir, such answers as I can make, you shal command:
or rather you say, my Mother: therfore no more
but to the matter. My Mother you say.
Rosin.
Then thus she sayes: your behauior hath stroke
her into amazement, and admiration.
Ham.
Oh wonderfull Sonne, that can so astonish a
Mother. But is there no sequell at the heeles of this Mothers
admiration?
Rosin.
She desires to speake with you in her Closset,
ere you go to bed.
Ham.
We shall obey, were she ten times our Mother.
Haue you any further Trade with vs?
Rosin.
My Lord, you once did loue me.
Ham.
So I do still, by these pickers and stealers.
Rosin.
Good my Lord, what is your cause of distemper?
You do freely barre the doore of your owne Libertie,
if you deny your greefes to your Friend.
Ham.
Sir I lacke Aduancement.
Rosin.
How can that be, when you haue the voyce of
the King himselfe, for your Succession in Denmarke?
Ham.
I, but while the grasse growes, the Prouerbe is
something musty.
O the Recorder. Let me see, to withdraw with you, why
do you go about to recouer the winde of mee, as if you
would driue me into a toyle?
Guild.
O my Lord, if my Dutie be too bold, my loue
is too vnmannerly.
Ham.
I do not well vnderstand that. Will you play
vpon this Pipe?
Guild.
My Lord, I cannot.
Ham.
I pray you.
Guild.
Beleeue me, I cannot.
Ham.
I do beseech you.
Guild.
I know no touch of it, my Lord.
Ham.
'Tis as easie as lying: gouerne these Ventiges
with your finger and thumbe, giue it breath with your
mouth, and it will discourse most excellent Musicke.
Looke you, these are the stoppes.
Guild.
But these cannot I command to any vtterance
of hermony. I haue not the skill.
Ham.
Why looke you now, how vnworthy a thing
you make of me: you would play vpon mee; you would
seeme to know my stops: you would pluck out the heart
of my Mysterie; you would sound mee from my lowest
Note, to the top of my Compasse: and there is much Musicke,
excellent Voice, in this little Organe, yet cannot
you make it. Why do you thinke, that I am easier to bee
plaid on, then a Pipe? Call me what Instrument you will,
though you can fret me, you cannot play vpon me. God
blesse you Sir.
Enter Polonius.
Polon.
My Lord; the Queene would speak with you,
and presently.
Ham.
Do you see that Clowd? that's almost in shape
like a Camell.
Polon,
By'th' Misse, and it's like a Camell indeed.
Ham.
Me thinkes it is like a Weazell.
Polon.
It is black'd like a Weazell.
Ham.
Or like a Whale?
Polon.
Verie like a Whale.
Ham.
Then will I come to my Mother, by and by:
They foole me to the top of my bent.
I will come by and by.
Polon.
I will say so.
Exit.
Ham.
By and by, is easily said. Leaue me Friends:
'Tis now the verie witching time of night,
When Churchyards yawne, and Hell it selfe breaths out
Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood,
And do such bitter businesse as the day
Would quake to looke on. Soft now, to my Mother:
Oh Heart, loose not thy Nature; let not euer
The Soule of Nero, enter this firme bosome:
Let me be cruell, not vnnaturall,
I will speake Daggers to her, but vse none:
My Tongue and Soule in this be Hypocrites.
How in my words someuer she be shent,
To giue them Seales, neuer my Soule consent.
Enter King, Rosincrance, and Guildensterne.
King.
I like him not, nor stands it safe with vs,
To let his madnesse range. Therefore prepare you,
I your Commission will forthwith dispatch,
And he to England shall along with you:
The termes of our estate, may not endure
Hazard so dangerous as doth hourely grow
Out of his Lunacies.
Guild.
We will our selues prouide:
Most holie and Religious feare it is
To keepe those many many bodies safe
That liue and feede vpon your Maiestie.
Rosin.
The single
And peculiar life is bound
With all the strength and Armour of the minde,
To keepe it selfe from noyance: but much more,
That Spirit, vpon whose spirit depends and rests
The liues of many, the cease of Maiestie
Dies not alone; but like a Gulfe doth draw
What's neere it, with it. It is a massie wheele
Fixt on the Somnet of the highest Mount,
To whose huge Spoakes, ten thousand lesser things
Are mortiz'd and adioyn'd: which when it falles,
Each small annexment, pettie consequence
Attends the boystrous Ruine. Neuer alone
Did the King sighe, but with a generall grone.
King.
Arme you, I pray you to this speedie Voyage;
For we will Fetters put vpon this feare,
Both.
We will haste vs.
Exeunt Gent.
Enter Polonius.
Pol.
My Lord, he's going to his Mothers Closset:
Behinde the Arras Ile conuey my selfe
To heare the Processe. Ile warrant shee'l tax him home,
And as you said, and wisely was it said,
'Tis meete that some more audience then a Mother,
Since Nature makes them partiall, should o're-heare
The speech of vantage. Fare you well my Liege,
Ile call vpon you ere you go to bed,
And tell you what I know.
King.
Thankes deere my Lord.
Oh my offence is ranke, it smels to heauen,
It hath the primall eldest curse vpon't,
A Brothers murther. Pray can I not,
Though inclination be as sharpe as will:
My stronger guilt, defeats my strong intent,
And like a man to double businesse bound,
I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
And both neglect; what if this cursed hand
Were thicker then it selfe with Brothers blood,
Is there not Raine enough in the sweet Heauens
To wash it white as Snow? Whereto serues mercy,
But to confront the visage of Offence?
And what's in Prayer, but this two-fold force,
To be fore-stalled ere we come to fall,
Or pardon'd being downe? Then Ile looke vp,
My fault is past. But oh, what forme of Prayer
Can serue my turne? Forgiue me my foule Murther:
That cannot be, since I am still possest
Of those effects for which I did the Murther.
My Crowne, mine owne Ambition, and my Queene:
May one be pardon'd, and retaine th'offence?
In the corrupted currants of this world,
Offences gilded hand may shoue by Iustice,
And oft 'tis seene, the wicked prize it selfe
Buyes out the Law; but 'tis not so aboue,
There is no shuffling, there the Action lyes
In his true Nature, and we our selues compell'd
Euen to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
To giue in euidence. What then? What rests?
Try what Repentance can. What can it not?
Yet what can it, when one cannot repent?
Oh wretched state! Oh bosome, blacke as death!
Oh limed soule, that strugling to be free,
Art more ingag'd: Helpe Angels, make assay:
Bow stubborne knees, and heart with strings of Steele,
Be soft as sinewes of the new-borne Babe,
All may be well.
Enter Hamlet.
Ham.
Now might I do it pat, now he is praying,
And now Ile doo't, and so he goes to Heauen,
And so am I reueng'd: that would be scann'd,
A Villaine killes my Father, and for that
I his foule Sonne, do this same Villaine send
To heauen. Oh this is hyre and Sallery, not Reuenge.
He tooke my Father grossely, full of bread,
With all his Crimes broad blowne, as fresh as May,
And how his Audit stands, who knowes, saue Heauen:
But in our circumstance and course of thought
'Tis heauie with him: and am I then reueng'd,
To take him in the purging of his Soule,
When he is fit and season'd for his passage? No.
Vp Sword, and know thou a more horrid hent
When he is drunke asleepe: or in his Rage,
Or in th'incestuous pleasure of his bed,
At gaming, swearing, or about some acte
That ha's no rellish of Saluation in't,
Then trip him, that his heeles may kicke at Heauen,
And that his Soule may be as damn'd and blacke
As Hell, whereto it goes. My Mother stayes,
This Physicke but prolongs thy sickly dayes.
Exit.
King.
My words flye vp, my thoughts remain below,
Words without thoughts, neuer to Heauen go.
Exit.
Enter Queene and Polonius.
Pol.
He will come straight:
Looke you lay home to him,
Tell him his prankes haue been too broad to beare with,
And that your Grace hath scree'nd, and stoode betweene
Much heate, and him. Ile silence me e'ene heere:
Pray you be round with him.
Ham.
within.
Mother, mother, mother.
Qu.
Ile warrant you, feare me not.
Withdraw, I heare him comming.
Enter Hamlet.
Ham.
Now Mother, what's the matter?
Qu.
Hamlet, thou hast thy Father much offended.
Ham.
Mother, you haue my Father much offended.
Qu.
Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
Ham.
Go, go, you question with an idle tongue.
Qu.
Why how now Hamlet?
Ham.
Whats the matter now?
Qu.
Haue you forgot me?
Ham.
No by the Rood, not so:
You are the Queene, your Husbands Brothers wife,
But would you were not so. You are my Mother.
Qu.
Nay, then Ile set those to you that can speake.
Ham.
Come, come, and sit you downe, you shall not
boudge:
Where you may see the inmost part of you?
Qu.
What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murther me?
Helpe, helpe, hoa.
Pol.
What hoa, helpe, helpe, helpe.
Ham.
How now, a Rat? dead for a Ducate, dead.
Pol.
Oh I am slaine.
Killes Polonius.
Qu.
Oh me, what hast thou done?
Ham.
Nay I know not, is it the King?
Qu.
Oh what a rash, and bloody deed is this?
Ham.
A bloody deed, almost as bad good Mother,
As kill a King, and marrie with his Brother.
Qu.
As kill a King?
Ham.
I Lady, 'twas my word,
Thou wretched, rash, intruding foole farewell,
I tooke thee for thy Betters, take thy Fortune,
Thou find'st to be too busie, is some danger.
Leaue wringing of your hands, peace, sit you downe,
And let me wring your heart, for so I shall
If it be made of penetrable stuffe;
If damned Custome haue not braz'd it so,
That it is proofe and bulwarke against Sense.
Qu.
What haue I done, that thou dar'st wag thy tong,
In noise so rude against me?
Ham.
Such an Act
That blurres the grace and blush of Modestie,
Cals Vertue Hypocrite, takes off the Rose
From the faire forehead of an innocent loue,
And makes a blister there. Makes marriage vowes
As false as Dicers Oathes. Oh such a deed,
The very soule, and sweete Religion makes
A rapsidie of words. Heauens face doth glow,
Yea this solidity and compound masse,
With tristfull visage as against the doome,
Is thought-sicke at the act.
Qu.
Aye me; what act, that roares so lowd, & thunders
in the Index.
Ham.
Looke heere vpon this Picture, and on this,
The counterfet presentment of two Brothers:
See what a grace was seated on his Brow,
Hyperions curles, the front of Ioue himselfe,
An eye like Mars, to threaten or command
A Station, like the Herald Mercurie
New lighted on a heauen-kissing hill:
A Combination, and a forme indeed,
Where euery God did seeme to set his Seale,
To giue the world assurance of a man.
This was your Husband. Looke you now what followes.
Heere is your Husband, like a Mildew'd eare
Blasting his wholsom breath. Haue you eyes?
Could you on this faire Mountaine leaue to feed,
And batten on this Moore? Ha? Haue you eyes?
You cannot call it Loue: For at your age,
The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waites vpon the Iudgement: and what Iudgement
Would step from this, to this? What diuell was't,
That thus hath cousend you at hoodman-blinde?
O Shame! where is thy Blush? Rebellious Hell,
If thou canst mutine in a Matrons bones,
To flaming youth, let Vertue be as waxe,
And melt in her owne fire. Proclaime no shame,
When the compulsiue Ardure giues the charge,
Since Frost it selfe, as actiuely doth burne,
As Reason panders Will.
Qu.
O Hamlet, speake no more.
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soule,
And there I see such blacke and grained spots,
As will not leaue their Tinct.
Ham.
Nay, but to liue
In the ranke sweat of an enseamed bed,
Stew'd in Corruption; honying and making loue
Ouer the nasty Stye.
Qu.
Oh speake to me, no more,
These words like Daggers enter in mine eares.
No more sweet Hamlet.
Ham.
A Murderer, and a Villaine:
A Slaue, that is not twentieth part the tythe
Of your precedent Lord. A vice of Kings,
A Cutpurse of the Empire and the Rule.
That from a shelfe, the precious Diadem stole,
And put it in his Pocket.
Qu.
No more.
Enter Ghost.
Ham.
A King of shreds and patches.
Saue me; and houer o're me with your wings
You heauenly Guards. What would you gracious figure?
Qu.
Alas he's mad.
Ham.
Do you not come your tardy Sonne to chide,
That laps't in Time and Passion, lets go by
Th'important acting of your dread command? Oh say.
Ghost.
Do not forget: this Visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But looke, Amazement on thy Mother fits;
O step betweene her, and her fighting Soule,
Conceit in weakest bodies, strongest workes.
Speake to her Hamlet.
Ham.
How is it with you Lady?
Qu.
Alas, how is't with you?
That you bend your eye on vacancie,
And with their corporall ayre do hold discourse.
Forth at your eyes, your spirits wildely peepe,
And as the sleeping Soldiours in th'Alarme,
Your bedded haire, like life in excrements,
Start vp, and stand an end. Oh gentle Sonne,
Vpon the heate and flame of thy distemper
Sprinkle coole patience. Whereon do you looke?
Ham.
On him, on him: look you how pale he glares,
His forme and cause conioyn'd, preaching to stones,
Would make them capeable. Do not looke vpon me,
Least with this pitteous action you conuert
My sterne effects: then what I haue to do,
Will want true colour; teares perchance for blood.
Qu.
To who do you speake this?
Ham.
Do you see nothing there?
Qu.
Nothing at all, yet all that is I see.
Ham.
Nor did you nothing heare?
Qu.
No, nothing but our selues.
Ham.
Why look you there: looke how it steals away:
My Father in his habite, as he liued,
Looke where he goes euen now out at the Portall.
Exit.
Qu.
This is the very coynage of your Braine,
This bodilesse Creation extasie is very cunning in.
Ham.
Extasie?
My Pulse as yours doth temperately keepe time,
And makes as healthfull Musicke. It is not madnesse
That I haue vttered; bring me to the Test
And I the matter will re-word: which madnesse
Would gamboll from. Mother, for loue of Grace,
Lay not a flattering Vnction to your soule,
That not your trespasse, but my madnesse speakes:
It will but skin and filme the Vlcerous place,
Whil'st ranke Corruption mining all within,
Infects vnseene. Confesse your selfe to Heauen,
Repent what's past, auoyd what is to come,
And do not spred the Compost or the Weedes,
To make them ranke. Forgiue me this my Vertue,
For in the fatnesse of this pursie times,
Vertue it selfe, of Vice must pardon begge,
Yea courb, and woe, for leaue to do him good.
Qu.
Oh Hamlet,
Thou hast cleft my heart in twaine.
Ham.
O throw away the worser part of it,
And liue the purer with the other halfe.
Good night, but go not to mine Vnkles bed,
Assume a Vertue, if you haue it not, refraine to night,
And that shall lend a kinde of easinesse
To the next abstinence. Once more goodnight,
And when you are desirous to be blest,
Ile blessing begge of you. For this same Lord,
I do repent: but heauen hath pleas'd 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 gaue him: so againe, good night.
I must be cruell, onely to be kinde;
Thus bad begins, and worse remaines behinde.
Qu.
What shall I do?
Ham.
Not this by no meanes that I bid you do:
Let the blunt King tempt you againe to bed,
Pinch Wanton on your cheeke, call you his Mouse,
And let him for a paire of reechie kisses,
Make you to rauell all this matter out,
That I essentially am not in madnesse,
But made in craft. 'Twere good you let him know,
For who that's but a Queene, faire, sober, wise,
Would from a Paddocke, from a Bat, a Gibbe,
Such deere concernings hide. Who would do so,
No in despight of Sense and Secrecie,
Vnpegge the Basket on the houses top:
Let the Birds flye, and like the famous Ape
To try Conclusions in the Basket, creepe
And breake your owne necke downe.
Qu.
Be thou assur'd, if words be made of breath,
And breath of life: I haue no life to breath
What thou hast saide to me.
Ham.
I must to England: you know that?
Qu.
Alacke I had forgot: 'Tis so concluded on.
Ham.
This man shall set me packing:
Ile lugge the Guts into the Neighbor roome,
Mother goodnight. Indeede this Counsellor
Is now most still, most secret, and most graue,
Who was in life, a foolish prating Knaue.
Come sir, to draw toward an end with you.
Good night Mother.
Exit Hamlet tugging in Polonius.
Enter King.
King.
There's matters in these sighes.
These profound heaues
You must translate; Tis fit we vnderstand them.
Where is your Sonne?
Qu.
Ah my good Lord, what haue I seene to night?
King.
What Gertrude? How do's Hamlet?
Qu.
Mad as the Seas, and winde, when both contend
Which is the Mightier, in his lawlesse fit
Behinde the Arras, hearing something stirre,
He whips his Rapier out, and cries a Rat, a Rat,
And in his brainish apprehension killes
The vnseene good old man.
King.
On heauy deed:
It had bin so with vs had we beene there:
His Liberty is full of threats to all,
To you your selfe, to vs, to euery one.
Alas, how shall this bloody deede be answered?
It will be laide to vs, whose prouidence
Should haue kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt,
This mad yong man. But so much was our loue,
We would not vnderstand what was most fit,
But like the Owner of a foule disease,
To keepe it from divulging, let's it feede
Euen on the pith of life. Where is he gone?
Qu.
To draw apart the body he hath kild,
Ore whom his very madnesse like some Oare
Among a Minerall of Mettels base
Shewes it selfe pure. He weepes for what is done.
King.
Oh Gertrude, come away:
The Sun no sooner shall the Mountaines touch,
But we will ship him hence, and this vilde deed,
We must with all our Maiesty and Skill
Both countenance, and excuse.
Enter Ros. & Guild.
Ho Guilderstern:
Friends both go ioyne you with some further ayde:
Hamlet in madnesse hath Polonius slaine,
And from his Mother Clossets hath he drag'd him.
Go seeke him out, speake faire, and bring the body
Into the Chappell. I pray you hast in this.
Exit Gent.
Come Gertrude, wee'l call vp our wisest friends,
To let them know both what we meane to do,
And what's vntimely done. Oh come away,
My soule is full of discord and dismay.
Exeunt.
Enter Hamlet.
Ham.
Safely stowed.
Gentlemen
within.
Hamlet, Lord Hamlet.
Ham.
What noise? Who cals on Hamlet?
Oh heere they come.
Enter Ros. and Guildensterne.
Ro.
What haue you done my Lord with the dead body?
Ham.
Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis Kinne.
Rosin.
Tell vs where 'tis, that we may take it thence,
And beare it to the Chappell.
Ham.
Do not beleeue it.
Rosin.
Beleeue what?
Ham.
That I can keepe your counsell, and not mine
owne. Besides, to be demanded of a Spundge, what replication
should be made by the Sonne of a King.
Rosin.
Take you me for a Spundge, my Lord?
Ham.
I sir, that sokes vp the Kings Countenance, his
Rewards, his Authorities (but such Officers do the King
best seruice in the end. He keepes them like an Ape in
the corner of his iaw, first mouth'd to be last swallowed,
when he needes what you haue glean'd, it is but squeezing
you, and Spundge you shall be dry againe.
Rosin.
I vnderstand you not my Lord.
Ham.
I am glad of it: a knauish speech sleepes in a
foolish eare.
Rosin.
My Lord, you must tell vs where the body is,
and go with vs to the King.
Ham.
The body is with the King, but the King is not
with the body. The King, is a thing—
Guild.
A thing my Lord?
Ham.
Of nothing: bring me to him, hide Fox, and all
after.
Exeunt
Enter King.
King.
I haue sent to seeke him, and to find the bodie:
How dangerous is it that this man goes loose:
Yet must, not we put the strong Law on him:
Hee's loued of the distracted multitude,
Who like not in their iudgement, but their eyes:
And where 'tis so, th'Offenders scourge is weigh'd
But neerer the offence: to beare all smooth, and euen,
This sodaine sending him away, must seeme
Deliberate pause, diseases desperate growne,
By desperate appliance are releeued,
Or not at all.
Enter Rosincrane.
How now? What hath befalne?
Rosin.
Where the dead body is bestow'd my Lord,
We cannot get from him.
King.
But where is he?
Rosin.
Without my Lord, guarded to know your
pleasure.
King.
Bring him before vs.
Rosin.
Hoa, Guildensterne? Bring in my Lord.
Enter Hamlet and Guildensterne.
King.
Now Hamlet, where's Polonius?
Ham.
At Supper.
King.
At Supper? Where?
Ham.
Not where he eats, but where he is eaten, a certaine
conuocation of wormes are e'ne at him. Your worm
is your onely Emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else
to fat vs, and we fat our selfe for Magots. Your fat King,
and your leane Begger is but variable seruice to dishes,
but to one Table that's the end.
King.
What dost thou meane by this?
Nothing but to shew you how a King may go
a Progresse through the guts of a Begger.
King.
Where is Polonius.
Ham.
In heauen, send thither to see. If your Messenger
finde him not there, seeke him i'th other place your
selfe: but indeed, if you finde him not this moneth, you
shall nose him as you go vp the staires into the Lobby.
King.
Go seeke him there.
Ham.
He will stay till ye come.
K.
Hamlet, this deed of thine, for thine especial safety
Which we do tender, as we deerely greeue
For that which thou hast done, must send thee hence
With fierie Quicknesse. Therefore prepare thy selfe,
The Barke is readie, and the winde at helpe,
Th'Associates tend, and euery thing at bent
For England.
Ham.
For England?
King.
I Hamlet.
Ham.
Good.
King.
So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.
Ham.
I see a Cherube that see's him: but come, for
England. Farewell deere Mother.
King.
Thy louing Father Hamlet.
Hamlet.
My Mother: Father and Mother is man and
wife: man & wife is one flesh, and so my mother. Come,
for England.
Exit
King.
Follow him at foote,
Tempt him with speed aboord:
Delay it not, Ile haue him hence to night.
Away, for euery thing is Seal'd and done
That else leanes on th'Affaire pray you make hast.
And England, if my loue thou holdst at ought,
As my great power thereof may giue thee sense,
Since yet thy Cicatrice lookes raw and red
After the Danish Sword, and thy free awe
Payes homage to vs; thou maist not coldly set
Our Soueraigne Processe, which imports at full
By Letters coniuring to that effect
The present death of Hamlet. Do it England,
For like the Hecticke in my blood he rages,
And thou must cure me: Till I know 'tis done,
How ere my happes, my ioyes were ne're begun.
Exit
Enter Fortinbras with an Armie.
For.
Go Captaine, from me greet the Danish King,
Tell him that by his license, Fortinbras
Claimes the conueyance of a promis'd March
Ouer his Kingdome. You know the Rendeuous:
If that his Maiesty would ought with vs,
We shall expresse our dutie in his eye,
And let him know so.
Cap.
I will doo't, my Lord.
For.
Go safely on.
Exit.
Enter Queene and Horatio.
Qu.
I will not speake with her.
Hor.
She is importunate, indeed distract, her moode
will needs be pittied.
Qu.
What would she haue?
Hor.
She speakes much of her Father; saies she heares
There's trickes i'th' world, and hems, and beats her heart,
Spurnes enuiously at Strawes, speakes things in doubt,
That carry but halfe sense: Her speech is nothing,
Yet the vnshaped vse of it doth moue
The hearers to Collection; they ayme at it,
And botch the words vp fit to their owne thoughts,
Which as her winkes, and nods, and gestures yeeld them,
Indeed would make one thinke there would be thought,
Though nothing sure, yet much vnhappily.
Qu.
'Twere good she were spoken with,
For she may strew dangerous coniectures
In ill breeding minds. Let her come in.
To my sicke soule (as sinnes true Nature is)
Each toy seemes Prologue, to some great amisse,
So full of Artlesse iealousie is guilt,
It spill's it selfe, in fearing to be spilt.
Enter Ophelia distracted.
Ophe,
Where is the beauteous Maiesty of Denmark.
Qu.
How now Ophelia?
Ophe.
How should I your true loue know from another one?
By his Cockle hat and staffe, and his Sandal shoone.
Qu.
Alas sweet Lady: what imports this Song?
Ophe.
Say you? Nay pray you marke.
At his head a grasse-greene Turfe, at his heeles a stone.
Enter King.
Qu.
Nay but Ophelia.
Ophe.
Pray you marke.
Qu.
Alas, looke heere my Lord.
Ophe.
Larded with sweet flowers:
Which bewept to the graue did not go,
With true-loue showres.
King.
How do ye, pretty Lady?
Ophe.
Well, God dil'd you. They say the Owle was
a Bakers daughter. Lord, wee know what we are, but
know not what we may be. God be at your Table.
King.
Conceit vpon her Father.
Ophe.
Pray you let's haue no words of this: but when
they aske you what it meanes, say you this:
And I a Maid at your Window, to be your Valentine.
Then vp he rose, & don'd his clothes, & dupt the chamber dare,
Let in the Maid, that out a Maid, neuer departed more.
King.
Pretty Ophelia.
Ophe.
Indeed la? without an oath Ile make an end ont.
Alacke, and sie for shame:
Yong men wil doo't, if they come too't,
By Cocke they are too blame.
Quoth she before you tumbled me,
You promis'd me to Wed:
So would I ha done by yonder Sunne,
And thou hadst not come to my bed.
King.
How long hath she bin this?
Ophe.
I hope all will be well. We must bee patient,
but I cannot choose but weepe, to thinke they should
lay him i'th' cold ground: My brother shall knowe of it,
and so I thanke you for your good counsell. Come, my
Coach: Goodnight Ladies: Goodnight sweet Ladies:
Goodnight, goodnight.
Exit.
King.
Follow her close,
Giue her good watch I pray you:
Oh this is the poyson of deepe greefe, it springs
All from her Fathers death. Oh Gertrude, Gertrude,
When sorrowes comes, they come not single spies,
But in Battaliaes. First, her Father slaine,
Next your Sonne gone, and he most violent Author
Of his owne iust remoue: the people muddied,
Thicke and vnwholsome in their thoughts, and whispers
For good Polonius death; and we haue done but greenly
In hugger mugger to interre him. Poore Ophelia
Diuided from her selfe, and her faire Iudgement,
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her Brother is in secret come from France,
Keepes on his wonder, keepes himselfe in clouds,
And wants not Buzzers to infect his eare
With pestilent Speeches of his Fathers death,
Where in necessitie of matter Beggard,
Will nothing sticke our persons to Arraigne
In eare and eare. O my deere Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering Peece in many places,
Giues me superfluous death.
A Noise within.
Enter a Messenger.
Qu.
Alacke, what noyse is this?
King.
Where are my Switzers?
Let them guard the doore. What is the matter?
Mes.
Saue your selfe, my Lord.
The Ocean (ouer-peering of his List)
Eates not the Flats with more impittious haste
Then young Laertes, in a Riotous head,
Ore-beares your Officers, the rabble call him Lord,
And as the world were now but to begin,
Antiquity forgot, Custome not knowne,
The Ratifiers and props of euery word,
They cry choose we? Laertes shall be King,
Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
Laertes shall be King, Laertes King.
Qu.
How cheerefully on the false Traile they cry,
Oh this is Counter you false Danish Dogges.
Noise within. Enter Laertes.
King.
The doores are broke.
Laer.
Where is the King, sirs? Stand you all without.
All.
No, let's come in.
Laer.
I pray you giue me leaue.
Al.
We will, we will.
Laer.
I thanke you: Keepe the doore.
Oh thou vilde King, giue me my Father.
Qu.
Calmely good Laertes.
Laer.
That drop of blood, that calmes
Proclaimes me Bastard:
Cries Cuckold to my Father, brands the Harlot
Euen heere betweene the chaste vnsmirched brow
Of my true Mother.
King.
What is the cause Laertes,
That thy Rebellion lookes so Gyant-like?
Let him go Gertrude: Do not feare our person:
There's such Diuinity doth hedge a King,
That Treason can but peepe to what it would,
Acts little of his will. Tell me Laertes,
Why thou art thus Incenst? Let him go Gertrude.
Speake man.
Laer.
Where's my Father?
King.
Dead.
Qu.
But not by him.
King.
Let him demand his fill.
Laer.
How came he dead? Ile not be Iuggel'd with.
To hell Allegeance: Vowes, to the blackest diuell.
Conscience and Grace, to the profoundest Pit.
I dare Damnation: to this point I stand,
That both the worlds I giue to negligence,
Let come what comes: onely Ile be reueng'd
Most throughly for my Father.
King.
Who shall stay you?
Laer.
My Will, not all the world,
And for my meanes, Ile husband them so well,
They shall go farre with little.
King.
Good Laertes:
If you desire to know the certaintie
Of your deere Fathers death, if writ in your reuenge,
That Soop-stake you will draw both Friend and Foe,
Winner and Looser.
Laer.
None but his Enemies.
King.
Will you know them then.
La.
To his good Friends, thus wide Ile ope' my Armes:
And like the kinde Life-rend'ring Politician,
Repast them with my blood.
King.
Why now you speake
Like a good Childe, and a true Gentleman.
That I am guiltlesse of your Fathers death,
And am most sensible in greefe for it,
It shall as leuell to your Iudgement pierce
As day do's to your eye.
A noise within. Let her come in.
Enter Ophelia.
Laer.
How now? what noise is that?
Oh heate drie vp my Braines, teares seuen times salt,
Burne out the Sence and Vertue of mine eye.
By Heauen, thy madnesse shall be payed by waight,
Till our Scale turnes the beame. Oh Rose of May,
Deere Maid, kinde Sister, sweet Ophelia:
Oh Heauens, is't possible, a yong Maids wits,
Should be as mortall as an old mans life?
Nature is fine in Loue, and where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of it selfe
After the thing it loues.
Ophe.
They bore him bare fac'd on the Beer,
Hey non nony, nony, hey nony:
And on his graue raines many a teare,
Fare you well my Doue.
Laer.
Had'st thou thy wits, and did'st perswade Reuenge,
it could not moue thus.
Ophe.
You must sing downe a-downe, and you call
him a-downe-a. Oh, how the wheele becomes it? It is
the false Steward that stole his masters daughter.
Laer.
This nothings more then matter.
Ophe.
There's Rosemary, that's for Remembraunce.
Pray loue remember: and there is Paconcies, that's for
Thoughts.
Laer.
A document in madnesse, thoughts & remembrance
fitted.
Ophe.
There's Fennell for you, and Columbines: ther's
Rew for you, and heere's some for me. Wee may call it
Herbe-Grace a Sundaies: Oh you must weare your Rew
with a difference. There's a Daysie, I would giue you
some Violets, but they wither'd all when my Father dyed:
They say, he made a good end;
Laer.
Thought, and Affliction, Passion, Hell it selfe:
She turnes to Fauour, and to prettinesse.
Ophe.
And will he not come againe,
And will he not come againe:
No, no, he is dead, go to thy Death-bed,
He neuer wil come againe.
His Beard as white as Snow,
All Flaxen was his Pole:
He is gone, he is gone, and we cast away mone,
Gramercy on his Soule.
And of all Christian Soules, I pray God.
God buy ye.
Exeunt Ophelia
Laer.
Do you see this, you Gods?
King.
Laertes, I must common with your greefe,
Or you deny me right: go but apart,
And they shall heare and iudge 'twixt you and me;
If by direct or by Colaterall hand
They finde vs touch'd, we will our Kingdome giue,
Our Crowne, our Life, and all that we call Ours
To you in satisfaction. But if not,
Be you content to lend your patience to vs,
And we shall ioyntly labour with your soule
To giue it due content.
Laer.
Let this be so:
His meanes of death, his obscure buriall;
No Trophee, Sword, nor Hatchment o're his bones,
No Noble rite, nor formall ostentation,
Cry to be heard, as 'twere from Heauen to Earth,
That I must call in question.
King.
So you shall:
And where th'offence is, let the great Axe fall.
I pray you go with me.
Exeunt
Enter Horatio, with an Attendant.
Hora.
What are they that would speake with me?
Ser.
Saylors sir, they say they haue Letters for you.
Hor.
Let them come in,
I do not know from what part of the world
I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
Enter Saylor.
Say.
God blesse you Sir.
Hor.
Let him blesse thee too.
Say.
Hee shall Sir, and't please him. There's a Letter
for you Sir: It comes from th'Ambassadours that was
bound for England, if your name be Horatio, as I am let
to know it is.
[Hora.]
Reads the Letter.
Horatio, When thou shalt haue ouerlook'd this, giue these
Fellowes some meanes to the King: They haue Letters
for him. Ere we were two dayes old at Sea, a Pyrate of very
Warlicke appointment gaue vs Chace. Finding our selues too
slow of Saile, we put on a compelled Valour. In the Grapple, I
boorded them: On the instant they got cleare of our Shippe, so
I alone became their Prisoner. They haue dealt with mee, like
Theeues of Mercy, but they knew what they did. I am to doe
a good turne for them. Let the King haue the Letters I haue
sent, and repaire thou to me with as much hast as thou wouldest
flye death. I haue words to speake in your eare, will make thee
dumbe, yet are they much too light for the bore of the Matter.
These good Fellowes will bring thee where I am. Rosincrance
and Guildensterne, hold their course for England. Of them
I haue much to tell thee, Farewell.
He that thou knowest thine,
Hamlet.
And do't the speedier, that you may direct me
To him from whom you brought them.
Exit.
Enter King and Laertes.
King.
Now must your conscience my acquittance seal,
And you must put me in your heart for Friend,
Sith you haue heard, and with a knowing eare,
That he which hath your Noble Father slaine,
Pursued my life.
Laer.
It well appeares. But tell me,
Why you proceeded not against these feates,
So crimefull, and so Capitall in Nature,
As by your Safety, Wisedome, all things else,
You mainly were stirr'd vp?
King.
O for two speciall Reasons,
Which may to you (perhaps) seeme much vnsinnowed,
And yet to me they are strong. The Queen his Mother,
Liues almost by his lookes: and for my selfe,
My Vertue or my Plague, be it either which,
She's so coniunctiue to my life and soule;
That as the Starre moues not but in his Sphere,
I could not but by her. The other Motiue,
Why to a publike count I might not go,
Is the great loue the generall gender beare him,
Who dipping all his Faults in their affection,
Would like the Spring that turneth Wood to Stone,
Conuert his Gyues to Graces. So that my Arrowes
Too slightly timbred for so loud a Winde,
Would haue reuerted to my Bow againe,
And not where I had arm'd them.
Laer.
And so haue I a Noble Father lost,
A Sister driuen into desperate tearmes,
Who was (if praises may go backe againe)
Stood Challenger on mount of all the Age
For her perfections. But my reuenge will come.
King.
Breake not your sleepes for that,
You must not thinke
That we are made of stuffe, so flat, and dull,
That we can let our Beard be shooke with danger,
And thinke it pastime. You shortly shall heare more,
I lou'd your Father, and we loue our Selfe,
And that I hope will teach you to imagine—
Enter a Messenger.
How now? What Newes?
Mes.
Letters my Lord from Hamlet. This to your
Maiesty: this to the Queene.
King.
From Hamlet? Who brought them?
Mes.
Saylors my Lord they say, I saw them not:
They were giuen me by Claudio, he receiu'd them.
King.
Laertes you shall heare them:
Leaue vs.
Exit Messenger
High and Mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your
Kingdome. To morrow shall I begge leaue to see your Kingly
Eyes. When I shall (first asking your Pardon thereunto) recount
th'Occasions of my sodaine, and more strange returne.
Hamlet.
What should this meane? Are all the rest come backe?Or is it some abuse? Or no such thing?
Laer.
Know you the hand?
Kin.
'Tis Hamlets Character, naked and in a Postcript
here he sayes alone: Can you aduise me?
Laer.
I'm lost in it my Lord; but let him come,
It warmes the very sicknesse in my heart,
That I shall liue and tell him to his teeth;
Thus diddest thou.
Kin.
If it be so Laertes, as how should it be so:
How otherwise will you be rul'd by me?
Laer.
If so you'l not o'rerule me to a peace.
Kin.
To thine owne peace: if he be now return'd,
As checking at his Voyage, and that he meanes
No more to vndertake it; I will worke him
To an exployt now ripe in my Deuice,
Vnder the which he shall not choose but fall;
And for his death no winde of blame shall breath,
But euen his Mother shall vncharge the practice,
And call it accident: Some two Monthes hence
Here was a Gentleman of Normandy,
I'ue seene my selfe, and seru'd against the French,
And they ran well on Horsebacke; but this Gallant
And to such wondrous doing brought his Horse,
As had he beene encorps't and demy-Natur'd
With the braue Beast, so farre he past my thought,
That I in forgery of shapes and trickes,
Come short of what he did.
Laer.
A Norman was't?
Kin.
A Norman.
Laer.
Vpon my life Lamound.
Kin.
The very same.
Laer.
I know him well, he is the Brooch indeed,
And Iemme of all our Nation.
Kin.
Hee mad confession of you,
And gaue you such a Masterly report,
For Art and exercise in your defence;
And for your Rapier most especiallye,
That he cryed out, t'would be a sight indeed,
If one could match you Sir. This report of his
Did Hamlet so envenom with his Enuy,
That he could nothing doe but wish and begge,
Your sodaine comming ore to play with him;
Now out of this.
Laer.
Why out of this, my Lord?
Kin
Laertes was your Father deare to you?
Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
A face without a heart?
Laer.
Why aske you this?
Kin.
Not that I thinke you did not loue your Father,
But that I know Loue is begun by Time:
And that I see in passages of proofe,
Time qualifies the sparke and fire of it:
Hamlet comes backe: what would you vndertake,
To show your selfe your Fathers sonne indeed,
More then in words?
Laer.
To cut his throat i'th' Church.
Kin.
No place indeed should murder Sancturize;
Reuenge should haue no bounds: but good Laertes
Will you doe this, keepe close within your Chamber,
Hamlet return'd, shall know you are come home:
Wee'l put on those shall praise your excellence,
And set a double varnish on the fame
The Frenchman gaue you, bring you in fine together,
And wager on your heads, he being remisse,
Most generous, and free from all contriuing,
Will not peruse the Foiles? So that with ease,
Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
A Sword, vnbaited, and in a passe of practice,
Requit him for your Father.
Laer.
Twill doo't
And for that purpose Ile annoint my Sword:
I bought an Vnction of a Mountebanke
So mortall, I but dipt a knife in it,
Where it drawes blood, no Cataplasme so rare,
Collected from all Simples that haue Vertue
Vnder the Moone, can saue the thing from death,
That is but scratcht withall: Ile touch my point,
With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.
Kin
Let's further thinke of this,
Weigh what conuenience both of time and meanes
May fit vs to our shape, if this should faile;
And that our drift looke through our bad performance,
'Twere better not assaid; therefore this Proiect
Should haue a backe or second, that might hold,
If this should blast in proofe: Soft, let me see
Wee'l make a solemne wager on your commings,
I ha't: when in your motion you are hot and dry,
As make your bowts more violent to the end,
And that he cals for drinke; Ile haue prepar'd him
A Challice for the nonce; whereon but sipping,
If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,
Our purpose may hold there; how sweet Queene.
Enter Queene.
Queen.
One woe doth tread vpon anothers heele,
So fast they'l follow: your Sister's drown'd Laertes.
Laer.
Drown'd! O where?
Queen.
There is a Willow growes aslant a Brooke,
That shewes his hore leaues in the glassie streame:
There with fantasticke Garlands did she come,
Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daysies, and long Purples,
That liberall Shepheards giue a grosser name;
But our cold Maids doe Dead Mens Fingers call them:
There on the pendant boughes, her Coronet weeds
Clambring to hang; an enuious sliuer broke,
When downe the weedy Trophies, and her selfe,
Fell in the weeping Brooke, her cloathes spred wide,
And Mermaid-like, a while they bore her vp,
Which time she chaunted snatches of old tunes,
As one incapable of her owne distresse,
Or like a creature Natiue, and indued
Vnto that Element: but long it could not be,
Till that her garments, heauy with her drinke,
Pul'd the poore wretch from her melodious buy,
To muddy death.
Laer.
Alas then, is she drown'd?
Queen.
Drown'd, drown'd.
Laer.
Too much of water hast thou poore Ophelia,
And therefore I forbid my teares: but yet
It is our tricke, Nature her custome holds,
Let shame say what it will; when these are gone
The woman will be out: Adue my Lord,
I haue a speech of fire, that faine would blaze,
But that this folly doubts it.
Exit.
Kin.
Let's follow, Gertrude:
How much I had to doe to calme his rage?
Now feare I this will giue it start againe;
Therefore let's follow.
Exeunt.
Enter two Clownes.
Clown.
Is she to bee buried in Christian buriall, that
wilfully seekes her owne saluation?
Other.
I tell thee she is, and therefore make her Graue
straight, the Crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian
buriall.
Clo.
How can that be, vnlesse she drowned her selfe in
her owne defence?
Other.
Why 'tis found so.
Clo.
It must be Se offendendo, it cannot bee else: for
heere lies the point; If I drowne my selfe wittingly, it argues
an Act: and an Act hath three branches. It is an
Act to doe and to performe; argall she drown'd her selfe
wittingly.
Other.
Nay but heare you Goodman Deluer.
Clown.
Giue me leaue; heere lies the waters good:
heere stands the man; good: If the man goe to this water
and drowne himsele; it is will he nill he, he goes;
marke you that? But if the water come to him & drowne
him; hee drownes not himselfe. Argall, hee that is not
guilty of his owne death, shortens not his owne life.
Other.
But is this law?
Clo.
I marry is't, Crowners Quest Law.
Will you ha the truth on't: If this had not
beene a Gentlewoman, shee should haue beene buried
out of Christian Buriall.
Clo.
Why there thou say'st. And the more pitty that
great folke should haue countenance in this world to
drowne or hang themselues, more then their euen Christian.
Come, my Spade; there is no ancient Gentlemen,
but Gardiners, Ditchers and Graue-makers; they hold vp
Adams Profession.
Other.
Was he a Gentleman?
Clo.
He was the first that euer bore Armes.
Other.
Why he had none.
Clo.
What, ar't a Heathen? how dost thou vnderstand
the Scripture? the Scripture sayes Adam dig'd;
could hee digge without Armes? Ile put another question
to thee; if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confesse
thy selfe—
Other.
Go too.
Clo.
What is he that builds stronger then either the
Mason, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter?
Other.
The Gallowes maker; for that Frame outliues a
thousand Tenants.
Clo.
I like thy wit well in good faith, the Gallowes
does well; but how does it well? it does well to those
that doe ill: now, thou dost ill to say the Gallowes is
built stronger then the Church: Argall, the Gallowes
may doe well to thee. Too't againe, Come.
Other.
Who builds stronger then a Mason, a Shipwright,
or a Carpenter?
Clo.
I, tell me that, and vnyoake.
Other.
Marry, now I can tell.
Clo.
Too't.
Other.
Masse, I cannot tell.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio a farre off.
Clo.
Cudgell thy braines no more about it; for your
dull Asse will not mend his pace with beating; and when
you are ask't this question next, say a Graue-maker: the
Houses that he makes, lasts till Doomesday: go, get thee
to Yaughan, fetch me a stoupe of Liquor.
me thought it was very sweete:
To contract O the time for a my behoue,
O me thought there was nothing meete.
Ham.
Ha's this fellow no feeling of his businesse, that
he sings at Graue-making?
Hor.
Custome hath made it in him a property of easinesse.
Ham.
'Tis ee'n so; the hand of little Imployment hath
the daintier sense.
Clowne
sings.
But Age with his stealing steps
hath caught me in his clutch:
And hath shipped me intill the Land,
as if I had neuer beene such.
Ham.
That Scull had a tongue in it, and could sing
once: how the knaue iowles it to th' grownd, as if it
were Caines Iaw-bone, that did the first murther: It
might be the Pate of a Polititian which this Asse o're Offices:
one that could circumuent God, might it not?
Hor.
It might, my Lord.
Ham.
Or of a Courtier, which could say, Good Morrow
sweet Lord: how dost thou, good Lord? this
might be my Lord such a one, that prais'd my Lord such
a ones Horse, when he meant to begge it; might it not?
Hor.
I, my Lord.
Ham.
Why ee'n so: and now my Lady Wormes,
Chaplesse, and knockt about the Mazard with a Sextons
Spade; heere's fine Reuolution, if wee had the tricke to
see't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but
to play at Loggets with 'em? mine ake to thinke
on't.
Clowne
sings.
A Pickhaxe and a Spade, a Spade.
for and a shrowding-Sheete:
O a Pit of Clay for to be made,
for such a Guest is meete.
Ham.
There's another: why might not that bee the
Scull of of a Lawyer? where be his Quiddits now? his
Quillets? his Cafes? his Tenures, and his Tricks? why
doe's he suffer this rude knaue now to knocke him about
the Sconce with a dirty Shouell, 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 Recoueries:
Is this the fine of his Fines, and the recouery of his Recoueries,
to haue his fine Pate full of fine Dirt? will his
Vouchers vouch him no more of his Purchases, and double
ones too, then the length and breadth of a paire of
Indentures? the very Conueyances of his Lands will
hardly lye in this Boxe; and must the Inheritor himselfe
haue no more? ha?
Hor.
Not a iot more, my Lord.
Ham.
Is not Parchment made of Sheep-skinnes?
Hor.
I my Lord, and of Calue-skinnes too.
Ham.
They are Sheepe and Calues that seek out assurance
in that. I will speake to this fellow: whose Graue's
this Sir?
Clo.
Mine Sir:
for such a Guest is meete.
Ham.
I thinke it be thine indeed: for thou liest in't.
Clo.
You lye out on't Sir, and therefore it is not yours:
for my part, I doe not lye in't; and yet it is mine.
Ham.
Thou dost lye in't, to be in't and say 'tis thine:
'tis for the dead, not for the quicke, therefore thou
lyest.
Clo.
'Tis a quicke lye Sir, 'twill away againe from me
to you.
Ham.
What man dost thou digge it for?
Clo.
For no man Sir.
Ham.
What woman then?
Clo.
For none neither.
Ham.
Who is to be buried in't?
Clo.
One that was a woman Sir; but rest her Soule,
shee's dead.
Ham.
How absolute the knaue is? wee must speake
by the Carde, or equiuocation will vndoe vs: by the
Lord Horatio, these three yeares I haue taken note of it,
the Age is growne so picked, that the toe of the Pesant
comes so neere the heeles of our Courtier, hee galls his
Kibe. How long hast thou been a Graue-maker?
Clo.
Of all the dayes i'th' yeare, I came too't that day
that our last King Hamlet o're came Fortinbras.
Ham.
How long is that since?
Clo.
Cannot you tell that? euery foole can tell that:
It was the very day, that young Hamlet was borne, hee
that was mad, and sent into England.
Ham.
I marry, why was he sent into England?
Clo.
Why, because he was mad; hee shall recouer his
wits there; or if he do not, it's no great matter there.
Why?
Clo.
'Twill not be seene in him, there the men are as
mad as he.
Ham.
How came he mad?
Clo.
Very strangely they say.
Ham.
How strangely?
Clo.
Faith e'ene with loosing his wits.
Ham.
Vpon what ground?
Clo.
Why heere in Denmarke: I haue bin sixeteene
heere, man and Boy thirty yeares.
Ham.
How long will a man lie 'ith' earth ere he rot?
Clo.
Ifaith, if he be not rotten before he die (as we haue
many pocky Coarses now adaies, that will scarce hold
the laying in) he will last you some eight yeare, or nine
yeare. A Tanner will last you nine yeare.
Ham.
Why he, more then another?
Clo.
Why sir, his hide is so tan'd with his Trade, that
he will keepe out water a great while. And your water,
is a sore Decayer of your horson dead body. Heres a Scull
now: this Scul, has laine in the earth three & twenty years.
Ham.
Whose was it?
Clo.
A whoreson mad Fellowes it was;
Whose doe you thinke it was?
Ham.
Nay, I know not.
Clo.
A pestlence on him for a mad Rogue, a pou'rd a
Flaggon of Renish on my head once. This same Scull
Sir, this same Scull sir, was Yoricks Scull, the Kings Iester.
Ham.
This?
Clo:
E'ene that.
Ham.
Let me see. Alas poore Yorick, I knew him Horatio,
a fellow of infinite Iest: of most excellent fancy, he
hath borne me on his backe a thousand times: And how
abhorred my Imagination is, my gorge rises at it. Heere
hung those lipps, that I haue kist I know not how oft.
VVhere be your Iibes now? Your Gambals? Your
Songs? Your flashes of Merriment that were wont to
set the Table on a Rore? No one now to mock your own
Ieering? Quite chopfalne? Now get you to my Ladies
Chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this
fauour she must come. Make her laugh at that: prythee
Horatio tell me one thing.
Hor.
What's that my Lord?
Ham.
Dost thou thinke Alexander lookt o'this fashion
i'th' earth?
Hor.
E'ene so.
Ham.
And smelt so? Puh.
Hor.
E'ene so, my Lord.
Ham.
To what base vses we may returne Horatio.
Why may not Imagination trace the Noble dust of Alexander,
till he find it stopping a bunghole.
Hor.
'Twere to consider: to curiously to consider so.
Ham.
No faith, not a iot. But to follow him thether
with modestie enough, & likeliehood to lead it; as thus.
Alexander died: Alexander was buried: Alexander returneth
into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make
Lome, and why of that Lome (whereto he was conuerted)
might they not stopp a Beere-barrell?
Might stop a hole to keepe the winde away.
Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a Wall, t'expell the winters flaw.
But soft, but soft, aside; heere comes the King.
Enter King, Queene, Laertes, and a Coffin, with Lords attendant.
The Queene, the Courtiers. Who is that they follow,
And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken,
The Coarse they follow, did with disperate hand,
Fore do it owne life; 'twas some Estate.
Couch we a while, and mark.
Laer.
What Cerimony else?
Ham.
That is Laertes, a very Noble youth: Marke.
Laer.
What Cerimony else?
Priest.
Her Obsequies haue bin as farre inlarg'd.
As we haue warrantis, her death was doubtfull,
And but that great Command, o're-swaies the order,
She should in ground vnsanctified haue lodg'd,
Till the last Trumpet. For charitable praier,
Shardes, Flints, and Peebles, should be throwne on her:
Yet heere she is allowed her Virgin Rites,
Her Maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of Bell and Buriall.
Laer.
Must there no more be done?
Priest.
No more be done:
We should prophane the seruice of the dead,
To sing sage Requiem, and such rest to her
As to peace-parted Soules.
Laer.
Lay her i'th' earth,
And from her faire and vnpolluted flesh,
May Violets spring. I tell thee (churlish Priest)
A Ministring Angell shall my Sister be,
When thou liest howling?
Ham.
What, the faire Ophelia?
Queene.
Sweets, to the sweet farewell.
I hop'd thou should'st haue bin my Hamlets wife:
I thought thy Bride bed to haue deckt (sweet Maid)
And not t'haue strew'd thy Graue.
Laer.
Oh terrible woer,
Fall ten times trebble, on that cursed head
Whose wicked deed, thy most Ingenious sence
Depriu'd thee of. Hold off the earth a while,
Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes:
Leaps in the graue.
Now pile your dust, vpon the quicke, and dead,
Till of this flat a Mountaine you haue made,
To o're top old Pelion, or the skyish head
Of blew Olympus.
Ham.
What is he, whose griefes
Beares such an Emphasis? whose phrase of Sorrow
Coniure the wandring Starres, and makes them stand
Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
Hamlet the Dane.
Laer.
The deuill take thy soule.
Ham.
Thou prai'st not well,
I prythee take thy fingers from my throat;
Sir though I am not Spleenatiue, and rash,
Yet haue I something in me dangerous,
Which let thy wisenesse feare. Away thy hand.
King.
Pluck them asunder.
Qu.
Hamlet, Hamlet.
Gen.
Good my Lord be quiet.
Ham.
Why I will fight with him vppon this Theme.
Vntill my eielids will no longer wag.
Qu.
Oh my Sonne, what Theame?
Ham.
I lou'd Ophelia; fortie thousand Brothers
Could not (with all there quantitie of Loue)
Make vp my summe. What wilt thou do for her?
King.
Oh he is mad Laertes,
Qu.
For loue of God for beare him.
Ham.
Come show me what thou'lt doe.
Woo't weepe? Woo't fight? Woo't teare thy selfe?
Woo't drinke vp Esile, eate a Crocodile?
To outface me with leaping in her Graue?
Be buried quicke with her, and so will I.
And if thou prate of Mountaines; let them throw
Millions of Akers on vs; till our ground
Sindging his pate against the burning Zone,
Make Ossa like a wart. Nay, and thoul't mouth,
Ile rant as well as thou.
Kin.
This is meere Madnesse:
And thus awhile the fit will worke on him:
Anon as patient as the female Doue,
When that her golden Cuplet are disclos'd;
His silence will sit drooping.
Ham.
Heare you Sir:
What is the reason that you vse me thus?
I loud: you euer, but it is no matter:
Let Hercules himselfe doe what he may,
The Cat will Mew, and Dogge will haue his day.
Exit.
Kin.
I pray you good Horatio wait vpon him,
Strengthen you patience in our last nights speech,
Wee'l put the matter to the present push:
Good Gertrude set some watch ouer your Sonne,
This Graue shall haue a liuing Monument:
An houre of quiet shortly shall we see;
Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
Ham.
So much for this Sir; now let me see the other,
You doe remember all the Circumstance.
Hor.
Remember it my Lord?
Ham.
Sir, in my heart there was a kinde of fighting,
That would not let me sleepe; me thought I lay
Worse then the mutines in the Bilboes, rashly,
(And praise be rashnesse for it) let vs know,
Our indiscretion sometimes serues vs well,
When our deare plots do paule, and that should teach vs,
There's a Diuinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.
Hor.
That is most certaine.
Ham.
Vp from my Cabin
My sea-gowne scarft about me in the darke,
Grop'd I to finde out them; had my desire,
Finger'd their Packet, and in fine, withdrew
To mine owne roome againe, making so bold,
(My feares forgetting manners) to vnseale
There grand Commission, where I found Horatio,
Oh royall knauery: An exact command,
Larded with many seuerall sorts of reason;
Importing Denmarks health, and Englands too,
With hoo, such Bugges and Goblins in my life,
That on the superuize no leasure bated,
No not to stay the grinding of the Axe,
My head shoud be struck off.
Hor.
Ist possible?
Ham.
Here's the Commission, read it at more leysure:
But wilt thou heare me how I did proceed?
Hor.
I beseech you.
Ham.
Being thus benetted round with Villaines,
Ere I could make a Prologue to my braines,
They had begun the Play. I sate me downe,
Deuis'd a new Commission, wrote it faire,
I once did hold it as our Statists doe,
A basenesse to write faire; and laboured much
How to forget that learning: but Sir now,
It did me Yeomans seruice: wilt thou know
The effects of what I wrote?
Hor.
I, good my Lord.
Ham.
An earnest Coniuration from the King,
As England was his faithfull Tributary,
As loue betweene them, as the Palme should flourish,
As Peace should still her wheaten Garland weare,
And stand a Comma 'tweene their amities,
And many such like Assis of great charge,
That on the view and know of these Contents,
Without debatement further, more or lesse,
He should the bearers put to sodaine death,
Not shriuing time allowed.
Hor.
How was this seal'd?
Ham.
Why, euen in that was Heauen ordinate;
I had my fathers Signet in my Purse,
Which was the Modell of that Danish Seale:
Folded the Writ vp in forme of the other,
Subscrib'd it, gau't th'impression, plac't it safely.
The changeling neuer knowne: Now, the next day
Was our Sea Fight, and what to this was sement,
Thou know'st already.
Hor.
So Guildensterne and Rosincrance, go too't.
Ham.
Why man, they did make loue to this imployment
They are not neere my Conscience; their debate
Doth by their owne insinuation grow:
'Tis dangerous, when the baser nature comes
Betweene the passe, and fell incensed points
Of mighty opposites.
Hor.
Why, what's a King is this?
Ham.
Does it not, thinkst thee, stand me now vpon
He that hath kil'd my King, and whor'd my Mother,
Popt in betweene th'election and my hopes,
Throwne out his Angle for my proper life,
And with such coozenage; is't not perfect conscience,
To quit him with this arme? And is't not to be damn'd
To let this Canker of our nature come
In further euill.
Hor.
It must be shortly knowne to him from England
What is the issue of the businesse there.
Ham.
It will be short,
The interim's mine, and a mans life's no more
Then to say one: but I am very sorry good Horatio,
That to Laertes I forgot my selfe;
For by the image of my Cause, I see
The Portraiture of his; Ile count his fauours:
But sure the brauery of his griefe did put me
Into a Towring passion.
Hor.
Peace, who comes heere?
Enter young Osricke.
Osr.
Your Lordship is right welcome back to Denmarke.
Ham.
I humbly thank you Sir, dost know this waterflie?
Hor.
No my good Lord.
Ham.
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 and at the Kings
Messe; 'tis a Chowgh; but as I saw spacious in the possession
of dirt.
Osr.
Sweet Lord, if your friendship were at leysure,
I should impart a thing to you from his Maiesty.
Ham.
I will receiue it with all diligence of spirit; put
your Bonet to his right vse, 'tis for the head.
Osr.
I thanke your Lordship, 'tis very hot.
Ham.
No, beleeue mee 'tis very cold, the winde is
Northerly.
Osr.
It is indifferent cold my Lord indeed.
Ham.
Me thinkes it is very soultry, and hot for my
Complexion.
Exceedingly, my Lord, it is very soultry, as 'twere
I cannot tell how: but my Lord, his Maiesty bad me signifie
to you, that he ha's laid a great wager on your head:
Sir, this is the matter.
Ham.
I beseech you remember.
Osr.
Nay, in good faith, for mine ease in good faith:
Sir, you are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is at
his weapon.
Ham.
What's his weapon?
Osr.
Rapier and dagger.
Ham.
That's two of his weapons; but well.
Osr.
The sir King ha's wag'd with him six Barbary Horses,
against the which he impon'd as I take it, sixe French
Rapiers and Poniards, with their assignes, as Girdle,
Hangers or so: three of the Carriages insaith are very
deare to fancy, very responsiue to the hilts, most delicate
carriages, and of very liberall conceit.
Ham.
What call you the Carriages?
Osr.
The Carriages Sir, are the hangers.
Ham.
The phrase would bee more Germaine to the
matter: If we could carry Cannon by our sides; I would
it might be Hangers till then; but on sixe Barbary Horses
against sixe French Swords: their Assignes, and three
liberall conceited Carriages, that's the French but against
the Danish; why is this impon'd as you call it?
Osr.
The King Sir, hath laid that in a dozen passes betweene
you and him, hee shall not exceed you three hits;
He hath one twelue for mine, and that would come to
imediate tryall, if your Lordship would vouchsafe the
Answere.
Ham.
How if I answere no?
Osr.
I meane my Lord, the opposition of your person
in tryall.
Ham.
Sir, I will walke heere in the Hall; if it please
his Maiestie, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; let
the Foyles bee brought, the Gentleman willing, and the
King hold his purpose; I will win for him if I can: if
not, Ile gaine nothing but my shame, and the odde hits.
Osr.
Shall I redeliuer you ee'n so?
Ham.
To this effect Sir, after what flourish your nature
will.
Osr.
I commend my duty to your Lordship.
Ham.
Yours, yours; hee does well to commend it
himselfe, there are no tongues else for's tongue.
Hor.
This Lapwing runs away with the shell on his
head.
Ham.
He did Complie with his Dugge before hee
suck't it: thus had he and mine more of the same Beauy
that I know the drossie age dotes on; only got the tune of
the time, and outward habite of encounter, a kinde of
yesty collection, which carries them through & through
the most fond and winnowed opinions; and doe but blow
them to their tryalls: the Bubbles are out.
Hor.
You will lose this wager, my Lord.
Ham.
I doe not thinke so, since he went into France,
I haue beene in continuall practice; I shall winne at the
oddes: but thou wouldest not thinke how all heere about
my heart: but it is no matter.
Hor.
Nay, good my Lord.
Ham.
It is but foolery; but it is such a kinde of
gain-giuing as would perhaps trouble a woman.
Hor.
If your minde dislike any thing, obey. I will forestall
their repaire hither, and say you are not fit.
Ham.
Not a whit, we defie Augury; there's a speciall
Prouidence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not
to come: if it bee not to come, it will bee now: if it
be not now; yet it will come; the readinesse is all, since no
man ha's ought of what he leaues. What is't to leaue betimes?
Enter King, Queene, Laertes and Lords, with other Attendants with Foyles, and Gauntlets, a Table and Flagons of Wine on it.
Kin.
Come Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
Ham.
Giue me your pardon Sir, I'ue done you wrong,
But pardon't as you are a Gentleman.
This presence knowes,
And you must needs haue heard how I am punisht
With sore distraction? What I haue done
That might your nature honour, and exception
Roughly awake, I heere proclaime was madnesse:
Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Neuer Hamlet.
If Hamlet from himselfe be tane away:
And when he's not himselfe, do's wrong Laertes,
Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it:
Who does it then? His Madnesse? If't be so,
Hamlet is of the Faction that is wrong'd,
His madnesse is poore Hamlets Enemy.
Sir, in this Audience,
Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd euill,
Free me so farre in you most generous thoughts,
That I haue shot mine Arrow o're the house,
And hurt my Mother.
Laer.
I am satisfied in Nature,
Whose motiue in this case should stirre me most
To my Reuenge. But in my termes of Honor
I stand aloofe, and will no reconcilement,
Till by some elder Masters of knowne Honor,
I haue a voyce, and president of peace
To keepe my name vngorg'd. But till that time,
I do receiue your offer'd loue like loue,
And wil not wrong it.
Ham.
I do embrace it freely,
And will this Brothers wager frankely play.
Giue vs the Foyles: Come on.
Laer.
Come one for me.
Ham.
Ile be your foile Laertes, in mine ignorance,
Your Skill shall like a Starre i'th' darkest night,
Sticke fiery off indeede.
Laer.
You mocke me Sir.
Ham.
No by this hand.
King.
Giue them the Foyles yong Osricke,
Cousen Hamlet, you know the wager.
Ham.
Verie well my Lord,
Your Grace hath laide the oddes a'th' weaker side.
King.
I do not feare it,
I haue seene you both:
But since he is better'd, we haue therefore oddes,
Laer.
This is too heauy,
Let me see another.
Ham.
This likes me well,
These Foyles haue all a length.
Prepare to play.
Osricke.
I my good Lord.
King.
Set me the Stopes of wine vpon that Table:
If Hamlet giue the first, or second hit,
Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
Let all the Battlements their Ordinance fire,
The King shal drinke to Hamlets better breath,
And in the Cup an vnion shal he throw
Richer then that, which foure successiue Kings
In Denmarkes Crowne haue worne.
And let the Kettle to the Trumpets speake,
The Trumpet to the Cannoneer without,
The Cannons to the Heauens, the Heauen to Earth,
Now the King drinkes to Hamlet. Come, begin,
And you the Iudges beare a wary eye.
Ham.
Come on sir.
Laer.
Come on sir.
They play.
Ham.
One.
Laer.
No.
Ham.
Iudgement.
Osr.
A hit, a very palpable hit.
Laer.
Well: againe.
King.
Stay, giue me drinke.
Hamlet, this Pearle is thine,
Here's to thy health. Giue him the cup.
Trumpets sound, and shot goes off.
Ham.
Ile play this bout first, set by a-while.
Come: Another hit; what say you?
Laer.
A touch, a touch, I do confesse.
King.
Our Sonne shall win.
Qu.
He's fat, and scant of breath.
Heere's a Napkin, rub thy browes,
The Queene Carowses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
Ham.
Good Madam.
King.
Gertrude, do not drinke.
Qu.
I will my Lord;
I pray you pardon me.
King.
It is the poyson'd Cup, it is too late.
Ham.
I dare not drinke yet Madam,
By and by.
Qu.
Come, let me wipe thy face.
Laer.
My Lord, Ile hit him now.
King.
I do not thinke't.
Laer.
And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.
Ham.
Come for the third.
Laertes, you but dally,
I pray you passe with your best violence,
I am affear'd you make a wanton of me.
Laer.
Say you so? Come on.
Play.
Osr.
Nothing neither way.
Laer.
Haue at you now.
In scuffling they change Rapiers.
King.
Part them, they are incens'd.
Ham.
Nay come, againe.
Osr.
Looke to the Queene there hoa.
Hor.
They bleed on both sides. How is't my Lord?
Osr.
How is't Laertes?
Laer.
Why as a Woodcocke
To mine Sprindge, Osricke,
I am iustly kill'd with mine owne Treacherie.
Ham.
How does the Queene?
King.
She sounds to see them bleede.
Qu.
No, no, the drinke, the drinke.
Oh my deere Hamlet, the drinke, the drinke,
I am poyson'd.
Ham.
Oh Villany! How? Let the doore be lock'd.
Treacherie, seeke it out.
Laer.
It is heere Hamlet.
Hamlet, thou art slaine,
No Medicine in the world can do thee good.
In thee, there is not halfe an houre of life;
The Treacherous Instrument is in thy hand,
Vnbated and envenom'd: the soule practise
Hath turn'd it selfe on me. Loe, heere I lye,
Neuer to rise againe: Thy Mothers poyson'd:
I can no more, the King, the King's too blame.
Ham.
The point envenom'd too,
Then venome to thy worke.
Hurts the King.
All.
Treason, Treason.
King.
O yet defend me Friends, I am but hurt.
Ham.
Heere thou incestuous, murdrous,
Damned Dane,
Drinke off this Potion: Is thy Vnion heere?
Follow my Mother.
King Dyes.
Laer.
He is iustly seru'd.
It is a poyson temp'red by himselfe:
Exchange forgiuenesse with me, Noble Hamlet;
Mine and my Fathers death come not vpon thee,
Nor thine on me.
Dyes.
Ham.
Heauen make thee free of it, I follow thee.
I am dead Horatio, wretched Queene adiew,
You that looke pale, and tremble at this chance,
That are but Mutes or audience to this acte:
Had I but time (as this fell Sergeant death
Is strick'd in his Arrest) oh I could tell you.
But let it be: Horatio, I am dead,
Thou liu'st, report me and my causes right
To the vnsatisfied.
Hor.
Neuer beleeue it.
I am more an Antike Roman then a Dane:
Heere's yet some Liquor left.
Ham.
As th'art a man, giue me the Cup.
Let go, by Heauen Ile haue't.
Oh good Horatio, what a wounded name,
(Things standing thus vnknowne) shall liue behind me.
If thou did'st euer hold me in thy heart,
Absent thee from felicitie awhile,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in paine,
To tell my Storie.
March afarre off, and shout within.
What warlike noyse is this?
Enter Osricke.
Osr.
Yong Fortinbras, with conquest come frō Poland
To th'Ambassadors of England gives this warlike volly.
Ham.
O I dye Horatio:
The potent poyson quite ore-crowes my spirit,
I cannot liue to heare the Newes from England,
But I do prophesie th'election lights
On Fortinbras, he ha's my dying voyce,
So tell him with the occurrents more and lesse,
Which haue solicited. The rest is silence. O, o, o, o.
Dyes
Hora.
Now cracke a Noble heart:
Goodnight sweet Prince,
And flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest,
Why do's the Drumme come hither?
Enter Fortinbras and English Ambassador, with Drumme, Colours, and Attendants.
Fortin.
Where is this sight?
Hor.
What is it ye would see;
If ought of woe, or wonder, cease your search.
For.
His quarry cries on hauocke. Oh proud death,
What feast is toward in thine eternall Cell.
That thou so many Princes, at a shoote,
So bloodily hast strooke.
Amb.
The sight is dismall,
And our affaires from England come too late,
The eares are senselesse that should giue vs hearing,
To tell him his command'ment is fulfill'd,
Where should we haue our thankes?
Hor.
Not from his mouth,
Had it th'abilitie of life to thanke you:
He neuer gaue command'ment for their death.
But since so iumpe vpon this bloodie question,
You from the Polake warres, and you from England
Are heere arriued. Giue order that these bodies
High on a stage be placed to the view,
And let me speake to th'yet vnknowing world,
How these things came about. So shall you heare
Of carnall, bloudie, and vnnaturall acts,
Of accidentall iudgements, casuall slaughters
Of death's put on by cunning, and forc'd cause,
And in this vpshot, purposes mistooke,
Falne on the Inuentors heads. All this can I
Truly deliuer.
For.
Let vs hast to heare it,
And call the Noblest to the Audience.
For me, with sorrow, I embrace my Fortune,
I haue some Rites of memory in this Kingdome,
Which are ro claime, my vantage doth
Inuite me,
Hor.
Of that I shall haue alwayes cause to speake,
And from his mouth
Whose voyce will draw on more:
But let this same be presently perform'd,
Euen whiles mens mindes are wilde,
Lest more mischance
On plots, and errors happen.
For.
Let foure Captaines
Beare Hamlet like a Soldier to the Stage,
For he was likely, had he beene put on
To haue prou'd most royally:
And for his passage,
The Souldiours Musicke, and the rites of Warre
Speake lowdly for him.
Take vp the body; Such a sight as this
Becomes the Field, but heere shewes much amis.
Go, bid the Souldiers shoote.
Exeunt Marching: after the which, a Peale of Ordenance are shot off.
| The Tragedie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke | |