p. 161¶Enter HAMLETHam. Now might I do it pat, now he is praying.And now I'll do't.—And so he goes to heaven;And so am I reveng'd. That would be scann'd.A villain kills my father, and for that,I, his sole son, do this same villain sendTo heaven.Oh, this is hire and salary, not revenge.He took my father grossly, full of bread,[162]With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;And how his audit stands who knows save Heaven ?But in our circumstance and course of thought'Tis heavy with him. And am I then reveng'd,To take him in the purging of his soul,When he is fit and season'd for his passage ?
¶Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent,1When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage,Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed,At gaming, swearing, or about some actThat has no relish of salvation in't,—Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,And that his soul may be as damn'd and blackAs hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays.This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. Exit.King. [Rising.] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below.Words without thoughts never to heaven go. Exit.
¶[SCENE I V . The Queen's closet]
¶Enter QUEEN and POLONIUS
¶Pol. He will come straight. Look you lay home to him.Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,And that your Grace hath screen'd and stood betweenMuch heat and him. I'll silence me e'en here.Pray you, be round with him.Ham. (Within.) Mother, mother, mother!Queen. I'll warrant you, fear me not. Withdraw, I hear himcoming. [POLONIUS hides behind the arras.]
¶Enter HAMLET
¶Ham. Now , mother, what's the matter?Queen. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.Ham. Mother, you have my father much offended.Queen. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.[163]Ham. Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.Queen. Why, how now, Hamlet!Ham. What's the matter now ?Queen. Have you forgot me?Ham. No , by the rood, not so.You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife;But would you were not so! You are my mother.Queen. Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.Ham. Come, come, and sit you down. You shall not budge.You go not till I set you up a glassWhere you may see the inmost part of you.Queen. What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murder me?Help, help, ho!Pol. [Behind.] What, ho! help, help, help!Ham. [Drawing.] How now! A rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!Kills POLONIUS [through the arras}.Pol. [Behind.] O, I am slain!Queen. O me, what hast thou done?Ham. Nay, I know not.Is it the King?Queen. O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!Ham. A bloody deed! Almost as bad, good mother,As kill a king, and marry with his brother.Queen. As kill a king!Ham. Ay, lady, 'twas my word.[Lifts up the arras and discovers POLONIUS.]Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune.Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.—Leave wringing of your hands. Peace! Sit you down,And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,If it be made of penetrable stuff,If damned custom have not braz'd it soThat it is proof and bulwark against sense.1Queen. What have I done, that thou dar'st wag thy tongueIn noise so rude against me ?[164]Ham. Such an actThat blurs the grace and blush of modesty,Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the roseFrom the fair forehead of an innocent loveAnd sets a blister there, makes marriage-vowsAs false as dicers' oaths; O, such a deedAs from the body of contraction 2 plucksThe very soul, and sweet religion makesA rhapsody of words. Heaven's face doth glow,Yea, this solidity and compound mass,With tristful 3 visage, as against the doom, 4Is thought-sick at the act.Queen. Ay me, what act,That roars so loud and thunders in the index? 5Ham. Look here, upon this picture, and on this,The counterfeit presentment 6 of two brothers.See, what a grace was seated on this brow:Hyperion's curls, the front of Jove himself,An eye like Mars, to threaten or command,A station like the herald MercuryNew-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill,A combination and a form indeed,Where every god did seem to set his seal,To give the world assurance of a man.This was your husband. Look you now what follows:Here is your husband, like a mildew'd ear,Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,And batten 7 on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?You cannot call it love, for at your ageThe hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,And waits upon the judgement; and what judgementWould step from this to this? [Sense sure you have,Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense[165]Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'dBut it reserv'd some quantity 8 of choice,To serve in such a difference.] What devil was'tThat thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind? 9[Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,Or but a sickly part of one true senseCould not so mope. 1 0]O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shameWhen the compulsive ardour gives the charge,Since frost itself as actively doth burnAnd reason panders will.Queen. O Hamlet, speak no more!Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul,And there I see such black and grained 1 1 spotsAs will not leave their tinct. 1 2Ham. Nay, but to liveIn the rank sweat of an enseamed 1 3 bed,Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making loveOver the nasty sty,—Queen. O, speak to me no more!These words like daggers enter in mine ears.No more, sweet Hamlet!Ham. A murderer and a villainlA slave that is not twentieth part the titheOf your precedent lord! A vice 1 4 of kings!A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,And put it in his pocket!Queen. No more![166]Enter GhostHam. A king of shreds and patches,—Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?Queen. Alas, he's mad!Ham. Do you not come your tardy son to chide,That, laps'd in time and passion, 1 5 lets go byThe important acting of your dread command?O, say!Ghost. Do not forget! This visitationIs but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.But, look, amazement on thy mother sits.O, step between her and her fighting soul.Conceit 1 6 in weakest bodies strongest works.Speak to her, Hamlet.Ham. How is it with you, lady?Queen. Alas, how is't with you,That you do bend your eye on vacancyAnd with the incorporal air do hold discourse?Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep,And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, 1 7Start up and stand on end. O gentle son,Upon the heat and flame of thy distemperSprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look ?Ham. On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,Would make them capable. 1 8 Do not look upon me,Lest with this piteous action you convertMy stern effects; 1 9 then what I have to doWill want true colour, tears perchance for blood.Queen. To whom do you speak this?Ham. Do you see nothing there ?Queen. Nothing at all, yet all that is I see.[167]Ham. Nor did you nothing hear?Queen. No, nothing but ourselves.Ham. Why, look you there! Look, how it steals away!My father, in his habit as he lived!Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! Exit Ghost.Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain.This bodiless creation ecstasy 2 0Is very cunning in.Ham. Ecstasy!My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,And makes as healthful music. It is not madnessThat I have uttered. Bring me to the test,And I the matter will re-word, which madnessWould gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,Lay not that flattering unction to your soul,That not your trespass, but my madness speaks.It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,Infects unseen. Confess yourself to Heaven;.Repent what's past, avoid what is to come,And do not spread the compost on the weeds,To make them rank. Forgive me this my virtue,For in the fatness of these pursy 2 1 timesVirtue itself of vice must pardon beg,Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.Queen. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.Ham. O, throw away the worser part of it,And live the purer with the other half.Good-night; but go not to mine uncle's bed.Assume a virtue, if you have it not.[That monster, custom, who all sense 2 2 doth eat,Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,That to the use of actions fair and goodHe likewise gives a frock or livery,That aptly is put on.] Refrain to-night,[168]And that shall lend a kind of easinessTo the next abstinence; [the next more easy;For use almost can change the stamp of nature,And either master the devil or throw him out,With wondrous potency.] Once more, good-night;And when you are desirous to be blest,I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord, [Pointing to POLONIUS.]I do repent; but Heaven hath 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 wellThe death I gave him. So, again, good-night.I must be cruel, only to be kind.Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.[One word more, good lady.]Queen. What shall I do?Ham. Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed,Pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his mouse,And let him, for a pair of reechy 2 3 kisses,Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,Make you to ravel all this matter out,That I essentially am not in madness,But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, 2 4Such dear concernings hide ? Who would do so ?No, in despite of sense and secrecy,Unpeg the basket on the house's top,Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape,To try conclusions 2 5 in the basket creep,And break your own neck down.Queen. Be thou assur'd, if words be made of breath,And breath of life, I have no life to breatheWhat thou hast said to me.Ham. I must to England; you know that?[169]Queen. Alack,I had forgot. 'Tis so concluded on.Ham. [There's letters sealed, and my two school-fellows,Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd,They bear the mandate. They must sweep my way,And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;For 'tis the sport to have the enginerHoist with his own petar; 2 6 and't shall go hardBut I will delve one yard below their mines,And blow them at the moon. O, 'tis most sweet,When in one line two crafts directly meet.]This man shall set me packing.I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room.Mother, good-night. Indeed this counsellorIs now most still, most secret, and most grave,Who was in life a foolish prating knave.Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.Good-night, mother.Exeunt [severally,] HAMLET tugging in POLONIUS.
[ Act IV ]
¶[SCENE I. A room in the castle]
Enter KING [ QUEEN, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN]
¶King. There's matter in these sighs; these profound heavesYou must translate; 'tis fit we understand them.Where is your son ?Queen. [Bestow this place on us a little while.]
[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.]
¶Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night!King. What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?Queen. Mad as the seas and wind, when both contendWhich is the mightier. In his lawless fit,Behind the arras hearing something stir,He whips his rapier out, and cries, " A rat, a rat!"
¶M Bomb.[170]And, in his brainish 1 apprehension, killsThe unseen good old man.King. O heavy deed!It had been so with us, had we been there.His liberty is full of threats to all,To you yourself, to us, to every one.Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answered ?It will be laid to us, whose providenceShould have kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt, 2This mad young man. But so much was our love,We would not understand what was most fit,But, like the owner of a foul disease,To keep it from divulging, let it feedEven on the pith of life. Where is he gone ?Queen. To draw apart the body he hath kill'd,O'er whom his very madness, like some oreAmong the mineral of metals base,Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done.King. O Gertrude, come away!The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch,But we will ship him hence, and this vile deedWe must, with all our majesty and skill,Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern!
[Re-]enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN
¶Friends both, go join you with some further aid.Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him.Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the bodyInto the chapel. I pray you, haste in this.
Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
¶Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friendsTo let them know both what we mean to doAnd what's untimely done; [so, haply, slander][Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,As level as the cannon to his blank, 3[171]Transports his poisoned shot, may miss our name,And hit the woundless air.] O, come away!My soul is full of discord and dismay. Exeunt.
¶G°uil } ( Wit n in - ) Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!
Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN
¶Ros. What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?
¶Ham. Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.
¶Ros. Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence
¶And bear it to the chapel.
¶Ham. Do not believe it.
¶Ros. Believe what ?
¶Ham. That I can keep your counsel and not mine own. Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! What replication1 should be made by the son of a king ?
¶Ros. Take you me for a sponge, my lord ?
¶Ham. Ay, sir, that soaks up the King's countenance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the King best service in the end. He keeps them, as an ape doth nuts, in the corner of his jaw; first mouth'd, to be last swallowed. When he needs what you have glean'd, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again. Ros. I understand you not, my lord.
¶Ham. I am glad of it. A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.
¶Ros. My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the King.
¶Ham. The body is with the King, but the King is not with the body. The King is a thing—
¶[SCENE III. Another room in the castle]
¶Enter KING [and two or three]
¶King. I have sent to seek him, and to find the body.How dangerous is it that this man goes loose!Yet must not we put the strong law on him.He's lov'd of the distracted multitude,Who like not in their judgement, but their eyes,And where 'tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd,But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even,This sudden sending him away must seemDeliberate pause. Diseases desperate grownBy desperate appliance are relieved,Or not at all.
Enter ROSENCRANTZ
¶How now! What hath befallen?Ros. Where the dead body is bestow'd, 1 my lord,We cannot get from him.King. But where is he?Ros. Without, my lord, guarded, to know your pleasure.King. Bring him before us.Ros. Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord.
Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN
¶King. Now , Hamlet, where's Polonius?Ham. At supper.King. At supper! Where?Ham. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. A certain convocation of [politic] worms 2 are e'en at him. Your worm is youronly emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat[173]ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is butvariable service, two dishes, but to one table; that's the end.[King. Alas, alas!Ham. A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, andeat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.]King. What dost thou mean by this ?Ham. Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progressthrough the guts of a beggar.King. Where is Polonius ?Ham. In heaven; send thither to see. If your messenger find himnot there, seek him i' the other place yourself. But indeed, if you findhim not [within] this month, you shall nose him as you go up thestairs into the lobby.King. Go seek him there. [To some Attendants.]Ham. He will stay till ye come. [Exeunt Attendants.]King. Hamlet, this deed of thine, for thine especial safety,—Which we do tender, as we dearly grieveFor that which thou hast done,—must send thee henceWith fiery quickness; therefore prepare thyself.The bark is ready, and the wind at help,The associates tend, and everything is bentFor England.Ham. For England?King. Ay , Hamlet.Ham. Good.King. So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.Ham. I see a cherub that sees them. But come, for England! Farewell, dear mother.King. Thy loving father, Hamlet.Ham. My mother. Father and mother is man and wife, man andwife is one flesh, and so, my mother. Come, for England! [Exit.King. Follow him at foot, tempt him with speed aboard.Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night.Away! for everything is seal'd and doneThat else leans on the affair. Pray you, make haste.
[Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.]
¶And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught,—
p. 174¶As my great power thereof may give thee sense,Since yet thy cicatrice 3 looks raw and redAfter the Danish sword, and thy free awePays homage to us—thou mayst not coldly setOur sovereign process, 4 which imports at full,By letters conjuring to that effect,The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;For like the hectic 5 in my blood he rages,And thou must cure me. Till I know 'tis done,Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. Exit.
¶[SCENE I V . A plain in Denmar\]
¶Enter FORTINBRAS, [a Captain,] and army, [marching]For. Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king.Tell him that, by his license, FortinbrasClaims the conveyance of a promis'd marchOver his kingdom. You know the rendezvous.If that his Majesty would aught with us,We shall express our duty in his eye; 1And let him know so.Cap. I will do't, my lord.For. Go softly 2 on. Exeunt FORTINBRAS [and Soldiers],
¶[Enter HAMLET , ROSENCRANTZ, and othersHam. Good sir, whose powers are these?Cap. They are of Norway, sir.Ham. How purpos'd, sir, I pray you?Cap. Against some part of Poland.Ham. Who commands them, sir?Cap. The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras.Ham. Goes it against the main of Poland, sir,Or for some frontier?Cap. Truly to speak, and with no addition,We go to gain a little patch of groundThat hath in it no profit but the name.[175]To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;Nor will it yield to Norway or the PoleA ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.Ham. Why, then the Polack never will defend it.Cap. Yes, it is already garrison'd.Ham. Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducatsWill not debate the question of this straw.This is the imposthume 3 of much wealth and peace,That inward breaks, and shows no cause withoutWhy the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir.Cap. God buy you, sir.Ros. Will ' t please you go, my lord ?Ham. I'll be with you straight. Go a little before.[Exeunt all except HAMLET . ]How all occasions do inform against me,And spur my dull revenge? What is a man,If his chief good and market of his timeBe but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.Sure, He that made us with such large discourse,Looking before and after, gave us notThat capability and god-like reasonTo fust 4 in us unus'd. Now, whether it beBestial oblivion, or some craven scrupleOf thinking too precisely on the event,—A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdomAnd ever three parts coward,—I do not knowWhy yet I live to say, "This thing's to do,"Sith I have cause and will and strength and meansTo do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me;Witness this army of such mass and charge 5Led by a delicate and tender prince,Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'dMakes mouths at the invisible event,Exposing what is mortal and unsureTo all that fortune, death, and danger dare,Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great[176]Is not to stir without great argument, 6But greatly to find quarrel in a strawWhen honour's at the stake. How stand I then,That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,Excitements of my reason and my blood,And let all sleep, while to my shame I seeThe imminent death of twenty thousand men,That for a fantasy and trick 7 of fameGo to their graves like beds, fight for a plotWhereon the numbers cannot try the cause,Which is not tomb enough and continent 8To hide the slain ? O, from this time forth,My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!] Exit.
¶Enter QUEEN, HORATIO [and a Gentleman]Queen. I will not speak with her.[Gent.] She is importunate, indeed distract.Her mood will needs be pitied.Queen. What would she have?[Gent.] She speaks much of her father; says she hearsThere's tricks i' the world, and hems, and beats her heart,Spurns enviously 1 at straws, speaks things in doubtThat carry but half sense. Her speech is nothing,Yet the unshaped use of it doth moveThe hearers to collection. 2 They aim at itAnd botch 3 the words up fit to their own thoughts;Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield them,Indeed would make one think there would be thought,Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.[Hor.] 'Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strewDangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.Let her come in. [Exit Gentleman.Queen. [Aside.] To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,Each toy 4 seems prologue to some great amiss; 5
¶'Matter of dispute. 7Trifle. 8 Receptacle. 1 Kicks ill-naturedly.[177]So full of artless jealousy 6 is guilt,It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
p. 177¶Enter OPHELIA, distractedOph. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?Queen. How now, Ophelia!Oph. [Sings.]"How should I your true love knowFrom another one?By his cockle hat 7 and staff,And his sandal shoon."Queen. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?Oph. Say you ? Nay, pray you, mark.[Sings.] "He is dead and gone, lady,He is dead and gone;At his head a grass-green turfAt his heels a stone."
¶Enter KINGQueen. Nay, but, Ophelia,—Oph. Pray you, mark.[Sings.] "White his shroud as the mountain snow,"—Queen. Alas, look here, my lord.Oph. [Sings.]"Larded 8 with sweet flowers;Which bewept to the grave did not goWith true-love showers."King. How do you, pretty lady?Oph. Well, God 'ild you! They say the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be.God be at your table!King. Conceit 9 upon her father.Oph. Pray you, let's have no words of this, but when they ask youwhat it means, say you this:[178][Sings.] "To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,All in the morning betime,And I a maid at your window,To be your Valentine.
p. 178¶"Then up he rose and donn'd his clothes,And dupp'd 1 0 the chamber door;Let in the maid, that out a maidNever departed more."
¶"By Gis, 1 1 and by Saint Charity,Alack! and, fie for shame!Young men will do't, if they come to't;By Cock, 1 2 they are to blame.
¶"Quoth she, 'Before you tumbled me,You promis'd me to wed.''So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,An thou hadst not come to my bed.'"
¶King. How long hath she been thus ?Oph. I hope all will be well. We must be patient; but I cannotchoose but weep, to think they should lay him i' the cold ground.My brother shall know of it; and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! Good-night, ladies; good-night, sweet ladies;good-night, good-night. Exit.King. Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you.[Exeunt some.]O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springsAll from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude,When sorrows come, they come not single spies,But in battalions. First, her father slain;Next, your son gone; and he most violent author[179]Of his own just remove; the people muddied,Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers,For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenlyIn hugger-mugger 1 3 to inter him; poor OpheliaDivided from herself and her fair judgement,Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts;Last, and as much containing as all these,Her brother is in secret come from France,Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,And wants not buzzers to infect his earWith pestilent speeches of his father's death,Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,Will nothing stick our persons to arraignIn ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,Like to a murdering-piece, 1 4 in many placesGives me superfluous death. A noise within.
p. 179¶Enter a MessengerQueen. Alack, what noise is this?King. Where are my Switzers? 1 5 Let them guard the door. Whatis the matter ?Mess. Save yourself, my lord!The ocean, overpeering of his list, 1 6Eats not the flats with more impetuous hasteThan young Laertes, in a riotous head, 1 7O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him lord;And, as the world were now but to begin,Antiquity forgot, custom not known,(The ratifiers and props of every word,)They cry, "Choose we! Laertes shall be king!"Caps, hands, and tongues applaud it to the clouds,"Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!"Queen. How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!O, this is counter, 1 8 you false Danish dogs![180]Enter LAERTES [armed; Danes following]King. The doors are broke. Noise within.Laer. Where is this king? Sirs, stand you all without.Danes. No , let's come in.Laer. I pray you, give me leave.Danes. We will, we will. [They retire without the door.]Laer. I thank you; keep the door. O thou vile king,Give me my father!Queen. Calmly, good Laertes.Laer. That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard,Cries cuckold to my father, brands the harlotEven here, between the chaste unsmirched browsOf my true mother.King. What is the cause, Laertes,That thy rebellion looks so giant-like ?Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person.There's such divinity doth hedge a king,That treason can but peep to what it would,Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes,Why thou art thus incens'd. Let him go, Gertrude.Speak, man.Laer. Where's my father?King. Dead.Queen. But not by him.King. Let him demand his fill.Laer. How came he dead ? I'll not be juggl'd with.To hell, allegiance! Vows, to the blackest devil!Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit!I dare damnation. To this point I stand,That both the worlds I give to negligence,Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'dMost throughly for my father.King. Who shall stay you?Laer. My will, not all the world.And for my means, I'll husband them so well,They shall go far with little.[181]King. Good Laertes,If you desire to know the certaintyOf your dear father's death, is't writ in your revengeThat, swoopstake, 1 3 you will draw both friend and foe,Winner and loser?Laer. None but his enemies.King. Will you know them then?Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms,And like the kind life-rend'ring pelican,Repast them with my blood.King. Why, now you speakLike a good child and a true gentleman.That I am guiltless of your father's death,And am most sensibly in grief for it,It shall as level to your judgement pierceAs day does to your eye.A noise within: "Let her come in!"
¶Laer. How now! what noise is that?O heat, dry up my brains! Tears seven times saltBurn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weightTill our scale turns the beam. O rose of May!Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!O heavens! is't possible, a young maid's witsShould be as mortal as an old man's life ?Nature is fine 2 0 in love, and where 'tis fine,It sends some precious instance 2 1 of itselfAfter the thing it loves.Oph. [Sings.]
¶"They bore him barefac'd on the bier;Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny;And on his grave rains many a tear,"—
¶"Taking everything in.[182]Fare you well, my dove!Laer. Hadst thou thy wits and didst persuade revenge,It could not move thus.Oph. You must sing, "Down a-down, and you call him a-down-a."O, how the wheel becomes it! 2 2 It is the false steward, that stole hismaster's daughter.Laer. This nothing's more than matter.Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray, love, remember; and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.Laer. A document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted.Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines; there's rue for you,and here's some for me; we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays.O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy. Iwould give you some violets, but they wither'd all when my fatherdied. They say he made a good end,—[Sings.] "For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy."Laer. Thought 2 3 and affliction, passion, hell itself,She turns to favour and to prettiness.Oph. [Sings.]
p. 182¶"And will he not come again?And will he not come again ?No, no, he is dead;Go to thy death-bed;He never will come again.
¶"His beard as white as snow,All flaxen was his poll.He is gone, he is gone,And we cast away moan.God ha' mercy on his soul!"
¶And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God buy ye. Exit.Laer. Do you see this, you gods ?King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief,Or you deny me right. Go but apart,Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will,[183]And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me.If by direct or by collateral handThey find us touch'd, 2 4 we will our kingdom give,Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,To you in satisfaction; but if not,Be you content to lend your patience to us,And we shall jointly labour with your soulTo give it due content.Laer. Let this be so.His means of death, his obscure burial—No trophy, sword, nor hatchment 2 5 o'er his bones,No noble rite nor formal ostentation—Cry to be heard, as't were from heaven to earth,That I must call't in question.King. So you shall;And where the offence is let the great axe fall.I pray you, go with me. Exeunt.
¶Enter HORATIO with an AttendantHor. What are they that would speak with me?Att. Sailors, sir. They say they have letters for you.Hor. Let them come in. [Exit Attendant.]I do not know from what part of the worldI should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
¶Enter SailorSail. God bless you, sir.Hor. Let Him bless thee too.Sail. He shall, sir, an't please Him. There's a letter for you, sir—it comes from the ambassador that was bound for England—if yourname be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.[Hor.] (Reads.) "Horatio, when thou shalt have overlook'd this,give these fellows some means to the King; they have letters for
p. 184¶him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valour. In the grapple I boarded them. On the instant they got clear of our ship, so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy, 1 but they knew what they did: I am to do a good turn for them. Let the King have the letters I have sent, and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou wouldest fly death. I have words to speak in your ear will make thee dumb, yet are they much too light for the bore 2 of the matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England; of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.
¶"He that thou knowest thine,
Hamlet. "
¶Come, I will give you way for these your letters;And do ' t the speedier, that you may direct meTo him from whom you brought them. Exeunt.
¶[SCENE VII. Another room in the castle]
¶Enter KING and LAERTES
¶King. Now must your conscience my acquittance seal;And you must put me in your heart for friend,Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,That he which hath your noble father slainPursued my life.Laer. It well appears. But tell meWhy you proceeded not against these feats,So crimeful and so capital in nature,As by your safety, wisdom, all things else,You mainly were stirr'd up.King. O, for two special reasons,Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd,And yet to me they are strong. The Queen his motherLives almost by his looks; and for myself—[185]My virtue or my plague, be it either which—She's so conjunctive 1 to my life and soul,That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,I could not but by her. The other motiveWhy to a public count I might not go,Is the great love the general gender 2 bear him;Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,Would, like the spring that turneth wood to stone,Convert his gyves 3 to graces; so that my arrows,Too slightly timb'red for so loud a wind,Would have reverted to my bow again,And not where I had aim'd them.Laer. And so have I a noble father lost,A sister driven into desperate terms,Whose worth, if praises may go back again,Stood challenger on mount of all the ageFor her perfections. But my revenge will come.King. Break not your sleeps for that. You must not thinkThat we are made of stuff so flat and dullThat we can let our beard be shook with dangerAnd think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more.I lov'd your father, and we love ourself,And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine—
p. 185¶Enter a Messenger with lettersHow now! What news?Mess. Letters, my lord, from Hamlet.This to your Majesty; this to the Queen.King. From Hamlet! Who brought them ?Mess. Sailors, my lord, they say; I saw them not.They were given me by Claudio. He receiv'd them[Of him that brought them].King. Laertes, you shall hear them.Leave us. Exit Messenger.[Reads.] "High and mighty, You shall know I am set naked onyour kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes,
p. 186¶when I shall, first asking your pardon thereunto, recount the occasions of my sudden and more strange return.
Hamlet. "
¶What should this mean ? Are all the rest come back ?Or is it some abuse, or no such thing?Laer. Know you the hand?King. 'Tis Hamlet's character. "Naked!"And in a postscript here, he says, "alone."Can you advise me ?Laer. I'm lost in it, my lord. But let him come.It warms the very sickness in my heartThat I shall live and tell him to his teeth,"Thus didest thou."King. If it be so, Laertes,—As how should it be so? How otherwise?—Will you be rul'd by me?Laer. [Ay, my lord,]If so you'll not o'errule me to a peace.King. To thine own peace. If he be now return'd,As checking 4 at his voyage, and that he meansNo more to undertake it, I will work himTo an exploit, now ripe in my device,Under the which he shall not choose but fall;And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe,But even his mother shall uncharge the practice 5And call it accident.[Laer. My lord, I will be rul'd;The rather, if you could devise it soThat I might be the organ. 6King. It falls right.You have been talk'd of since your travel much,And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a qualityWherein, they say, you shine. Your sum of partsDid not together pluck such envy from himAs did that one, and that, in my regard,Of the unworthiest siege. 7[187]Laer. What part is that, my lord?King. A very riband in the cap of youth,Yet needful too; for youth no less becomesThe light and careless livery that it wearsThan settled age his sables and his weeds,Importing health and graveness.] Two months since,Here was a gentleman of Normandy;—I've seen myself, and serv'd against, the French,And they can well on horseback; but this gallantHad witchcraft in't. He grew unto his seat,And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,As had he been incorps'd 8 and demi-natur'dWith the brave beast. So far he pass'd my thought,That I, in forgery 9 of shapes and tricks,Come short of what he did.Laer. A Norman, was't?King. A Norman.Laer. Upon my life, Lamound.King. The very same.Laer. I know him well. He is the brooch 1 0 indeedAnd gem of all the nation.King. He made confession of you,And gave you such a masterly reportFor art and exercise in your defence,And for your rapier most especially,That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeedIf one could match you. [The scrimers 1 1 of their nation,He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye,If you oppos'd them.] Sir, this report of hisDid Hamlet so envenom with his envyThat he could nothing do but wish and begYour sudden coming o'er to play with him.Now, out of this—Laer. What out of this, my lord ?King. Laertes, was your father dear to you?Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,[188]A face without a heart ?Laer. Why ask you this ?King. Not that I think you did not love your father,But that I know love is begun by time,And that I see, in passages of proof, 1 2Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.[There lives within the very flame of loveA kind of wick or snuff that will abate it,And nothing is at a like goodness still;For goodness, growing to a plurisy, 1 3Dies in his own too much. That we would do,We should do when we would; for this "would" changes,And hath abatements and delays as manyAs there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;And then this "should" is like a spendthrift sigh,"That hurts by easing. But, to the quick o' the ulcer:—]Hamlet comes back. What would you undertake,To show yourself your father's son in deedMore than in words?Laer. To cut his throat i' the church.King. No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize; 1 5Revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes,Will you do this, keep close within your chamber?Hamlet return'd shall know you are come home.We'll put on those shall praise your excellenceAnd set a double varnish on the fameThe Frenchman gave you, bring you, in fine, togetherAnd wager on your heads. He, being remiss,Most generous and free from all contriving,Will not peruse the foils, so that, with ease,Or with a little shuffling, you may chooseA sword unbated, 1 6 and in a pass of practice"Requite him for your father.Laer. I will do't;And, for that purpose, I'll anoint my sword.[189]I bought an unction of a mountebank, 1 8So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,Where it draws blood no cataplasm 1 9 so rare,Collected from all simples 2 0 that have virtueUnder the moon, can save the thing from deathThat is but scratch'd withal. I'll touch my pointWith this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,It may be death.King. Let's further think of this,Weigh what convenience both of time and meansMay fit us to our shape. If this should fail,And that our drift look through our bad performance,'Twere better not assay'd; therefore this projectShould have a back or second, that might holdIf this should blast in proof. 2 1 Soft! let me see.We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings,—I ha't!When in your motion you are hot and dry—As make your bouts more violent to that end—And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepar'd himA chalice for the nonce, 2 2 whereon but sipping,If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck, 2 3Our purpose may hold there. But stay, what noise?
¶How, sweet queen!Queen. One woe doth tread upon another's heel,So fast they follow. Your sister's drown'd, Laertes.Laer. Drown'd! O , where?Queen. There is a willow grows aslant a brook,That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.There with fantastic garlands did she comeOf crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples 2 4That liberal 2 5 shepherds give a grosser name,But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them;[190]There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weedsClamb'ring to hang, an envious silver broke,When down her weedy trophies and herselfFell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up;Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes,As one incapable of 2 6 her own distress,Or like a creature native and indued 2 7Unto that element. But long it could not beTill that her garments, heavy with their drink,Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious layTo muddy death.Laer. Alas, then, is she drown'd ?Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.Laer. Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,And therefore I forbid my tears. But yetIt is our trick. Nature her custom holds,Let shame say what it will; when these are gone,The woman will be out. Adieu, my lord;I have a speech of fire that fain"would blaze,But that this folly douts 2 8 it. Exit.King. Let's follow, Gertrude.How much I had to do to calm his rage!Now fear I this will give it start again,Therefore let's follow. Exeunt.
[ Act V ]
¶[SCENE I. A churchyard]
¶Enter two Clowns [with spades and pickaxes]
¶1. Clo. Is she to be buried in Christian burial that wilfully seeks her own salvation?
¶2. Clo. I tell thee she is, and therefore make her grave straight. The crowner 1 hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial.
¶1. Clo. How can that be, unless she drown'd herself in her own [191]defence? 2. Clo. Why, 'tis found so.
p. 191¶1. Clo. It must be "se offendendo,"* it cannot be else. For here lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act, and an act hath three branches; it is, to act, to do, and to perform; argal, 3 she drown'd herself wittingly.
¶2. Clo. Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,—
¶1. Clo. Give me leave. Here lies the water; good. Here stands the man; good. If the man go to this water and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he goes,—mark you that? But if the water come to him and drown him, he drowns not himself; argal, he that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.
¶2. Clo. But is this law ?
¶1. Clo. Ay, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.
¶2. Clo. Will you ha' the truth on't ? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o' Christian burial.
¶1. Clo. Why, there thou say'st; and the more pity that great folk should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves, more than their even Christian. 4 Come, my spade. There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers; they hold up Adam's profession.
¶2. Clo. Was he a gentleman ?
¶1. Clo. He was the first that ever bore arms.
¶2. Clo. Why, he had none.
¶1. Clo. What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the Scripture? The Scripture says Adam digg'd; could he dig without arms ? I'll put another question to thee. If thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess thyself—
¶2. Clo. Go to.
¶1. Clo. What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?
¶2. Clo. The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants.
¶1. Clo. I like thy wit well, in good faith. The gallows does well; but how does it well? It does well to those that do ill. Now , thou dost ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the church, argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To ' t again, come.
p. 192¶2. Clo. " Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?"1. Clo. Ay , tell me that, and unyoke.2. Clo. Marry, now I can tell.1. Clo. To ' t .2 . Clo. Mass, I cannot tell.
¶Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, ajar off
¶1. Clo. Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass willnot mend his pace with beating; and, when you are ask'd this question next, say "a grave-maker"; the houses that he makes lasts tilldoomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan; fetch me a stoup of liquor.[Exit Second Clown.][He digs, and] sings."In youth, when I did love, did love,Methought it was very sweet,To contract, O, the time for-a my behove,O, methought, there-a was nothing-a meet."Ham. Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings atgrave-making?Hor. Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness. 5Ham. 'Tis e'en so. The hand of little employment hath thedaintier sense.1. Clo. (Sings.)"But age, with his stealing steps,Hath claw'd me in his clutch,And hath shipped me intil the land,As if I had never been such."[Throws up a skull.]Ham. That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once. Howthe knave jowls 6 it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jaw-bone, 7 thatdid the first murder! It might be the pate of a politician, which thisass now o'erreaches; one that would circumvent God, might it not?Hor. It might, my lord.
p. 193¶Ham. Or of a courtier, which could say, "Good moirow, sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?" This might be my lord such-a-one, that prais'd my lord such-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?
¶Hor. Ay, my lord.
¶Ham. Why , e'en so; and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, and knock'd about the mazzard 8 with a sexton's spade. Here's fine revolution, if we had the trick to see't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but to play at loggats 9 with 'em ? Mine ache to think on't. 1. Clo. (Sings.)
¶" A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,
¶For and a shrouding sheet;
¶O, a pit of clay for to be made
¶For such a guest is meet."
¶[Throws up another s\ull.]
¶Ham. There's another. Why might not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddits 1 0 now, his quillets, 1 0 his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? Why does he suffer this rude knave now to knock him about the sconce 1 1 with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his action of battery? Hum! This fellow might be in 's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries. 1 2 Is this the fine of his fines, and the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt? Will his vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than the length and breadth of a pair of indentures ? The very conveyances of his lands will hardly lie in this box, and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?
¶Hor. Not a jot more, my lord.
¶Ham. Is not parchment made of sheep-skins?
¶Hor. Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.
¶Ham. They are sheep and calves that seek out assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow. Whose grave's this, sir ?
¶1. Clo. Mine, sir.
¶[Sings.] " O , a pit of clay for to be made
¶For such a guest is meet."
p. 194¶Ham. I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in't.i. Clo. You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not yours. For mypart, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.Ham. Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say 'tis thine. 'Tis for thedead, not for the quick, therefore thou liest.i. Clo. 'Tis a quick 1 3 lie, sir; 'twill away again, from me to you.Ham. What man dost thou dig it for?i. Clo. For no man, sir.Ham. What woman, then?i. Clo. For none, neither.Ham. Who is to be buried in ' t ?i. Clo. One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.Ham. How absolute the knave is! We must speak by the card, orequivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, these three yearsI have taken note of it; the age is grown so picked 1 4 that the toe of thepeasant comes so near the heels of our courtier, he galls his kibe. 1 5How long hast thou been a grave-maker ?i. Clo. Of all the days i' the year, I came to ' t that day that ourlast king Hamlet o'ercame Fortinbras.Ham. How long is that since?i. Clo. Cannot you tell that? Every fool can tell that. It was thevery day that young Hamlet was born; he that was mad, and sent intoEngland.Ham. Ay , marry, why was he sent into England?i. Clo. Why , because 'a was mad. He shall recover his wits there;or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.Ham. Why ?i. Clo. 'Twill not be seen in him there; there the men are as madas he.Ham. How came he mad?i. Clo. Very strangely, they say.Ham. How "strangely" ?i. Clo. Faith, e'en with losing his wits.. Ham. Upon what ground?i. Clo. Why , here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man andboy, thirty years.Ham. How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?
p. 195¶1. Clo. Y faith, if he be not rotten before he die—as we have many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarce hold the laying in—he will last you some eight year or nine year. A tanner will last you nine year.
¶Ham. Why he more than another?
¶1. Clo. Why, sir, his hide is so tann'd with his trade that he will keep out water a great while, and your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body. Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earth three and twenty years.
¶Ham. Whose was it?
¶1. Clo. A whoreson mad fellow's it was. Whose do you think it was?
¶Ham. Nay, I know not.
¶1. Clo. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! ' A pour'd a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the King's jester.
¶Ham. This?
¶1. Clo. E'en that.
¶Ham. Let me see. [Takes the skull.] Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times. And now how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kiss'd I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now, your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? Quite chopfalien ? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come. Make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.
¶Hor. What's that, my lord?
¶Ham. Dost thou think Alexander look'd o' this fashion i' the earth ?
¶Hor. E'en so.
¶Ham. And smelt so? Pah! [Puts down the skull.] Hor. E'en so, my lord.
¶Ham. To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till he find it stopping a bung-hole ?
¶Hor. 'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.
p. 196¶Ham. No , faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty 1 6 enough and likelihood to lead it; as thus: Alexander died,Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth into dust, the dust isearth, of earth we make loam, and why of that loam whereto hewas converted might they not stop a beer-barrel ?Imperial Csesar, dead and turn'd to clay,Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw!"But soft! but soft! Aside! Here comes the King,
¶Enter [Priests, etc., in procession;] KING , QUEEN, LAERTES, and a
¶Coffin, with Lords attendantThe Queen, the courtiers. Who is that they follow?And with such maimed rites? This doth betokenThe corse they follow did with desperate handFordo 1 8 it 1 9 own life. 'Twas of some estate.Couch we a while, and mark. [Retiring with HORATIO.]Laer. What ceremony else ?Ham. That is Laertes,.a very noble youth. Mark.Laer. What ceremony else?Priest. Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'dAs we have warrantise. Her death was doubtful;And, but that great command o'ersways the order,She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'dTill the last trumpet; for charitable prayer,Shards, 2 0 flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her.Yet here she is allowed her virgin rites,Her maiden strewments, 2 1 and the bringing homeOf bell and burial.Laer. Must there no more be done ?Priest. No more be done.We should profane the service of the deadTo sing such requiem and such rest to herAs to peace-parted souls.Laer. Lay her i' the earth,[197]And from her fair and unpolluted fleshMay violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priestA minist'ring angel shall my sister be,When thou liest howling.Ham. What, the fair Ophelia!Queen. Sweets to the sweet; farewell! [Scattering flowers.]I hop'd thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife.I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,And not to have strew'd thy grave.Laer. O, treble woeFall ten times treble on that cursed headWhose wicked deed thy most ingenious senseDepriv'd thee of! Hold off the earth a while,Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.Leaps in the grave.Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,Till of this flat a mountain you have madeTo o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish headOf blue Olympus.Ham. [Advancing.] What is he whose griefBears such an emphasis, whose phrase of sorrowConjures the wand'ring stars and makes them standLike wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,Hamlet, the Dane! [Leaps into the grave.]Laer. The devil take thy soul! [Grappling with him.]Ham. Thou pray'st not well.I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat,For, though I am not splenitive 2 2 and rash,Yet have I something in me dangerous,Which let thy wiseness fear. Away thy hand!King. Pluck them asunder.Queen. Hamlet, Hamlet![All. Gentlemen,—Hor.] Good my lord, be quiet.[The Attendants part them, and theycome out of the grave.]
p. 197¶S 2 Easily angry.[198]Ham. Why, I will fight with him upon this themeUntil my eyelids will no longer wag.Queen. O my son, what theme?Ham. I lov'd Ophelia. Forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?King. O , he is mad, Laertes.Queen. For love of God, forbear him.Ham. ['Swounds,] show me what thou 'It do.Woo ' t 2 3 weep? Woo ' t fight? [ Woo ' t fast?] Woo ' t tear thyself ?Woo ' t drink up eisel? 2 4 Eat a crocodile?I'll do ' t . Dost thou come here to whine ?To outface me with leaping in her grave?Be buried quick with her, and so will I ;And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throwMillions of acres on us, till our ground,Singeing his pate against the burning zone,Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou 'It mouth,I'll rant as well as thou.[Queen.] .This is mere madness,And thus a while the fit will work on him.Anon, as patient as the female dove,When that her golden couplets 2 5 are disclos'd,His silence will sit drooping.Ham. Hear you, sir,What is the reason that you use me thus?I lov'd you ever. But it is no matter.Let Hercules himself do what he may,The cat will mew and dog will have his day. Exit.King. I pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him. [Exit HORATIO.][To LAERTES.] Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;We'll put the matter to the present push. 2 6Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.This grave shall have a living monument.An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;Till then, in patience our proceeding be. Exeunt.
¶23Wouldst thou. 2 4 Vinegar. 2 5 Pair of young doves. 2 6 Immediate operation.
¶Enter HAMLET and HORATIO
¶Ham. So much for this, sir; now let me see the other.You do remember all the circumstance?Hor. Remember it, my lord!Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,That would not let me sleep. Methought I layWorse than the mutines in the bilboes. 1 Rashly,—And prais'd be rashness for it; let us knowOur indiscretion sometimes serves us wellWhen our deep plots do pall; 2 and that should teach usThere's a divinity that shapes our ends,Rough-hew them how we will,—Hor. That is most certain.Ham. Up from my cabin,My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the darkGrop'd I to find out them; had my desire;Finger'd their packet; and, in fine, withdrewTo mine own room again, making so bold,My fears forgetting manners, to unsealTheir grand commission; where I found, Horatio,—O royal knavery!—an exact command,Larded 3 with many several sorts of reasonImporting Denmark's health and England's too,With, ho! such bugs 4 and goblins in my life,That, on the supervise, 5 no leisure bated,No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,My head should be struck off.Hor. Is't possible?Ham. Here's the commission; read it at more leisure.But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?Hor. I beseech you.Ham. Being thus be-netted round with villainies,—Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,[200]They had begun the play,—I sat me down,Devis'd a new commission, wrote it fair.I once did hold it, as our statists 6 do,A baseness to write fair, and labour'd muchHow to forget that learning; but, sir, nowIt did me yeoman's service. Wilt thou knowThe effect 7 of what I wrote?Hor. Ay , good my lord.Ham. An earnest conjuration from the King,As England was his faithful tributary,As love between them as the palm should flourish,As Peace should still her wheaten garland wearAnd stand a comma 8 'tween their amities,And many such-like as-es of great charge,That, on the view and knowing of these contents,Without debatement further, more or less,He should the bearers put to sudden death,Not shriving time allow'd.Hor. How was this seal'd ?Ham. Why , even in that was Heaven ordinant.'I had my father's signet in my purse,Which was the model of that Danish seal;Folded the writ up in form of the other,Subscrib'd it, gave't the impression, 1 0 plac'd it safely,The changeling never known. Now , the next dayWas our sea-fight; and what to this was sequentThou know'st already.Hor. So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.Ham. Why, man, they did make love to this employment;They are not near my conscience. Their defeatDoth by their own insinuation grow.'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comesBetween the pass 1 1 and fell incensed pointsOf mighty opposites. 1 2Hor. Why, what a king is this![201]Ham. Does it not, thinks't thee, stand me now upon— 1 3He that hath kill'd my king and whor'd my mother,Popp'd in between the election and my hopes,Thrown out his angle for my proper 1 4 life,And with such cozenage 1 5—is't not perfect conscience,To quit him with this arm? And is ' t not to be damn'd,To let this canker of our nature comeIn further evil?Hor. It must be shortly known to him from EnglandWhat is the issue of the business there.Ham. It will be short; the interim is mine,And a man's life's no more than to say "One."But I am very sorry, good HoratioThat to Laertes I forgot myself;For, by the image of my cause, I seeThe portraiture of his. I'll court his favours.But, sure, the bravery 1 6 of his grief did put meInto a tow'ring passion.Hor. Peace! who comes here?
p. 201¶Enter Young OSRICOsr. Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.Ham. I humbly thank you, sir.—Dost know this waterfly?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 hiscrib shall stand at the King's mess. 'Tis a chough, 1 7 but, as I say,spacious in the possession of dirt.Osr. Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should impart athing to you from his Majesty.Ham. I will receive it with all diligence of spirit. Put your bonnetto his right use; 'tis for the head.Osr. I thank your lordship, 'tis very hot.Ham. No , believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind is northerly.Osr. It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.
p. 202¶Ham. Methinks it is very sultry and hot for my complexion.
¶Osr. Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,—as 'twere,—I cannot tell how. But, my lord, his Majesty bade me signify to you that he has laid a great wager on your head. Sir, this is the matter,—
¶Ham. I beseech you, remember—
¶[ HAMLET moves him to put on his hat.}
¶Osr. Nay, in good faith; for mine ease, in good faith. [Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes, believe me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent differences, 1 8 of very soft society and great showing; indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card 1 9 or calendar 2 0 of gentry, for you shall find in him the continent 2 1 of what part a gentleman would see.
¶Ham. Sir, his definement 2 2 suffers no perdition 2 3 in you; though, I know, to divide him inventorially would dizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw 2 4 neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article; 2 5 and his infusion of such dearth and rareness, as, to make true diction of him, his semblable 2 6 is his mirror; and who else would trace him, his umbrage, 2 7 nothing more.
¶Osr. Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.
¶Ham. The concernancy, 2 8 sir? Why do we wrap the gentleman in our more rawer breath?
¶Osr. Sir?
¶Hor. Is't not possible to understand in another tongue ? You will do't, sir, really.
¶Ham. What imports the nomination of this gentleman?
¶Osr. Of Laertes ?
¶Hor. His purse is empty already. All ' s golden words are spent. Ham. Of him, sir.
¶Osr. I know you are not ignorant—
¶Ham. I would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did, it would not much approve me. Well, sir ? ]
¶Osr. You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is—
¶[Ham. I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in excellence; but to know a man well were to know himself.
p. 203¶Osr. I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation laid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.]
¶Ham. What's his weapon?
¶Osr. Rapier and dagger.
¶Ham. That's two of his weapons; but well.
¶Osr. The King, sir, has wag'd with him six Barbary horses, against the which he has impon'd, 2 9 as I take it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their assigns, 3 0 as girdle, hanger, or so. Three of the carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very responsive 3 1 to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberal conceit. 3 2
¶Ham. What call you the carriages?
¶[Hor. I knew you must be edified by the margent 3 3 ere you had done.]
¶Osr. The carriages, sir, are the hangers.
¶Ham. The phrase would be more germane to the matter, if we could carry cannon by our sides; I would it might be hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horses against six French swords, their assigns, and three liberal-conceited carriages; that's the French bet against the Danish. Why is this "impon'd," as you call it ?
¶Osr. The King, sir, hath laid that in a dozen passes between you and him, he shall not exceed you three hits; he hath laid on twelve for nine; and that would come to immediate trial, if your lordship would vouchsafe the answer.
¶Ham. How if I answer no?
¶Osr. I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.
¶Ham. Sir, I will walk here in the hall; if it please his Majesty, 'tis the breathing 3 4 time of day with me. Let the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpose, I will win for him if I can; if not, I'll gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.
¶Osr. Shall I re-deliver you e'en so?
¶Ham. To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.
¶Osr. I commend my duty to your lordship.
¶Ham. Yours, yours. [Exit OSRIC ] He does well to commend it himself; there are no tongues else for's [204]turn. Hor. This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.
p. 204¶Ham. He did comply 3 5 with his dug before he suck'd it. Thus has he, and many more of the same bevy that I know the drossy age dotes on, only got the tune of the time and outward habit of encounter; a kind of yesty collection, which carries them through and through the most fond and winnowed 3 6 opinions; and do but blow them to their trials, the bubbles are out.
¶[Enter a Lord
¶Lord. My lord, his Majesty commended him to you by young Osric, who brings back to him, that you attend him in the hall. He sends to know if your pleasure hold to play with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.
¶Ham. I am constant to my purposes; they follow the King's pleasure. If his fitness speaks, mine is ready, now or whensoever, provided I be so able as now.
¶Lord. The King and Queen and all are coming down.
¶Ham. In happy time.
¶Lord. The Queen desires you to use some gentle entertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.
¶Ham. She well instructs me.] [Exit Lord.] Hor. You will lose this wager, my lord.
¶Ham. I do not think so; since he went into France, I have been in continual practice. I shall win at the odds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's here about my heart. But it is no matter.
¶Hor. Nay, good my lord,—
¶Ham. It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of gain-giving, 3 7 as would perhaps trouble a woman.
¶Hor. If your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will forestall their repair hither, and say you are not fit.
¶Ham. Not a whit; we defy augury. There's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come; the readiness is all. Since no man has aught of what he leaves, 3 8 what is ' t to leave betimes? [Let [205]be.] Enter KING , QUEEN, LAERTES, [OSRIC,] Lords, and other Attendants
p. 205¶with foils and gauntlets; a table and flagons of wine on itKing. Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
¶[The KING puts LAERTES'S hand into HAMLET ' S . ]
¶Ham. Give me your pardon, sir. I've done you wrong,But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.This presence 3 9 knows,And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'dWith sore distraction. What I have doneThat might your nature, honour, and exception 4 0Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.Was ' t Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet!If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.Who does it, then ? His madness. If't be so,Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.Sir, in this audience,Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd evilFree me so far in your most generous thoughts,That I have shot mine arrow o'er the houseAnd hurt my brother.Laer. I am satisfied in nature,Whose motive, in this case, should stir me mostTo my revenge; but in my terms of honourI stand aloof, and will no reconcilement,Till by some elder masters of known honourI have a voice and precedent of peace,To keep my name ungor'd. 4 1 But till that time,I do receive your offer'd love like love,And will not wrong it.Ham. I embrace it freely,And will this brother's wager frankly play.Give us the foils. Come on.[206]Laer. Come, one for me.Ham. I'll be your foil, Laertes; in mine ignoranceYour skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night,Stick fiery off 42 indeed.Laer. You mock me, sir.Ham. No , by this hand.King. Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,You know the wager ?Ham. Very well, my lord.Your Grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.King. I do not fear it, I have seen you both;But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.Laer. This is too heavy, let me see another.Ham. This likes me well. These foils have all a length?They prepare to play.Osr. Ay, my good lord.King. Set me the stoups of wine upon that table.If Hamlet give the first or second hit,Or quit in answer of the third exchange,Let all the battlements their ordnance fire.The King shall drink to Hamlet's better breath,And in the cup an union1 3 shall he throw,Richer than that which four successive kingsIn Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups,And let the kettle to the trumpets speak,The trumpet to the cannoneer without,The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth," Now the King drinks to Hamlet." Come, begin;And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.Ham. Come on, sir.Laer. Come, my lord. They play.Ham. One.Laer. No .Ham. Judgement.Osr. A hit, a very palpable hit.Laer. Well; again.[207]King. Stay, give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;Here's to thy health! Give him the cup.[Trumpets sound, and shot goes off[within.]Ham. I'll play this bout first; set it by a while.Come. [They play.] Another hit; what say you?Laer. A touch, a touch, I do confess.King. Our son shall win.Queen. He's fat, and scant of breath.Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows.The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.Ham. Good madam!King. Gertrude, do not drink.Queen. I will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.King. [Aside.] It is the poison'd cup; it is too late.Ham. I dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.Queen. Come, let me wipe thy face.Laer. My lord, I'll hit him now.King. I do not think't.Laer. [Aside.] And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.Ham. Come, for the third, Laertes; you but dally.I pray you, pass with your best violence.I am afeard you make a wanton of me.Laer. Say you so? Come on. They play.Osr. Nothing, neither way.Laer. Have at you now!
p. 207¶[LAERTES wounds HAMLET ; then,]
¶in scuffling, they change rapiers. King. Part them; they are incens'd.
¶Ham. Nay, come, again.
¶[ HAMLET wounds LAERTES. The QUEEN falls.]
¶Osr. Look to the Queen there! Ho !Hor. They bleed on both sides. How is't, my lord!Osr. How is't, Laertes?Laer. Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe,1 4 Osric;I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.[208]Ham. How does the Queen?King. She swounds to see them bleed.Queen. No , no, the drink, the drink,—O my dear Hamlet,—The drink, the drink! I am poison'd. [Dies.]Ham. O villainy! Ho! let the door be lock'd:Treachery! Seek it out.Laer. It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain.No medicine in the world can do thee good;In thee there is not half an hour of life.The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,Unbated and envenom'd. The foul practice 4 5Hath turn'd itself on me. Lo, here I lie,Never to rise again. Thy mother's poison'd.I can no more:—the King, the King's to blame.Ham. The point envenom'd too!Then, venom, to thy work. Hurts the KING.All. Treason! treason!King. O, yet defend me, friends; I am but hurt.Ham. Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,Drink off this potion! Is thy union here?Follow my mother! KING dies.Laer. He is justly serv'd;It is a poison temp'red 4 6 by himself.Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet.Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,Nor thine on me! Dies.Ham. Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!You that look pale and tremble at this chance,That are but mutes or audience to this act,Had I but time—as this fell sergeant, Death,Is strict in his arrest—O, I could tell you—But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;Thou liv'st. Report me and my cause arightTo the unsatisfied.Hor- Never believe it.[209]I am more an antique Roman than a Dane;Here's yet some liquor left.Ham. As thou 'rt a man,Give me the cup. Let go! By heaven, I'll have't!0 good Horatio, what a wounded name,Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,Absent thee from felicity a whileAnd in this harsh world draw thy breath in painTo tell my story. [March afar off, and shot within.What warlike noise is this ?Osr. Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,To the ambassadors of England givesThis warlike volley.Ham. O , I die, Horatio;The potent poison quite o'er-crows 4 7 my spirit.I cannot live to hear the news from England,But I do prophesy the election lightsOn Fortinbras; he has my dying voice.So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,Which have solicited 4 8—The rest is silence. Dies.Hor. Now cracks a noble heart. Good-night, sweet prince,And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!Why does the drum come hither? [March within.]
p. 209¶Enter FORTINBRAS and the English Ambassador, with drum, colours.and AttendantsFort. Where is this sight?Hor. What is it ye would see ?If aught of Woe or wonder, cease your search.Fort. This quarry 4 9 cries on havoc. O proud Death,What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,That thou so many princes at a shotSo bloodily hast struck?Amb. The sight is dismal,And our affairs from England come too late.[210]The ears are senseless that should give us hearing,To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead.Where should we have our thanks?Hor. Not from his mouth,Had it the ability of life to thank you.He never gave commandment for their death.But since, so jump 3 0 upon this bloody question,You from the Polack wars, and you from England,Are here arrived, give order that these bodiesHigh on a stage be placed to the view;And let me speak to the yet unknowing worldHow these things came about. So shall you hearOf carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,Of accidental judgements, casual slaughters,Of deaths put on by cunning and forc'd cause,And, in this upshot, purposes mistookFallen on the inventors' heads: all this can ITruly deliver.Fort. Let us haste to hear it,And call the noblest to the audience.For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune.I have some rights of memory 5 1 in this kingdom,Which now to claim, my vantage doth invite me.Hor. Of that I shall have also cause to speak,And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more.But let this same be presently 5 2 perform'dEven while men's minds are wild, lest more mischance,On plots and errors, happen.Fort. Let four captainsBear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage,For he was likely, had he been put on, 5 3To have prov'd most royally; and, for his passage, 5 4The soldiers' music and the rites of warSpeak loudly for him.