The counterfeit presentment[121] of two brothers.
See, what a grace was seated on this brow;
Hypérion's curls;[122] the front of Jove himself;
An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;
A station like the herald Mercury[123]
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;
A combination, and a form, indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal,
To give the world assurance of a man;
This was your husband.--Look you now, what follows:
Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,
Blasting his wholesome brother.[124] Have you eyes?
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
And batten on this moor?[125] Ha! have you eyes?
You cannot call it love; for, at your age
The hey-day in the blood[126] is tame, it's humble,
And waits upon the judgment: And what judgment
Would step from this to this?
O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,
If thou canst mutine,[127] in a matron's bones,
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,
And melt in her own fire.
_Queen._ O, Hamlet, speak no more:
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;
And there I see such black and grainèd spots
As will not leave their tinct.[128]
_Ham._ Nay, but to live
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,----[129]
_Queen._ O, speak to me no more;
No more, sweet Hamlet!
_Ham._ A murderer and a villain:
A slave that is not twentieth part the tythe
Of your precedent lord;--a vice of kings;[130]
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule;
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,
And put it in his pocket![131]
_Queen._ No more!
_Ham._ A king
Of shreds and patches.[132]
[_Enter_ Ghost, R.]
Save me
[_Starts from his chair_],
and hover o'er me with your wings,
You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?
_Queen._ Alas, he's mad!
[_Rising._]
_Ham._ (L.) Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
That, laps'd in time and passion,[133] lets go by
The important acting of your dread command?
O, say!
_Ghost._ (R.) Do not forget: This visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:
O, step between her and her fighting soul.
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 vacancy,
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse?
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep.
O gentle son,
[_Crosses to_ HAMLET.]
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
Sprinkle cool patience.[134] 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.[135] Do not look upon me;
Lest with this piteous action, you convert
My stern effects:[136] then what I have to do
Will 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.[137]
_Ham._ Nor did you nothing hear?
_Queen._ No, nothing but ourselves.
_Ham._ Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!
[_Ghost crosses to_ L.]
My father in his habit as he lived![138]
Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!
[_Exit_ Ghost, L.H. HAMLET _sinks into chair_ C.
_The_ QUEEN _falls on her knees by his side._]
_Queen._ This is the very coinage of your brain:
This bodiless creation ecstasy
Is very cunning in.[139]
_Ham._ Ecstasy!
My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,
And makes as healthful music: It is not madness
That I have uttered: bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word; which madness
Would gambol from.[140] Mother, for love of grace,
_Rising._]
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul,
That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:
It will but skin and film[141] the ulcerous place,
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come.
_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 my uncle's bed;
[_Raising the_ QUEEN.]
Assume a virtue, if you have it not.
Once more, good night!
And when you are desirous to be bless'd,
I'll blessing beg of you.[142] For this same lord,
[_Pointing to_ POLONIUS.]
I do repent:
I will bestow him, and will answer well
The death I gave him. So, again, good night.
[_Exit_ QUEEN, R.H.]
I must be cruel, only to be kind:
Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.
[_Exit_ HAMLET _behind the arras_, L.H.U.E.
END OF ACT THIRD.
Notes
Act III
[Footnote III.1: _Forward_] Disposed, inclinable.]
[Footnote III.2: _Assay him to_] Try his disposition towards.]
[Footnote III.3: _O'er-raught on the way:_] Reached or overtook.]
[Footnote III.4 _Have closely sent_] _i.e._, privately sent.]
[Footnote III.5 _May here affront Ophelia:_] To affront is to
come face to face--to confront.]
[Footnote III.6 _Lawful espials_,] Spies justifiably inquisitive.
From the French, _espier_.]
[Footnote III.7 _Too much prov'd_,] Found by too frequent
experience.]
[Footnote III.8 _To be, or not to be, that is the question:_]
Hamlet is deliberating whether he should continue to live, or put
an end to his existence.]
[Footnote III.9: _Or to take arms against a sea of troubles_,] _A
sea of troubles_ among the Greeks grew into a proverbial usage;
so that the expression figuratively means, the troubles of human
life, which flow in upon us, and encompass us round like a sea.]
[Footnote III.10: _This mortal coil_,] Coil is here used in each
of its senses, that of turmoil or bustle, and that which entwines
or wraps round.]
[Footnote III.11: _Must give us pause:_] _i.e._, occasion for
reflection.]
[Footnote III.12: _There's the respect That makes calamity of so
long life_;] The _consideration_ that makes the evils of life so
long submitted to, lived under.]
[Footnote III.13: _The whips and scorns of time_,] Those
sufferings of body and mind, those stripes and mortifications to
which, in its _course_, the life of man is subjected.]
[Footnote III.14: _Contumely_,] Contemptuousness, rudeness.]
[Footnote III.15: _His quietus make_] Quietus means the official
discharge of an account: from the Latin. Particularly in the
Exchequer accounts, where it is still current. Chiefly used by
authors in metaphorical senses.]
[Footnote III.16: _A bare bodkin?_] Bodkin was an ancient term
for a small dagger. In the margin of Stowe's Chronicle it is said
that Cæsar was slain with _bodkins_.]
[Footnote III.17: _Who would fardels bear_,] Fardel is a burden.
Fardellus, low Latin.]
[Footnote III.18: _From whose bourn_] _i.e._, boundary.]
[Footnote III.19: _No traveller returns_,] The traveller whom
Hamlet had seen, though he appeared in the same habit which he
had worn in his life-time, was nothing but a shadow,
"invulnerable as the air," and, consequently, _incorporeal_. The
Ghost has given us no account of the region from whence he came,
being, as he himself informed us, "forbid to tell the secrets of
his prison-house."--MALONE.]
[Footnote III.20: _Thus conscience does make cowards of us all_;]
A state of doubt and uncertainty, a conscious feeling or
apprehension, a misgiving "How our audit stands."]
[Footnote III.21: _Of great pith and moment_,] _i.e._, of great
vigour and importance.]
[Footnote III.22:
_With this regard, their currents turn away_,
_And lose the name of action._]
From this sole consideration have their drifts diverted, and lose
the character and name of enterprise.]
[Footnote III.23: _Soft you now!_] A gentler pace! have done with
lofty march!]
[Footnote III.24: _Nymph, in thy orisons_] _i.e._, in thy
prayers. Orison is from _oraison_--French.]
[Footnote III.25: _If you be honest and fair, your honesty should
admit no discourse to your beauty._] _i.e._, if you really
possess these qualities, chastity and beauty, and mean to support
the character of both, your honesty should be so chary of your
beauty, as not to suffer a thing so fragile to entertain
discourse, or to be parleyed with.
The lady interprets the words otherwise, giving them the turn
best suited to her purpose.]
[Footnote III.26: _His likeness:_] Shakespeare and his
contemporaries frequently use the personal for the neutral
pronoun.]
[Footnote III.27: _Inoculate our old stock, but we shall relish
of it:_] So change the original constitution and properties, as
that no smack of them shall remain. "Inoculate our stock" are
terms in gardening.]
[Footnote III.28: _With more offences at my beck_] That is,
always ready to come about me--at my beck and call.]
[Footnote III.29: _Than I have thoughts to put them in, &c._] "To
put a thing into thought," Johnson says, is "to think on it."]
[Footnote III.30: _I have heard of your paintings_,] These
destructive aids of beauty seem, in the time of Shakespeare, to
have been general objects of satire.]
[Footnote III.31: _Heaven hath given you one face, and you make
yourselves another:_] _i.e._, Heaven hath given you one face, and
you disfigure his image by making yourself another.]
[Footnote III.32: _You jig, you amble, and you lisp_,] This is an
allusion to the manners of the age, which Shakespeare, in the
spirit of his contemporaries, means here to satirise.]
[Footnote III.33: _Make your wantonness your ignorance._] You
mistake by _wanton_ affectation, and pretend to mistake by
_ignorance_.]
[Footnote III.34: _All but one shall live_;] _One_ is the king.]
[Footnote III.35: _To a nunnery, go. Exit Hamlet._] There is no
doubt that Hamlet's attachment to Ophelia is ardent and sincere,
but he treats her with apparent severity because he is aware that
Ophelia has been purposely thrown in his way; that spies are
about them; and that it is necessary for the preservation of his
life, to assume a conduct which he thought would be attributed to
madness only.]
[Footnote III.36: _The expectancy and rose of the fair state_,]
The first hope and fairest flower. "The gracious mark o' the
land."]
[Footnote III.37: _Glass of fashion_] Speculum
consuetudinis.--CICERO.
[Footnote III.38: _The mould of form_,] The cast, in which is
shaped the only perfect form.
[Footnote III.39: _Musick vows_,] Musical, mellifluous.
[Footnote III.40: _Be round with him_;] _i.e._, plain with
him--without reserve.
[Footnote III.41: _If she find him not_,] Make him not out.
[Footnote III.42: _As lief_] As willingly.]
[Footnote III.43: _Thus_;] _i.e._, thrown out thus.]
[Footnote III.44: _Robustious perrywig-pated fellow_] This is a
ridicule on the quantity of false hair worn in Shakespeare's
time, for wigs were not in common use till the reign of Charles
the Second. _Robustious_ means making an extravagant show of
passion.]
[Footnote III.45: _The ears of the groundlings_,] The meaner
people appear to have occupied the pit of the theatre (which had
neither floor nor benches in Shakespeare's time), as they now sit
in the upper gallery.]
[Footnote III.46: _O'er-doing Termagant_;] The Crusaders, and
those who celebrated them, confounded Mahometans with Pagans, and
supposed Mahomet, or Mahound, to be one of their deities, and
Tervagant or Termagant, another. This imaginary personage was
introduced into our old plays and moralities, and represented as
of a most violent character, so that a ranting actor might always
appear to advantage in it. The word is now used for a scolding
woman.]
[Footnote III.47: _It out-herods Herod:_] In all the old
moralities and mysteries this personage was always represented as
a tyrant of a very violent temper, using the most exaggerated
language. Hence the expression.]
[Footnote III.48: _The very age and body of the time its form and
pressure._] _i.e._, to delineate exactly the manners of the age,
and the particular humours of the day--_pressure_ signifying
resemblance, as in a print.]
[Footnote III.49: _Come tardy off_,] Without spirit or animation;
heavily, sleepily done.]
[Footnote III.50: _The censure of which one_] _i.e._, the censure
of one of which.]
[Footnote III.51: _Your allowance_,] In your approbation.]
[Footnote III.52: _Not to speak it profanely_,] _i.e._,
_irreverently_, in allusion to Hamlet's supposition that God had
not made such men, but that they were only the handy work of
God's assistants.]
[Footnote III.53: _Indifferently_] In a reasonable degree.]
[Footnote III.54: _Speak no more them is set down for them:_]
Shakespeare alludes to a custom of his time, when the clown, or
low comedian, as he would now be called, addressing the audience
during the play, entered into a contest of raillery and sarcasm
with such spectators as chose to engage with him.]
[Footnote III.55: _Barren spectators_] _i.e._, dull,
unapprehensive spectators.]
[Footnote III.56: _Question_] Point, topic.]
[Footnote III.57: _Cop'd withal._] Encountered with.]
[Footnote III.58: _Pregnant hinges of the knee_,] _i.e._, bowed
or bent: ready to kneel where _thrift_, that is, thriving, or
emolument may follow sycophancy.]
[Footnote III.59: _Since my dear soul_] _Dear_ is out of which
arises the liveliest interest.]
[Footnote III.60: _Whose blood and judgment_] Dr. Johnson says
that according to the doctrine of the four humours, _desire_ and
_confidence_ were seated in the blood, and judgment in the
phlegm, and the due mixture of the humours made a perfect
character.]
[Footnote III.61: _The very comment of thy soul_] The most
intense direction of every faculty.]
[Footnote III.62: _Occulted guilt do not itself unkennel_]
Stifled, secret guilt, do not develope itself.]
[Footnote III.63: _As Vulcan's stithy._] A stithy is the smith's
shop, as stith is the anvil.]
[Footnote III.64: _In censure of his seeming._] In making our
estimate of the appearance he shall put on.]
[Footnote III.65: _I have nothing with this answer; these words
are not mine._] _i.e._, they grow not out of mine: have no
relation to anything said by me.]
[Footnote III.66: _No, nor mine, now._] They are now anybody's.
Dr. Johnson observes, "a man's words, says the proverb, are his
own no longer than while he keeps them unspoken."]
[Footnote III.67: _You played once in the university, you say?_]
The practice of acting Latin plays in the universities of Oxford
and Cambridge is very ancient, and continued to near the middle
of the last century.]
[Footnote III.68: _I did enact Julius Cæsar:_] A Latin play on
the subject of Cassar's death, was performed at Christ-church,
Oxford, in 1582.]
[Footnote III.69: _They stay upon your patience._] _Patience_ is
here used for _leisure_.]
[Footnote III.70: _Lying down at Ophelia's feet._] To lie at the
feet of a mistress during any dramatic representation, seems to
have been a common act of gallantry.]
[Footnote III.71: _Jig-maker_,] Writer of ludicrous interludes.
_A jig_ was not in Shakespeare's time only a dance, but a
ludicrous dialogue in metre; many historical ballads were also
called _jigs_.]
[Footnote III.72: _For I'll have a suit of sables._] Wherever his
scene might be, the customs of his country were ever in
Shakespeare's thoughts. A suit trimmed with sables was in our
author's own time the richest dress worn by men in England. By
the Statute of Apparel, 24 Henry VIII., c. 13, (_article
furres_), it is ordained, that none under the degree of an _Earl_
may use _sables_.]
[Footnote III.73: _He must build churches, then._] Such
benefactors to society were sure to be recorded by means of the
feast day on which the patron saints and founders of churches
were commemorated in every parish. This custom has long since
ceased.]
[Footnote III.74: _Miching mallecho_;] To _mich_ is a provincial
word, signifying _to lie hid_, or _to skulk_, or _act by
stealth_. It was probably once generally used. Mallecho is
supposed to be corrupted from the Spanish _Malechor_, which means
a poisoner.]
[Footnote III.75: _The posy of a ring?_] Such poetry as you may
find engraven on a ring.]
[Footnote III.76: _Phoebus' cart_] A chariot was anciently called
a cart.]
[Footnote III.77: _Tellus' orbèd ground_,] _i.e._, the globe of
the earth. Tellus is the personification of the earth, being
described as the first being that sprung from Chaos.]
[Footnote III.78: _My operant powers their functions leave to
do:_] _i.e._, my active energies cease to perform their offices.]
[Footnote III.79: _What we do determine, oft we break._] Unsettle
our most fixed resolves.]
[Footnote III.80: _The argument?_] The subject matter.]
[Footnote III.81: _The mouse-trap._]
He calls it the mouse-trap, because it is the thing,
In which he'll catch the conscience of the king.]
[Footnote III.82: _Tropically._] _i.e._, figuratively.]
[Footnote III.83: _The image of a murder_,] _i.e._, the lively
portraiture, the correct and faithful representation of a murder,
&c.]
[Footnote III.84: _Let the galled jade wince_,] A proverbial
saying.]
[Footnote III.85: _Our withers are unwrung._] Withers is the
joining of the shoulder bones at the bottom of the neck and mane
of a horse. _Unwrung_ is _not pinched_.]
[Footnote III.86: _You are as good as a chorus_,] The persons who
are supposed to behold what passes in the acts of a tragedy, and
sing their sentiments between the acts.
The use to which Shakespeare converted the chorus, may be seen in
King Henry V.]
[Footnote III.87: _I could interpret between you and your love,
if I could see the puppets dallying._] This refers to the
interpreter, who formerly sat on the stage at all _puppet shows_,
and explained to the audience. _The puppets dallying_ are here
made to signify to the agitations of Ophelia's bosom.]
[Footnote III.88:
_The croaking raven_
_Doth bellow for revenge._]
_i.e._, begin without more delay; for the raven, foreknowing the
deed, is already croaking, and, as it were, calling out for the
revenge which will ensue.]
[Footnote III.89: _Midnight weeds_] The force of the epithet
_midnight_, will be best displayed by a corresponding passage in
Macbeth:
"Root of hemlock, _digg'd i' the dark_."]
[Footnote III.90: _Usurp_] Encroach upon.]
[Footnote III.91: _Let the strucken deer go weep_,] Shakespeare,
in _As you like it_, in allusion to the wounded stag, speaks of
the _big round tears_ which _cours'd one another down his
innocent nose in piteous chase_. In the 13th song of Drayton's
Polyolbion, is a similar passage--"_The harte weepeth at his
dying; his tears are held to be precious in medicine._"]
[Footnote III.92: _Marvellous distempered._] _i.e._,
discomposed.]
[Footnote III.93: _Admiration._] _i.e._, wonder.]
[Footnote III.94: _Trade with us?_] _i.e._ Occasion of
intercourse.]
[Footnote III.95: _By these pickers and stealers._] _i.e._, by
these hands. The phrase is taken from the Church catechism,
where, in our duty to our neighbour, we are taught to keep our
hands from _picking and stealing_.]
[Footnote III.96: _You do freely bar the door of your own
liberty, if you deny your griefs to your friend._] By your own
act you close the way against your own ease, and the free
discharge of your griefs, if you open not the source of them to
your friends.]
[Footnote III.97: _You have the voice of the king himself for
your succession in Denmark?_] Though the crown was elective, yet
regard was paid to the recommendation of the preceding prince,
and preference given to royal blood, which, by degrees, produced
hereditary succession.]
[Footnote III.98: _"While the grass grows,"--the proverb is
something musty._] The proverb is, "_While the grass grows, the
steed starves._" Hamlet alludes to his own position, while
waiting for his succession to the throne of Denmark. A similar
adage is, "_A slip between the cup and the lip._"]
[Footnote III.99: _Recorder._] _i.e._ A kind of flute, or pipe.]
[Footnote III.100: _Why do you go about to recover the wind of
me_,] Equivalent to our more modern saying of _Get on the blind
side._]
[Footnote III.101: _Into a toil?_] _i.e._, net or snare.]
[Footnote III.102: _If my duty be too bold, my love is too
unmannerly._] If my sense of duty have led me too far, it is
affection and regard for you that makes the carriage of that duty
border on disrespect.]
[Footnote III.103: _Govern these ventages--and it will discourse
most eloquent music._] Justly order these vents, or air-holes,
and it will breathe or utter, &c.]
[Footnote III.104: _Though you can fret me, you cannot play upon
me._] A _fret_ is a stop or key of a musical instrument. Here is,
therefore, a play upon the words. Though you cannot fret, stop,
or vex, you cannot play or impose upon me.]
[Footnote III.105: _They fool me to the top of my bent._] To the
height; as far as they see me _incline_ to go: an allusion to the
utmost flexure of a bow.]
[Footnote III.106: _Bitter business_] _i.e._, shocking, horrid
business.]
[Footnote III.107: _Stands it safe with us_] Is it _consistent_
with our security.]
[Footnote III.108: _This fear_,] Bugbear.]
[Footnote III.109: _Behind the arras I'll convey myself_,] The
arras-hangings, in Shakespeare's time, were hung at such a
distance from the walls, that a person might easily stand behind
them unperceived.]
[Footnote III.110: _To hear the process_;] The course of the
conversation.]
[Footnote III.111: _The speech of vantage._] _i.e._, opportunity
or advantage of secret observations.]
[Footnote III.112: _Lay home to him:_] Pointedly and closely
charge him.]
[Footnote III.113: _Pranks too broad_] Open and bold.]
[Footnote III.114: _I'll 'sconce me even here._] 'Sconce and
ensconce are constantly used figuratively for _hide._ In "The
Merry Wives of Windsor," Falstaff says, "I will _ensconce_ me
behind the arras."]
[Footnote III.115: _By the rood_,] _i.e._, the cross or
crucifix.]
[Footnote III.116: _How now! a rat?_] This is an expression
borrowed from the History of Hamblet.]
[Footnote III.117: _Have not braz'd it so_,] _i.e._, soldered
with brass.]
[Footnote III.118: _Proof and bulwark against sense._] Against
all feeling.]
[Footnote III.119: _Takes off the rose From the fair forehead of
an innocent love, And sets a blister there_;] _i.e._, takes the
clear tint from the brow of unspotted, untainted innocence. "True
or honest as the skin between one's brows" was a proverbial
expression, and is frequently used by Shakespeare.]
[Footnote III.120: _As from the body of contraction plucks The
very soul_;] Annihilates the very principle of contracts.
Contraction for marriage contract.]
[Footnote III.121: _The counterfeit presentment_] _i.e._, picture
or mimic representation.]
[Footnote III.122: _Hypérion's curls_;] Hyperion is used by
Spenser with the same error in quantity.]
[Footnote III.123: _A station like the herald Mercury_] Station
is attitude--act of standing.]
[Footnote III.124:
_Like a mildew'd ear_,
_Blasting his wholesome brother._]
This alludes to Pharaoh's dream, in the 41st chapter of Genesis.]
[Footnote III.125: _Batten on this moor?_] Batten is to feed
rankly.]
[Footnote III.126: _Hey-day in the blood_] This expression is
occasionally used by old authors.]
[Footnote III.127: _Thou canst mutine_] _i.e._, rebel.]
[Footnote III.128: _As will not leave their tinct._] So dyed _in
grain_, that they will not relinquish or lose their tinct--are
not to be discharged. In a sense not very dissimilar he presently
says,
"Then what I have to do
Will _want true colour_."]
[Footnote III.129: _An enseamed bed._] _i.e._, greasy bed of
grossly fed indulgence.]
[Footnote III.130: _A vice of kings_;] _i.e._, a low mimick of
kings. The vice was the fool of the old moralities or dramas, who
was generally engaged in contests with the devil, by whom he was
finally carried away. Dr. Johnson says the modern Punch is
descended from the vice.]
[Footnote III.131:
_From a shelf the precious diadem stole_,
_And put it in his pocket!_]
In allusion to the usurper procuring the crown as a common
pilferer or thief, and not by open villainy that carried danger
with it.]
[Footnote III.132: _A king of shreds and patches._] This is said,
pursuing the idea of the _vice of kings_. The vice being dressed
as a fool, in a coat of party-coloured patches.]
[Footnote III.133: _Laps'd in time and passion_,] That having
suffered time to slip, and passion to cool, &c. It was supposed
that nothing was more offensive to apparitions than the neglect
to attach importance to their appearance, or to be inattentive to
their admonitions.]
[Footnote III.134: _Cool patience._] _i.e._, moderation.]
[Footnote III.135: _Make them capable._] Make them
intelligent--capable of conceiving.]
[Footnote III.136: _My stem effects:_] _i.e._, change the nature
of my purposes, or what I mean to effect.]
[Footnote III.137: _Nothing at all; yet all that is, I see._] It
is in perfect consistency with the belief that all spirits were
not only naturally invisible, but that they possessed the power
of making themselves visible to such persons only as they
pleased.]
[Footnote III.138: _My father, in his habit as he lived!_] In the
habit he was accustomed to wear when living.]
[Footnote III.139:
_This bodiless creation ecstasy_
_Is very cunning in._]
_i.e._, "Such shadows are the weak brain's forgeries." Ecstasy in
this place, as in many others, means a temporary alienation of
mind--a fit.]
[Footnote III.140: _Gambol from._] Start away from.]
[Footnote III.141: _Skin and film_,] Cover with a thin skin.]
[Footnote III.142:
_And when you are desirous to be bless'd_,
_I'll blessing beg of you_]
When you are desirous to receive a blessing from heaven (which
you cannot, seriously, till you reform), I will beg to receive a
blessing from you.]
ACT IV.
SCENE I.--A ROOM IN THE CASTLE.
_Enter_ KING _and_ QUEEN, _from_ (R.H.) _centre._
_King._ There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves:
You must translate:[1] 'tis fit we understand them.
How does Hamlet?
_Queen._ Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend
Which is the mightier: In his lawless fit,
Behind the arras hearing something stir,
Whips out his rapier, cries _A rat, a rat!_
And, in this brainish apprehension,[2] kills
The unseen good old man.
_King._ O heavy deed!
It had been so with us, had we been there:
Where is he gone?
_Queen._ To draw apart the body he hath kill'd.
_King._ The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch,
But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed
We must, with all our majesty and skill,
Both countenance and excuse.--Ho, Guildenstern!
_Enter_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN (L.H.)
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 body
Into the chapel.
[ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN _cross to_ R.]
I pray you, haste in this.
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN, R.H.]
Go, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends;
And let them know, both what we mean to do,
And what's untimely done.
[_Exit_ QUEEN, R.C.]
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 judgment, but their eyes;
And where 'tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd,
But never the offence.[3]
_Enter_ ROSENCRANTZ (R.)
How now! what hath befallen?
_Ros._ Where the dead body is bestowed, 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, GUILDENSTERN, _and_ Attendants (R.H.)
_King._ (C.) Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
_Ham._ (R.) At supper.
_King._ At supper? Where?
_Ham._ Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a
certain convocation of politick worms[4] are e'en at him.
_King._ Where's Polonius?
_Ham._ In Heaven; send thither to see: if your messenger
find him not there, seek him i'the other place
yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this
month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into
the lobby.
_King._ Go seek him there.
[_To_ GUILDENSTERN.]
_Ham._ He will stay till you come.
[_Exit_ GUILDENSTERN, R.H.]
_King._ Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,
Must send thee hence:
Therefore prepare thyself;
The bark is ready, and the wind at help,[5]
For 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 and wife is
one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England.
[_Exit_, R.H.]
_King._ Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard;
Away! for everything is seal'd and done.
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ Attendants, R.H.]
And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught,
Thou may'st not coldly set[6]
Our sovereign process;[7] which imports at full,
By letters conjuring to that effect,[8]
The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
For thou must cure me: 'Till I know 'tis done,
Howe'er my haps,[9] my joys will ne'er begin.
[_Exit_ KING, L.H.]
_Enter_ QUEEN _and_ HORATIO (R. _centre._)
_Queen._ ----I will not speak with her.
_Hor._ She is importunate; indeed, distract:
'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew
Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.
_Queen._ Let her come in.
[_Exit_ HORATIO, R.C.]
_Re-enter_ HORATIO, _with_ OPHELIA (R. _centre._)
_Oph._ Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?
_Queen._ How now, Ophelia!
_Oph._ (C.)
[_Singing._]
_How should I your true love know_
_From another one?_
_By his cockle hat and staff_,
_And his sandal shoon._[10]
_Queen._ (L.C.) 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 turf_,
_At his heels a stone._
_Enter the_ KING (L.H.)
_Queen._ Nay, but, Ophelia,----
_Oph._ Pray you, mark.
[_Sings._]
_White his shroud as the mountain-snow_,
_Larded all with sweet flowers_;[11]
_Which bewept to the grave did go_
_With true-love showers._
_King._ How do you, pretty lady?
_Oph._ Well, Heaven 'ield you![12]
(_Crosses to the_ KING.)
They say the owl was a baker's daughter.[13] We know
what we are, but know not what we may be.
_King._ Conceit upon her father.[14]
_Oph._ Pray, you, let us have no words of this; but when
they ask you what it means, say you this:
_To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day_,
_All in the morning betime_,
_And I, a maid at your window_,
_To be your Valentine:_
_King._ Pretty Ophelia!
_Oph._ Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end on't:
_Then up he rose, and don'd his clothes_,
_And dupp'd[15] the chamber door_;
_Let in the maid, that out a maid_
_Never departed more._
[_Crosses to_ R.H.]
_King._ (L.) How long hath she been thus?
_Oph._ (R.) I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot
choose 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_, R.C.]
_King._ Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you.
[_Exit_ HORATIO, _through centre_ R.]
O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs
All from her father's death.
O, Gertrude, Gertrude,
When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions!
_Enter_ MARCELLUS (R. _centre._)
_King._ What is the matter?
_Mar._ Save yourself, my lord:
The young Laertes, in a riotous head,[16]
O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him lord;
They cry, _Choose we: Laertes shall be king!_
Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
_Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!_
[_Noise within_, R.C.]
_Enter_ LAERTES, _armed_; Danes _following_ (R. _centre._)
_Laer._ Where is this king?--Sirs, stand you all without.
_Dan._ No, let's come in.
_Laer._ I pray you, give me leave.
_Dan._ We will, we will.
[_They retire without_, R.H.]
_Laer._ O, thou vile king,
Give me my father.
_Queen_
(_Interposing._)
Calmly, good Laertes.
_Laer._ (R.) That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard;
Cries cuckold to my father; brands the harlot
Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow
Of my true mother.[17]
_King._ (L.) 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,[18]
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts little of his will.
Let him go, Gertrude.
[QUEEN _obeys._]
_Laer._ Where is my father?
_King._ Dead.
_Queen._ But not by him.
_King._ Let him demand his fill.
_Laer._ How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:
To hell, allegiance! To this point I stand,
That both the worlds I give to negligence,[19]
Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd
Most throughly for my father.
_King._ Who shall stay you!
_Laer._ My will, not all the world's:[20]
And, for my means, I'll husband them so well,
They shall go far with little.
_King._ Good Laertes,
That I am guiltless of your father's death,
And am most sensible in grief[21] for it,
It shall as level to your judgment 'pear
As day does to your eye.
_Hor._
(_Without._)
Oh, poor Ophelia!
_King._ Let her come in.
_Enter_ OPHELIA (R.C.), _fantastically dressed with Straws
and Flowers._
_Laer._
(_Goes up_ L.C.)
O rose of May!
Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!
O heavens! is't possible, a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?
_Oph._ (R.C.)
_They bore him barefac'd on the bier_;
_And on his grave rain many a tear,--_
Fare you well, my dove!
_Laer._
(_Coming down_ R.)
Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,
It could not move thus.
_Oph._ You must sing, _Down-a-down,[22] an you call him a-down-a._ O,
how well the wheel becomes it![23] It is the false steward, that
stole his master's daughter.
_Laer._ This nothing's more than matter.
_Oph._ There's rosemary, that's for remembrance;[24] pray you, love,
remember: and there is pansies,[25] that's for thoughts.
_Laer._ A document in madness; thoughts and remembrance fitted.
_Oph._ There's fennel for you,
(_crosses to the_ KING _on_ L.H.)
and columbines:[26] there's rue for you;
(_turns to the_ QUEEN, _who is_ R.C.)
and here's some for me:--we may call it herb of grace
o'Sundays:[27]--you may wear your rue with a difference.[28]--There's
a daisy:[29]--I would give you some violets,[30] but they withered
all when my father died:--They say he made a good end,----
_For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy--_[31]
_Laer._ (R.) Thought and affliction,[32] passion, hell itself,
She turns to favour and to prettiness.
_Oph._
_And will he not come again?_
_And will he not come again?_
_No, no, he is dead_,
_Gone to his death-bed_,
_He never will come again._
_His beard was white as snow_,
_All flaxen was his poll:_
_He is gone, he is gone_,
_And we cast away moan:_
_Heaven 'a mercy on his soul!_
And of all christian souls, I pray Heaven. Heaven be wi' you.
[_Exit_ OPHELIA, R.C., QUEEN _following._]
_Laer._ Do you see this, O Heaven?
_King._ (L.C.) Laertes, I must commune with your grief,[33]
Or you deny me right.
Be you content to lend your patience to us,
And we shall jointly labour with your soul
To give it due content.
_Laer._ (R.C.) Let this be so;
His means of death, his obscure funeral,--
No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,[34]
No noble rite nor formal ostentation,--
Cry to be heard,[35] as 'twere 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.[36]
How now! what news?
_Enter_ BERNARDO (R.H.C.)
_Ber._ (C.) Letters, my lord, from Hamlet:
This to your majesty; this to the Queen.
_King._ From Hamlet! who brought them?
_Ber._ Sailors, my lord, they say; I saw them not.
_King._ Laertes, you shall hear them.--
Leave us.
[_Exit_, L.H.C.]
[Reads.]
_High and mighty, You shall know I am set naked on your kingdom.[37]
To morrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes: when I shall,
first asking your pardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my sudden
and more strange return._ HAMLET.
What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?
Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?
_Laer._ (R.) Know you the hand?
_King._ (L.) 'Tis Hamlet's character:[38] _Naked,--_
And in a postscript here, he says, _alone_.
Can you advise me?
_Laer._ I am lost in it, my lord. But let him come;
It warms the very sickness in my heart,
That I shall live and tell him to his teeth,
_Thus diddest thou_.
_King._ If it be so, Laertes,
Will you be rul'd by me?
_Laer._ Ay, my lord;
So you will not o'er-rule me to a peace.
_King._ To thine own peace.
Some two months since,
Here was a gentleman of Normandy,
He made confession of[39] you;
And gave you such a masterly report,
For art and exercise in your defence,[40]
And for your rapier most especially,
That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeed,
If one could match you: this report of his
Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy,
That he could nothing do but wish and beg
Your sudden coming o'er, to play with you.
Now, out of this,----
_Laer._ What out of this, my lord?
_King._ Laertes, was your father dear to you?
Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
A face without a heart?
_Laer._ Why ask you this?
_King._ Hamlet return'd shall know you are come home:
We'll put on those shall praise your excellence,
And set a double varnish on the fame
The Frenchman gave you; bring you, in fine, together,
And wager o'er your heads; he, being remiss,[41]
Most generous, and free from all contriving,
Will not peruse the foils:[42] so that, with ease,
Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
A sword unbated,[43] and, in a pass of practice,[44]
Requite him for your father.
_Laer._ I will do't:
And, for the purpose, I'll anoint my sword.
I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal, that but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood no cataplasm[45] so rare,
Collected from all simples[46] that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death
That is but scratch'd withal: I'll touch my point
With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.
_King._ (L.) Let's further think of this;
We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings,[47]
When in your motion[48] you are hot and dry,
(As make your bouts more violent to that end,)
And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepared him
A chalice for the nonce;[49] whereon but sipping,
If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,[50]
Our purpose may hold there. But stay, what noise?
_Enter_ QUEEN (R.C.)
_Queen._ (C.) One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
So fast they follow: Your sister's drown'd, Laertes.
_Laer._ (R.) Drown'd! O, where?
_Queen._ There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
Therewith fantastick garlands did she make
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples;[51]
There, on the pendent boughs her cornet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down her weedy trophies, and herself,
Fell in the weeping brook.
_Laer._ I forbid my tears: But yet
It is our trick:[52] nature her custom holds,
Let shame say what it will: when these are gone,
The woman will be out.[53]
Adieu, my lord:
I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze,
But that this folly drowns it.[54]
[_Exeunt._ C.]
END OF ACT FOURTH.
Notes
Act IV
[Footnote IV.1: _Translate:_] Interpret.]
[Footnote IV.2: _In this brainish apprehension_,] Distempered,
brainsick mood.]
[Footnote IV.3: _Where the offender's scourge is weigh'd, But
never the offence._] When an offender is popular, the people
never consider what his crime was, but they scrutinise his
punishment.]
[Footnote IV.4: _Politick worms_] _i.e._, artful, cunning worms.]
[Footnote IV.5: _The wind at help_,] _i.e._, ready.]
[Footnote IV.6: _May'st not coldly set_] Set is to value or
estimate. "Thou may'st not _set little by it_, or _estimate it
lightly_."]
[Footnote IV.7: _Our sovereign process:_] _i.e._, our royal
design.]
[Footnote IV.8: _By letters conjuring to that effect_,] The verb
to conjure, in the sense of to supplicate, was formerly accented
on the first syllable.]
[Footnote IV.9: _Howe'er my haps_,] Chances of fortune.]
[Footnote IV.10: _His sandal shoon._] Shoon is the old plural of
shoe. The verse is descriptive of a pilgrim. While this kind of
devotion was in favour, love intrigues were carried on under that
mask.]
[Footnote IV.11: _Larded with sweet flowers_;] _i.e._, Garnished
with sweet flowers.]
[Footnote IV.12: _Heaven 'ield you._] Requite; yield you
recompence.]
[Footnote IV.13: _The owl was a baker's daughter._] This is in
reference to a story that was once prevalent among the common
people of Gloucestershire.]
[Footnote IV.14: _Conceit upon her father._] Fancies respecting
her father.]
[Footnote IV.15: _Don'd and dupp'd_] _To don_, is to _do on_, or
_put on_, as _doff_ is to _do off_, or _put off_. To _dupp_ is to
_do up_, or _lift up_ the latch.]
[Footnote IV.16: _In a riotous head_,] The tide, strongly
flowing, is said to pour in with a great _head_.]
[Footnote IV.17: _The chaste unsmirched brow of my true mother._]
_Unsmirched_ is unstained, not defiled.]
[Footnote IV.18: _Doth hedge a king_,] The word _hedge_ is used
by the gravest writers upon the highest subjects.]
[Footnote IV.19: _Both the worlds I give to negligence_,] I am
careless of my present and future prospects, my views in this
life, as well as that which is to come.]
[Footnote IV.20: _My will, not all the world's:_] _i.e._, by my
will as far as my will is concerned, not all the world shall stop
me; and, as for my means, I'll husband them so well, they shall
go far, though really little.]
[Footnote IV.21: _Sensible in grief_] Poignantly affected with.]
[Footnote IV.22: _You must sing Down-a-down_,] This was the
burthen of an old song, well known in Shakespeare's time.]
[Footnote IV.23: _How well the wheel becomes it!_] This probably
means that the song or charm is well adapted to those who are
occupied at spinning at the wheel.]
[Footnote IV.24: _There's rosemary, that's for remembrance_;]
Rosemary was anciently supposed to strengthen the memory, and was
carried at funerals and wore at weddings. It was also considered
the emblem of fidelity in lovers; and at weddings it was usual to
dip the rosemary in the cup, and drink to the health of the new
married couple.]
[Footnote IV.25: _There is pansies_,] _i.e._, a little flower
called _heart's-ease_. Pansies in French signifies _thoughts_.]
[Footnote IV.26: _There's fennel for you, and columbines:_]
Fennel was considered an emblem of flattery, and columbine was
anciently supposed to be a _thankless flower_; signifying
probably that the courtiers flattered to get favours, and were
thankless after receiving them. Columbine was emblematical of
forsaken lovers.]
[Footnote IV.27: _There's rue for you; and here's some for
me:--we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays:_] Probably a
quibble is meant here, as _rue_ anciently signified the same as
_ruth_, _i.e._, sorrow. In the common dictionaries of
Shakespeare's time, it was called _herb of grace_. Ophelia wishes
to remind the Queen of the sorrow and contrition she ought to
feel for her unlawful marriage; and that she may wear her rue
with peculiar propriety on Sundays, when she solicits pardon for
the crime which she has so much occasion to _rue_ and repent
of.--MALONE.]
[Footnote IV.28: _You may wear your rue with a difference._]
_i.e._, to distinguish it from that worn by Ophelia, herself:
because her tears flowed from the loss of a father--those of the
Queen ought to flow for her guilt.]
[Footnote IV.29: _There's a daisy:_] A daisy signified a warning
to young women, not to trust the fair promises of their lovers.]
[Footnote IV.30: _I would give you some violets_,] Violets
signified faithfulness.]
[Footnote IV.31: _For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,--_] Part
of an old song.]
[Footnote IV.32: _Thought and affliction_,] Thought here, as in
many other places, means melancholy.]
[Footnote IV.33: _I must commune with your grief_,] _i.e._,
confer, discuss, or argue with.]
[Footnote IV.34: _No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his
bones_,] Not only the sword, but the helmet, gauntlet, spurs, and
tabard, (_i.e._, a coat whereon the armorial ensigns were
anciently depicted, from whence the term _coat_ of armour), are
hung over the grave of every knight.]
[Footnote IV.35: _Cry to be heard_,] All these multiplied
incitements are things which cry, &c.]
[Footnote IV.36: _Let the great axe fall._] _i.e._, the axe that
is to be laid to the root.]
[Footnote IV.37: _Naked on your kingdom_,] _i.e._, unprovided and
defenceless.]
[Footnote IV.38: _'Tis Hamlet's character_,] Peculiar mode of
shaping his letters.]
[Footnote IV.39: _Made confession of_] Acknowledged.]
[Footnote IV.40: _In your defence_,] _i.e._, "in your art and
science of defence."]
[Footnote IV.41: _He, being remiss_,] _i.e._, unsuspicious, not
cautious.]
[Footnote IV.42: _Peruse the foils_;] Closely inspect them.]
[Footnote IV.43: _A sword unbated_,] Not blunted, as foils are by
a button fixed to the end.]
[Footnote IV.44: _In a pass of practice_,] This probably means
some favourite pass, some trick of fencing, with which Hamlet was
inexperienced, and by which Laertes may be sure of success.]
[Footnote IV.45: _No cataplasm_,] _i.e._, poultice--a healing
application.]
[Footnote IV.46: _Collected from all simples_,] _i.e._, from all
ingredients in medicine.]
[Footnote IV.47: _On your cunnings_,] _i.e._, on your dexterity.]
[Footnote IV.48: _In your motion_] Exercise, rapid evolutions.]
[Footnote IV.49: _For the nonce_;] _i.e._, present purpose or
design.]
[Footnote IV.50: _Venom'd stuck_,] Thrust. Stuck was a term of
the fencing school.]
[Footnote IV.51: _Long purples_,] One of the names for a species
of orchis, a common English flower.]
[Footnote IV.52: _Our trick:_] Our course, or habit; a property
that clings to, or makes a part of, us.]
[Footnote IV.53:
_When these are gone_,
_The woman will be out._]
When these tears are shed, this womanish passion will be over.]
[Footnote IV.54: _But that this folly drowns it._] _i.e._, my
rage had flamed, if this flood of tears had not extinguished it.]
ACT V.
SCENE I.--A CHURCH YARD.
_Enter two_ Clowns,[1] _with spades, &c._ (L.H.U.E.)
_1st Clo._ (R.) Is she to be buried in christian burial that wilfully
seeks her own salvation?
_2nd Clo._ (L.) I tell thee she is; therefore make her grave
straight:[2] the crowner[3] hath set on her, and finds it christian
burial.
_1st Clo._ How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own
defence?
_2nd Clo._ Why, 'tis found so.
_1st Clo._ It must be _se offendendo_;[4] 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:[5]
argal,[6] she drowned herself wittingly.
_2nd Clo._ Nay, but hear you, goodman delver.[7]
_1st 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,[8] 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.
_2nd Clo._ But is this law?
_1st Clo._ Ay, marry is't; crowner's-quest law.[9]
_2nd Clo._ Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been a
gentlewoman, she should have been buried out of christian burial.
_1st Clo._ Why, there thou say'st:[10] And the more pity that great
folks should have countenance in this world to drown or hang
themselves, more than their even christian.[11] Come, my spade. There
is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:
they hold up Adam's profession.
_2nd Clo._ Was he a gentleman?[12]
_1st Clo._ He was the first that ever bore arms. I'll put another
question to thee: if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess
thyself----[13]
_2nd Clo._ Go to.
_1st Clo._ What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the
shipwright, or the carpenter?
_2nd Clo._ The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand
tenants.
_1st 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.
_2nd Clo._ Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a
carpenter?
_1st Clo._ Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.[14]
_2nd Clo._ Marry, now I can tell.
_1st Clo._ To't.
_2nd Clo._ Mass, I cannot tell.
_1st Clo._ Cudgel thy brains no more about it,[15] for your dull ass
will not mend his pace with beating; and, when you are asked this
question next, say, a grave-maker, the houses that he makes, last
till doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan, and fetch me a stoup of
liquor.[16]
[_Exit_ 2nd Clown, L.H.U.E.]
_Enter_ HAMLET _and_ HORATIO (L.H.U.E.)
First Clown _digs and sings._
_In youth, when I did love, did love_,[17]
_Methought, it was very sweet_,
_To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove_
_O, methought, there was nothing meet._
_Ham._
(_Behind the grave._)
Has this fellow no feeling of his business, he sings at grave-making?
_Hor._
(_On_ HAMLET'S R.)
Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.
_Ham._ 'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath the daintier
sense.[18]
_1st Clo._
_But age, with his stealing steps_,
_Hath clawed me in his clutch_,
_And hath shipped me into the land_,
_As if I had never been such._
[_Throws up a skull._]
_Ham._ That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once: How the
knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jaw-bone, that did
the first murder! This might be the pate of a politician, which this
ass now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent Heaven, might it not?
_Hor._ It might, my lord.
[_Gravedigger throws up bones._]
_Ham._ Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but to play at
loggats with them?[19] mine ache to think on't.
_1st Clo._
[_Sings._]
_A pick-axe and a spade, a spade_,
_For and a shrouding sheet:_[20]
_O, a pit of clay for to be made_
_For such a guest is meet._
[_Throws up a skull._
_Ham._ There's another: Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer?
Where be his quiddits now, his quillets,[21] his cases, his tenures,
and his tricks? Why does he suffer this rude knave now to knock him
about the sconce[22] with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of
his action of battery? I will speak to this fellow.--Whose grave's
this, sirrah?
_1st Clo._ Mine, sir.--
[_Sings._]
_O, a pit of clay for to be made_
_For such a guest is meet._
_Ham._ (R. _of grave._) I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest
in't.
_1st Clo._ You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not yours: for
my part, I do not lie in't, yet it is mine.
_Ham._ Thou dost lie in't, to be in't, and say it is thine: 'tis for
the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.
_1st. Clo._ 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again, from me to you.
_Ham._ What man dost thou dig it for?
_1st Clo._ For no man, sir.
_Ham._ What woman, then?
_1st Clo._ For none, neither.
_Ham._ Who is to be buried in't?
_1st Clo._ One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.
_Ham._ How absolute the knave is![23] we must speak by the card,[24]
or equivocation will undo us,
[_To_ HORATIO, R.]
How long hast thou been a grave-maker?
_1st Clo._ Of all the days i'the year, I came to't that day that our
last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.
_Ham._ How long's that since?
_1st Clo._ Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: It was the
very day that young Hamlet was born,[25] he that is mad, and sent
into England.
_Ham._ Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?
_1st Clo._ Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits there;
or, if he do not, 'tis no great matter there.
_Ham._ Why?
_1st Clo._ 'Twill not be seen in him there; there the men are as mad
as he.
_Ham._ How came he mad?
_1st Clo._ Very strangely, they say.
_Ham._ How strangely?
_1st Clo._ 'Faith, e'en with losing his wits.
_Ham._ Upon what ground?
_1st Clo._ Why, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, man and
boy, thirty years.
_Ham._ How long will a man lie i'the earth ere he rot?
_1st Clo._ 'Faith, if he be not rotten before he die, he will last
you some eight year or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.
_Ham._ Why he more than another?
_1st Clo._ Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that he
will keep out water a great while; and your water is a sore decayer
of your ill-begotten dead body. Here's a skull now, hath lain in the
earth three-and-twenty years.
_Ham._ Whose was it?
_1st Clo._ O, a mad fellow's it was: Whose do you think
it was?
_Ham._ Nay, I know not.
_1st Clo._ A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! he poured a flagon of
Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick's skull,
the king's jester.
_Ham._ This?
[_Takes the skull._]
_1st Clo._ E'en that.
_Ham._ 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. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not
how oft; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! 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 chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and
tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour[26] 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!
[_Gives the skull to HORATIO, who returns it to the grave-digger._]
_Hor._ E'en so, my lord.
_Ham._ To what base uses may we return, Horatio! Why may not
imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till it find it
stopping a bung-hole?
_Hor._ 'Twere to consider too curiously,[27] to consider so.
_Ham._ No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty
enough, and likelihood to lead it: As thus; Alexander died, Alexander
was buried, Alexander returneth to dust; the dust is earth; of earth
we make loam; And why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might
they not stop a beer barrel?
Imperial Cæsar,[28] dead and turn'd to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:
O, that the earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw![29]
But soft! but soft! aside: Here comes the king,
The queen, the courtiers: Who is this they follow?
And with such maimèd rites?[30] This doth betoken
The corse they follow did with desperate hand
Fordo its own life:[31] 'Twas of some estate.[32]
Couch we awhile, and mark.
[_Retiring with_ HORATIO, R.H.]
_Enter_ Priests, &c., _in procession; the corpse of_ OPHELIA,
LAERTES _and_ Mourners _following_; KING, QUEEN, _their_
Trains, _&c._
_Laer._
(L. _of the grave._)
What ceremony else?
_Ham._ (R.) That is Laertes,
A very noble youth.
_1st Priest._
(R. _of the grave._)
Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd
As we have warranty: Her death was doubtful;
And, but that great command o'ersways the order,[33]
She should in ground unsanctified have lodged
Till the last trumpet; for charitable prayers,
Shards,[34] flints, and pebbles, should be thrown on her:
Yet here she is allowed her virgin crants,[35]
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.[36]
_Laer._ Must there no more be done?
_1st Priest._ No more be done:
We should profane the service of the dead
To sing a _requiem_,[37] and such rest to her
As to peace-parted souls.
_Laer._ O, from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,[38]
A ministering angel shall my sister be,
When thou liest howling.
_Ham._ What, the fair Ophelia!
_Queen._
(_Behind the grave_, C. _with the_ KING.)
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 have strew'd thy grave.
_Laer._ O, treble woe
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head,
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense[39]
Depriv'd thee of!--Hold off the earth a while,
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
[_Leaps into the grave._]
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
Till of this flat a mountain you have made,
To o'ertop old Pelion,[40] or the skyish head
Of blue Olympus.
_Ham._
(_Advancing._)
What is he whose grief
Bears such an emphasis?--whose phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes them stand
Like wonder-wounded hearers?--this is I,
Hamlet the Dane.
_Laer._
(L., _leaping from the grave._)
The devil take thy soul!
[_Grappling with him._]
_Ham._ (R.C.) Thou pray'st not well.
I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;
For, though I am not splenetive and rash,
Yet have I in me something dangerous,
Which let thy wisdom fear: Hold off thy hand!
_King._ Pluck them asunder.
_Queen._ (C.) Hamlet, Hamlet!
_Ham._ (R.C.) Why, I will fight with him upon this theme
Until my eyelids will no longer wag.
_Queen._ O my son, what theme?
_Ham._ I lov'd Ophelia: forty thousand brothers
Could not, with all their quantity of love,
Make up my sum.--What wilt thou do for her?
_Queen._ O, he is mad, Laertes.
_Ham._ Come, show me what thou'lt do:
Wou'lt weep? wou'lt fight? wou'lt fast? wou'lt tear thyself?
I'll do't.--Dost thou come here to whine?
To outface me[41] with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her, and so will I:
And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
Millions of acres on us, till our ground,[42]
Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
Make Ossa[43] like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt 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 are disclos'd,[44]
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,[45] and dog will have his day.
[_Exit_, R.H.]
_King._ (C.) I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him.
[_Exit_ HORATIO, R.H.]
Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son,
[_Exit_ QUEEN, _attended_, R.H.]
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;[46]
[_To_ LAERTES.]
We'll put the matter to the present push.--
This grave shall have a living monument:[47]
An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
[_The characters group round the grave._]
SCENE II.--HALL IN THE CASTLE.
_Enter_ HAMLET _and_ HORATIO (R.H.)
_Ham._ But I am very sorry, good Horatio,
That to Laertes I forgot myself;
For by the image of my cause,[48] I see
The portraiture of his.
_Hor._ Peace! who comes here?
_Enter_ OSRIC (L.H.)
_Osr._ Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.
_Ham._ (C.) I humbly thank you, sir.--Dost know this water-fly?[49]
_Hor._ (R.) No, my good lord.
_Ham._ Thy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice to know him.
_Osr._ (L.) Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should
impart a thing to you from his majesty.
_Ham._ I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of spirit.[50] Your
bonnet to 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.
_Ham._ But yet, methinks it is very sultry and hot,[51] 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, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith.[52] Sir, here
is newly come to court Laertes; believe me, an absolute gentleman,
full of most excellent differences, of very soft society and great
showing:[53] Indeed, to speak feelingly of him,[54] he is the card or
calendar of gentry,[55] for you shall find in him the continent of
what part a gentleman would see.[56]
_Ham._ What imports the nomination of this gentleman?[57]
_Osr._ Of Laertes?
_Ham._ Of him, sir.
_Osr._ Sir, 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.[58]
_Osr._ I mean, sir, for his weapon.
_Ham._ What is his weapon?
_Osr._ Rapier and dagger.
_Ham._ That's two of his weapons: but, well.
_Osr._ The king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary horses:
against the which he has imponed,[59] as I take it, six French
rapiers and poignards, with their assigns, as girdle, hangers,[60] or
so: Three of the carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very
responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberal
conceit.[61]
_Ham._ What call you the carriages?
_Osr._ The carriages, sir, are the hangers.
_Ham._ The phrase would be more german[62] to the matter, if we could
carry cannon by our sides.
_Osr._ The king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passes between
yourself and him, he shall not exceed you three hits; and it would
come to immediate trial, if your lordship would vouchsafe the
answer.[63]
_Ham._ How if I answer no?[64]
_Osr._ I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.
_Ham._ Sir, it is the breathing time of day with me; let the foils be
brought, the gentleman willing, and the king hold his purpose, I will
win for him if I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and
the odd hits.
_Osr._ Shall I deliver you so?
_Ham._ To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.
_Osr._ I commend my duty to your lordship. [_Exit_, L.H.]
_Hor._ (R.) You will lose this wager, my lord.
_Ham._ (C.) I do not think so; since he went into France, I have been
in continual practice; I shall win at the odds.[65] 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,[66]
as would, perhaps, trouble a woman.
_Hor._ If your mind dislike any thing, obey it:[67] I will forestall
their repair hither, and say, you are not fit.
_Ham._ Not a whit, we defy augury: there is a special providence in
the fall of a sparrow.
[_Exeunt_, L.H.]
SCENE III.--ROOM IN THE CASTLE.
KING _and_ QUEEN, _on a dais_, LAERTES (R.), LORDS (R.),
LADIES (L.), OSRIC (R.) _and_ Attendants, _with Foils, &c.,
discovered_ (R.H.); _Tables_ (R. _and_ L.)--
_Flourish of Trumpets._
_Enter_ HAMLET _and_ HORATIO (L.H.)
_King._ Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from
me.
_Ham._ (_offering his hand to_ LAERTES) Give me your
pardon, sir: I have done you wrong;
But pardon it, as you are a gentleman.
Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd evil
Free me so far in your most generous thoughts,
That I have shot my arrow o'er the house,
And hurt my brother.
_Laer._ (R.) I am satisfied in nature,
Whose motive, in this case, should stir me most
To my revenge.
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.
_Laer._ Come, one for me.
_Ham._ I'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignorance
Your skill shall, like a star i'the darkest night,
Stick fiery off indeed.[68]
_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's better'd,[69] we have therefore odds.
_Laer._ This is too heavy, let me see another.
_Ham._ This likes me well. These foils have all a length?
_Osr._ Ay, my good lord.
_King._ Set me the stoups of wine[70] upon that table.--
[Pages _exeunt_ R. _and_ L.]
If Hamlet give the first or second hit,
Or quit[71] in answer to the third exchange,
Let all the battlements their ordnance fire;
The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;
And in the cup an union shall he throw,[72]
Richer than that which four successive kings
In Denmark's crown have worn.
[Pages _return with wine._]
Give me the cup;
And let the kettle[73] to the trumpet speak,
The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth,
_Now the king drinks to Hamlet._--Come, begin;
And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.
_Ham._ Come on, sir.
_Laer._ Come, my lord.
[_They play._]
_Ham._ One.
_Laer._ No.
_Ham._ Judgment.
_Osr._ A hit, a very palpable hit.
_Laer._ Well:--again.
_King._ Stay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;
[_Drops poison into the goblet._]
Here's to thy health.
[_Pretends to drink._]
[_Trumpets sound; and cannon shot off within._]
Give him the cup.
_Ham._ I'll play this bout first; set it by awhile.
[Page _places the goblet on table_, L.]
Come.
Another hit; What say you?
[_They play._]
_Laer._ A touch, a touch, I do confess.
_King._ Our son shall win.
_Queen._ The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.[74]
_Ham._ Good madam!----
[_Trumpets sound._]
_King._ Gertrude, do not drink.
_Queen._ I have, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.
_King._ It is the poison'd cup; it is too late.
[_Aside._]
_Laer._ I'll hit him now
And yet it is almost against my conscience.
[_Aside._]
_Ham._ Come, for the third, Laertes: You do but dally;
I pray you, pass with your best violence;
I am afeard you make a wanton of me.[75]
_Laer._ Say you so? come on.
[_They play._]
[LAERTES _wounds_ HAMLET; _then, in scuffling they change
Rapiers, and_ HAMLET _wounds_ LAERTES.]
_King._ Part them; they are incensed.
_Ham._ Nay, come, again.
[_The_ QUEEN _falls back in her chair._]
_Osr._
(_Supporting_ LAERTES, R.)
Look to the queen there, ho!
_Hor._
(_Supporting_ HAMLET, L.)
How is it, my lord?
_Osr._ How is't, Laertes?
_Laer._ Why, as a woodcock to my own springe,[76] Osric;
I am justly killed with mine own treachery.
_Ham._ How does the queen?
_King._ She swoons to see them bleed.
_Queen._ No, no, the drink, the drink,--O, my dear Hamlet,--
The drink, the drink! I am poison'd.
[_The_ QUEEN _is conveyed off the stage by her attendant_
Ladies, _in a dying state_, L.H.U.E.]
_Ham._ O villainy! Ho! let the doors be lock'd:
Treachery! seek it out.
[LAERTES _falls._]
_Laer._ (R.) 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's life;
The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,
Unbated and envenom'd:[77] the foul practice[78]
Hath 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.
Here, thou incestuous, murd'rous, damnèd Dane,
Follow my mother.
[_Stabs the_ KING, _who is borne away by his attendants,
mortally wounded_, R.H.U.E.]
_Laer._ He is justly serv'd;
Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:
Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,
Nor thine on me!
[_Dies._]
_Ham._ (C.) Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.
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,[79]
Is strict in his arrest), O, I could tell you,--
But let it be. Horatio,
Report me and my cause aright
To the unsatisfied.
_Hor._ (L.) Never believe it:
I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:
Here's yet some liquor left.
[_Seizing the goblet on table_, L.]
_Ham._ As thou'rt a man,--
Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have it.
[_Dashes the goblet away._]
O good Horatio, what a wounded name,
Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me![80]
If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Absènt thee from felicity awhile,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
To tell my story.--
O, I die, Horatio;
The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit;[81]
The rest is silence.
[_Dies_, C., OSRIC _on his_ R., _and_ HORATIO _on his_ L.]
_Dead March afar off._
_Curtain slowly descends._
THE END.
Notes
Act V
[Footnote V.1: _Enter two Clowns_,] These characters are not in
the original story, but are introduced by Shakespeare.]
[Footnote V.2: _Make her grave straight:_] _i.e._, straightways,
forthwith.]
[Footnote V.3: _The crowner_] A corruption of coroner.]
[Footnote V.4: _It must be se offendendo_;] A confusion of things
as well as of terms: used for _se defendendo_, a finding of the
jury in justifiable homicide.]
[Footnote V.5: _To act, to do, and to perform:_] Warburton says,
this is ridicule on scholastic divisions without distinction, and
of distinctions without difference.]
[Footnote V.6: _Argal_,] A corruption of the Latin word, _ergo,
therefore_.]
[Footnote V.7: _Delver._] _i.e._, a digger, one that opens the
ground with a spade.]
[Footnote V.8: _If the man go to this water,--it is, will he,
nill he, he goes_,] Still floundering and confounding himself. He
means to represent it as a _wilful_ act, and of course without
any mixture of _nill_ or nolens in] it. Had he gone, as stated,
whether he _would or not_, it would not have been of his own
accord, or his act.]
[Footnote V.9: _Crowner's-quest law._] Crowner's-quest is a
vulgar corruption of coroner's inquest.]
[Footnote V.10: _Why, there thou say'st_] Say'st something,
speak'st to the purpose.]
[Footnote V.11: _More than their even christian._] An old English
expression for fellow-christian.]
[Footnote V.12: _Was he a gentleman?_] Mr. Douce says this is
intended as a ridicule upon heraldry.]
[Footnote V.13: _Confess thyself----_] Admit, or by
acknowledgment pass sentence upon thyself, as a simpleton?
"Confess, and be hanged," was a proverbial sentence.]
[Footnote V.14: _Tell me that, and unyoke._] Unravel this, and
your day's work is done, your team may then unharness.]
[Footnote V.15: _Cudgel thy brains no more about it_;] _i.e._,
beat about thy brains no more.]
[Footnote V.16: _A stoup of liquor._] A stoup is a jug.]
[Footnote V.17: _In youth, when I did love, did love._] The three
stanzas sung here by the Grave-Digger, are extracted, with a
slight variation, from a little poem called _The Aged Lover
renounceth Love_, written by Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, who
was beheaded in 1547. The song is to be found in Dr. Percy's
_Reliques of Ancient English Poetry_.]
[Footnote V.18: _The hand of little employment hath the daintier
sense._] _i.e._, its "palm less dulled or staled."]
[Footnote V.19: _But to play at loggats with them?_] A _loggat_
is a small _log_, or piece of wood; a diminutive from _log_.
Hence _loggats_, as the name of an old game among the common
people, and one of those forbidden by a statute of the 33rd of
Henry VIII. A stake was fixed into the ground, and those who
played threw _loggats_ at it.]
[Footnote V.20: _For and a shrouding sheet:_] For and is an
ancient expression, answering to _and eke, and likewise_.]
[Footnote V.21: _Where be his quiddits now, his quillets_,]
Quiddits are subtilties; quillets are nice and frivolous
distinctions.]
[Footnote V.22: _Knock him about the sconce_] _i.e._, head.]
[Footnote V.23: _How absolute the knave is!_] Peremptory,
strictly and tyrannously precise.]
[Footnote V.24: _We must speak by the card_,] The _card_ is the
mariner's compass. Properly the paper on which the points of the
wind are marked. Hence, _to speak by the card_, meant to speak
with great exactness; true to a point.]
[Footnote V.25: _The very day that young Hamlet was born_,] It
would appear by this that Hamlet was thirty years old, and knew
Yorick well, who had been dead twenty-two years.]
[Footnote V.26: _Favour_] Feature, countenance, or complexion.]
[Footnote V.27: _'Twere to consider too curiously_,] Be pressing
the argument with too much critical nicety, to dwell upon mere
possibilities.]
[Footnote V.28: _Imperial Cæsar_,] In some edition it is
_imperious_ Cæsar. Imperious was a more ancient term, signifying
the same as imperial.]
[Footnote V.29: _The winter's flaw!_] _i.e._, winter's blast.]
[Footnote V.30: _Maimèd rites?_] Curtailed, imperfect.]
[Footnote V.31: _Fordo its own life:_] Destroy.]
[Footnote V.32: _'Twas of some estate._] _i.e._, of rank or
station.]
[Footnote V.33: _Command o'ersways the order_,] The course which
ecclesiastical rules prescribe.]
[Footnote V.34: _Shards_,] _i.e._, broken pots or tiles.]
[Footnote V.35: _Virgin crants_,] _i.e._, virgin garlands. Nares,
in his Glossary, says that _crants_ is a German word, and
probably Icelandic.]
[Footnote V.36: _Bringing home of bell and burial_,] Conveying to
her last home with these accustomed forms of the church, and this
sepulture in consecrated ground.]
[Footnote V.37: _A requiem_,] A mass performed in Popish churches
for the rest of the soul of a person deceased.]
[Footnote V.38: _Churlish priest_,] Churlish is, figuratively,
ill-humoured, ill-bred, uncourtly, "rustic and rude."]
[Footnote V.39: _Ingenious sense_] Life and sense.]
[Footnote V.40: _To o'ertop old Pelion_,] Pelion is one of a
lofty range of mountains in Thessaly. The giants, in their war
with the gods, are said to have attempted to heap Ossa and
Olympus on Pelion, in order to scale Heaven.]
[Footnote V.41: _Outface me_] _i.e._, brave me.]
[Footnote V.42: _Our ground_,] The earth about us.]
[Footnote V.43: _Ossa_] A celebrated mountain in Thessaly,
connected with Pelion, and in the neighbourhood of Mount
Olympus.]
[Footnote V.44: _Her golden couplets are disclos'd_,] To
disclose, was anciently used for to _hatch_. A pigeon never lays
more than two eggs.]
[Footnote V.45: _The cat will mew, and dog, &c._] "Things have
their appointed course; nor have we power to divert it," may be
the sense here conveyed.]
[Footnote V.46: _Strengthen your patience in our last night's
speech_;] Let the consideration of the topics then urged, confirm
your resolution taken of quietly waiting events a little longer.]
[Footnote V.47: _This grave shall have a living monument:_] There
is an ambiguity in this phrase. It either means an _endurable_
monument such as will outlive time, or it darkly hints at the
impending fate of Hamlet.]
[Footnote V.48: _Image of my cause_,] Representation or
character.]
[Footnote V.49: _Dost know this water-fly?_] Dr. Johnson remarks
that a _water-fly_ skips up and down upon the surface of the
water, without any apparent purpose or reason, and is thence the
proper emblem of a busy trifler.]
[Footnote V.50: _All diligence of spirit._] "With the whole bent
of my mind." A happy phraseology; in ridicule, at the same time
that it was in conformity with the style of the airy, affected
insect that was playing round him.]
[Footnote V.51: _Very sultry and hot_,] Hamlet is here playing
over the same farce with Osric which he had formerly done with
Polonius. The idea of this scene is evidently suggested by
Juvenal.]
[Footnote V.52: _For mine ease, in good faith._] From
contemporary authors this appears to have been the ordinary
language of courtesy in our author's own time.]
[Footnote V.53: _An absolute--a great showing:_] A finished
gentleman, full of various accomplishments, of gentle manners,
and very imposing appearance.]
[Footnote V.54: _To speak feelingly of him_,] With insight and
intelligence.
[Footnote V.55: _Card or calendar of gentry_,] The card by which
a gentleman is to direct his course; the calendar by which he is
to choose his time, that what he does may be both excellent and
seasonable.]
[Footnote V.56: _The continent of what part a gentleman would
see._] The word continent in this sense is frequently used by
Shakespeare; _i.e._, you shall find him _containing_ and
_comprising_ every quality which a _gentleman_ would desire to
_contemplate_ for imitation.]
[Footnote V.57: _What imports the nomination, &c._] What is the
object of the introduction of this gentleman's name?]
[Footnote V.58: _I dare not--lest I should compare--were to know
himself._] No one can have a perfect conception of the measure of
another's excellence, unless he shall himself come up to that
standard. Dr. Johnson says, I dare not pretend to know him, lest
I should pretend to an equality: no man can completely know
another, but by knowing himself, which is the utmost extent of
human wisdom.]
[Footnote V.59: _He has imponed_,] _i.e._, to lay down as a stake
or wager. Impono.]
[Footnote V.60: _Hangers_,] That part of the girdle or belt by
which the swords were suspended was, in our poet's time, called
the _hangers_.]
[Footnote V.61: _Very dear to fancy--very liberal conceit._] Of
exquisite invention, well adapted to their hilts, and in their
conception rich and high fashioned.]
[Footnote V.62: _More german_] More a-kin.]
[Footnote V.63: _Vouchsafe the answer._] Condescend to answer, or
meet his wishes.]
[Footnote V.64: _How if I answer, no?_] Reply.]
[Footnote V.65: _I shall win at the odds._] I shall succeed with
the advantage that I am allowed.]
[Footnote V.66: _Gain-giving_,] Misgiving.]
[Footnote V.67: _If your mind, &c._] If you have any presentiment
of evil, yield to its suggestion.]
[Footnote V.68: _Like a star i'the darkest night, stick fiery
off_] Be made by the strongest relief to stand brightly
prominent.]
[Footnote V.69: _Better'd_,] He stands higher in estimation.]
[Footnote V.70: _Stoups of wine_] Flagons of wine.]
[Footnote V.71: _Quit in answer_] Make the wager _quit_, or so
far drawn.]
[Footnote V.72: _An union shall he throw_,] _i.e._, a fine pearl.
To swallow a pearl in a draught seems to have been equally common
to royal and mercantile prodigality. It may be observed that
pearls were supposed to possess an exhilarating quality. It was
generally thrown into the drink as a compliment to some
distinguished guest, and the King in this scene, under the
pretence of throwing a pearl into the cup, drops some poisonous
drug into the wine.]
[Footnote V.73: _Kettle_] _i.e._, kettle drum.]
[Footnote V.74: _The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet._]
_i.e._, drinks to your success.]
[Footnote V.75: _You make a wanton of me._] _i.e._, you trifle
with me as if you were playing with a child.]
[Footnote V.76: _As a woodcock to my own springe._] I have run
into a springe like a woodcock, and into such a noose or trap as
a fool only would have fallen into; one of my own setting.]
[Footnote V.77: _Unbated, and envenom'd:_] _i.e._, having a sharp
point envenomed with poison.]
[Footnote V.78: _The foul practice_] _i.e._, the wicked trick
which I have practised.]
[Footnote V.79: _Fell sergeant, death_,] _i.e._, cruel
sergeant--sergeant being an officer of the law.]
[Footnote V.80: _Live behind me!_] Survive me.]
[Footnote V.81: _Quite o'ercrows my spirit_;] Overpowers, exults
over; no doubt an image taken from the lofty carriage of a
victorious cock.]