_Re-enter_ Ghost _and_ HAMLET (L.H.U.E.)
_Ham._ (R.) Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak; I'll go no further.
_Ghost._ (L.) Mark me.
_Ham._ I will.
_Ghost._ My hour is almost come,
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
Must render up myself.
_Ham._ Alas, poor ghost!
_Ghost._ Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing
To what I shall unfold.
_Ham._ Speak; I am bound to hear.
_Ghost._ So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.
_Ham._ What?
_Ghost._ I am thy father's spirit;
Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,[100]
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul;[101] freeze thy young blood;
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres;
Thy knotted and combinèd locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end,[102]
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine:[103]
But this eternal blazon[104] must not be
To ears of flesh and blood.--List, list, O, list!--
If thou didst ever thy dear father love,----
_Ham._ O Heaven!
_Ghost._ Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
_Ham._ Murder!
_Ghost._ Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
_Ham._ Haste me to know it, that I, with wings as swift
As meditation or the thoughts of love,
May sweep to my revenge.
_Ghost._ I find thee apt;
And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed
That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,[105]
Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear:
'Tis given out that, sleeping in mine orchard,[106]
A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged process[107] of my death
Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father's life
Now wears his crown.
_Ham._ O, my prophetic soul! my uncle!
_Ghost._ Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,
With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,
Won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming virtuous queen:
O, Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!
From me, whose love was of that dignity,
That it went hand in hand even with the vow
I made to her in marriage; and to decline
Upon a wretch,[108] whose natural gifts were poor
To those of mine!
But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;
Brief let me be.--Sleeping within mine orchard,
My custom always in the afternoon,
Upon my secure[109] hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of cursed hebenon[110] in a vial,
And in the porches of mine ears did pour
The leperous distilment; whose effect
Holds such an enmity with blood of man,
That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through
The natural gates and alleys of the body;
So did it mine;
Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand
Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatch'd:[111]
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd;[112]
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head.
_Ham._ O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!
_Ghost._ If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury[113] and damnèd incest.
But, howsoever thou pursu'st this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught: leave her to Heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his ineffectual fire:[114]
Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.
[_Exit_, L.H.]
_Ham._ Hold, hold, my heart;
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
But bear me stiffly up.--Remember thee!
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
In this distracted globe.[115] Remember thee!
Yea, from the table of my memory
I'll wipe away all forms, all pressures past,[116]
And thy commandment all alone shall live
Within the book and volume of my brain,
Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven,
I have sworn't.
_Hor._ (_Without._) My lord, my lord,----
_Mar._ (_Without._) Lord Hamlet,----
_Hor._ (_Without._) Heaven secure him!
_Ham._ So be it!
_Mar._ (_Without._) Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
_Ham._ Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.[117]
_Enter_ HORATIO _and_ MARCELLUS (L.H.U.E.)
_Mar._ (R.) How is't, my noble lord?
_Hor._ (L.) What news, my lord?
_Ham._ (C.) O, wonderful!
_Hor._ Good my lord, tell it.
_Ham._ No;
You will reveal it.
_Hor._ Not I, my lord, by heaven.
_Mar._ Nor I, my lord.
_Ham._ How say you, then; would heart of man once think it?
But you'll be secret?--
_Hor._}
} Ay, by heaven, my lord.
_Mar._}
_Ham._ There's ne'er a villain, dwelling in all Denmark--
But he's an arrant knave.[118]
_Hor._ There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave
To tell us this.
_Ham._ Why, right; you are in the right;
And so, without more circumstance at all,
I hold it fit that we shake hands, and part:
You as your business and desire shall point you,
For every man hath business and desire,
Such as it is;--and, for my own poor part,
Look you, I will go pray.
_Hor._ These are but wild and whirling words,[119] my lord.
_Ham._ I am sorry they offend you, heartily.
_Hor._ There's no offence, my lord.
_Ham._ Yes, by Saint Patrick,[120] but there is, Horatio,
And much offence, too. Touching this vision here,
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you:
For your desire to know what is between us,
O'er-master it[121] as you may. And now, good friends,
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.
_Hor._ What is't, my lord?
We will.
_Ham._ Never make known what you have seen to-night.
_Hor._}
} My lord, we will not.
_Mar._}
_Ham._ Nay, but swear't.
_Hor._ Propose the oath, my lord.
_Ham._ Never to speak of this that you have seen.
Swear by my sword.
[HORATIO _and_ MARCELLUS _place each their right
hand on_ HAMLET'S _sword._]
_Ghost._ (_Beneath._) Swear.
_Hor._ O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!
_Ham._ And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.[122]
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
But come;--
Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,
How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,
As I, perchance, hereafter shall think meet
To put an antick disposition[123] on,--
That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber'd thus,[124] or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As, _Well, we know_; or, _We could, an if we would_; or, _If
we list to speak_;--or, _There be, an if they might_;--
Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
That you know aught of me:--This do you swear,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you!
[HORATIO _and_ MARCELLUS _again place their hands on_ HAMLET'S
_sword._]
_Ghost._ (_Beneath._) Swear.
_Ham._ Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So gentlemen,
With all my love I do commend me to you:
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
May do, to express his love and friending to you,
Heaven willing, shall not lack.[125] Let us go in together;
[_Crosses to_ L.]
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
The time is out of joint;--O cursèd spite,
That ever I was born to set it right!
Nay, come, let's go together.
[_Exeunt_ L.H.]
END OF ACT FIRST.
Notes
Act I
[Footnote I.1: _Me:_] _i.e., me_ who am already on the watch, and
have a right to demand the watch-word.]
[Footnote I.2: _Unfold_] Announce, make known.]
[Footnote I.3: _Long live the King._] The watch-word.]
[Footnote I.4: _The rivals of my watch_,] _Rivals_, for partners
or associates.]
[Footnote I.5: _And liegemen to the Dane._] _i.e._, owing
allegiance to Denmark.]
[Footnote I.6: _A piece of him._] Probably a cant expression.]
[Footnote I.7: _To watch the minutes of this night_; This seems
to have been an expression common in Shakespeare's time.]
[Footnote I.8: _Approve our eyes_,] To _approve_, in
Shakespeare's age, signified to make good or establish.]
[Footnote I.9: _What we have seen._] We must here supply "with,"
or "by relating" before "what we have seen."]
[Footnote I.10: _It harrows me with fear and wonder._] _i.e._, it
confounds and overwhelms me.]
[Footnote I.11: _Usurp'st this time of night_,] _i.e._, abuses,
uses against right, and the order of things.]
[Footnote I.12: _I might not this believe, &c._] I _could_ not:
it had not been permitted me, &c., without the full and perfect
evidence, &c.]
[Footnote I.13: _Jump at this dead hour_,] _Jump_ and _just_ were
synonymous in Shakespeare's time.]
[Footnote I.14: _In what particular thought to work_,] In what
particular course to set my thoughts at work: in what particular
train to direct the mind and exercise it in conjecture.]
[Footnote I.15: _Gross and scope_] Upon the whole, and in a
general view.]
[Footnote I.16: _Bodes some strange eruption to our state_,]
_i.e._, some political distemper, which will break out in
dangerous consequences.]
[Footnote I.17: _Palmy state_] Outspread, flourishing. Palm
branches were the emblem of victory.]
[Footnote I.18: _Sound, or use of voice_,] Articulation.]
[Footnote I.19:
_Uphoarded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the womb of earth_,]
So in Decker's Knight's Conjuring, &c. "If any of them had bound
the spirit of gold by any charmes _in cares_, or in iron fetters,
_under the ground_, they should, _for their own soule's quiet
(which, questionless, else would whine up and down_,) not for the
good of their children, release it."]
[Footnote I.20:
_And then it started like a guilty thing
Upon a fearful summons._]
Apparitions were supposed to fly from the crowing of the cock,
because it indicated the approach of day.]
[Footnote I.21: _Lofty_] High and loud.]
[Footnote I.22: _The extravagant and erring spirit_]
_Extravagant_ is, got out of his bounds. _Erring_ is here used in
the sense of wandering.]
[Footnote I.23: Laertes is unknown in the original story, being
an introduction of Shakespeare's.]
[Footnote I.24: _Green_;] Fresh.]
[Footnote I.25: _Wisest sorrow_] Sober grief, passion discreetly
reined.]
[Footnote I.26: _With a defeated joy_,] _i.e._, with joy baffled;
with joy interrupted by grief.]
[Footnote I.27: _Barr'd_] Excluded--acted without the concurrence
of.]
[Footnote I.28: _Your leave and favour_] The favour of your leave
granted, the kind permission. Two substantives with a copulative
being here, as is the frequent practice of our author, used for
an adjective and substantive: an adjective sense is given to a
substantive.]
[Footnote I.29: _Upon his will I sealed my hard consent:_] At or
upon his earnest and importunate suit, I gave my full and final,
though hardly obtained and reluctant, consent.]
[Footnote I.30:
_Take thy fair hour! time be thine;
And thy best graces spend it at thy will!_]
Catch the auspicious moment! be time thine own! and may the
exercise of thy fairest virtue fill up those hours, that are
wholly at your command!]
[Footnote I.31: _A little more than kin, and less than kind._]
Dr. Johnson says that _kind_ is the Teutonic word for _child_.
Hamlet, therefore, answers to the titles of _cousin_ and _son_,
which the king had given him, that he was somewhat more than
_cousin_, and less than _son_. Steevens remarks, that it seems to
have been another proverbial phrase: "The nearer we are in blood,
the further we must be from love; the greater the _kindred_ is,
the less the _kindness_ must be." _Kin_ is still used in the
Midland Counties for _cousin_, and _kind_ signifies _nature_.
Hamlet may, therefore, mean that the relationship between them
had become _unnatural_.]
[Footnote I.32: _I am too much i'the sun._] Meaning, probably,
his being sent for from his studies to be exposed at his uncle's
marriage as his _chiefest courtier_, and being thereby placed too
much in the radiance of the king's presence; or, perhaps, an
allusion to the proverb, "_Out of Heaven's blessing, into the
warm sun:_" but it is not unlikely that a quibble is meant
between _son_ and _sun_.]
[Footnote I.33: _Nighted colour_] Black--night-like.]
[Footnote I.34: _Vailed lids_] Cast down.]
[Footnote I.35: _Which passeth show_;] _i.e._, "external manners
of lament."]
[Footnote I.36: _Trappings_] _Trappings_ are "furnishings."]
[Footnote I.37: _That father lost, lost his_;] "That lost father
(of your father, _i.e._, your grandfather), or father so lost,
lost his.]"
[Footnote I.38: _Do obsequious sorrow:_] Follow with becoming and
ceremonious observance the memory of the deceased.]
[Footnote I.39: _But to perséver_] This word was anciently
accented on the second syllable.]
[Footnote I.40: _Obstinate condolement_,] Ceaseless and
unremitted expression of grief.]
[Footnote I.41: _Incorrect to Heaven._] Contumacious towards
Heaven.]
[Footnote I.42: _Unprevailing_] Fruitless, unprofitable.]
[Footnote I.43: _Sits smiling to my heart:_] _To_ is _at_:
gladdens my heart.]
[Footnote I.44: _In grace whereof_,] _i.e._, respectful regard or
honour of which.]
[Footnote I.45: _No jocund health, that Denmark drinks to-day_,]
Dr. Johnson remarks, that the king's intemperance is very
strongly impressed; everything that happens to him gives him
occasion to drink. The Danes were supposed to be hard drinkers.]
[Footnote I.46: _Resolve itself_] _To resolve_ is an old word
signifying _to dissolve_.]
[Footnote I.47: _His canon_] _i.e._, his rule or law].
[Footnote I.48: _The uses of this world!_] _i.e._, the habitudes
and usages of life.]
[Footnote I.49: _Merely._] Wholly--entirely.]
[Footnote I.50: _Hyperion to a satyr:_] An allusion to the
exquisite beauty of Apollo, compared with the deformity of a
satyr; that satyr, perhaps, being Pan, the brother of Apollo. Our
great poet is here guilty of a false quantity, by calling
Hypĕrīon, Hypērĭon, a mistake not unusual among our English
poets.]
[Footnote I.51: _Might not beteem_] _i.e._, might not allow,
permit.]
[Footnote I.52: _I'll change that name with you._] _i.e._, do not
call yourself my _servant_, you are my _friend_; so I shall call
you, and so I would have you call me.]
[Footnote I.53: _In faith._] Faithfully, in pure and simple
verity.]
[Footnote I.54: _But what make you_] What is your object? What
are you doing?]
[Footnote I.55: _What, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?_] In
Shakespeare's time there was a university at Wittenberg; but as
it was not founded till 1502, it consequently did not exist in
the time to which this play refers.]
[Footnote I.56: _My dearest foe_] _i.e._, my direst or most
important foe. This epithet was commonly used to denote the
strongest and liveliest interest in any thing or person, for or
against.]
[Footnote I.57: _Goodly king._] _i.e._, a good king.]
[Footnote I.58:
_Season your admiration for a while
with an attent ear_;]
_i.e._, suppress your astonishment for a short time, that you may
be the better able to give your attention to what we will
relate.]
[Footnote I.59: _In the dead waste and middle of the night_,]
_i.e._, in the dark and desolate vast, or vacant space and middle
of the night. It was supposed that spirits had permission to
range the earth by night alone.]
[Footnote I.60: _With the act of fear_,] _i.e._, by the influence
or power of fear.]
[Footnote I.61: _Address_] _i.e._, make ready.]
[Footnote I.62: _Writ down_] Prescribed by our own duty.]
[Footnote I.63: _He wore his beaver up._] That part of the helmet
which may be lifted up, to take breath the more freely.]
[Footnote I.64: _Tenable_] _i.e._, strictly maintained.]
[Footnote I.65: _Benefit_,] Favourable means.]
[Footnote I.66: _Trifling of his favour_,] Gay and thoughtless
intimation.]
[Footnote I.67: _Pérfume and suppliance of a minute._] _i.e._, an
amusement to fill up a vacant moment, and render it agreeable.]
[Footnote I.68: _Keep within the rear of your affection_,] Front
not the peril; withdraw or check every warm emotion: advance not
so far as your affection would lead you.]
[Footnote I.69: _The chariest maid_] Chary is cautious.]
[Footnote I.70: _Puff'd and reckless libertine._] Bloated and
swollen, the effect of excess; and heedless and indifferent to
consequences.]
[Footnote I.71: _Recks not his own read._] _i.e._, heeds not his
own lessons or counsel.]
[Footnote I.72: _Shoulder of your sail_,] A common sea phrase.]
[Footnote I.73: _Look thou charácter._] _i.e._, a word often used
by Shakespeare to signify to _write, strongly infix_; the accent
is on the second syllable.]
[Footnote I.74: _Unproportion'd thought_] Irregular, disorderly
thought.]
[Footnote I.75: _Each man's censure_,] Sentiment, opinion.]
[Footnote I.76: _Chief in that._] _i.e._, chiefly in that.]
[Footnote I.77: _Husbandry_] _i.e._, thrift, economical
prudence.]
[Footnote I.78: _Season this in thee!_] _i.e._, infix it in such
a manner as that it may never wear out.]
[Footnote I.79: _Yourself shall keep the key of it._] Thence it
shall not be dismissed, till you think it needless to retain it.]
[Footnote I.80: _Given private time to you_;] Spent his time in
private visits to you.]
[Footnote I.81: _As so 'tis put on me_,] Suggested to, impressed
on me.]
[Footnote I.82: _Is between_] _i.e._, what has passed--what
intercourse had.]
[Footnote I.83: _Green girl, Unsifted_] _i.e._, inexperienced
girl. Unsifted means one who has not nicely _canvassed_ and
examined the peril of her situation.]
[Footnote I.84: _Woodcocks._] Witless things.]
[Footnote I.85: _Slander any leisure moment_,] _i.e._, I would
not have you so disgrace your most idle moments, as not to find
better employment for them than lord Hamlet's conversation.]
[Footnote I.86: _An eager air._] _Eager_ here means _sharp_, from
_aigre_, French.]
[Footnote I.87: _Doth wake to-night_,] _i.e._, holds a late
revel.]
[Footnote I.88: _Takes his rouse_,] _Rouse_ means drinking bout,
carousal.]
[Footnote I.89: _Questionable shape_,] To _question_, in our
author's time, signified to _converse_. Questionable, therefore,
means _capable of being conversed with._]
[Footnote I.90: _Hearsed in death_,] Deposited with the
accustomed funeral rites.]
[Footnote I.91: _Cerements_;] Those precautions usually adopted
in preparing dead bodies for sepulture.]
[Footnote I.92: _Fools of nature_] _i.e._, making sport for
nature.]
[Footnote I.93: _Disposition_] Frame of mind and body.]
[Footnote I.94: _Removèd ground:_] _Removed_ for _remote_.]
[Footnote I.95: _At a pin's fee_;] _i.e._, the value of a pin.]
[Footnote I.96: _What if it tempt you toward the flood, &c._]
Malignant spirits were supposed to entice their victims into
places of gloom and peril, and exciting in them the deepest
terror.]
[Footnote I.97: _Beetles o'er his base into the sea_,] _i.e._,
projects darkly over the sea.]
[Footnote I.98: _Némean lion's nerve._] Shakespeare, and nearly
all the poets of his time, disregarded the quantity of Latin
names. The poet has here placed the accent on the first syllable,
instead of the second.]
[Footnote I.99: _That lets me:_] To let, in the sense in which it
is here used, means to hinder--to obstruct--to oppose. The word
is derived from the Saxon.]
[Footnote I.100: _To fast in fires_,] Chaucer has a similar
passage with regard to eternal punishment--_"And moreover the
misery of Hell shall be in default of meat and drink."_]
[Footnote I.101: _Harrow up thy soul_;] Agitate and convulse.]
[Footnote I.102: _Hair to stand on end_,] A common image of that
day.
"_Standing_ as frighted with _erected haire_."]
[Footnote I.103: _The fretful porcupine:_] This animal being
considered irascible and timid.]
[Footnote I.104: _Eternal blazon_] _i.e._, publication or
divulgation of things eternal.]
[Footnote I.105: _Rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf_,] _i.e._,
in indolence and sluggishness, by its torpid habits contributes
to that morbid state of its juices which may figuratively be
denominated rottenness.]
[Footnote I.106: _Orchard_,] Garden.]
[Footnote I.107: _Forged process_] _i.e._, false report of
proceedings.]
[Footnote I.108: _Decline upon a wretch._] Stoop with degradation
to.]
[Footnote I.109: _Secure_] Unguarded.]
[Footnote I.110: _Hebenon_] Hebenon is described by Nares in his
Glossary, as the juice of ebony, supposed to be a deadly poison.]
[Footnote I.111: _Despatch'd:_] Despoiled--bereft.]
[Footnote I.112: _Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd_;] To
_housel_ is to minister the sacrament to one lying on his death
bed. _Disappointed_ is the same as unappointed, which here means
unprepared. _Unanel'd_ is without extreme unction.]
[Footnote I.113: _Luxury_] Lasciviousness.]
[Footnote I.114: _Pale his uneffectual fire:_] _i.e._, not seen
by the light of day; or it may mean, shining without heat.]
[Footnote I.115: _In this distracted globe._] _i.e._, his head
distracted with thought.]
[Footnote I.116: _Pressures past_,] Impressions heretofore made.]
[Footnote I.117: _Come, bird, come._] This is the call which
falconers used to their hawk in the air when they would have him
come down to them.]
[Footnote I.118:
_There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark--
But he's an arrant knave._]
Hamlet probably begins these words in the ardour of confidence
and sincerity; but suddenly alarmed at the magnitude of the
disclosure he was going to make, and considering that, not his
friend Horatio only, but another person was present, he breaks
off suddenly:--"There's ne'er a villain in all Denmark that can
match (perhaps he would have said) my uncle in villainy; but
recollecting the danger of such a declaration, he pauses for a
moment, and then abruptly concludes:--"but he's an arrant
knave."]
[Footnote I.119: _Whirling words_,] Random words thrown out with
no specific aim.]
[Footnote I.120: _By Saint Patrick_,] At this time all the whole
northern world had their learning from Ireland; to which place it
had retired, and there flourished under the auspices of this
Saint.]
[Footnote I.121: _O'er-master it_] Get the better of it.]
[Footnote I.122: _Give it welcome._] Receive it courteously, as
you would a stranger when introduced.]
[Footnote I.123: _Antick disposition_] _i.e._, strange, foreign
to my nature, a disposition which Hamlet assumes as a protection
against the danger which he apprehends from his uncle, and as a
cloak for the concealment of his own meditated designs.]
[Footnote I.124: _Arms encumber'd thus_,] _i.e._, folded.]
[Footnote I.125: _Friending to you--shall not lack_] Disposition
to serve you shall not be wanting.]
ACT II.
SCENE I.--A ROOM IN POLONIUS'S HOUSE.
_Enter_ POLONIUS[1] (L.H.), _meeting Ophelia._ (R.H.)
_Pol._ How now, Ophelia! What's the matter?
_Oph._ O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!
_Pol._ With what, in the name of Heaven?
_Oph._ My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,
Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd;
Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other,
And with a look so piteous in purport,
He comes before me.
_Pol._ Mad for thy love?
_Oph._ My lord, I do not know;
But, truly, I do fear it.
_Pol._ What said he?
_Oph._ He took me by the wrist, and held me hard;
Then goes he to the length of all his arm;
And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
He falls to such perusal of my face
As he would draw it. Long staid he so;
At last,--a little shaking of mine arm,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound,
As it did seem to shatter all his bulk,[2]
And end his being: That done, he lets me go:
And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;
For out o'doors he went without their helps,
And, to the last, bended their light on me.
_Pol._ Come, go with me; I will go seek the king.
This is the very ecstacy of love;[3]
What, have you given him any hard words of late?
_Oph._ No, my good lord; but, as you did command,
I did repel his letters, and denied
His access to me.
_Pol._ That hath made him mad.
Come, go we to the king:
This must be known; which, being kept close, might move
More grief to hide than hate to utter love.[4]
Come.
[_Exeunt_ L.H.]
SCENE II.--A ROOM IN THE CASTLE.
_Enter_ KING, QUEEN, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, _and_
Attendants (R.H.)
_King._ (C.) Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!
Moreover that we much did long to see you,
The need we have to use you did provoke
Our hasty sending. Something have you heard
Of Hamlet's transformation. What it should be,
More than his father's death, that thus hath put him
So much from the understanding of himself,[5]
I cannot dream of: I entreat you both,
That you vouchsafe your rest[6] here in our court
Some little time: so by your companies
To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather,
Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus,
That, open'd, lies within our remedy.
_Queen._ (R.C.) Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you;
And sure I am two men there are not living
To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
So to expend your time with us a while,
Your visitation shall receive such thanks
As fits a king's remembrance.
_Ros._ (R.) Both your majesties
Might, by the sovereign power you have of us,[7]
Put your dread pleasures more into command
Than to entreaty.
_Guil._ (R.) But we both obey,
And here give up ourselves, in the full bent,[8]
To lay our service freely at your feet.
_King._ Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
_Queen._ I do beseech you instantly to visit
My too much changèd son. Go, some of you,
And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, _and_
Attendants, R.H.]
_Enter_ POLONIUS (L.H.)
_Pol._ Now do I think (or else this brain of mine
Hunts not the trail of policy[9] so sure
As it hath us'd to do), that I have found
The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.
_King._ (C.) O, speak of that; that do I long to hear.
_Pol._ (L.C.) My liege, and madam, to expostulate[10]
What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time;
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,--
I will be brief:--Your noble son is mad:
Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,
What is't, but to be nothing else but mad?
But let that go.
_Queen._ (R.C.) More matter, with less art.
_Pol._ Madam, I swear I use no art at all.
That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity;
And pity 'tis, 'tis true: a foolish figure;
But farewell it, for I will use no art.
Mad let us grant him, then: and now remains
That we find out the cause of this effect,
Or, rather say, the cause of this defect,
For this effect defective comes by cause:
Thus it remains, and the remainder thus,
Perpend.[11]
I have a daughter, have, while she is mine,
Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,
Hath given me this: Now gather, and surmise.
[Reads] _To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified
Ophelia,--_[12]
That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase, _beautified_ is a vile phrase:
but you shall hear. Thus:
_In her excellent white bosom,[13] these_, &c.[14]
_Queen._ Came this from Hamlet to her?
_Pol._ Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.--
[_Reads._]
_Doubt thou the stars are fire;_
_Doubt thou the sun doth move;_
_Doubt truth to be a liar;_
_But never doubt, I love._
_O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers;[15] I have not art to
reckon my groans: but that I love thee best, O most best,[16]
believe it. Adieu._
_Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him_,[17]
Hamlet.
This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me:
And more above,[18] hath his solicitings,[19]
As they fell out by time, by means, and place,
All given to my ear.
_King._ But how hath she
Receiv'd his love?
_Pol._ What do you think of me?
_King._ As of a man faithful and honourable.
_Pol._ I would fain prove so. But what might you think,
When I had seen this hot love on the wing
(As I perceived it, I must tell you that,
Before my daughter told me), what might you,
Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,
If I had play'd the desk or table book;[20]
Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb;[21]
Or look'd upon this love with idle sight;[22]
What might you think? No, I went round to work,[23]
And my young mistress thus did I bespeak:
_Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy sphere;
This must not be:_ and then I precepts gave her,
That she should lock herself from his resort,
Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
Which done, she took the fruits of my advice;[24]
And he, repuls'd (a short tale to make),
Fell into sadness; thence into a weakness;
Thence to a lightness; and, by this declension,
Into the madness wherein now he raves,
And all we mourn for.
_King._ Do you think 'tis this?
_Queen._ It may be, very likely.
_Pol._ Hath there been such a time (I'd fain know that,)
That I have positively said, _'tis so_,
When it proved otherwise?
_King._ Not that I know.
_Pol._ Take this from this, if it be otherwise:
[_Pointing to his head and shoulder._]
If circumstances lead me, I will find
Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed
Within the centre.
_King._ How may we try it further?
_Pol._ You know, sometimes he walks for hours together
Here in the lobby.
_Queen._ So he does, indeed.
_Pol._ At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him:
Mark the encounter: if he love her not,
And be not from his reason fallen thereon,
Let me be no assistant for a state,
But keep a farm, and carters.
_King._ We will try it.
_Queen._ But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.
_Pol._ Away, I do beseech you both, away:
I'll board him presently.[25]
[_Exeunt_ KING _and_ QUEEN, R.H.]
_Enter_ HAMLET, _reading_ (L.C.)
_Pol._ How does my good lord Hamlet?
_Ham._ (C.) Excellent well.
_Pol._ (R.) Do you know me, my lord?
_Ham._ Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.[26]
_Pol._ Not I, my lord.
_Ham._ Then I would you were so honest a man.
_Pol._ Honest, my lord!
_Ham._ Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man
picked out of ten thousand.
_Pol._ That's very true, my lord.
_Ham._ For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god,
kissing carrion,----Have you a daughter?[27]
_Pol._ I have, my lord.
_Ham._ Let her not walk i'the sun: conception is a blessing; but as
your daughter may conceive,--friend, look to't, look to't, look to't.
[_Goes up stage._]
_Pol._ (_Aside._) Still harping on my daughter:--yet he knew me not
at first; he said I was a fishmonger.
[_Crosses to_ L.]
I'll speak to him again.--What do you read, my lord?
_Ham._ (C.) Words, words, words.
_Pol._ (L.) What is the matter, my lord?
_Ham._ Between who?
_Pol._ I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.
_Ham._ Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue[28] says here that old
men have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes
purging thick amber and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful
lack of wit, together with most weak hams: All of which, sir, though
I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to
have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, shall be as old as I am,
if, like a crab, you could go backward.
[_Crosses_, L.]
_Pol._ (_Aside._) Though this be madness, yet there's method in it.
Will you walk out of the air, my lord?
_Ham._ Into my grave?
[_Crosses_ R.]
_Pol._ (L.) Indeed, that is out o' the air.--How pregnant sometimes
his replies[29] are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which
reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will
leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and
my daughter.--My honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of
you.
_Ham._ (C.) You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more
willingly part withall, except my life, except my life, except my
life.
_Pol._ Fare you well, my lord.
[_Exit_ POLONIUS, L.H.]
_Ham._ These tedious old fools!
_Pol._ (_Without._) You go to seek the lord Hamlet; there he is.
_Ros._ Heaven save you, sir!
_Enter_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN (L.H.)
_Guil._ My honor'd lord!--
_Ros._ My most dear lord!--
_Ham._ My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern?
[_Crosses to_ ROSENCRANTZ.]
Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both? What news?
_Ros._ (L.) None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.
_Ham._ (C.) Then is dooms-day near: but your news is not true. In the
beaten way of friendship,[30] what make you at Elsinore?
_Ros._ To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.
_Ham._ Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you.
Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free
visitation? Come, come, deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak.
_Guil._ (R.) What should we say, my lord?
_Ham._ Any thing--but to the purpose. You were sent for; and there is
a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not
craft enough to colour: I know the good king and queen have sent for
you.
_Ros._ To what end, my lord?
_Ham._ That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by the rights
of our fellowship, [_taking their hands_,] by the consonancy of our
youth,[31] by the obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what
more dear a better proposer[32] could charge you withal, be even[33]
and direct with me, whether you were sent for, or no?
_Ros._ What say you?
[_To_ GUILDENSTERN.]
_Ham._ Nay, then, I have an eye of you.[34]
[_Crosses_ R.]
[_Aside._]
--if you love me, hold not off.
_Guil._ My lord, we were sent for.
_Ham._ (_Returning_ C.) I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation
prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult
no feather.[35] I have of late (but wherefore I know not) lost all my
mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and, indeed, it goes so
heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems
to me a steril promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look
you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted
with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul
and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man!
How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving
how express[36] and admirable! in action how like an angel! in
apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon[37]
of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man
delights not me,--nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem
to say so.
_Ros._ My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
_Ham._ Why did you laugh, then, when I said, _Man delights not me?_
_Ros._ To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what lenten
entertainment[38] the players shall receive from you: we coted them
on the way;[39] and hither are they coming, to offer you service.
_Ham._ He that plays the king shall be welcome, his majesty shall
have tribute of me; the adventurous knight shall use his foil and
target; the lover shall not sigh gratis; the humorous man shall end
his part in peace;[40] and the lady shall say her mind freely, or the
blank verse shall halt for't.[41]--What players are they?
_Ros._ Even those you were wont to take such delight in, the
tragedians of the city.
_Ham._ How chances it, they travel?[42] their residence, both in
reputation and profit, was better both ways. Do they hold the same
estimation they did when I was in the city? Are they so followed?
_Ros._ No, indeed, they are not.
_Ham._ It is not very strange; for my uncle is king of Denmark,[43]
and those that would make mouths at him[44] while my father lived,
give twenty, forty, fifty, an hundred ducats a-piece for his picture
in little.[45] There is something in this more than natural, if
philosophy could find it out.
[_Flourish of trumpets without._]
_Guil._ There are the players.
_Ham._ Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands. You are
welcome: but my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
_Guil._ In what, my dear lord?
_Ham._ I am but mad north-north west: when the wind is southerly I
know a hawk from a hern-shaw.[46]
[_Crosses_ R.]
_Pol._ (_Without_, L.H.) Well be with you, gentlemen!
_Ham._ (_Crosses_ C.) Hark you, Guildenstern;--and Rosencrantz: that
great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling-clouts.
_Ros._ (R.) Haply he's the second time come to them; for they say an
old man is twice a child.
_Ham._ I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; mark
it.--You say right, sir: o'Monday morning; 'twas then, indeed.
_Enter_ POLONIUS (L.H.)
_Pol._ My lord, I have news to tell you.
_Ham._ My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in
Rome,----
_Pol._ The actors are come hither, my lord.
_Ham._ Buz, buz![47]
_Pol._ Upon my honour,----
_Ham._ Then came each actor on his ass.[48]
_Pol._ The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy,
history, pastoral, pastorical-comical, historical-pastoral, scene
indivisible, or poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor
Plautus too light.[49] For the law of writ and the liberty, these are
the only men.[50]
_Ham._ _O, Jephthah, judge of Israel_,--what a treasure hadst thou!
_Pol._ What a treasure had he, my lord?
_Ham._ Why,--_One fair daughter, and no more,
The which he loved passing well._
_Pol._ Still harping on my daughter.
[_Aside._]
_Ham._ Am I not i'the right, old Jephthah?
_Pol._ If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I
love passing well.
_Ham._ Nay, that follows not.
_Pol._ What follows, then, my lord?
_Ham._ Why, _As by lot, God wot_,[51] and then, you know, _It came to
pass, As most like it was_,--The first row of the pious Chanson[52]
will show you more; for look, my abridgment comes.[53]
_Enter Four or Five_ Players (L.H.)--POLONIUS _crosses behind_
HAMLET _to_ R.H.
You are welcome, masters; welcome, all: O, old friend! Why, thy face
is valanced[54] since I saw thee last; Com'st thou to beard me[55] in
Denmark?--What, my young lady and mistress. By-'r-lady, your ladyship
is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the altitude of a
chopine.[56] You are welcome. We'll e'en to't like French
falconers,[57] fly at anything we see: We'll have a speech straight:
Come, give us a taste of your quality;[58] come, a passionate speech.
_1st Play._ (L.H.) What speech, my lord?
_Ham._ I heard thee speak me a speech once,--but it was never acted;
or, if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleased not
the million; 'twas caviare to the general:[59] but it was an
excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much
modesty as cunning.[60] One speech in it I chiefly loved; 'twas
Æneas' tale to Dido; and thereabout of it especially, where he speaks
of Priam's slaughter: If it live in your memory, begin at this line;
let me see, let me see;--
_The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast_,--'tis not so: it
begins with Pyrrhus:
_The rugged Pyrrhus,--he, whose sable arms_,
_Black as his purpose, did the night resemble_,
_Old grandsire Priam seeks._
_Pol._ (R.) 'Fore Heaven, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and
good discretion.
_Ham._ (C.) So proceed you.
_1st Play._ (L.) _Anon he finds him
Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword,
Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
Repugnant to command: Unequal match'd,
Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide;
But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword[61]
The unnerved father falls.
But, as we often see, against some storm,
A silence in the heavens, the rack[62] stand still,
The bold wind speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death; anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region; So, after Pyrrhus' pause,
A roused vengeance sets him new a work;
And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
On Mars's armour, forg'd for proof eterne,
With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword
Now falls on Priam.--
Out, out, thou fickle Fortune!_
_Pol._ (R.) This is too long.
_Ham._ It shall to the barber's, with your beard.--Say on;--come to
Hecuba.
_1st Play._ _But who, ah woe, had seen the mobled queen_--
_Ham._ The mobled queen?[63]
_Pol._ That's good; mobled queen is good.
_1st Play._ _Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames;
A clout upon that head
Where late the diadem stood; and, for a robe,
A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd,
'Gainst fortune's state would treason have pronounced._
_Pol._ Look, whether he has not turned his colour, and has tears in's
eyes.--Prithee, no more.
_Ham._ (C.) 'Tis well; I'll have thee speak out the rest of this
soon.--Good, my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you
hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstract and brief
chronicles of the time: After your death you were better have a bad
epitaph than their ill report while you live.
_Pol._ (R.) My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
_Ham._ Much better: Use every man after his desert, and who shall
'scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity: The less
they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
[_Crosses to_ R.H.]
_Pol._ Come, sirs.
_Ham._ Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow.
[_Exit_ POLONIUS _with some of the_ Players, L.H.]
Old friend
[_Crosses to_ C.]
--My good friends
[_To_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN.]
I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore--can you play
the murder of Gonzago?
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN, R.H.]
_1st Play._ Ay, my lord.
_Ham._ We'll have it to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a
speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would insert
in't--could you not?
_1st Play._ Ay, my lord.
_Ham._ Very well.--Follow that lord; and look you mock him not.
[_Exit_ Player, L.H.]
Now I am alone.
O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous, that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit,
That, from her working, all his visage wann'd;[64]
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit?[65] And all for nothing!
For Hecuba?
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do,
Had he the motive and the cue[66] for passion
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears,
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech;
Make mad the guilty, and appal the free;
Confound the ignorant, and amaze, indeed,
The very faculties of eyes and ears.
Yet I,
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,
Like John a-dreams,[67] unpregnant of my cause,[68]
And can say nothing; no, not for a king,
Upon whose property and most dear life
A damn'd defeat was made.[69] Am I a coward?
Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?
Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i'the throat,
As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this,
Ha?
Why, I should take it: for it cannot be
But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall
To make oppression bitter;[70] or, ere this,
I should have fatted all the region kites
With this slave's offal: Bloody, bawdy villain!
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless[71] villain!
O, vengeance!
Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,
That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,
Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,
Must, like a scold, unpack my heart with words,
And fall a cursing, like a very drab,
A scullion!
Fye upon't! fye! About, my brains![72] I have heard
That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,
Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been struck so to the soul, that presently
They have proclaim'd their malefactions;
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players
Play something like the murder of my father
Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;
I'll tent him to the quick:[73] if he do blench,[74]
I know my course. The spirit that I have seen
May be the devil: and the devil hath power
To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and, perhaps
Out of my weakness and my melancholy
(As he is very potent with such spirits),
Abuses me to damn me: I'll have good grounds
More relative than this:[75] The play's the thing
Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
[_Exit_, R.H.]
END OF ACT SECOND.
Notes
Act II
[Footnote II.1: _Polonius_,] Doctor Johnson describes Polonius as
"a man bred in courts, exercised in business, stored with
observation, confident in his knowledge, proud of his eloquence,
and declining into dotage. A man positive and confident, because
he knows his mind was once strong, and knows not that it is
become weak." The idea of dotage encroaching upon wisdom will
solve all the phenomena of the character of Polonius.]
[Footnote II.2: _His bulk_,] Frame.]
[Footnote II.3: _Ecstacy of love_;] _i.e._, madness of love. In
this sense the word is now obsolete.]
[Footnote II.4:
_This must be known; which being kept close, might move
More grief to hide than hate to utter love._]
_i.e._, this must be made known to the king, for (being kept
secret) the hiding Hamlet's love might occasion more mischief to
us from him and the queen, than the uttering or revealing of it
will occasion hate and resentment from Hamlet.
It was the custom of Shakespeare's age, to conclude acts and
scenes with a couplet, a custom which was continued for nearly a
century afterwards.]
[Footnote II.5: _The understanding of himself_,] _i.e._, the just
estimate of himself.]
[Footnote II.6: _Vouchsafe your rest_] Please to reside.]
[Footnote II.7: _Of us_,] _i.e._, over us.]
[Footnote II.8: _In the full bent_,] To the full stretch and
range--a term derived from archery.]
[Footnote II.9: _The trail of policy_] The _trail_ is the
_course_ of an animal pursued by the scent.]
[Footnote II.10: _Expostulate_] To _expostulate_ is to discuss,
to put the pros and cons, to answer demands upon the question.
_Expose_ is an old term of similar import.]
[Footnote II.11: _Perpend._] _i.e._, reflect, consider
attentively.]
[Footnote II.12: _Most beautified Ophelia_,] Heywood, in his
History of Edward VI., says "Katharine Parre, Queen Dowager to
King Henry VIII., was a woman _beautified_ with many excellent
virtues." The same expression is frequently used by other old
authors.]
[Footnote II.13: _In her excellent white bosom_,] The ladies, in
Shakespeare's time, wore pockets in the front of their stays.]
[Footnote II.14: _These, &c._] In our poet's time, the word
_these_ was usually added at the end of the superscription of
letters.]
[Footnote II.15: _I am ill at these numbers_;] No talent for
these rhymes.]
[Footnote II.16: _O most best_,] An ancient mode of expression.]
[Footnote II.17: _Whilst this machine is to him_,] Belongs to,
obey his impulse; so long as he is "a sensible warm motion," the
similar expression to "While my wits are my own."]
[Footnote II.18: _And more above_,] _i.e._, moreover, besides.]
[Footnote II.19: _His solicitings_,] _i.e._, his love-making, his
tender expressions.]
[Footnote II.20: _If I had played the desk, or table book_;] This
line may either mean _if I had conveyed intelligence between
them_, or, _known of their love, if I had locked up his secret in
my own breast, as closely as it were confined in a desk or table
book._]
[Footnote II.21: _Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb_;]
_i.e._, connived at it.]
[Footnote II.22: _With idle sight_;] _i.e._, with indifference.]
[Footnote II.23: _Round to work_,] _i.e._, roundly, without
reserve.]
[Footnote II.24: _Which done, she took the fruits of my advice_;]
She took the _fruits_ of advice when she obeyed advice, the
advice was then made _fruitful._--JOHNSON.]
[Footnote II.25: _I'll board him presently._] Accost, address
him.]
[Footnote II.26: _You are a fishmonger._] This was an expression
better understood in Shakespeare's time than at present, and no
doubt was relished by the audience of the Globe Theatre as
applicable to the Papists, who in Queen Elizabeth's time were
esteemed enemies to the Government. Hence the proverbial phrase
of _He's an honest man and eats no fish_; to signify he's a
friend to the Government and a Protestant.]
[Footnote II.27: _For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog,
being a god, kissing carrion,----Have you a daughter?_] _i.e._,
Hamlet having just remarked that honesty is very rare in the
world, adds, that since there is so little virtue, since
corruption abounds everywhere, and maggots are _bred_ by the sun,
which is a god, even in a dead dog, Polonius ought to take care
to prevent his daughter from walking in the sun, lest she should
prove _"a breeder of sinners;"_ for though _conception_
(understanding) in general be a blessing, yet as Ophelia might
chance to _conceive_ (to be pregnant), it might be a calamity.
Hamlet's abrupt question, _"Have you a daughter?"_ is evidently
intended to impress Polonius with the belief of the Prince's
madness.--MALONE.]
[Footnote II.28: _The satirical rogue_] Hamlet alludes to
Juvenal, who in his 10th Satire, describes the evils of long
life.]
[Footnote II.29: _How pregnant his replies_] Big with meaning.]
[Footnote II.30: _Beaten way of friendship_,] Plain track, open
and unceremonious course.]
[Footnote II.31: _Rights of our fellowship and constancy of our
youth_,] Habits of familiar intercourse and correspondent years.]
[Footnote II.32: _A better proposer_] An advocate of more address
in shaping his aims, who could make a stronger appeal.]
[Footnote II.33: _Even_] Without inclination any way.]
[Footnote II.34: _Nay, then, I have an eye of you._] _i.e._, I
have a glimpse of your meaning. Hamlet's penetration having shown
him that his two friends are set over him as spies.]
[Footnote II.35: _So shall my anticipation prevent your
discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult no
feather._] Be beforehand with your discovery, and the plume and
gloss of your secret pledge be in no feather shed or tarnished.]
[Footnote II.36: _Express_] According to pattern, justly and
perfectly modelled.]
[Footnote II.37: _Paragon_] Model of perfection.]
[Footnote II.38: _Lenten entertainment_] _i.e._, sparing, like
the entertainments given in Lent.]
[Footnote II.39: _We coted them on the way_;] To cote, is to pass
by, to pass the side of another. It appears to be a word of
French origin, and was a common sporting term in Shakespeare's
time.]
[Footnote II.40: _The humorous man shall end his part in peace_;]
The fretful or capricious man shall vent the whole of his spleen
undisturbed.]
[Footnote II.41: _The lady shall say her mind freely, or the
blank verse shall halt for't._] _i.e._, the lady shall mar the
measure of the verse, rather than not express herself freely and
fully.]
[Footnote II.42: _Travel?_] Become strollers.]
[Footnote II.43: _It is not very strange; for my uncle is king of
Denmark_;] This is a reflection on the mutability of fortune, and
the variableness of man's mind.]
[Footnote II.44: _Make mouths at him_] _i.e._, deride him by
antic gestures and mockery.]
[Footnote II.45: _In little._] In miniature.]
[Footnote II.46: _I know a hawk from a hern-shaw._] A hernshaw is
a heron or hern. _To know a hawk from a hernshaw_ is an ancient
proverb, sometimes corrupted into _handsaw_. Spencer quotes the
proverb, as meaning, _wise enough to know the hawk from its
game._]
[Footnote II.47: _Buz, buz!_] Sir William Blackstone states that
_buz_ used to be an interjection at Oxford when any one began a
story that was generally known before.]
[Footnote II.48: _Then came each actor on his ass._] This seems
to be a line of a ballad.]
[Footnote II.49: _Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too
light._] An English translation of the tragedies of Seneca was
published in 1581, and one comedy of Plautus, viz., the
Menœchme, in 1595.]
[Footnote II.50: _For the law of writ and the liberty, these are
the only men._] The probable meaning of this passage is,--_For
the observance of the rules of the Drama, while they take such
liberties, as are allowable, they are the only men_--_writ_ is an
old word for _writing_.]
[Footnote II.51: _As by lot, God wot_,] There was an old ballad
entitled the song of Jephthah, from which these lines are
probably quotations. The story of Jephthah was also one of the
favourite subjects of ancient tapestry.]
[Footnote II.52: _The first row of the pious Chanson_] This
expression does not appear to be very well understood. Steevens
tells us that the _pious chansons_ were a kind of _Christmas
carols_, containing some scriptural history thrown into loose
rhymes, and sung about the streets. The _first row_ appears to
mean the _first division_ of one of these.]
[Footnote II.53: _My abridgment comes._] Hamlet alludes to the
players, whose approach will shorten his talk.]
[Footnote II.54: _Thy face is valanced_] _i.e._, fringed with a
beard. The valance is the fringes or drapery hanging round the
tester of a bed.]
[Footnote II.55: _Com'st thou to beard me_] To _beard_ anciently
meant to set _at defiance_. Hamlet having just told the player
that his face is valanced, is playing upon the word _beard_.]
[Footnote II.56: _By the altitude of a chopine._] A chioppine is
a high shoe, or rather clog, worn by the Italians. Venice was
more famous for them than any other place. They are described as
having been made of wood covered with coloured leather, and
sometimes _even half a yard high_, their altitude being
proportioned to the rank of the lady, so that they could not walk
without being supported.]
[Footnote II.57: _Like French falconers_,] The French seem to
have been the first and noblest falconers in the western part of
Europe. The French king sent over his falconers to show that
sport to King James the First.--_See Weldon's Court of King
James._]
[Footnote II.58: _Quality_;] Qualifications, faculty.]
[Footnote II.59: _Caviare to the general_;] Caviare is the spawn
of fish pickled, salted, and dried. It is imported from Russia,
and was considered in the time of Shakespeare a new and
fashionable luxury, not obtained or relished by the vulgar, and
therefore used by him to signify anything above their
comprehension--general is here used for the people.]
[Footnote II.60: _As much modesty as cunning._] As much propriety
and decorum as skill.]
[Footnote II.61: _Falls with the whiff and wind of his fell
sword_] Our author employs the same image in almost the same
phrase:
"The Grecians _fall
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword._"
_Tr. & Cress. V. 3. Tr._]
[Footnote II.62: _The rack_] The clouds or congregated vapour.]
[Footnote II.63: _The mobled queen?_] Mobled is veiled, muffled,
disguised.]
[Footnote II.64: _All his visage wann'd_;] _i.e._, turned pale or
wan.]
[Footnote II.65: _His whole functions suiting with forms to his
conceit?_] _i.e._, his powers and faculties--the whole energies
of his soul and body giving material forms to his passion, such
as tone of voice, expression of face, requisite action, in
accordance with the ideas that floated in his conceit or
imagination.]
[Footnote II.66: _The cue_] The point--the direction.]
[Footnote II.67: _Like John a-dreams_,] Or dreaming John, a name
apparently coined to suit a dreaming, stupid person; he seems to
have been a well-known character.]
[Footnote II.68: _Unpregnant of my cause_,] _i.e._, not quickened
with a new desire of vengeance; not teeming with revenge.]
[Footnote II.69: _Defeat was made._] Overthrow.]
[Footnote II.70: _Lack gall to make oppression bitter_;] _i.e._,
lack gall to make me feel the bitterness of oppression.]
[Footnote II.71: _Kindless_] Unnatural.]
[Footnote II.72: _About, my brains!_] Wits to work.]
[Footnote II.73: _I'll tent him to the quick:_] _i.e._, probe
him--search his wounds.]
[Footnote II.74: _Blench_,] Shrink, start aside.]
[Footnote II.75: _More relative than this:_] Directly
applicable.]
ACT III.
SCENE I.--A ROOM IN THE CASTLE.
_Three chairs on_ L.H., _one on_ R.
_Enter_ KING _and_ QUEEN, _preceded by_ POLONIUS. OPHELIA,
ROSENCRANTZ, _and_ GIULDENSTERN, _following_ (R.H.)
_King._ (C.) And can you, by no drift of conference,
Get from him why he puts on this confusion?
_Ros._ (R.) He does confess he feels himself distracted;
But from what cause he will by no means speak.
_Guild._ (R.) Nor do we find him forward[1] to be sounded
But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,
When we would bring him on to some confession
Of his true state.
_Queen._ (R.C.) Did you assay him[2]
To any pastime?
_Ros._ Madam, it so fell out, that certain players
We o'er-raught on the way:[3] of these we told him;
And there did seem in him a kind of joy
To hear of it: They are about the court;
And, as I think, they have already order
This night to play before him.
_Pol._ 'Tis most true:
And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties
To hear and see the matter.
_King._ With all my heart; and it doth much content me
To hear him so inclin'd.
Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,
And drive his purpose on to these delights.
_Ros._ We shall, my lord.
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN, R.H.]
_King._ Sweet Gertrude, leave us too;
For we have closely sent[4] for Hamlet hither,
That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
Affront Ophelia:[5]
Her father and myself (lawful espials[6]),
Will so bestow ourselves, that, seeing, unseen,
We may of their encounter frankly judge;
And gather by him, as he is behaved,
If't be the affliction of his love or no
That thus he suffers for.
_Queen._ (R.) I shall obey you:
And for your part, Ophelia,
[OPHELIA _comes down_ L.H.]
I do wish
That your good beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues
Will bring him to his wonted way again,
To both your honours.
_Oph._ Madam, I wish it may.
[_Exit_ QUEEN, R.H.]
_Pol._ Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you,
We will bestow ourselves. Read on this book;
[_To_ OPHELIA.]
That show of such an exercise may colour
Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,--
'Tis too much prov'd,[7] that, with devotion's visage
And pious action, we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.
_King._ O, 'tis too true! how smart
A lash that speech doth give my conscience!
[_Aside._]
_Pol._ I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord.
[_Exeunt_ KING _and_ POLONIUS, R.H.2 E., _and_
OPHELIA, R.H.U.E.]
_Enter_ HAMLET (L.H.)
_Ham._ To be, or not to be, that is the question:[8]
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,[9]
And, by opposing end them?--To die,--to sleep,
No more;--and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die,--to sleep,--
To sleep! perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,[10]
Must give us pause:[11] There's the respect[12]
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,[13]
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,[14]
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make[15]
With a bare bodkin?[16] Who would fardels bear,[17]
To groan and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn[18]
No traveller returns,[19] puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus, conscience does make cowards of us all;[20]
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,[21]
With this regard, their currents turn away,
And lose the name of action.[22]--
[OPHELIA _returns._]
--Soft you now![23]
The fair Ophelia:--Nymph, in thy orisons[24]
Be all my sins remember'd.
_Oph._ (R.C.) Good my lord,
How does your honour for this many a day?
_Ham._ (L.C.) I humbly thank you; well.
_Oph._ My lord, I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longèd long to re-deliver;
I pray you, now receive them.
_Ham._ No, not I;
I never gave you aught.
_Oph._ My honour'd lord, you know right well you did;
And, with them, words of so sweet breath compos'd
As made the things more rich: their perfume lost,
Take these again; for to the noble mind
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
There, my lord.
_Ham._ Ha, ha! are you honest?
_Oph._ My lord?
_Ham._ Are you fair?
_Oph._ What means your lordship?
_Ham._ That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no
discourse to your beauty.[25]
_Oph._ Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?
_Ham._ Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform
honesty from what it is to a bawd, than the force of honesty can
translate beauty into his likeness:[26] this was some time a paradox,
but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.
_Oph._ Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
_Ham._ You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot so
inoculate our old stock, but we shall relish of it:[27] I loved you
not.
_Oph._ I was the more deceived.
_Ham._ Get thee to a nunnery: Why wouldst thou be a breeder of
sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me of
such things, that it were better my mother had not borne me: I am
very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my beck[28]
than I have thoughts to put them in,[29] imagination to give them
shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do,
crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, all;
believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your father?
_Oph._ At home, my lord.
_Ham._ Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool
nowhere but in's own house. Farewell.
_Oph._ O, help him, you sweet heavens!
_Ham._ If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry.
Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape
calumny. Get thee to a nunnery; farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs
marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you
make of them. To a nunnery, go; go; go.
_Oph._ Heavenly powers, restore him!
_Ham._ I have heard of your paintings[30] too, well enough; Heaven
hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another:[31] you
jig, you amble, and you lisp,[32] and nickname Heaven's creatures,
and make your wantonness your ignorance.[33] Go to, I'll no more
of't; it hath made me mad.
[HAMLET _crosses to_ R.H.]
I say, we will have no more marriages: those that are married
already, all but one,[34] shall live; the rest shall keep as they
are. To a nunnery, go.
[_Exit_ HAMLET, R.H.[35]]
_Oph._ (L.) O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
The expectancy and rose of the fair state,[36]
The glass of fashion[37] and the mould of form,[38]
The observ'd of all observers, quite, quite down!
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That suck'd the honey of his musick vows,[39]
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh:
O, woe is me,
To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
[_Exit_ OPHELIA, L.H.]
_Re-enter_ KING _and_ POLONIUS.
_King._ Love! his affections do not that way tend;
Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,
Was not like madness. There's something in his soul,
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;
He shall with speed to England,
For the demand of our neglected tribute:
Haply, the seas, and countries different,
With variable objects, shall expel
This something-settled matter in his heart;
Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus
From fashion of himself. What think you on't?
_Pol._ It shall do well: But yet I do believe
The origin and commencement of his grief
Sprung from neglected love. My lord, do as you please;
But, if you hold it fit, after the play,
Let his queen mother all alone entreat him
To show his grief: let her be round with him;[40]
And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear
Of all their conference. If she find him not,[41]
To England send him; or confine him where
Your wisdom best shall think.
_King._ It shall be so:
Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go.
[_Exeunt_, L.H.]
_Enter_ HAMLET _and a_ Player (R.H.)
_Ham._ (C.) Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you,
trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, as many of our players
do, I had as lief[42] the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw
the air too much with your hands thus;[43] but use all gently: for in
the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your
passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it
smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious
perrywig-pated fellow[44] tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to
split the ears of the groundlings,[45] who, for the most part, are
capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise: I would
have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant;[46] it
out-herods Herod:[47] Pray you, avoid it.
_1st Play._ (R.) I warrant your honour.
_Ham._ Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your
tutor; suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this
special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature: for
any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both
at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up
to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and
the very age and body of the time its form and pressure.[48] Now,
this overdone, or come tardy off,[49] though it make the unskilful
laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of which
one[50] must, in your allowance,[51] o'erweigh a whole theatre of
others. O, there be players that I have seen play, and heard others
praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely,[52] that, neither
having the accent of christians, nor the gait of christian, pagan,
nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of
nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they
imitated humanity so abominably.
[_Crosses to_ R.]
_1st Play._ (L.) I hope we have reformed that indifferently[53] with
us.
_Ham._ O, reform it altogether. And let those that play your clowns
speak no more than is set down for them:[54] for there be of them
that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren
spectators[55] to laugh too; though, in the mean time, some necessary
question[56] of the play be then to be considered: that's villainous,
and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go, make
you ready.
[_Exit_ Player, L.H.]
_Ham._ What, ho, Horatio!
_Enter_ HORATIO (R.H.)
_Hor._ Here, sweet lord, at your service.
_Ham._ Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man
As e'er my conversation cop'd withal.[57]
_Hor._ O, my dear lord.
_Ham._ Nay, do not think I flatter;
For what advancement may I hope from thee,
That no revenue hast, but thy good spirits,
To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd?
No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp;
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,[58]
Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?
Since my dear soul[59] was mistress of her choice,
And could of men distinguish, her election
Hath seal'd thee for herself: for thou hast been
As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing;
A man that fortune's buffets and rewards
Has ta'en with equal thanks: and bless'd are those
Whose blood and judgment[60] are so well co-mingled,
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger
To sound what stop she please. Give me that man
That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.--Something too much of this.--
There is a play to-night before the king;
One scene of it comes near the circumstance
Which I have told thee of my father's death:
I pr'ythee when thou seest that act a-foot,
Even with the very comment of thy soul[61]
Observe my uncle: if his occulted guilt[62]
Do not itself unkennel in one speech,
It is a damned ghost that we have seen;
And my imaginations are as foul
As Vulcan's stithy.[63] Give him heedful note:
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face;
And, after, we will both our judgments join
In censure of his seeming.[64]
[HORATIO _goes off_, U.E.L.H.]
_March. Enter_ KING _and_ QUEEN, _preceded by_ POLONIUS, OPHELIA,
HORATIO, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, Lords, Ladies, _and_ Attendants.
KING _and_ QUEEN _sit_ (L.H.); OPHELIA (R.H.)
_King._ (L.) How fares our cousin Hamlet?
_Ham._ (C.) Excellent, i'faith; of the cameleon's dish: I eat the
air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so.
_King._ I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words are not
mine.[65]
_Ham._ No, nor mine, now.[66] My lord,--you played once in the
university, you say?[67]
[_To_ POLONIUS, L.]
_Pol._ (L.C.) That did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor.
_Ham._ (C.) And what did you enact?
_Pol._ I did enact Julius Cæsar:[68] I was killed i'the Capitol;
Brutus killed me.
_Ham._ It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf
there.--Be the players ready?
_Ros._ Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience.[69]
_Queen._ Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.
[_Pointing to a chair by her side._]
_Ham._ No, good mother, here's metal more attractive.
_Pol._ O, ho! do you mark that?
[_Aside to the_ KING.]
_Ham._ Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
[_Lying down at_ OPHELIA'S _feet._][70]
_Oph._ (R.) You are merry, my lord.
_Ham._ O, your only jig-maker.[71] What should a man do but be merry?
for, look you, how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died
within these two hours.
_Oph._ Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord.
_Ham._ So long? Nay, then, let the devil wear black, for I'll have a
suit of sables.[72] O heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten
yet? Then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half
a year: But, by'r-lady, he must build churches, then.[73]
_Oph._ What means the play, my lord?
_Ham._ Miching mallecho;[74] it means mischief.
_Oph._ But what is the argument of the play?
_Enter a_ Player _as_ Prologue (L.H.) _on a raised stage._
_Ham._ We shall know by this fellow.
_Pro._ _For us, and for our tragedy,
Here stooping to your clemency,
We beg your hearing patiently._
[_Exit_, L.H.]
_Ham._ Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?[75]
_Oph._ 'Tis brief, my lord.
_Ham._ As woman's love.
_Enter a_ KING _and a_ QUEEN (L.H.) _on raised stage._
_P. King._ (R.) Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart[76] gone round
Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbèd ground,[77]
Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands,
Unite commutual in most sacred bands.
_P. Queen._ (L.) So many journeys may the sun and moon
Make us again count o'er ere love be done!
But, woe is me, you are so sick of late,
So far from cheer and from your former state,
That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,
Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must.
_P. King._ 'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too;
My operant powers their functions leave to do:[78]
And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
Honour'd, belov'd; and, haply one as kind
For husband shalt thou----
_P. Queen._ O, confound the rest!
Such love must needs be treason in my breast:
In second husband let me be accurst!
None wed the second but who kill'd the first.
_Ham._ That's wormwood.
[_Aside to_ HORATIO, R.]
_P. King._ I do believe you think what now you speak;
But what we do determine oft we break.[79]
So think you thou wilt no second husband wed;
But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.
_P. Queen._ Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light!
Sport and repose lock from me day and night!
Both here, and hence, pursue me lasting strife,
If, once a widow, ever I be wife!
_P. King._ 'Tis deeply sworn.
_Ham._ If she should break it now!--
[_To_ OPHELIA.]
_P. King._ Sweet, leave me here awhile;
My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile
The tedious day with sleep.
[_Reposes on a bank_, R., _and sleeps._]
_P. Queen._ Sleep rock thy brain;
And never come mischance between us twain!
[_Exit_, L.H.]
_Ham._ Madam, how like you this play?
_Queen._ The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
_Ham._ O, but she'll keep her word.
_King._ Have you heard the argument?[80] Is there no offence in't?
_Ham._ No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i'the
world.
_King._ What do you call the play?
_Ham._ The mouse-trap.[81] Marry, how? Tropically.[82] This play is
the image of a murder[83] done in Vienna: Gonzago is the Duke's name;
his wife, Baptista: you shall see anon;--'tis a knavish piece of
work: but what of that? your majesty, and we that have free souls, it
touches us not: Let the galled jade wince,[84] our withers[85] are
unwrung.
_Enter_ LUCIANUS (L.H.)
This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king.
_Oph._ You are as good as a chorus,[86] my lord.
_Ham._ I could interpret between you and your love, if I could see
the puppets dallying.[87] Begin, murderer; leave thy damnable faces,
and begin. Come:--
----The croaking raven
Doth bellow for revenge.[88]
_Luc._ Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing;
Confederate season, else no creature seeing;
Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds[89] collected,
With Hecat's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
Thy natural magick and dire property,
On wholesome life usurp[90] immediately.
[_Pours the poison into the Sleeper's Ears._]
_Ham._ He poisons him i' the garden for his estate. His name's
Gonzago: the story is extant, and written in very choice Italian: You
shall see anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife.
_King._ Give me some light: away!
_All._ Lights, lights, lights!
[_Exeunt all_, R. _and_ L., _but_ HAMLET _and_ HORATIO.]
_Ham._ Why, let the strucken deer go weep,[91]
The hart ungallèd play;
For some must watch, while some must sleep:
So runs the world away.--
O, good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pounds.
Didst perceive?
_Hor._ (R.) Very well, my lord.
_Ham._ (C.) Upon the talk of the poisoning.--
_Hor._ I did very well note him.
_Ham._ Ah, ah! come, some musick! come, the recorders!
[_Exit_ HORATIO, R.H.]
_Enter_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN (L.H.) HAMLET _seats
himself in the chair_ (R.)
_Guil._ (L.C.) Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.
_Ham._ Sir, a whole history.
_Guil._ The king, sir,----
_Ham._ Ay, sir, what of him?
_Guil._ Is, in his retirement, marvellous distempered.[92]
_Ham._ With drink, sir?
_Guil._ No, my lord, with choler.
_Ham._ Your wisdom should show itself more rich to signify this to
the doctor; for, for me to put him to his purgation would perhaps
plunge him into more choler.
_Guil._ Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and start
not so wildly from my affair.
_Ham._ I am tame, sir:--pronounce.
_Guil._ The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of spirit,
hath sent me to you.
_Ham._ You are welcome.
_Guil._ Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right breed.
If it shall please you to make me a wholesome answer, I will do your
mother's commandment: if not, your pardon and my return shall be the
end of my business.
_Ham._ Sir, I cannot.
_Guil._ What, my lord?
_Ham._ Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased! But, sir, such
answer as I can make, you shall command: or rather as you say, my
mother: therefore no more, but to the matter: My mother, you say,--
_Ros._ (_Crosses to_ C.) Then thus she says: Your behaviour hath
struck her into amazement and admiration.[93]
_Ham._ O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But is there
no sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration?--impart.
_Ros._ She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you go to
bed.
_Ham._ We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any
further trade with us?[94]
_Ros._ My lord, you once did love me.
_Ham._ And do still, by these pickers and stealers.[95]
[_Rises and comes forward_, C.]
_Ros._ (R.) Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you do,
surely, bar the door of your own liberty, if you deny your griefs to
your friend.[96]
_Ham._ Sir, I lack advancement.
_Ros._ How can that be, when you have the voice of the king himself
for your succession in Denmark?[97]
_Ham._ Ay, sir, but _While the grass grows_,--the proverb is
something musty.[98]
_Enter_ HORATIO _and_ Musicians (R.H.)
O, the recorders:[99]--let me see one.--So; withdraw with you:--
[_Exeunt_ HORATIO _and_ Musicians R.H. GUILDENSTERN,
_after speaking privately to_ ROSENCRANTZ, _crosses
behind_ HAMLET _to_ R.H.]
Why do you go about to recover the wind of me,[100] as if you would
drive me into a toil?[101]
_Guil._ (R.) O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too
unmannerly.[102]
_Ham._ (C.) I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this
pipe?
_Guil._ My lord, I cannot.
_Ham._ I pray you.
_Guil._ Believe me, I cannot.
_Ham._ I do beseech you.
_Ros._ (L.) I know no touch of it, my lord.
_Ham._ 'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with your fingers
and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most
eloquent music.[103] Look you, these are the stops.
_Guil._ But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony; I
have not the skill.
_Ham._ Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You
would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck
out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note
to the top of my compass: and there is much music, excellent voice,
in this little organ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sdeath, do you
think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what
instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon
me.[104]
[_Crosses to_ L.H.]
_Enter_ POLONIUS (R.H.)
_Pol._ (R.) My lord, the queen would speak with you, and presently.
_Ham._ (C.) Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a
camel?
_Pol._ By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed.
_Ham._ Methinks it is like a weasel.
_Pol._ It is backed like a weasel.
_Ham._ Or like a whale?
_Pol._ Very like a whale.
_Ham._ Then will I come to my mother by and by. They fool me to the
top of my bent.[105] I will come by and by.
_Pol._ I will say so.
_Ham._ By and by is easily said.
[_Exit_ POLONIUS, R.H.
Leave me, friends.
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN, R.H.]
'Tis now the very witching time of night,
When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to this world: Now could I drink hot blood,
And do such bitter business[106] as the day
Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother.
O, heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom:
Let me be cruel, not unnatural;
I will speak daggers to her, but use none.
[_Exit._]
SCENE II.--A ROOM IN THE SAME.
_Enter_ KING, ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN (R.H.)
_King._ I like him not; nor stands it safe with us[107]
To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;
I your commission will forthwith despatch,
And he to England shall along with you:
Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;
For we will fetters put upon this fear,[108]
Which now goes too free-booted.
_Ros._ }
} We will haste us.
_Guil._}
[_Cross behind the_ KING, _and exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_
GUILDENSTERN, L.H.]
_Enter_ POLONIUS (R.H.)
_Pol._ My lord, he's going to his mother's closet:
Behind the arras I'll convey myself,[109]
To hear the process;[110] I'll warrant, she'll tax him home:
And, as you said, and wisely was it said,
'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,
Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear
The speech of vantage.[111] Fare you well, my liege:
[POLONIUS _crosses to_ L.H.]
I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,
And tell you what I know.
_King._ Thanks, dear my lord.
[_Exeunt_ POLONIUS, L.H., _and_ KING, R.H.]
SCENE III.--THE QUEEN'S CHAMBER.
_Enter_ QUEEN _and_ POLONIUS (L.H.)
_Pol._ He will come straight. Look, you lay home to him:[112]
Tell him his pranks have been too broad[113] to bear with,
And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between
Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here.[114]
Pray you, be round with him.
_Queen._ I'll warrant you;
Fear me not:--withdraw, I hear him coming.
[POLONIUS _hides himself_, L.H.U.E.
_Enter_ HAMLET (R.)
_Ham._ (R.C.) Now, mother, what's the matter?
_Queen._ (L.C.) Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
_Ham._ Mother, you have my father much offended.
_Queen._ Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
_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,[115] not so:
You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;
And--would it were not so!--you are my mother.
_Queen._ Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.
_Ham._ Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge;
You go not till I set you up a glass
Where you may see the inmost part of you.
_Queen._ What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?
Help, help, ho!
_Pol._
(_Behind._)
What, ho! help!
_Ham._ How now! a rat?[116]
[_Draws._]
Dead, for a ducat, dead!
[HAMLET _rushes off behind the arras._]
_Pol._ (_Behind._) O, I am slain!
[_Falls and dies._]
_Queen._ O me, what hast thou done?
_Ham._
(_Returning._)
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.
[_Goes off behind the arras, and returns._]
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!
[_To the dead body of_ POLONIUS, _behind the arras_.]
I took thee for thy better.
Leave wringing of your hands: Peace; sit you down,
[_To the_ QUEEN.]
And let me wring your heart: for so I shall,
If it be made of penetrable stuff;
If damnèd custom have not brazed it so,[117]
That it be proof and bulwark against sense.[118]
_Queen._
(_Sits_ R.C.)
What have I done, that thou dar'st wag thy tongue
In noise so rude against me?
_Ham._
(_Seated_ L.C.)
Such an act,
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty;
Calls virtue, hypocrite; takes off the rose
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
And sets a blister there;[119] makes marriage vows
As false as dicer's oaths: O, such a deed
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul;[120] and sweet religion makes
A rhapsody of words.--
Ah, me, that act!
_Queen._ Ah me, what act?