Edition: HamletHamlet, Q2 Modern

1.1

Enter Barnardo and Francisco, two sentinels.
1.1.Sp1Barnardo
Who’s there?
1.1.Sp2Francisco
Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.
1.1.Sp3Barnardo
Long live the King!
1.1.Sp4Francisco
Barnardo?
1.1.Sp5Barnardo
He.
1.1.Sp6Francisco
You come most carefully upon your hour.
1.1.Sp7Barnardo
’Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.
1.1.Sp8Francisco
For this relief much thanks. ’Tis bitter cold,
And I am sick at heart.
1.1.Sp9Barnardo
Have you had quiet guard?
1.1.Sp10Francisco
Not a mouse stirring.
1.1.Sp11Barnardo
Well, good night.
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
1.1.Sp12Francisco
I think I hear them.—Stand, ho! Who is there?
1.1.Sp13Horatio
Friends to this ground.
1.1.Sp14Marcellus
And liegemen to the Dane.
1.1.Sp15Francisco
Give you good night.
1.1.Sp16Marcellus
Oh, farewell, honest soldiers. Who hath relieved you?
1.1.Sp17Francisco
Barnardo hath my place. Give you good night.
Exit Francisco.
1.1.Sp18Marcellus
Holla, Barnardo!
1.1.Sp19Barnardo
Say, what, is Horatio there?
1.1.Sp20Horatio
A piece of him.
1.1.Sp21Barnardo
Welcome, Horatio. Welcome, good Marcellus.
1.1.Sp22Horatio
What, has this thing appeared again tonight?
1.1.Sp23Barnardo
I have seen nothing.
1.1.Sp24Marcellus
Horatio says ’tis but our fantasy,
And will not let belief take hold of him,
Touching this dreaded sight twice seen of us.
Therefore I have entreated him along,
With us to watch the minutes of this night,
That if again this apparition come
He may approve our eyes and speak to it.
1.1.Sp25Horatio
Tush, tush, ’twill not appear.
1.1.Sp26Barnardo
Sit down awhile,
And let us once again assail your ears,
That are so fortified against our story,
What we have two nights seen.
1.1.Sp27Horatio
Well, sit we down,
And let us hear Barnardo speak of this.
1.1.Sp28Barnardo
Last night of all,
When yond same star that’s westward from the pole
Had made his course t’illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
The bell then beating one—
Enter Ghost.
1.1.Sp29Marcellus
Peace, break thee off! Look where it comes again!
1.1.Sp30Barnardo
In the same figure like the King that’s dead.
1.1.Sp31Marcellus
Thou art a scholar. Speak to it, Horatio.
1.1.Sp32Barnardo
Looks ’a not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.
1.1.Sp33Horatio
Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.
1.1.Sp34Barnardo
It would be spoke to.
1.1.Sp35Marcellus
Speak to it, Horatio.
1.1.Sp36Horatio
What art thou that usurp’st this time of night, Together with that fair and warlike form In which the majesty of buried Denmark Did sometimes march? By heaven, I charge thee speak!
1.1.Sp37Marcellus
It is offended.
1.1.Sp38Barnardo
See, it stalks away.
1.1.Sp39Horatio
Stay, speak, speak, I charge thee speak!
Exit Ghost.
1.1.Sp40Marcellus
’Tis gone, and will not answer.
1.1.Sp41Barnardo
How now, Horatio, you tremble and look pale. Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you on’t?
1.1.Sp42Horatio
Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes.
1.1.Sp43Marcellus
Is it not like the King?
1.1.Sp44Horatio
As thou art to thyself. Such was the very armor he had on When he the ambitious Norway combated. So frowned he once, when in an angry parle He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. ’Tis strange.
1.1.Sp45Marcellus
Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
1.1.Sp46Horatio
In what particular thought to work I know not, But in the gross and scope of mine opinion This bodes some strange eruption to our state.
1.1.Sp47Marcellus
Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, Why this same strict and most observant watch So nightly toils the subject of the land, And with such daily cost of brazen cannon And foreign mart for implements of war, Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task Does not divide the Sunday from the week: What might be toward, that this sweaty haste Doth make the night joint-laborer with the day? Who is’t that can inform me?
1.1.Sp48Horatio
That can I. At least the whisper goes so: our last King, Whose image even but now appeared to us, Was as you know by Fortinbras of Norway, Thereto pricked on by a most emulate pride, Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet— For so this side of our known world esteemed him— Did slay this Fortinbras, who by a sealed compact Well ratified by law and heraldry Did forfeit, with his life, all these his lands Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror; Against the which a moiety competent Was gagèd by our King, which had return To the inheritance of Fortinbras Had he been vanquisher, as, by the same comart And carriage of the article design His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, Of unimprovèd mettle hot and full, Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there Sharked up a list of lawless resolutes For food and diet to some enterprise That hath a stomach in’t, which is no other, As it doth well appear unto our state, But to recover of us by strong hand And terms compulsatory those foresaid lands So by his father lost. And this, I take it, Is the main motive of our preparations, The source of this our watch, and the chief head Of this post-haste and rummage in the land.
1.1.Sp49Barnardo
I think it be no other but e’en so. Well may it sort that this portentous figure Comes armèd through our watch so like the King That was and is the question of these wars.
1.1.Sp50Horatio
A mote it is to trouble the mind’s eye. In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets, As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, Disasters in the sun; and the moist star, Upon whose influence Neptune’s empire stands, Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse. And even the like precurse of feared events, As harbingers preceding still the fates And prologue to the omen coming on, Have heaven and earth together demonstrated Unto our climatures and countrymen. (Enter Ghost.) But soft, behold, lo, where it comes again! I’ll cross it though it blast me.—Stay, illusion!
It spreads his arms.
If thou hast any sound or use of voice, Speak to me! If there be any good thing to be done That may to thee do ease and grace to me, Speak to me! If thou art privy to thy country’s fate, Which happily foreknowing may avoid, Oh, speak! Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, For which, they say, your spirits oft walk in death, Speak of it. Stay and speak! (The cock crows.) Stop it, Marcellus!
1.1.Sp51Marcellus
Shall I strike it with my partisan?
1.1.Sp52Horatio
Do, if it will not stand.
1.1.Sp53Barnardo
’Tis here.
1.1.Sp54Horatio
’Tis here.
Exit Ghost.
1.1.Sp55Marcellus
’Tis gone. We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show of violence, For it is as the air, invulnerable, And our vain blows malicious mockery.
1.1.Sp56Barnardo
It was about to speak when the cock crew.
1.1.Sp57Horatio
And then it started like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day, and, at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, Th’extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine; and of the truth herein This present object made probation.
1.1.Sp58Marcellus
It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated, This bird of dawning singeth all night long, And then they say no spirit dare stir abroad; The nights are wholesome, then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallowed and so gracious is that time.
1.1.Sp59Horatio
So have I heard and do in part believe it. But look, the morn in russet mantle clad Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward hill. Break we our watch up, and by my advice Let us impart what we have seen tonight Unto young Hamlet, for, upon my life, This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
1.1.Sp60Marcellus
Let’s do ’t, I pray, and I this morning know Where we shall find him most convenient.
Exeunt.

1.2

Flourish. Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Council—as Polonius and his son Laertes, Hamlet, with others including Voltemand and Cornelius.
1.2.Sp1King
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother’s death The memory be green, and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe, Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature That we with wisest sorrow think on him Together with remembrance of ourselves. Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, Th’imperial jointress to this warlike state, Have we as ’twere with a defeated joy, With an auspicious and a dropping eye, With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and dole, Taken to wife. Nor have we herein barred Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along. For all, our thanks. Now follows that you know young Fortinbras, Holding a weak supposal of our worth, Or thinking by our late dear brother’s death Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, Co-leaguèd with this dream of his advantage, He hath not failed to pester us with message Importing the surrender of those lands Lost by his father, with all bands of law, To our most valiant brother. So much for him. Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting, Thus much the business is: we have here writ To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras, Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears Of this his nephew’s purpose, to suppress His further gait herein, in that the levies, The lists, and full proportions are all made Out of his subject; and we here dispatch You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand, For bearers of this greeting to old Norway, Giving to you no further personal power To business with the King more than the scope Of these delated articles allow. Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.
1.2.Sp2Cornelius and Voltemand
In that and all things will we show our duty.
1.2.Sp3King
We doubt it nothing. Heartily farewell. Exeunt Voltemand and Cornelius. And now, Laertes, what’s the news with you? You told us of some suit. What is’t, Laertes? You cannot speak of reason to the Dane And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg, Laertes, That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? The head is not more native to the heart, The hand more instrumental to the mouth, Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. What wouldst thou have, Laertes?
1.2.Sp4Laertes
My dread lord, Your leave and favor to return to France, From whence though willingly I came to Denmark To show my duty in your coronation, Yet now I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
1.2.Sp5King
Have you your father’s leave? What says Polonius?
1.2.Sp6Polonius
H’ath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave By laborsome petition, and at last Upon his will I sealed my hard consent. I do beseech you, give him leave to go.
1.2.Sp7King
Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will. But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son—
1.2.Sp8Hamlet
A little more than kin, and less than kind.
1.2.Sp9King
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
1.2.Sp10Hamlet
Not so much, my lord, I am too much in the "son."
1.2.Sp11Queen
Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not forever with thy vailèd lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust. Thou know’st ’tis common: all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
1.2.Sp12Hamlet
Ay, madam, it is common.
1.2.Sp13Queen
If it be, Why seems it so particular with thee?
1.2.Sp14Hamlet
"Seems," madam? Nay, it is, I know not "seems." ’Tis not alone my inky cloak, cold mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected havior of the visage, Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief That can denote me truly. These indeed seem, For they are actions that a man might play. But I have that within which passes show; These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
1.2.Sp15King
’Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, To give these mourning duties to your father. But you must know your father lost a father; That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound In filial obligation for some term To do obsequious sorrow; but to persever In obstinate condolement is a course Of impious stubbornness. ’Tis unmanly grief. It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, A heart unfortified, or mind impatient, An understanding simple and unschooled; For what we know must be and is as common As any the most vulgar thing to sense, Why should we in our peevish opposition Take it to heart? Fie, ’tis a fault to .heaven, A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, To reason most absurd, whose common theme Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried From the first corse till he that died today "This must be so." We pray you throw to earth This unprevailing woe, and think of us As of a father; for let the world take note You are the most immediate to our throne, And with no less nobility of love Than that which dearest father bears his son Do I impart toward you. For your intent In going back to school in Wittenberg, It is most retrograde to our desire, And we beseech you bend you to remain Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye, Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
1.2.Sp16Queen
Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet. I pray thee stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.
1.2.Sp17Hamlet
I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
1.2.Sp18King
Why, ’tis a loving and a fair reply. Be as ourself in Denmark.—Madam, come. This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof No jocund health that Denmark drinks today But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, And the King’s rouse the heaven shall bruit again, Respeaking earthly thunder. Come, away!
Flourish. Exeunt all but Hamlet.
1.2.Sp19Hamlet
Oh, that this too too sallied flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fixed His canon ’gainst self-slaughter! Oh, God, God, How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on’t, ah, fie! ’Tis an unweeded garden That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come thus! But two months dead—nay, not so much, not two! So excellent a king, that was to this Hyperion to a satyr, so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth, Must I remember? Why, she should hang on him As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on. And yet within a month— Let me not think on’t; frailty, thy name is woman! A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she followed my poor father’s body, Like Niobe, all tears, why, she— Oh, God, a beast that wants discourse of reason Would have mourned longer!—married with my uncle, My father’s brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules. Within a month, Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her gallèd eyes, She married. Oh, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not, nor it cannot come to good, But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Barnardo.
1.2.Sp20Horatio
Hail to your lordship!
1.2.Sp21Hamlet
I am glad to see you well.— Horatio, or I do forget myself!
1.2.Sp22Horatio
The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
1.2.Sp23Hamlet
Sir, my good friend, I’ll change that name with you. And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?— Marcellus.
1.2.Sp24Marcellus
My good lord.
1.2.Sp25Hamlet
I am very glad to see you. To Barnardo. Good even, sir. To Horatio But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
1.2.Sp26Horatio
A truant disposition, good my lord.
1.2.Sp27Hamlet
I would not hear your enemy say so, Nor shall you do my ear that violence To make it truster of your own report Against yourself. I know you are no truant. But what is your affair in Elsinore? We’ll teach you for to drink ere you depart.
1.2.Sp28Horatio
My lord, I came to see your father’s funeral.
1.2.Sp29Hamlet
I prithee do not mock me, fellow student. I think it was to see my mother’s wedding.
1.2.Sp30Horatio
Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.
1.2.Sp31Hamlet
Thrift, thrift, Horatio. The funeral baked meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! My father—methinks I see my father.
1.2.Sp32Horatio
Where, my lord?
1.2.Sp33Hamlet
In my mind’s eye, Horatio.
1.2.Sp34Horatio
I saw him once. ’A was a goodly king.
1.2.Sp35Hamlet
’A was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
1.2.Sp36Horatio
My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
1.2.Sp37Hamlet
Saw? Who?
1.2.Sp38Horatio
My lord, the King your father.
1.2.Sp39Hamlet
The King my father?
1.2.Sp40Horatio
Season your admiration for a while With an attent ear till I may deliver, Upon the witness of these gentlemen, This marvel to you.
1.2.Sp41Hamlet
For God’s love, let me hear!
1.2.Sp42Horatio
Two nights together had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch In the dead waste and middle of the night Been thus encountered: a figure like your father Armed at point, exactly, cap-à-pie, Appears before them, and with solemn march Goes slow and stately by them. Thrice he walked By their oppressed and fear-surprisèd eyes Within his truncheon’s length, whilst they, distilled Almost to jelly with the act of fear, Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me In dreadful secrecy impart they did, And I with them the third night kept the watch, Where, as they had delivered, both in time, Form of the thing, each word made true and good, The apparition comes. I knew your father. These hands are not more like.
1.2.Sp43Hamlet
But where was this?
1.2.Sp44Marcellus
My lord, upon the platform where we watch.
1.2.Sp45Hamlet
Did you not speak to it?
1.2.Sp46Horatio
My lord, I did, But answer made it none. Yet once methought It lifted up it head and did address Itself to motion, like as it would speak; But even then the morning cock crew loud, And at the sound it shrunk in haste away And vanished from our sight.
1.2.Sp47Hamlet
’Tis very strange.
1.2.Sp48Horatio
As I do live, my honored lord, ’tis true, And we did think it writ down in our duty To let you know of it.
1.2.Sp49Hamlet
Indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch tonight?
1.2.Sp50All
We do, my lord.
1.2.Sp51Hamlet
Armed, say you?
1.2.Sp52All
Armed, my lord.
1.2.Sp53Hamlet
From top to toe?
1.2.Sp54All
My lord, from head to foot.
1.2.Sp55Hamlet
Then saw you not his face.
1.2.Sp56Horatio
Oh, yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.
1.2.Sp57Hamlet
What looked he, frowningly?
1.2.Sp58Horatio
A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
1.2.Sp59Hamlet
Pale, or red?
1.2.Sp60Horatio
Nay, very pale.
1.2.Sp61Hamlet
And fixed his eyes upon you?
1.2.Sp62Horatio
Most constantly.
1.2.Sp63Hamlet
I would I had been there.
1.2.Sp64Horatio
It would have much amazed you.
1.2.Sp65Hamlet
Very like. Stayed it long?
1.2.Sp66Horatio
While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.
1.2.Sp67Both
Longer, longer.
1.2.Sp68Horatio
Not when I saw’t.
1.2.Sp69Hamlet
His beard was grizzled, no?
1.2.Sp70Horatio
It was as I have seen it in his life, A sable silvered.
1.2.Sp71Hamlet
I will watch tonight. Perchance ’twill walk again.
1.2.Sp72Horatio
I warr’nt it will.
1.2.Sp73Hamlet
If it assume my noble father’s person, I’ll speak to it, though hell itself should gape And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, If you have hitherto concealed this sight Let it be tenable in your silence still, And whatsomever else shall hap tonight, Give it an understanding but no tongue; I will requite your loves. So, fare you well. Upon the platform ’twixt eleven and twelve I’ll visit you.
1.2.Sp74All
Our duty to your honor.
Exeunt all but Hamlet.
1.2.Sp75Hamlet
Your loves, as mine to you. Farewell. My father’s spirit—in arms! All is not well. I doubt some foul play. Would the night were come! Till then, sit still, my soul. Fond deeds will rise, Though all the earth o’erwhelm them, to men’s eyes.
Exit.

1.3

Enter Laertes, and Ophelia his sister.
1.3.Sp1Laertes
My necessaries are inbarked. Farewell. And sister, as the winds give benefit And convey is assistant, do not sleep But let me hear from you.
1.3.Sp2Ophelia
Do you doubt that?
1.3.Sp3Laertes
For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favor, Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, The perfume and suppliance of a minute, No more.
1.3.Sp4Ophelia
No more but so?
1.3.Sp5Laertes
Think it no more. For nature crescent does not grow alone In thews and bulks, but as this temple waxes The inward service of the mind and soul Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch The virtue of his will; but you must fear, His greatness weighed, his will is not his own. He may not, as unvalued persons do, Carve for himself, for on his choice depends The safety and health of this whole state, And therefore must his choice be circumscribed Unto the voice and yielding of that body Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you, It fits your wisdom so far to believe it As he in his particular act and place May give his saying deed, which is no further Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain If with too credent ear you list his songs, Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open To his unmastered importunity. Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister, And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire. The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmask her beauty to the moon. Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes. The canker galls the infants of the spring Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, And in the morn and liquid dew of youth Contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary, then; best safety lies in fear. Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
1.3.Sp6Ophelia
I shall the effect of this good lesson keep As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven Whiles, a puffed and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not his own rede.
Enter Polonius.
1.3.Sp7Laertes
Oh, fear me not. I stay too long. But here my father comes. A double blessing is a double grace; Occasion smiles upon a second leave.
1.3.Sp8Polonius
Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stayed for. There, my blessing with thee, And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel, But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatched, unfledged courage. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, Bear’t that th’opposèd may beware of thee. Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice. Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not expressed in fancy—rich, not gaudy, For the apparel oft proclaims the man, And they in France of the best rank and station Are of a most select and generous, chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender, boy, For love oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulleth edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell. My blessing season this in thee!
1.3.Sp9Laertes
Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
1.3.Sp10Polonius
The time invests you. Go. Your servants tend.
1.3.Sp11Laertes
Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well What I have said to you.
1.3.Sp12Ophelia
’Tis in my memory locked, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
1.3.Sp13Laertes
Farewell.
Exit Laertes.
1.3.Sp14Polonius
What is’t, Ophelia, he hath said to you?
1.3.Sp15Ophelia
So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.
1.3.Sp16Polonius
Marry, well bethought. ’Tis told me he hath very oft of late Given private time to you, and you yourself Have of your audience been most free and bounteous. If it be so—as so ’tis put on me, And that in way of caution—I must tell you You do not understand yourself so clearly As it behooves my daughter and your honor. What is between you? Give me up the truth.
1.3.Sp17Ophelia
He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders Of his affection to me.
1.3.Sp18Polonius
Affection? Pooh, you speak like a green girl, Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his "tenders," as you call them?
1.3.Sp19Ophelia
I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
1.3.Sp20Polonius
Marry, I will teach you. Think yourself a baby That you have ta’en these tenders for true pay Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly, Or—not to crack the wind of the poor phrase Wronging it thus—you’ll tender me a fool.
1.3.Sp21Ophelia
My lord, he hath importuned me with love In honorable fashion.
1.3.Sp22Polonius
Ay, fashion you may call it. Go to, go to.
1.3.Sp23Ophelia
And hath given countenance to his speech, My lord, with almost all the holy vows of heaven.
1.3.Sp24Polonius
Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter, Giving more light than heat, extinct in both Even in their promise as it is a-making , You must not take for fire. From this time Be something scanter of your maiden presence. Set your entreatments at a higher rate Than a command to parle. For Lord Hamlet, Believe so much in him that he is young, And with a larger tether may he walk Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia, Do not believe his vows, for they are brokers Not of that dye which their investments show, But mere implorators of unholy suits Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds The better to beguile. This is for all: I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth Have you so slander any moment leisure As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. Look to’t, I charge you. Come your ways.
1.3.Sp25Ophelia
I shall obey, my lord.
Exeunt.

1.4

Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.
1.4.Sp1Hamlet
The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
1.4.Sp2Horatio
It is nipping, and an eager air.
1.4.Sp3Hamlet
What hour now?
1.4.Sp4Horatio
I think it lacks of twelve.
1.4.Sp5Marcellus
No, it is struck.
1.4.Sp6Horatio
Indeed? I heard it not. It then draws near the season Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. (A flourish of trumpets, and two pieces goes off.) What does this mean, my lord?
1.4.Sp7Hamlet
The King doth wake tonight and takes his rouse, Keeps wassail, and the swagg’ring upspring reels; And as he drains his drafts of Rhenish down The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge.
1.4.Sp8Horatio
Is it a custom?
1.4.Sp9Hamlet
Ay, marry, is’t, But to my mind, though I am native here And to the manner born, it is a custom More honored in the breach than the observance. This heavy-headed revel east and west Makes us traduced and taxed of other nations. They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase Soil our addition, and indeed it takes From our achievements, though performed at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute. So, oft it chances in particular men, That, for some vicious mole of nature in them, As in their birth, wherein they are not guilty (Since nature cannot choose his origin), By the o’ergrowth of some complexion, Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, Or by some habit that too much o’erleavens The form of plausive manners, that these men, Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect (Being Nature’s livery, or Fortune’s star), His virtues else, be they as pure as grace, As infinite as man may undergo, Shall in the general censure take corruption From that particular fault. The dram of eale Doth all the noble substance often dout To his own scandal.
Enter Ghost.
1.4.Sp10Horatio
Look, my lord, it comes!
1.4.Sp11Hamlet
Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned, Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com’st in such a questionable shape That I will speak to thee. I’ll call thee Hamlet, King, father, royal Dane. Oh, answer me! Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell Why thy canonized bones, hearsèd in death, Have burst their cerements? Why the sepulcher Wherein we saw thee quietly interred Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws To cast thee up again? What may this mean That thou, dead corse, again in compleat steel Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon, Making night hideous, and we fools of nature So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do?
The Ghost beckons Hamlet.
1.4.Sp12Horatio
It beckons you to go away with it, As if it some impartment did desire To you alone.
1.4.Sp13Marcellus
Look with what courteous action It waves you to a more removèd ground. But do not go with it.
1.4.Sp14Horatio
No, by no means.
1.4.Sp15Hamlet
It will not speak. Then I will follow it.
1.4.Sp16Horatio
Do not, my lord.
1.4.Sp17Hamlet
Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin’s fee, And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself? The Ghost beckons Hamlet. It waves me forth again. I’ll follow it.
1.4.Sp18Horatio
What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff That beetles o’er his base into the sea, And there assume some other horrible form Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason And draw you into madness? Think of it: The very place puts toys of desperation, Without more motive, into every brain That looks so many fathoms to the sea And hears it roar beneath.
The Ghost beckons Hamlet.
1.4.Sp19Hamlet
It waves me still.—Go on, I’ll follow thee.
1.4.Sp20Marcellus
You shall not go, my lord.
They attempt to restrain him.
1.4.Sp21Hamlet
Hold off your hands!
1.4.Sp22Horatio
Be ruled. You shall not go.
1.4.Sp23Hamlet
My fate cries out And makes each petty artery in this body As hardy as the Nemean lion’s nerve. The Ghost beckons Hamlet. Still am I called. Unhand me, gentlemen! By heav’n, I’ll make a ghost of him that lets me. I say, away!—Go on, I’ll follow thee.
Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet.
1.4.Sp24Horatio
He waxes desperate with imagination.
1.4.Sp25Marcellus
Let’s follow. ’Tis not fit thus to obey him.
1.4.Sp26Horatio
Have after. To what issue will this come?
1.4.Sp27Marcellus
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
1.4.Sp28Horatio
Heaven will direct it.
1.4.Sp29Marcellus
Nay, let’s follow him.
Exeunt.

1.5

Enter Ghost and Hamlet.
1.5.Sp1Hamlet
Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak. I’ll go no further.
1.5.Sp2Ghost
Mark me.
1.5.Sp3Hamlet
I will.
1.5.Sp4Ghost
My hour is almost come When I to sulf’rous and tormenting flames Must render up myself.
1.5.Sp5Hamlet
Alas, poor ghost!
1.5.Sp6Ghost
Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold.
1.5.Sp7Hamlet
Speak. I am bound to hear.
1.5.Sp8Ghost
So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.
1.5.Sp9Hamlet
What?
1.5.Sp10Ghost
I am thy father’s spirit, Doomed for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combinèd locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fearful porpentine. But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, oh, list: If thou didst ever thy dear father love—
1.5.Sp11Hamlet
O God!
1.5.Sp12Ghost
Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.
1.5.Sp13Hamlet
Murder?
1.5.Sp14Ghost
Murder most foul, as in the best it is, But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.
1.5.Sp15Hamlet
Haste me to know’t, that I with wings as swift As meditation or the thoughts of love May sweep to my revenge.
1.5.Sp16Ghost
I find thee apt, And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: ’Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, A serpent stung me. So the whole ear of Denmark Is by a forgèd process of my death Rankly abused. But know, thou noble youth, The serpent that did sting thy father’s life Now wears his crown.
1.5.Sp17Hamlet
Oh, my prophetic soul! My uncle?
1.5.Sp18Ghost
Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wits, with traitorous gifts— Oh, wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce!—won to his shameful lust The will of my most seeming virtuous queen. Oh, Hamlet, what falling off was there! From me, whose love was of that dignity That it went hand in hand even with the vow I made to her in marriage, and to decline Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor To those of mine. But virtue, as it never will be moved, Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, So but though to a radiant angel linked, Will sort itself in a celestial bed And prey on garbage. But soft, methinks I scent the morning air. Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, My custom always of the afternoon, Upon my secure hour, thy uncle stole With juice of cursèd hebona in a vial, And in the porches of my ears did pour The lep’rous distillment, whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man That swift as quicksilver it courses through The natural gates and alleys of the body, And with a sudden vigor it doth possess And curd like eager droppings into milk The thin and wholesome blood; so did it mine, And a most instant tetter barked about Most lazarlike with vile and loathsome crust All my smooth body. Thus was I sleeping by a brother’s hand Of life, of crown, of queen at once dispatched, Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, Unhousled, disappointed, unaneled, No reck’ning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head. Oh, horrible, oh, horrible, most horrible! If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not. Let not the royal bed of Denmark be A couch for luxury and damnèd incest. But howsomever thou pursues this act, Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught; leave her to heaven And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once. The glow-worm shows the matin to be near And ’gins to pale his uneffectual fire. Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me.
Exit.
1.5.Sp19Hamlet
O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else? And shall I couple hell? Oh, fie! Hold, hold, my heart, And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, But bear me swiftly up. Remember thee? Ay, thou poor ghost, whiles memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee? Yea, from the table of my memory I’ll wipe away all trivial fond records, All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past That youth and observation copied there, And thy commandment all alone shall live Within the book and volume of my brain, Unmixed with baser matter. Yes, by heaven. Oh, most pernicious woman! Oh, villain, villain, smiling damnèd villain! My tables—meet it is I set it down That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain. At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark. So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word. It is "Adieu, adieu, remember me." I have sworn’t.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus
1.5.Sp20Horatio
My lord, my lord!
1.5.Sp21Marcellus
Lord Hamlet!
1.5.Sp22Horatio
Heavens secure him!
1.5.Sp23Hamlet
So be it.
1.5.Sp24Marcellus
Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
1.5.Sp25Hamlet
Hillo, ho, ho, boy, come, and come!
1.5.Sp26Marcellus
How is’t, my noble lord?
1.5.Sp27Horatio
What news, my lord?
1.5.Sp28Hamlet
Oh, wonderful!
1.5.Sp29Horatio
Good my lord, tell it.
1.5.Sp30Hamlet
No, you will reveal it.
1.5.Sp31Horatio
Not I, my lord, by heaven.
1.5.Sp32Marcellus
Nor I, my lord.
1.5.Sp33Hamlet
How say you then, would heart of man once think it— But you’ll be secret?
1.5.Sp34Both
Ay, by heaven.
1.5.Sp35Hamlet
There’s never a villaindwelling in all Denmark But he’s an arrant knave.
1.5.Sp36Horatio
There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave To tell us this.
1.5.Sp37Hamlet
Why, right, you are in the right. And so, without more circumstance at all I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: You as your business and desire shall point you (For every man hath business and desire, Such as it is), and for my own poor part I will go pray.
1.5.Sp38Horatio
These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.
1.5.Sp39Hamlet
I am sorry they offend you—heartily, Yes, faith, heartily.
1.5.Sp40Horatio
There’s no offense, my lord.
1.5.Sp41Hamlet
Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, And much offense too. Touching this vision here, It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you. For your desire to know what is between us, O’ermaster it as you may. And now, good friends, As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers, Give me one poor request.
1.5.Sp42Horatio
What is’t, my lord? We will.
1.5.Sp43Hamlet
Never make known what you have seen tonight.
1.5.Sp44Both
My lord, we will not.
1.5.Sp45Hamlet
Nay, but swear’t.
1.5.Sp46Horatio
In faith, my lord, not I.
1.5.Sp47Marcellus
Nor I, my lord, in faith.
1.5.Sp48Hamlet
Upon my sword.
He holds out his sword.
1.5.Sp49Marcellus
We have sworn, my lord, already.
1.5.Sp50Hamlet
Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.
Ghost cries under the stage.
1.5.Sp51Ghost
Swear.
1.5.Sp52Hamlet
Ha, ha, boy, say’st thou so? Art thou there, truepenny?— Come on, you hear this fellow in the cellarage. Consent to swear.
1.5.Sp53Horatio
Propose the oath, my lord.
1.5.Sp54Hamlet
Never to speak of this that you have seen. Swear by my sword.
1.5.Sp55Ghost
Swear.
They swear.
1.5.Sp56Hamlet
Hic et ubique? Then we’ll shift our ground. He moves them to another spot. Come hither, gentlemen, And lay your hands again upon my sword. Swear by my sword Never to speak of this that you have heard.
1.5.Sp57Ghost
Swear by his sword.
They swear.
1.5.Sp58Hamlet
Well said, old mole. Canst work i’th’ earth so fast? A worthy pioneer!—Once more remove, good friends.
They move once more.
1.5.Sp59Horatio
Oh, day and night, but this is wondrous strange.
1.5.Sp60Hamlet
And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come, Here as before: never, so help you mercy, How strange or odd some’er I bear myself (As I perchance hereafter shall think meet To put an antic disposition on), That you at such times seeing me never shall, With arms encumbered thus, or this headshake, Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase As, "Well, well, we know," or "We could an if we would," Or "If we list to speak," or "There be, an if they might," Or such ambiguous giving out, to note That you know aught of me. This do swear, So grace and mercy at your most need help you.
1.5.Sp61Ghost
Swear.
They swear.
1.5.Sp62Hamlet
Rest, rest, perturbèd spirit.—So, gentlemen, With all my love I do commend me to you, And what so poor a man as Hamlet is May do t’express his love and friending to you, God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together, And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. The time is out of joint. Oh, cursèd spite, That ever I was born to set it right! They wait for him to leave first. Nay, come, let’s go together.
Exeunt.

2.1

Enter old Polonius, with his man Reynaldo or two.
2.1.Sp1Polonius
Give him this money, and these notes, Reynaldo.
He gives money and papers.
2.1.Sp2Reynaldo
I will, my lord.
2.1.Sp3Polonius
You shall do marv’lous wisely, good Reynaldo, Before you visit him, to make inquire Of his behavior.
2.1.Sp4Reynaldo
My lord, I did intend it.
2.1.Sp5Polonius
Marry, well said, very well said. Look you, sir, Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris, And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, What company, at what expense; and finding By this encompassment and drift of question That they do know my son, come you more nearer Than your particular demands will touch it; Take you, as ’twere, some distant knowledge of him, As thus: "I know his father, and his friends, And in part him." Do you mark this, Reynaldo?
2.1.Sp6Reynaldo
Ay, very well, my lord.
2.1.Sp7Polonius
"And in part him. But," you may say, "not well, But if’t be he I mean, he’s very wild, Addicted so and so," and there put on him What forgeries you please—marry, none so rank As may dishonor him, take heed of that, But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips As are companions noted and most known To youth and liberty.
2.1.Sp8Reynaldo
As gaming, my lord.
2.1.Sp9Polonius
Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, Quarreling, drabbing—you may go so far.
2.1.Sp10Reynaldo
My lord, that would dishonor him.
2.1.Sp11Polonius
Faith, as you may season it in the charge. You must not put another scandal on him That he is open to incontinency; That’s not my meaning. But breathe his faults so quaintly That they may seem the taints of liberty, The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, A savageness in unreclaimèd blood, Of general assault.
2.1.Sp12Reynaldo
But, my good lord—
2.1.Sp13Polonius
Wherefore should you do this?
2.1.Sp14Reynaldo
Ay, my lord, I would know that.
2.1.Sp15Polonius
Marry sir, here’s my drift, And I believe it is a fetch of wit. You laying these slight sallies on my son As ’twere a thing a little soiled with working, Mark you, your party in converse, him you would sound, Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured He closes with you in this consequence: "Good sir" (or so), or "friend," or "gentleman," According to the phrase, or the addition Of man and country.
2.1.Sp16Reynaldo
Very good, my lord.
2.1.Sp17Polonius
And then, sir, does ’a this, ’a does—what was I about to say? By the mass, I was about to say something. Where did I leave?
2.1.Sp18Reynaldo
At "closes in the consequence."
2.1.Sp19Polonius
At "closes in the consequence." Ay, marry, He closes thus: "I know the gentleman, I saw him yesterday"—or th’other day, Or then, or then—"with such or such, and as you say, There was ’a gaming there, or took in’s rouse, There falling out at tennis," or perchance "I saw him enter such a house of sale," Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. See you now, Your bait of falsehood take this carp of truth, And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, With windlasses and with assays of bias, By indirections find directions out; So by my former lecture and advice Shall you my son. You have me, have you not?
2.1.Sp20Reynaldo
My lord, I have.
2.1.Sp21Polonius
God buy ye, fare ye well.
2.1.Sp22Reynaldo
Good my lord.
2.1.Sp23Polonius
Observe his inclination in yourself.
2.1.Sp24Reynaldo
I shall, my lord.
2.1.Sp25Polonius
And let him ply his music.
2.1.Sp26Reynaldo
Well, my lord.
Exit Reynaldo. Enter Ophelia.
2.1.Sp27Polonius
Farewell.—How now, Ophelia, what’s the matter?
2.1.Sp28Ophelia
Oh, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!
2.1.Sp29Polonius
With what, i’th’ name of God?
2.1.Sp30Ophelia
My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced, No hat upon his head, his stockings fouled, Ungartered, and down-gyvèd to his ankle, Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosèd out of hell To speak of horrors, he comes before me.
2.1.Sp31Polonius
Mad for thy love?
2.1.Sp32Ophelia
My lord, I do not know, But truly I do fear it.
2.1.Sp33Polonius
What said he?
2.1.Sp34Ophelia
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 ’a would draw it. Long stayed he so. At last, a little shaking of mine arm, And thrice his head thus waving up and down, He raised a sigh so piteous and profound As it did seem to shatter all his bulk And end his being. That done, he lets me go, And with his head over his shoulder turned He seemed to find his way without his eyes, For out o’ doors he went without their helps, And to the last bended their light on me.
2.1.Sp35Polonius
Come, go with me. I will go seek the King. This is the very ecstasy of love, Whose violent property fordoes itself And leads the will to desperate undertakings As oft as any passions under heaven That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. What, have you given him any hard words of late?
2.1.Sp36Ophelia
No, my good lord, but as you did command I did repel his letters, and denied His access to me.
2.1.Sp37Polonius
That hath made him mad. I am sorry that with better heed and judgment I had not coted him. I feared he did but trifle And meant to wrack thee; but beshrew my jealousy! By heaven, it is as proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions As it is common for the younger sort To lack discretion. Come, go we to the King. This must be known, which, being kept close, might move More grief to hide than hate to utter love. Come.
Exeunt.

2.2

Flourish. Enter King and Queen, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern and other Courtiers.
2.2.Sp1King
Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Moreover that we much did long to see you, The need we have to use you did provoke Our hasty sending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet’s transformation—so call it, Sith nor th’exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was. What it should be, More than his father’s death, that thus hath put him So much from th’understanding of himself, I cannot dream of. I entreat you both That, being of so young days brought up with him, And sith so neighbored to his youth and havior, That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time, so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather So much as from occasion you may glean, Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus That, opened, lies within our remedy.
2.2.Sp2Queen
Good gentlemen, he hath much talked of you, And sure I am two men there is not living To whom he more adheres. If it will please you To show us so much gentry and good will As to expend your time with us awhile For the supply and profit of our hope, Your visitation shall receive such thanks As fits a king’s remembrance.
2.2.Sp3Rosencrantz
Both your majesties Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty.
2.2.Sp4Guildenstern
But we both obey, And here give up ourselves in the full bent To lay our service freely at your feet To be commanded.
2.2.Sp5King
Thanks, Rosencrantz, and gentle Guildenstern.
2.2.Sp6Queen
Thanks, Guildenstern, and gentle Rosencrantz. And I beseech you instantly to visit My too-much-changèd son.—Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
2.2.Sp7Guildenstern
Heavens make our presence and our practices Pleasant and helpful to him!
2.2.Sp8Queen
Ay, amen.
Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern and other Courtiers. Enter Polonius.
2.2.Sp9Polonius
Th’ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, Are joyfully returned.
2.2.Sp10King
Thou still hast been the father of good news.
2.2.Sp11Polonius
Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege, I hold my duty as I hold my soul, Both to my God and to my gracious king; And I do think—or else this brain of mine Hunts not the trail of policy so sure As it hath used to do—that I have found The very cause of Hamlet’s lunacy.
2.2.Sp12King
Oh, speak of that! That do I long to hear.
2.2.Sp13Polonius
Give first admittance to th’ambassadors. My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.
2.2.Sp14King
Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. Polonius goes to bring in the ambassadors. He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found The head and source of all your son’s distemper.
2.2.Sp15Queen
I doubt it is no other but the main: His father’s death, and our hasty marriage.
Enter Ambassadors Voltemand and Cornelius, ushered in by Polonius.
2.2.Sp16King
Well, we shall sift him.—Welcome, my good friends. Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway?
2.2.Sp17Voltemand
Most fair return of greetings and desires. Upon our first, he sent out to suppress His nephew’s levies, which to him appeared To be a preparation ’gainst the Polack, But, better looked into, he truly found It was against your highness; whereat grieved That so his sickness, age, and impotence Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests On Fortinbras, which he in brief obeys, Receives rebuke from Norway, and, in fine, Makes vow before his uncle never more To give th’assay of arms against your majesty. Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy, Gives him threescore thousand crowns in annual fee And his commission to employ those soldiers So levied (as before) against the Polack, With an entreaty herein further shown Giving a letter to the King That it might please you to give quiet pass Through your dominions for this enterprise On such regards of safety and allowance As therein are set down.
2.2.Sp18King
It likes us well, And at our more considered time we’ll read, Answer, and think upon this business. Meantime, we thank you for your well-took labor. Go to your rest. At night we’ll feast together. Most welcome home!
Exeunt Ambassadors.
2.2.Sp19Polonius
This business is well ended. My liege and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time. Therefore, 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.
2.2.Sp20Queen
More matter with less art.
2.2.Sp21Polonius
Madam, I swear I use no art at all. That he’s mad, ’tis true. ’Tis true ’tis pity, And pity ’tis ’tis true—a foolish figure, But farewell it, for I will use no art. Mad let us grant him, then. And now remains That we find out the cause of this effect, Or rather say the cause of this defect, For this effect defective comes by cause. Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend. I have a daughter—have while she is mine— Who in her duty and obedience, mark, Hath given me this. Now gather and surmise.
He reads from the letter.
“To the celestial and my soul’s idol, the most beautified Ophelia.” That’s an ill phrase, a vile phrase; “beautified” is a vile phrase. But you shall hear. Thus: “In her excellent white bosom, these, etc.”
2.2.Sp22Queen
Came this from Hamlet to her?
2.2.Sp23Polonius
Good madam, stay awhile, I will be faithful. ( He reads the letter.) “Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love.”
“O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers. I have not art to reckon my groans. But that I love thee best, oh, most best, believe it. Adieu. Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him. Hamlet.”
This in obedience hath my daughter shown me, And more about hath his solicitings, As they fell out, by time, by means, and place, All given to mine ear.
2.2.Sp24King
But how hath she received his love?
2.2.Sp25Polonius
What do you think of me?
2.2.Sp26King
As of a man faithful and honorable.
2.2.Sp27Polonius
I would fain prove so. But what might you think, When I had seen this hot love on the wing— As I perceived it (I must tell you that) Before my daughter told me—what might you, Or my dear majesty your queen here, think If I had played the desk or table-book, Or given my heart a working, mute and dumb, Or looked upon this love with idle sight, What might you think? No, I went round to work, And my young mistress thus I did bespeak: "Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy star. This must not be." And then I prescripts gave her That she should lock herself from her resort, Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. Which done, she took the fruits of my advice, And he, repellèd, a short tale to make, Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, Thence to lightness, and by this declension Into the madness wherein now he raves, And all we mourn for.
2.2.Sp28King
"/ To Queen Do you think this?
2.2.Sp29Queen
It may be, very like.
2.2.Sp30Polonius
Hath there been such a time—I would fain know that— That I have positively said ’Tis so" When it proved otherwise?
2.2.Sp31King
Not that I know.
2.2.Sp32Polonius
Take this from this, if this be otherwise. If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the center.
2.2.Sp33King
How may we try it further?
2.2.Sp34Polonius
You know sometimes he walks four hours together Here in the lobby.
2.2.Sp35Queen
So he does indeed.
2.2.Sp36Polonius
At such a time, I’ll loose my daughter to him. Be you and I behind an arras then; Mark the encounter. If he love her not, And be not from his reason fall’n thereon, Let me be no assistant for a state But keep a farm and carters.
2.2.Sp37King
We will try it.
Enter Hamlet.
2.2.Sp38Queen
But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.
2.2.Sp39Polonius
Away, I do beseech you both away. (Exit King and Queen.) I’ll board him presently. Oh, give me leave.— How does my good Lord Hamlet?
2.2.Sp40Hamlet
Well, God-a-mercy.
2.2.Sp41Polonius
Do you know me, my lord?
2.2.Sp42Hamlet
Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.
2.2.Sp43Polonius
Not I, my lord.
2.2.Sp44Hamlet
Then I would you were so honest a man.
2.2.Sp45Polonius
Honest, my lord?
2.2.Sp46Hamlet
Ay, sir, to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
2.2.Sp47Polonius
That’s very true, my lord.
2.2.Sp48Hamlet
For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a good kissing carrion—Have you a daughter?
2.2.Sp49Polonius
I have, my lord.
2.2.Sp50Hamlet
Let her not walk i’th’sun. Conception is a blessing, but as your daughter may conceive, friend, look to’t.
2.2.Sp51Polonius
Aside How say you by that? Still harping on my daughter. Yet he knew me not at first. ’A said I was a fishmonger. ’A is far gone, and truly, in my youth I suffered much extremity for love, very near this. I’ll speak to him again.—What do you read, my lord?
2.2.Sp52Hamlet
Words, words, words.
2.2.Sp53Polonius
What is the matter, my lord?
2.2.Sp54Hamlet
Between who?
2.2.Sp55Polonius
I mean the matter that you read, my lord.
2.2.Sp56Hamlet
Slanders, sir; for the satirical rogue says here that old men have gray beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and plumtree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams—all which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, shall grow old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward.
2.2.Sp57Polonius
Aside Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.—Will you walk out of the air, my lord?
2.2.Sp58Hamlet
Into my grave.
2.2.Sp59Polonius
Aside Indeed, that’s out of the air. How pregnant sometimes his replies are! A happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanctity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will leave him and my daughter.—My lord, I will take my leave of you.
2.2.Sp60Hamlet
You cannot take from me anything that I will not more willingly part withal—except my life, except my life, except my life.
Enter Guildenstern and Rosencrantz.
2.2.Sp61Polonius
Fare you well, my lord.
2.2.Sp62Hamlet
These tedious old fools!
2.2.Sp63Polonius
To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern You go to seek the Lord Hamlet? There he is.
2.2.Sp64Rosencrantz
To Polonius God save you, sir.
Exit Polonius.
2.2.Sp65Guildenstern
My honored lord!
2.2.Sp66Rosencrantz
My most dear lord!
2.2.Sp67Hamlet
My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do you both?
2.2.Sp68Rosencrantz
As the indifferent children of the earth.
2.2.Sp69Guildenstern
Happy in that we are not ever happy. On Fortune’s lap we are not the very button.
2.2.Sp70Hamlet
Nor the soles of her shoe?
2.2.Sp71Rosencrantz
Neither, my lord.
2.2.Sp72Hamlet
Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favors.
2.2.Sp73Guildenstern
Faith, her privates we.
2.2.Sp74Hamlet
In the secret parts of Fortune? Oh, most true, she is a strumpet. What news?
2.2.Sp75Rosencrantz
None, my lord, but the world’s grown honest.
2.2.Sp76Hamlet
Then is doomsday near. But your news is not true. But, in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore?
2.2.Sp77Rosencrantz
To visit you, my lord, no other occasion.
2.2.Sp78Hamlet
Beggar that I am, I am ever poor in thanks, but I thank you; and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, come, deal justly with me. Come, come, nay, speak.
2.2.Sp79Guildenstern
What should we say, my lord?
2.2.Sp80Hamlet
Anything but to th’ purpose. You were sent for, and there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not craft enough to color. I know the good King and Queen have sent for you.
2.2.Sp81Rosencrantz
To what end, my lord?
2.2.Sp82Hamlet
That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a better proposer can charge you withal, be even and direct with me whether you were sent for or no.
2.2.Sp83Rosencrantz
Aside to Guildenstern What say you?
2.2.Sp84Hamlet
Aside Nay, then, I have an eye of you.—If you love me, hold not off.
2.2.Sp85Guildenstern
My lord, we were sent for.
2.2.Sp86Hamlet
I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the King and Queen molt no feather. I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory. This most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. What piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving, how express and admirable in action, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a god; the beauty of the world; the paragon of animals. And yet to me what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me, nor women neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.
2.2.Sp87Rosencrantz
My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
2.2.Sp88Hamlet
Why did ye laugh, then, when I said man delights not me?
2.2.Sp89Rosencrantz
To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you. We coted them on the way, and hither are they coming to offer you service.
2.2.Sp90Hamlet
He that plays the King shall be welcome; his majesty shall have tribute on me. The Adventurous Knight shall use his foil and target, the Lover shall not sigh gratis, the Humorous Man shall end his part in peace, and the Lady shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt for’t. What players are they?
2.2.Sp91Rosencrantz
Even those you were wont to take such delight in, the tragedians of the city.
2.2.Sp92Hamlet
How chances it they travel? Their residence both in reputation and profit was better both ways.
2.2.Sp93Rosencrantz
I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation.
2.2.Sp94Hamlet
Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city? Are they so followed?
2.2.Sp95Rosencrantz
No, indeed, are they not.
2.2.Sp96Hamlet
It is not very strange, for my uncle is King of Denmark, and those that would make mouths at him while my father lived give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little. ’Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.
A flourish.
2.2.Sp97Guildenstern
There are the players.
2.2.Sp98Hamlet
Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, come, then. Th’appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony. Let me comply with you in this garb, lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you, must show fairly outwards, should more appear like entertainment than yours. You are welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
2.2.Sp99Guildenstern
In what, my dear lord?
2.2.Sp100Hamlet
I am but mad north-north-west; when the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand saw.
Enter Polonius.
2.2.Sp101Polonius
Well be with you, gentlemen.
2.2.Sp102Hamlet
Hark you, Guildenstern, and you too, at each ear a hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling clouts.
2.2.Sp103Rosencrantz
Happily he is the second time come to them, for they say an old man is twice a child.
2.2.Sp104Hamlet
I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players. Mark it.— You say right, sir, o’Monday morning, ’twas then indeed.
2.2.Sp105Polonius
My lord, I have news to tell you.
2.2.Sp106Hamlet
My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome—
2.2.Sp107Polonius
The actors are come hither, my lord.
2.2.Sp108Hamlet
Buzz, buzz.
2.2.Sp109Polonius
Upon my honor.
2.2.Sp110Hamlet
Then came each actor on his ass.
2.2.Sp111Polonius
The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, scene individable, or poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy nor Plautus too light for the law of writ and the liberty: these are the only men.
2.2.Sp112Hamlet
O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou?
2.2.Sp113Polonius
What a treasure had he, my lord?
2.2.Sp114Hamlet
Why,
One fair daughter and no more, The which he lovèd passing well.
2.2.Sp115Polonius
Aside Still on my daughter.
2.2.Sp116Hamlet
Am I not i’th’ right, old Jephthah?
2.2.Sp117Polonius
If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love passing well.
2.2.Sp118Hamlet
Nay, that follows not.
2.2.Sp119Polonius
What follows then, my lord?
2.2.Sp120Hamlet
Why,
“ As by lot, God wot,”
and then you know,
“ It came to pass, As most like it was.”
The first row of the pious chanson will show you more, for look where my abridgment comes.
Enter the Players.
2.2.Sp121Hamlet
You are welcome, masters, welcome all.—I am glad to see thee well. Welcome, good friends.—Oh, old friend, why, thy face is valanced since I saw thee last. Com’st thou to beard me in Denmark?— What, my young lady and mistress! By Lady, your ladyship is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the altitude of a chopine. Pray God your voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the ring.—Masters, you are all welcome. We’ll e’en to’t, like French falconers: fly at anything we see. We’ll have a speech straight. Come, give us a taste of your quality. Come, a passionate speech.
2.2.Sp122Player
What speech, my good lord?
2.2.Sp123Hamlet
I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was never acted, or if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleased not the million, ’twas caviary to the general. But it was, as I received it, and others whose judgments in such matters cried in the top of mine, an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much modesty as cunning. I remember one said there were no sallets in the lines, to make the matter savory, nor no matter in the phrase that might indict the author of affection, but called it an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine. One speech in’t I chiefly loved: ’twas Aeneas’ talk to Dido, and thereabout of it especially when he speaks of Priam’s slaughter. If it live in your memory, begin at this line—let me see, let me see—
The rugged Pyrrhus, like th’Hyrcanian beast—
’Tis not so, it begins with Pyrrhus.
The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, Black as his purpose, did the night resemble When he lay couchèd in th’ominous horse, Hath now this dread and black complexion smeared With heraldry more dismal head to foot; Now is he total gules, horridly tricked With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, Baked and empasted with the parching streets That lend a tyrannous and a damnèd light To their lord’s murder. Roasted in wrath and fire, And thus o’ersizèd with coagulate gore, With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus Old grandsire Priam seeks.
So proceed you.
2.2.Sp124Polonius
’Fore God, my Lord, well spoken, with good accent and good discretion.
2.2.Sp125Player
Anon he finds him, Striking too short at Greeks. His anticke sword, Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, Repugnant to command. Unequal matched, Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes wide, But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword Th’unnervèd father falls. Then senseless Ilium, Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash Takes prisoner Pyrrhus’ ear; for lo! his sword, Which was declining on the milky head Of reverent Priam, seemed i’th’ air to stick. So as a painted tyrant Pyrrhus stood, Like a neutral to his will and matter, Did nothing. But as we often see against some storm A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, The bold winds speechless, and the orb below As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder Doth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus’ pause, A rousèd vengeance sets him new a-work, And never did the Cyclops’ hammers fall On Mars’s armor forged for proof eterne With less remorse than Pyrrhus’ bleeding sword Now falls on Priam. Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune! All you gods In general synod take away her power, Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven As low as to the fiends!
2.2.Sp126Polonius
This is too long.
2.2.Sp127Hamlet
It shall to the barber’s with your beard.—Prithee, say on. He’s for a jig, or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps. Say on. Come to Hecuba.
2.2.Sp128Player
But who, ah, woe, had seen the moblèd queen—
2.2.Sp129Hamlet
The moblèd queen!
2.2.Sp130Polonius
That’s good.
2.2.Sp131Player
Run barefoot up and down, threat’ning the flames With bisson rheum, a clout upon that head Where late the diadem stood, and, for a robe, About her lank and all-o’erteemèd loins A blanket in the alarm of fear caught up— Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steeped ’Gainst Fortune’s state would treason have pronounced; But if the gods themselves did see her then, When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport In mincing with his sword her husband limbs, The instant burst of clamor that she made, Unless things mortal move them not at all, Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven And passion in the gods.
2.2.Sp132Polonius
Look where he has not turned his color, and has tears in’s eyes. Prithee, no more.
2.2.Sp133Hamlet
’Tis well. I’ll have thee speak out the rest of this soon. To Polonius 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.
2.2.Sp134Polonius
My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
2.2.Sp135Hamlet
God’s bodkin, man, much better. Use every man after his desert and who shall scape whipping? Use them after your own honor and dignity; the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
2.2.Sp136Polonius
Come, sirs.
2.2.Sp137Hamlet
Follow him, friends. We’ll hear a play tomorrow. Aside to the First Player Dost thou hear me, old friend, can you play "The Murder of Gonzago"?
2.2.Sp138 First Player
Ay, my lord.
2.2.Sp139Hamlet
We’ll ha’t tomorrow night. You could for need study a speech of some dozen lines or sixteen lines, which I would set down and insert in’t, could you not?
2.2.Sp140 First Player
Ay, my lord.
2.2.Sp141Hamlet
Very well. Follow that lord, and look you mock him not. —My good friends, I’ll leave you till night. You are welcome to Elsinore.
Exeunt Polonius and Players.
2.2.Sp142Rosencrantz
Good my lord.
Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
2.2.Sp143Hamlet
Ay, so, God buy to you.—Now I am alone. Oh, 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 the visage wanned, Tears in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit, and all for nothing, For Hecuba. What’s Hecuba to him, or he to her, That he should weep for her? What would he do Had he the motive and that 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, unpregnant of my cause, And can say nothing; no, not for a king Upon whose property and most dear life A damned defeat was made. Am I a coward? Who calls me villain? Breaks my pate across? Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face? Tweaks me by the nose? Gives me the lie i’th’ throat As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this, Ha? ’Swounds, I should take it; for it cannot be But I am pigeon-livered, and lack gall To make oppression bitter, or ere this I should ha’ fatted all the region kites With this slave’s offal. Bloody, bawdy villain! Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, That I, the son of a dear murderèd, Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must like a whore unpack my heart with words, And fall a-cursing like a very drab, a stallion. Fie upon’t, foh! About, my brains! Hum, I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaimed their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. I’ll have these players Play something like the murder of my father Before mine uncle. I’ll observe his looks; I’ll tent him to the quick. If ’a do blench I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be a de’il, and the de’il hath power T’assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps, Out of my weakness and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such spirits, Abuses me to damn me. I’ll have grounds More relative than this. The play’s the thing Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the King.
Exit.

3.1

Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, Lords.
3.1.Sp1King
And can you by no drift of conference Get from him why he puts on this confusion, Grating so harshly all his days of quiet With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
3.1.Sp2Rosencrantz
He does confess he feels himself distracted, But from what cause, ’a will by no means speak.
3.1.Sp3Guildenstern
Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, But with a crafty madness keeps aloof When we would bring him on to some confession Of his true state.
3.1.Sp4Queen
Did he receive you well?
3.1.Sp5Rosencrantz
Most like a gentleman.
3.1.Sp6Guildenstern
But with much forcing of his disposition.
3.1.Sp7Rosencrantz
Niggard of question, but of our demands Most free in his reply.
3.1.Sp8Queen
Did you assay him to any pastime?
3.1.Sp9Rosencrantz
Madam, it so fell out that certain players We o’erraught on the way. Of these we told him, And there did seem in him a kind of joy To hear of it. They are here about the court, And, as I think, they have already order This night to play before him.
3.1.Sp10Polonius
’Tis most true, And he beseeched me to entreat your majesties To hear and see the matter.
3.1.Sp11King
With all my heart,and it doth much content me To hear him so inclined. Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, And drive his purpose into these delights.
3.1.Sp12Rosencrantz
We shall, my lord.
Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern and Lords.
3.1.Sp13King
Sweet Gertrard, leave us two, For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither, That he, as ’twere by accident, may here Affront Ophelia. Her father and myself, We’ll so bestow ourselves that, seeing unseen, We may of their encounter frankly judge, And gather by him, as he is behaved, If’t be th’affliction of his love or no That thus he suffers for.
3.1.Sp14Queen
I shall obey you. And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish That your good beauties be the happy cause Of Hamlet’s wildness. So shall I hope your virtues Will bring him to his wonted way again, To both your honors.
3.1.Sp15Ophelia
Madam, I wish it may.
Exit Queen.
3.1.Sp16Polonius
Ophelia, walk you here.—Gracious, so please you, We will bestow ourselves. To Ophelia, as he gives her a book Read on this book, That show of such an exercise may color Your lowliness. We are oft too blame in this, ’Tis too much proved, that with devotion’s visage And pious action we do sugar o’er The devil himself.
3.1.Sp17King
Aside Oh, ’tis too true! How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience! The harlot’s cheek, beautied with plast’ring art, Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it Than is my deed to my most painted word. Oh, heavy burden!
Enter Hamlet.
3.1.Sp18Polonius
I hear him coming. Withdraw, my lord.
The King and Polonius conceal themselves.
3.1.Sp19Hamlet
To be, or not to be, that is the question, Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep— No more—and by a sleep to say we end The heartache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to; ’tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep; To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there’s the rub, For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil Must give us pause. There’s the respect That makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, Th’oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of th’unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country from whose bourn No traveler returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of. Thus conscience does make cowards, And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pitch and moment With this regard their currents turn awry And lose the name of action. Soft you now, The fair Ophelia!—Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remembered.
3.1.Sp20Ophelia
Good my lord, How does your honor for this many a day?
3.1.Sp21Hamlet
I humbly thank you well.
3.1.Sp22Ophelia
My lord, I have remembrances of yours That I have longèd long to redeliver. I pray you now receive them.
3.1.Sp23Hamlet
No, not I. I never gave you aught.
3.1.Sp24Ophelia
My honored lord, you know right well you did, And with them words of so sweet breath composed As made these 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.
She offers Hamlet the remembrances.
3.1.Sp25Hamlet
Ha, ha! Are you honest?
3.1.Sp26Ophelia
My lord?
3.1.Sp27Hamlet
Are you fair?
3.1.Sp28Ophelia
What means your lordship?
3.1.Sp29Hamlet
That if you be honest and fair, you should admit no discourse to your beauty.
3.1.Sp30Ophelia
Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?
3.1.Sp31Hamlet
Ay, truly, for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness. This was sometime a paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.
3.1.Sp32Ophelia
Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
3.1.Sp33Hamlet
You should not have believed me, for virtue cannot so evocutate our old stock but we shall relish of it. I loved you not.
3.1.Sp34Ophelia
I was the more deceived.
3.1.Sp35Hamlet
Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offenses at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where’s your father?
3.1.Sp36Ophelia
At home, my lord.
3.1.Sp37Hamlet
Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool nowhere but in’s own house. Farewell.
3.1.Sp38Ophelia
Oh, help him, you sweet heavens!
3.1.Sp39Hamlet
If thou dost marry, I’ll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, farewell. Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool, for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery go, and quickly too. Farewell.
3.1.Sp40Ophelia
Heavenly powers restore him!
3.1.Sp41Hamlet
I have heard of your paintings well enough. God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig and amble, and you lisp, you nickname God’s creatures, and make your wantonness ignorance. Go to, I’ll no more on’t; it hath made me mad. I say we will have no mo marriage. Those that are married already, all but one, shall live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go.
Exit.
3.1.Sp42Ophelia
Oh, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown! The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye, tongue, sword, Th’expectation and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mold of form, Th’observed of all observers, quite, quite down, And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That sucked the honey of his musicked vows, Now see what noble and most sovereign reason Like sweet bells jangled out of time, and harsh, That unmatched form and stature of blown youth Blasted with ecstasy. Oh, woe is me T’have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
Enter King and Polonius stepping forward from concealment.
3.1.Sp43King
Love? His affections do not that way tend, Nor what he spake, though it lacked form a little, Was not like madness. There’s something in his soul O’er which his melancholy sits on brood, And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose Will be some danger; which for to prevent, I have in quick determination Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England, For the demand of our neglected tribute. Haply the seas, and countries different, With variable objects, shall expel This something-settled matter in his heart, Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus From fashion of himself. What think you on’t?
3.1.Sp44Polonius
It shall do well. But yet do I believe the origin and commencement of his grief Sprung from neglected love.—How now, Ophelia? You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said, We heard it all.—My lord, do as you please, But if you hold it fit, after the play Let his queen-mother all alone entreat him To show his grief. Let her be round with him, And I’ll be placed (so please you) in the ear Of all their conference. If she find him not, To England send him, or confine him where Your wisdom best shall think.
3.1.Sp45King
It shall be so; Madness in great ones must not unmatched go.
Exeunt.

3.2

Enter Hamlet, and three of the Players.
3.2.Sp1Hamlet
Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. Oh, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellowtear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o’erdoing Termagant. It out-Herods Herod. Pray you avoid it.
3.2.Sp2Player
I warrant your honor.
3.2.Sp3Hamlet
Be not too tame, neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action, with this special observance, that you o’erstep not the modesty of nature. For anything so o’erdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is to hold as ’twere the mirror up to nature, to show virtue her feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though it makes the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve, the censure of which one must in your allowance o’erweigh a whole theater of others. Oh, there be players that I have seen play, and heard others praised, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that, neither having th’accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature’s journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abhominably.
3.2.Sp4Player
I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us.
3.2.Sp5Hamlet
Oh, reform it altogether. And let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too, though in the meantime some necessary question of the play be then to be considered. That’s villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go make you ready. Exeunt Players. To Polonius How now, my lord, will the King hear this piece of work?
Enter Polonius, Guildenstern, and Rosencrantz.
3.2.Sp6Polonius
And the Queen too, and that presently.
3.2.Sp7Hamlet
Bid the players make haste. Exit Polonius. Will you two help to hasten them?
3.2.Sp8Rosencrantz
Ay, my lord.
Exeunt they two.
3.2.Sp9Hamlet
What ho, Horatio!
Enter Horatio.
3.2.Sp10Horatio
Here, sweet lord, at your service.
3.2.Sp11Hamlet
Horatio, thou art e’en as just a man As e’er my conversation coped withal.
3.2.Sp12Horatio
Oh, my dear lord—
3.2.Sp13Hamlet
Nay, do not think I flatter, For what advancement may I hope from thee That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered? No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice And could of men distinguish her election, Sh’hath sealed thee for herself, for thou hast been As one in suff’ring all that suffers nothing, A man that Fortune’s buffets and rewards Hast ta’en with equal thanks; and blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commeddled That they are not a pipe for Fortune’s finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him In my heart’s core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee.—Something too much of this.— There is a play tonight before the King. One scene of it comes near the circumstance Which I have told thee of my father’s death. I prithee, when thou see’st that act afoot, Even with the very comment of thy soul Observe my uncle. If his occulted guilt Do not itself unkennel in one speech, It is a damnèd ghost that we have seen, And my imaginations are as foul As Vulcan’s stithy. Give him heedful note, For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, And after we will both our judgments join In censure of his seeming.
3.2.Sp14Horatio
Well, my lord, If ’a steal aught the whilst this play is playing And scape detected, I will pay the theft.
Enter trumpets and kettledrums, King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and others.
3.2.Sp15Hamlet
They are coming to the play. I must be idle. Get you a place.
3.2.Sp16King
How fares our cousin Hamlet?
3.2.Sp17Hamlet
Excellent, i’faith, of the chameleon’s dish; I eat the air, promise-crammed. You cannot feed capons so.
3.2.Sp18King
I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet. These words are not mine.
3.2.Sp19Hamlet
No, nor mine now. To Polonius My lord, you played once i’th’ university, you say?
3.2.Sp20Polonius
That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.
3.2.Sp21Hamlet
What did you enact?
3.2.Sp22Polonius
I did enact Julius Caesar. I was killed i’th’Capitol. Brutus killed me.
3.2.Sp23Hamlet
It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there.— Be the players ready?
3.2.Sp24Rosencrantz
Ay, my lord, they stay upon your patience.
3.2.Sp25Queen
Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.
3.2.Sp26Hamlet
No, good mother, here’s mettle more attractive.
3.2.Sp27Polonius
To the King Oho, do you mark that?
3.2.Sp28Hamlet
To Ophelia, as he lies at her feet Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
3.2.Sp29Ophelia
No, my lord.
3.2.Sp30Hamlet
Do you think I meant country matters?
3.2.Sp31Ophelia
I think nothing, my lord.
3.2.Sp32Hamlet
That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs.
3.2.Sp33Ophelia
What is, my lord?
3.2.Sp34Hamlet
Nothing.
3.2.Sp35Ophelia
You are merry, my lord.
3.2.Sp36Hamlet
Who, I?
3.2.Sp37Ophelia
Ay, my lord.
3.2.Sp38Hamlet
Oh, God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within’s two hours.
3.2.Sp39Ophelia
Nay, ’tis twice two months, my lord.
3.2.Sp40Hamlet
So long? Nay, then, let the dev’l wear black, for I’ll have a suit of sables. Oh, 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, ’a must build churches then, or else shall ’a suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is, "For oh, for oh, the hobby-horse is forgot."
The trumpets sounds. Dumb-show follows. Enter Players as a King and a Queen, the Queen embracing him, and he her. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck. He lies him down upon a bank of flowers. She, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon come in another man, takes off his crown, kisses it, pours poison in the sleeper’s ears, and leaves him. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, makes passionate action. The poisoner, with some three or four, come in again, seem to condole with her. The dead body is carried away. The poisoner woos the Queen with gifts. She seems harsh awhile, but in the end accepts love. Exeunt players.
3.2.Sp41Ophelia
What means this, my lord?
3.2.Sp42Hamlet
Marry, this munching mallico, it means mischief.
3.2.Sp43Ophelia
Belike this show imports the argument of the play.
Enter a Player as Prologue.
3.2.Sp44Hamlet
We shall know by this fellow. The players cannot keep counsel; they’ll tell all.
3.2.Sp45Ophelia
Will ’a tell us what this show meant?
3.2.Sp46Hamlet
Ay, or any show that you will show him. Be not you ashamed to show, he’ll not shame to tell you what it means.
3.2.Sp47Ophelia
You are naught, you are naught. I’ll mark the play.
3.2.Sp48Prologue
For us and for our tragedy, Here stooping to your clemency, We beg your hearing patiently.
Exit.
3.2.Sp49Hamlet
Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?
3.2.Sp50Ophelia
’Tis brief, my lord.
3.2.Sp51Hamlet
As woman’s love.
Enter two Players as King and Queen.
3.2.Sp52King
Full thirty times hath Phoebus’ cart gone round Neptune’s salt wash and Tellus orbed the ground, And thirty dozen moons with borrowed sheen About the world have times twelve thirties been Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands Unite commutual in most sacred bands.
3.2.Sp53Queen
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 our former state, That I distrust you. Yet though I distrust, Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must. For women fear too much, even as they love, And women’s fear and love hold quantity: Either none, in neither aught, or in extremity. Now what my lord is, proof hath made you know, And as my love is sized, my fear is so. Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
3.2.Sp54King
Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too; My operant powers their functions leave to do. And thou shalt live in this fair world behind, Honored, beloved; and haply one as kind For husband shalt thou—
3.2.Sp55Queen
Oh, confound the rest! Such love must needs be treason in my breast. In second husband let me be accurst! None wed the second but who killed the first.
3.2.Sp56Hamlet
That’s wormwood.
3.2.Sp57 Queen
The instances that second marriage move Are base respects of thrift, but none of love. A second time I kill my husband dead When second husband kisses me in bed.
3.2.Sp58King
I do believe you think what now you speak, But what we do determine, oft we break. Purpose is but the slave to memory, Of violent birth, but poor validity, Which now the fruit unripe sticks on the tree, But fall unshaken when they mellow be. Most necessary ’tis that we forget To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt. What to ourselves in passion we propose, The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. The violence of either grief or joy Their own enactures with themselves destroy. Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; Grief joy, joy grieves, on slender accident. This world is not for aye, nor ’tis not strange That even our loves should with our fortunes change; For ’tis a question left us yet to prove Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. The great man down, you mark his favorite flies; The poor advanced makes friends of enemies; And hitherto doth love on fortune tend, For who not needs shall never lack a friend, And who in want a hollow friend doth try Directly seasons him his enemy. But orderly to end where I begun, Our wills and fates do so contrary run That our devices still are overthrown; Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own; So, think thou wilt no second husband wed, But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.
3.2.Sp59Queen
Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light, Sport and repose lock from me day and night, To desperation turn my trust and hope, And anchor’s cheer in prison be my scope! Each opposite that blanks the face of joy Meet what I would have well, and it destroy! Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, If once I be a widow, ever I be a wife!
3.2.Sp60Hamlet
If she should break it now!
3.2.Sp61King
’Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile. My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile The tedious day with sleep.
3.2.Sp62Queen
Sleep rock thy brain, And never come mischance between us twain!
The Player King sleeps. Exit Player Queen.
3.2.Sp63Hamlet
Madam, how like you this play?
3.2.Sp64Queen
The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
3.2.Sp65Hamlet
Oh, but she’ll keep her word.
3.2.Sp66King
Have you heard the argument? Is there no offense in’t?
3.2.Sp67Hamlet
No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest, no offense i’th’ world.
3.2.Sp68King
What do you call the play?
3.2.Sp69Hamlet
The Mousetrap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna. Gonzago is the Duke’s name, his wife Baptista. You shall see anon. ’Tis a knavish piece of work, but what of that? Your majesty and we that have free souls, it touches us not. Let the galled jade winch, our withers are unwrung. —This is one Lucianus, nephew to the King.
Enter Lucianus.
3.2.Sp70Ophelia
You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
3.2.Sp71Hamlet
I could interpret between you and your love if I could see the puppets dallying.
3.2.Sp72Ophelia
You are keen, my lord, you are keen.
3.2.Sp73Hamlet
It would cost you a groaning to take off mine edge.
3.2.Sp74Ophelia
Still better and worse.
3.2.Sp75Hamlet
So you mistake your husbands.—Begin, murderer, leave thy damnable faces and begin. Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.
3.2.Sp76Lucianus
Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing, Considerate season, else no creature seeing, Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, With Hecate’s ban thrice blasted, thrice invected, Thy natural magic and dire property On wholesome life usurps immediately.
Pours the poison in his ears. Exit.
3.2.Sp77Hamlet
’A poisons him i’th’ garden for his estate. His name’s Gonzago. The story is extant, and written in very choice Italian. You shall see anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago’s wife.
3.2.Sp78Ophelia
The King rises.
3.2.Sp79Queen
How fares my lord?
3.2.Sp80Polonius
Give o’er the play.
3.2.Sp81King
Give me some light. Away!
3.2.Sp82Polonius
Lights, lights, lights!
Exeunt all but Hamlet and Horatio.
3.2.Sp83Hamlet
"Why, let the strucken deer go weep, The heart ungallèd play, For some must watch while some must sleep; Thus runs the world away."
Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers—if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me—with provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players?
3.2.Sp84Horatio
Half a share.
3.2.Sp85Hamlet
A whole one, I.
For thou dost know, O Damon dear, This realm dismantled was Of Jove himself, and now reigns here A very, very pajock.
3.2.Sp86Horatio
You might have rhymed.
3.2.Sp87Hamlet
O good Horatio, I’ll take the Ghost’s word for a thousand pound. Didst perceive?
3.2.Sp88Horatio
Very well, my lord.
3.2.Sp89Hamlet
Upon the talk of the pois’ning.
3.2.Sp90Horatio
I did very well note him.
3.2.Sp91Hamlet
Aha, come, some music! Come, the recorders.
For if the King like not the comedy, Why, then belike he likes it not, perdy.
Come, some music.
Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
3.2.Sp92Guildenstern
Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.
3.2.Sp93Hamlet
Sir a whole history.
3.2.Sp94Guildenstern
The King, sir—
3.2.Sp95Hamlet
Ay, sir, what of him?
3.2.Sp96Guildenstern
Is in his retirement marvelous distempered.
3.2.Sp97Hamlet
With drink, sir?
3.2.Sp98Guildenstern
No, my lord, with choler.
3.2.Sp99Hamlet
Your wisdom should show itself more richer to signify this to the doctor, for, for me to put him to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into more choler.
3.2.Sp100Guildenstern
Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and stare not so wildly from my affair.
3.2.Sp101Hamlet
I am tame sir. Pronounce.
3.2.Sp102Guildenstern
The Queen your mother, in most great affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you.
3.2.Sp103Hamlet
You are welcome.
3.2.Sp104Guildenstern
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 business.
3.2.Sp105Hamlet
Sir, I cannot.
3.2.Sp106Rosencrantz
What, my lord?
3.2.Sp107Hamlet
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.
3.2.Sp108Rosencrantz
Then thus she says: your behavior hath struck her into amazement and admiration.
3.2.Sp109Hamlet
Oh, wonderful son, that can so ’stonish a mother! But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother’s admiration? Impart.
3.2.Sp110Rosencrantz
She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed.
3.2.Sp111Hamlet
We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any further trade with us?
3.2.Sp112Rosencrantz
My lord, you once did love me.
3.2.Sp113Hamlet
And do still, by these pickers and stealers.
3.2.Sp114Rosencrantz
Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do surely bar the door upon your own liberty if you deny your griefs to your friend.
3.2.Sp115Hamlet
Sir, I lack advancement.
3.2.Sp116Rosencrantz
How can that be, when you have the voice of the King himself for your succession in Denmark?
Enter the Players, with recorders.
3.2.Sp117Hamlet
Ay, sir, but "while the grass grows"—the proverb is something musty.—Oh, the recorders. Let me see one. He takes a recorder. To withdraw with you, why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me into a toil?
3.2.Sp118Guildenstern
Oh, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.
3.2.Sp119Hamlet
I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?
3.2.Sp120Guildenstern
My lord, I cannot.
3.2.Sp121Hamlet
I pray you.
3.2.Sp122Guildenstern
Believe me, I cannot.
3.2.Sp123Hamlet
I do beseech you.
3.2.Sp124Guildenstern
I know no touch of it, my lord.
3.2.Sp125Hamlet
It is as easy as lying. Govern these ventages with your fingers and thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.
3.2.Sp126Guildenstern
But these cannot I command to any utt’rance of harmony. I have not the skill.
3.2.Sp127Hamlet
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 my compass, and there is much music, excellent voice in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. ’Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you fret me, you cannot play upon me. To Polonius, as he enters God bless you, sir.
Enter Polonius.
3.2.Sp128Polonius
My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently.
3.2.Sp129Hamlet
Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in shape of a camel?
3.2.Sp130Polonius
By th’mass, and ’tis like a camel indeed.
3.2.Sp131Hamlet
Methinks it is like a weasel.
3.2.Sp132Polonius
It is backed like a weasel.
3.2.Sp133Hamlet
Or like a whale.
3.2.Sp134Polonius
Very like a whale.
3.2.Sp135Hamlet
Then I will come to my mother by and by. Aside They fool me to the top of my bent. Aloud I will come by and by. Leave me, friends. I will, say so. "By and by" is easily said.
Exeunt all but Hamlet.
’Tis now the very witching time of night, When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breaks out Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood, And do such business as the bitter day Would quake to look on. Soft, now to my mother. O heart, loose not thy nature! Let not ever The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom. Let me be cruel, not unnatural; I will speak dagger to her, but use none. My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites: How in my words somever she be shent, To give them seals never my soul consent!
Exit.

3.3

Enter King, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.
3.3.Sp1King
I like him not, nor stands it safe with us To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you. I your commission will forthwith dispatch, And he to England shall along with you. The terms of our estate may not endure Hazard so near’s as doth hourly grow Out of his brows.
3.3.Sp2Guildenstern
We will ourselves provide. Most holy and religious fear it is To keep those many many bodies safe That live and feed upon your majesty.
3.3.Sp3Rosencrantz
The single and peculiar life is bound With all the strength and armor of the mind To keep itself from noyance, but much more That spirit upon whose weal depends and rests The lives of many. The cess of majesty Dies not alone, but like a gulf doth draw What’s near it with it, or it is a massy wheel Fixed on the summit of the highest mount, To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things Are mortised and adjoined, which, when it falls, Each small annexment, petty consequence, Attends the boist’rous ruin. Never alone Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.
3.3.Sp4King
Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage, For we will fetters put about this fear Which now goes too free-footed.
3.3.Sp5Rosencrantz
We will haste us.
Exeunt gentlemen Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Enter Polonius.
3.3.Sp6Polonius
My lord, he’s going to his mother’s closet. Behind the arras I’ll convey myself To hear the process. I’ll warrant she’ll tax him home. And, as you said—and wisely was it said— ’Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, Since nature makes them partial, should o’erhear The speech of vantage. Fare you well, my liege. I’ll call upon you ere you go to bed, And tell you what I know.
Exit Polonius.
3.3.Sp7King
Thanks, dear my lord. Oh, my offense is rank! It smells to heaven. It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t, A brother’s murder. Pray can I not, Though inclination be as sharp as will; My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent, And like a man to double business bound I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursèd hand Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood, Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy But to confront the visage of offense? And what’s in prayer but this twofold force, To be forestallèd ere we come to fall, Or pardoned being down? Then I’ll look up. My fault is past. But, oh, what form of prayer Can serve my turn? "Forgive me my foul murder"? That cannot be, since I am still possessed Of those effects for which I did the murder: My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. May one be pardoned and retain th’offense? In the corrupted currents of this world, Offense’s gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft ’tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law. But ’tis not so above: There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compelled, Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, To give in evidence. What then? What rests? Try what repentance can. What can it not? Yet what can it, when one cannot repent? O wretched state, O bosom black as death, O limèd soul, that, struggling to be free, Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay. Bow, stubborn knees, and heart with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe! All may be well.
He kneels. Enter Hamlet.
3.3.Sp8Hamlet
Now might I do it. But now ’a is a-praying, And now I’ll do’t. He draws his sword. And so ’a goes to heaven, And so am I revenged. That would be scanned: A villain kills my father, and for that, I, his sole son, do this same villain send To heaven. Why, this is base and silly, not revenge. ’A took my father grossly full of bread, With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May, And how his audit stands, who knows save heaven? But in our circumstance and course of thought ’Tis heavy with him. And am I then revenged To take him in the purging of his soul, When he is fit and seasoned for his passage? No. He sheathes his sword. Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent. When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage, Or in th’incestuous pleasure of his bed, At game a-swearing, or about some act That has no relish of salvation in’t, Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, And that his soul may be as damned and black As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays. This physic but prolongs thy sickly days.
Exit.
3.3.Sp9King
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below. Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
Exit.

3.4

Enter Gertrude and Polonius.
3.4.Sp1Polonius
’A will come straight. Look you lay home to him. Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with, And that your grace hath screened and stood between Much heat and him. I’ll silence me even here. Pray you, be round.
Enter Hamlet.
3.4.Sp2Queen
I’ll wait you. Fear me not. Withdraw; I hear him coming.
Polonius conceals himself behind the arras.
3.4.Sp3Hamlet
Now mother, what’s the matter?
3.4.Sp4Queen
Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.
3.4.Sp5Hamlet
Mother, you have my father much offended.
3.4.Sp6Queen
Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.
3.4.Sp7Hamlet
Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
3.4.Sp8Queen
Why, how now, Hamlet?
3.4.Sp9Hamlet
What’s the matter now?
3.4.Sp10Queen
Have you forgot me?
3.4.Sp11Hamlet
No, by the rood, not so. You are the queen, your husband’s brother’s wife, And, would it were not so, you are my mother.
3.4.Sp12Queen
Nay, then, I’ll set those to you that can speak.
3.4.Sp13Hamlet
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.
3.4.Sp14Queen
What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murder me? Help, ho!
3.4.Sp15Polonius
Behind the arras What ho! Help!
3.4.Sp16Hamlet
How now, a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead!
Hamlet thrusts through the arras with his sword and fatally stabs Polonius.
3.4.Sp17Polonius
Behind the arras Oh, I am slain!
3.4.Sp18Queen
Oh, me, what hast thou done?
3.4.Sp19Hamlet
Nay I know not. Is it the King?
3.4.Sp20Queen
Oh, what a rash and bloody deed is this!
3.4.Sp21Hamlet
A bloody deed—almost as bad, good mother, As kill a king, and marry with his brother.
3.4.Sp22Queen
As kill a king?
3.4.Sp23Hamlet
Ay, lady, it was my word. He parts the arras and discovers the dead Polonius. Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune. Thou find’st to be too busy is some danger. To the Queen Leave wringing of your hands. Peace, sit you down, And let me wring your heart, for so I shall If it be made of penetrable stuff, If damnèd custom have not brassed it so That it be proof and bulwark against sense.
3.4.Sp24Queen
What have I done, that thou dar’st wag thy tongue In noise so rude against me?
3.4.Sp25Hamlet
Such an act That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love And sets a blister there, makes marriage vows As false as dicers’ oaths—oh, such a deed As from the body of contraction plucks The very soul, and sweet religion makes A rhapsody of words. Heaven’s face does glow O’er this solidity and compound mass With heated visage, as against the doom, Is thought-sick at the act.
3.4.Sp26Queen
Ay me, what act, That roars so loud and thunders in the index?
3.4.Sp27Hamlet
Showing her two likenesses, of Hamlet senior and Claudius Look here upon this picture, and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. See what a grace was seated on this brow: Hyperion’s curls, the front of Jove himself, An eye like Mars to threaten and command, A station like the herald Mercury New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill, A combination and a form indeed Where every god did seem to set his seal To give the world assurance of a man. This was your husband. Look you now what follows: Here is your husband, like a mildewed ear, Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed And batten on this moor? Ha, have you eyes? You cannot call it love, for at your age The heyday in the blood is tame, it’s humble, And waits upon the judgment, and what judgment Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have, Else could you not have motion, but sure that sense Is apoplexed, for madness would not err, Nor sense to ecstasy was ne’er so thralled But it reserved some quantity of choice To serve in such a difference. What devil was’t That thus hath cozened you at hoodman-blind? Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, Or but a sickly part of one true sense Could not so mope. O shame, where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, If thou canst mutine in a matron’s bones, To flaming youth let virtue be as wax And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame When the compulsive ardor gives the charge, Since frost itself as actively doth burn, And reason pardons will.
3.4.Sp28Queen
Oh, Hamlet speak no more! Thou turn’st my very eyes into my soul, And there I see such black and grievèd spots As will leave there their tinct.
3.4.Sp29Hamlet
Nay, but to live In the rank sweat of an enseamèd bed Stewed in corruption, honeying and making love Over the nasty sty!
3.4.Sp30Queen
Oh, speak to me no more! These words like daggers enter in my ears. No more, sweet Hamlet.
3.4.Sp31Hamlet
A murderer and a villain, A slave that is not twentieth part the kith Of your precedent lord, a vice of kings, A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, That from a shelf the precious diadem stole And put it in his pocket—
3.4.Sp32Queen
No more!
Enter Ghost in his nightgown.
3.4.Sp33Hamlet
A king of shreds and patches— Seeing the Ghost Save me and hover o’er me with your wings, You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?
3.4.Sp34Queen
Alas, he’s mad!
3.4.Sp35Hamlet
Do you not come your tardy son to chide, That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by Th’important acting of your dread command? Oh, say!
3.4.Sp36Ghost
Do not forget. This visitation Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. But look, amazement on thy mother sits. Oh, step between her and her fighting soul! Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works. Speak to her, Hamlet.
3.4.Sp37Hamlet
How is it with you, lady?
3.4.Sp38Queen
Alas, how is’t with you, That you do bend your eye on vacancy, And with th’incorporal air do hold discourse? Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep, And, as the sleeping soldiers in th’alarm, Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, Start up and stand on end. O gentle son, Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?
3.4.Sp39Hamlet
On him, on him! Look you how pale he glares! His form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones, Would make them capable. To the Ghost Do not look upon me, Lest with this piteous action you convert My stern effects. Then what I have to do Will want true color, tears perchance for blood.
3.4.Sp40Queen
To whom do you speak this?
3.4.Sp41Hamlet
Do you see nothing there?
3.4.Sp42Queen
Nothing at all, yet all that is I see.
3.4.Sp43Hamlet
Nor did you nothing hear?
3.4.Sp44Queen
No, nothing but ourselves.
3.4.Sp45Hamlet
Why, look you there, look how it steals away! My father in his habit as he lived. Look where he goes, even now out at the portal!
Exit Ghost.
3.4.Sp46Queen
This is the very coinage of your brain. This bodiless creation ecstasy Is very cunning in.
3.4.Sp47Hamlet
My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music. It is not madness That I have uttered. Bring me to the test, And I the matter will reword, which madness Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul That not your trespass but my madness speaks. It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, Whiles rank corruption, mining all within, Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven, Repent what’s past, avoid what is to come, And do not spread the compost on the weeds To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue, For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.
3.4.Sp48Queen
Oh, Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
3.4.Sp49Hamlet
Oh, throw away the worser part of it, And leave the purer with the other half. Good night. But go not to my uncle’s bed; Assume a virtue if you have it not. That monster custom, who all sense doth eat, Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery That aptly is put on. Refrain tonight, And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence; the next more easy: For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either the devil, or throw him out With wondrous potency. Once more good night, And when you are desirous to be blest, I’ll blessing beg of you. For this same lord, I do repent; but heaven hath pleased it so To punish me with this, and this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister. I will bestow him, and will answer well The death I gave him. So, again, good night. I must be cruel only to be kind. This bad begins, and worse remains behind. One word more, good lady.
3.4.Sp50Queen
What shall I do?
3.4.Sp51Hamlet
Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: Let the bloat King tempt you again to bed, Pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his mouse, And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, Or paddling in your neck with his damned fingers, Make you to ravel all this matter out That I essentially am not in madness, But mad in craft. ’Twere good you let him know, For who that’s but a queen, fair, sober, wise, Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, Such dear concernings hide? Who would do so? No, in dispite of sense and secrecy, Unpeg the basket on the house’s top, Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape, To try conclusions, in the basket creep, And break your own neck down.
3.4.Sp52Queen
Be thou assured, if words be made of breath And breath of life, I have no life to breathe What thou hast said to me.
3.4.Sp53Hamlet
I must to England. You know that?
3.4.Sp54Queen
Alack, I had forgot. ’Tis so concluded on.
3.4.Sp55Hamlet
There’s letters sealed, and my two schoolfellows, Whom I will trust as I will adders fanged, They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way And marshal me to knavery. Let it work, For ’tis the sport to have the enginer Hoist with his own petard, and’t shall go hard But I will delve one yard below their mines, And blow them at the moon. Oh ’tis most sweet When in one line two crafts directly meet. This man shall set me packing. I’ll lug the guts into the neighbor room. Mother, good night indeed. This counselor Is now most still, most secret, and most grave, Who was in life a most foolish prating knave.— Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.— Good night, mother.
Exit.

4.1

Enter King, and Queen, with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
4.1.Sp1King
There’s matter in these sighs, these profound heaves. You must translate; ’tis fit we understand them. Where is your son?
4.1.Sp2Queen
To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Bestow this place on us a little while. Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Ah, mine own lord, what have I seen tonight!
4.1.Sp3King
What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?
4.1.Sp4Queen
Mad as the sea and wind when both contend Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit, Behind the arras hearing something stir, Whips out his rapier, cries, "A rat, a rat!" And in this brainish apprehension kills The unseen good old man.
4.1.Sp5King
Oh, heavy deed! It had been so with us had we been there. His liberty is full of threats to all— To you yourself, to us, to everyone. Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answered? It will be laid to us, whose providence Should have kept short, restrained, and out of haunt This mad young man. But so much was our love, We would not understand what was most fit, But like the owner of a foul disease, To keep it from divulging, let it feed Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone?
4.1.Sp6Queen
To draw apart the body he hath killed, O’er whom his very madness, like some ore Among a mineral of metals base, Shows itself pure: ’a weeps for what is done.
4.1.Sp7King
Oh, Gertrude, come away! The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch But we will ship him hence, and this vile deed We must with all our majesty and skill Both countenance and excuse.—Ho, Guildenstern! (Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.) Friends both, go join you with some further aid. Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, And from his mother’s closet hath he dragged him. Go seek him out, speak fair, and bring the body Into the chapel. I pray you haste in this. Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Come, Gertrude, we’ll call up our wisest friends And let them know both what we mean to do And what’s untimely done. Whose whisper o’er the world’s diameter, As level as the cannon to his blank, Transports his poisoned shot, may miss our name And hit the woundless air. Oh, come away! My soul is full of discord and dismay.
Exeunt.

4.2

Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, and others.
4.2.Sp1Hamlet
Safely stowed. But soft, what noise? Who calls on Hamlet? Oh, here they come.
4.2.Sp2Rosencrantz
What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?
4.2.Sp3Hamlet
Compounded it with dust, whereto ’tis kin.
4.2.Sp4Rosencrantz
Tell us where ’tis, that we may take it thence And bear it to the chapel.
4.2.Sp5Hamlet
Do not believe it.
4.2.Sp6Rosencrantz
Believe what?
4.2.Sp7Hamlet
That I can keep your counsel and not mine own. Besides, to be demanded of a sponge, what replication should be made by the son of a king?
4.2.Sp8Rosencrantz
Take you me for a sponge, my lord?
4.2.Sp9Hamlet
Ay, sir, that soaks up the King’s countenance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the King best service in the end: he keeps them, like an ape an apple in the corner of his jaw, first mouthed to be last swallowed. When he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.
4.2.Sp10Rosencrantz
I understand you not, my lord.
4.2.Sp11Hamlet
I am glad of it. A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.
4.2.Sp12Rosencrantz
My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the King.
4.2.Sp13Hamlet
The body is with the King, but the King is not with the body. The King is a thing.
4.2.Sp14Guildenstern
A thing, my lord?
4.2.Sp15Hamlet
Of nothing. Bring me to him.
Exeunt.

4.3

Enter King, and two or three.
4.3.Sp1King
I have sent to seek him and to find the body. How dangerous is it that this man goes loose! Yet must not we put the strong law on him; He’s loved of the distracted multitude, Who like not in their judgment but their eyes, And where ’tis so, th’offender’s scourge is weighed, But never the offense. To bear all smooth and even, This sudden sending him away must seem Deliberate pause. Diseases desperate grown By desperate appliance are relieved, Or not at all.
Enter Rosencrantz and all the rest.
4.3.Sp2King
How now, what hath befall’n?
4.3.Sp3Rosencrantz
Where the dead body is bestowed, my lord, We cannot get from him.
4.3.Sp4King
But where is he?
4.3.Sp5Rosencrantz
Without, my lord, guarded, to know your pleasure.
4.3.Sp6King
Bring him before us.
4.3.Sp7Rosencrantz
Calling Ho! Bring in the lord.
They Guildenstern and Guards enter with Hamlet.
4.3.Sp8King
Now Hamlet, where’s Polonius?
4.3.Sp9Hamlet
At supper.
4.3.Sp10King
At supper? Where?
4.3.Sp11Hamlet
Not where he eats, but where ’a is eaten. A certain convocation of politic worms are e’en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service: two dishes but to one table. That’s the end.
4.3.Sp12King
Alas, alas!
4.3.Sp13Hamlet
A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.
4.3.Sp14King
What dost thou mean by this?
4.3.Sp15Hamlet
Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar.
4.3.Sp16King
Where is Polonius?
4.3.Sp17Hamlet
In heaven. Send thither to see. If your messenger find him not there, seek him i’th’ other place yourself. But if indeed you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby.
4.3.Sp18King
To some attendants Go seek him there.
4.3.Sp19Hamlet
’A will stay till you come.
Exeunt attendants.
4.3.Sp20King
Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety— Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve For that which thou hast done—must send thee hence. Therefore prepare thyself. The bark is ready, and the wind at help, Th’associates tend, and everything is bent For England.
4.3.Sp21Hamlet
For England!
4.3.Sp22King
Ay, Hamlet.
4.3.Sp23Hamlet
Good.
4.3.Sp24King
So is it if thou knew’st our purposes.
4.3.Sp25Hamlet
I see a cherub that sees them. But come, for England! Farewell, dear mother.
4.3.Sp26King
Thy loving father, Hamlet.
4.3.Sp27Hamlet
My mother. Father and mother is man and wife, man and wife is one flesh, so, my mother. Come, for England!
Exit.
4.3.Sp28King
Follow him at foot. Tempt him with speed aboard. Delay it not. I’ll have him hence tonight. Away! For everything is sealed and done That else leans on th’affair. Pray you, make haste. Exeunt all but the King. And England, if my love thou hold’st at aught, As my great power thereof may give thee sense, Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red After the Danish sword, and thy free awe Pays homage to us, thou mayst not coldly set Our sovereign process, which imports at full By letters congruing to that effect The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England, For like the hectic in my blood he rages, And thou must cure me. Till I know ’tis done, Howe’er my haps, my joys will ne’er begin.
Exit.

4.4

Enter Fortinbras and a Captain with his army over the stage.
4.4.Sp1Fortinbras
Go, captain, from me greet the Danish King. Tell him that by his license Fortinbras Craves the conveyance of a promised march Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous. If that his majesty would aught with us, We shall express our duty in his eye; And let him know so.
4.4.Sp2Captain
I will do’t, my lord.
4.4.Sp3Fortinbras
To his soldiers Go softly on.
Exeunt all but the Captain. Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, etc.
4.4.Sp4Hamlet
To the Captain Good sir, whose powers are these?
4.4.Sp5Captain
They are of Norway, sir.
4.4.Sp6Hamlet
How purposed, sir, I pray you?
4.4.Sp7Captain
Against some part of Poland.
4.4.Sp8Hamlet
Who commands them, sir?
4.4.Sp9Captain
The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras.
4.4.Sp10Hamlet
Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, Or for some frontier?
4.4.Sp11Captain
Truly to speak, and with no addition, We go to gain a little patch of ground That hath in it no profit but the name. To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it, Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.
4.4.Sp12Hamlet
Why then the Polack never will defend it.
4.4.Sp13Captain
Yes, it is already garrisoned.
4.4.Sp14Hamlet
Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats Will not debate the question of this straw. This is th’impostume of much wealth and peace, That inward breaks, and shows no cause without Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir.
4.4.Sp15Captain
God buy you, sir.
Exit.
4.4.Sp16Rosencrantz
Will’t please you go, my lord?
4.4.Sp17Hamlet
I’ll be with you straight. Go a little before. Exeunt all but Hamlet. How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge! What is a man If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and godlike reason To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple Of thinking too precisely on th’event— A thought which, quartered, hath but one part wisdom And ever three parts coward—I do not know Why yet I live to say this thing’s to do, Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means To do’t. Examples gross as earth exhort me. Witness this army of such mass and charge, Led by a delicate and tender prince, Whose spirit with divine ambition puffed Makes mouths at the invisible event, Exposing what is mortal and unsure To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honor’s at the stake. How stand I, then, That have a father killed, a mother stained, Excitements of my reason and my blood, And let all sleep, while to my shame I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men That for a fantasy and trick of fame Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, Which is not tomb enough and continent To hide the slain? Oh, from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
Exit.

4.5

Enter Horatio, Queen Gertrude, and a Gentleman.
4.5.Sp1Queen
I will not speak with her.
4.5.Sp2Gentleman
She is importunate, Indeed, distract. Her mood will needs be pitied.
4.5.Sp3Queen
What would she have?
4.5.Sp4Gentleman
She speaks much of her father, says she hears There’s tricks i’th’ world, and hems, and beats her heart, Spurns enviously at straws, speaks things in doubt That carry but half sense. Her speech is nothing, Yet the unshapèd use of it doth move The hearers to collection; they yawn at it, And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts, Which, as her winks and nods and gestures yield them, Indeed would make one think there might be thought, Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
4.5.Sp5Horatio
’Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strew Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds. Let her come in.
Exit Gentleman. Enter Ophelia.
4.5.Sp6Queen
Aside To my sick soul, as sin’s true nature is, Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss. So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
Enter Ophelia.
4.5.Sp7Ophelia
Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?
4.5.Sp8Queen
How now, Ophelia?
4.5.Sp9Ophelia
(She sings.) “How should I your true love know From another one? By his cockle hat and staff, And his sandal shoon.”
4.5.Sp10Queen
Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
4.5.Sp11Ophelia
Say you? Nay, pray you, mark.
Song. He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone. At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.
Oho!
4.5.Sp12Queen
Nay, but Ophelia—
4.5.Sp13Ophelia
Pray you, mark. (Song.)
White his shroud as the mountain snow— Enter King.
4.5.Sp14Queen
Alas, look here, my lord.
4.5.Sp15Ophelia
(Song.) “Larded all with sweet flowers, Which bewept to the ground did not go With true-love showers.”
4.5.Sp16King
How do you, pretty lady?
4.5.Sp17Ophelia
Well Good dild you. They say the owl was a baker’s daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table!
4.5.Sp18King
Conceit upon her father.
4.5.Sp19Ophelia
Pray let’s have no words of this, but when they ask you what it means, say you this:
Song. Tomorrow is Saint Valentine’s Day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window To be your Valentine. Then up he rose, and donned his close And dupped the chamber door, Let in the maid, that out a maid Never departed more.
4.5.Sp20King
Pretty Ophelia—
4.5.Sp21Ophelia
Indeed? Without an oath I’ll make an end on’t.
Song
“By Gis and by Saint Charity, Alack, and fie for shame! Young men will do’t if they come to’t; By Cock, they are too blame. Quoth she, "Before you tumbled me, You promised me to wed.”
He answers,
“So would I ha’ done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed.”
4.5.Sp22King
How long hath she been thus?
4.5.Sp23Ophelia
I hope all will be well. We must be patient. But I cannot choose but weep to think they would lay him i’th’ cold ground. My brother shall know of it. And so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.
Exit.
4.5.Sp24King
To Horatio Follow her close. Give her good watch, I pray you. Exit Horatio. Oh, this is the poison of deep grief! It springs All from her father’s death and now behold! Oh, Gertrude, Gertrude, When sorrows come, they come not single spies But in battalions. First, her father slain; Next, your son gone, and he most violent author Of his own just remove; the people muddied, Thick and unwholesome in thoughts and whispers For good Polonius’ death, and we have done but greenly In hugger-mugger to inter him; poor Ophelia Divided from herself and her fair judgment, Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts; Last, and as much containing as all these, Her brother is in secret come from France, Feeds on this wonder, keeps himself in clouds, And wants not buzzers to infect his ear With pestilent speeches of his father’s death, Wherein necessity, of matter beggared, Will nothing stick our person to arraign In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this, Like to a murd’ring piece, in many places Gives me superfluous death.
A noise within. Enter a Messenger.
4.5.Sp25King
Attend! Where is my Switzers? Let them guard the door. What is the matter?
4.5.Sp26Messenger
Save yourself, my lord! The ocean, overpeering of his list, Eats not the flats with more impiteous haste Than young Laertes, in a riotous head, O’erbears your officers. The rabble call him lord, And, as the world were now but to begin, Antiquity forgot, custom not known, The ratifiers and props of every word, They cry, "Choose we! Laertes shall be king!" Caps, hands, and tongues applaud it to the clouds: "Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!"
4.5.Sp27Queen
How cheerfully on the false trail they cry! (A noise within.) Oh, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!
Enter Laertes with others.
4.5.Sp28King
The doors are broke.
4.5.Sp29Laertes
Where is this king?—Sirs, stand you all without.
4.5.Sp30All
No, let’s come in.
4.5.Sp31Laertes
I pray you, give me leave.
4.5.Sp32All
We will, we will.
4.5.Sp33Laertes
I thank you. Keep the door. Exeunt followers and Messenger. O thou vile king, Give me my father!
4.5.Sp34Queen
Calmly, good Laertes.
4.5.Sp35Laertes
That drop of blood that’s calm proclaims me bastard, Cries "Cuckold!" to my father, brands the harlot Even here between the chaste unsmirchèd brow Of my true mother.
4.5.Sp36King
What is the cause, Laertes, That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?— Let him go, Gertrude. Do not fear our person. There’s such divinity doth hedge a king That treason can but peep to what it would, Acts little of his will.—Tell me, Laertes, Why thou art thus incensed?—Let him go, Gertrude.— Speak, man.
4.5.Sp37Laertes
Where is my father?
4.5.Sp38King
Dead.
4.5.Sp39Queen
But not by him.
4.5.Sp40King
Let him demand his fill.
4.5.Sp41Laertes
How came he dead? I’ll not be juggled with. To hell, allegiance! Vows, to the blackest devil! Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit! I dare damnation. To this point I stand, That both the worlds I give to negligence, Let come what comes, only I’ll be revenged Most throughly for my father.
4.5.Sp42King
Who shall stay you?
4.5.Sp43Laertes
My will, not all the world’s. And for my means, I’ll husband them so well They shall go far with little.
4.5.Sp44King
Good Laertes, If you desire to know the certainty Of your dear father, is’t writ in your revenge That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe, Winner and loser?
4.5.Sp45Laertes
None but his enemies.
4.5.Sp46King
Will you know them, then?
4.5.Sp47Laertes
To his good friends thus wide I’ll ope my arms, And, like the kind life-rend’ring pelican, Repast them with my blood.
4.5.Sp48King
Why, now you speak Like a good child and a true gentleman. That I am guiltless of your father’s death, And am most sensibly in grief for it, It shall as level to your judgment ’pear As day does to your eye.
A noise within. Enter Ophelia as before.
4.5.Sp49Laertes
Let her come in. How now, what noise is that? O heat, dry up my brains! Tears seven times salt Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye! By heaven, thy madness shall be paid with weight Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May, Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia! O heavens, is’t possible a young maid’s wits Should be as mortal as a poor man’s life? Nature is fine in love, and where ’tis fine It sends some precious instance of itself After the thing it loves.
4.5.Sp50Ophelia
(Song.) “They bore him bare-faced on the bier, And in his grave rained many a tear.” Fare you well, my dove.
4.5.Sp51Laertes
Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge, It could not move thus.
4.5.Sp52Ophelia
You must sing "a-down, a-down,"an you call him "a-down-a." Oh, how the wheel becomes it!It is the false steward that stole his master’s daughter.
4.5.Sp53Laertes
This nothing’s more than matter.
4.5.Sp54Ophelia
There’s rosemary; that’s for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies; that’s for thoughts.
4.5.Sp55Laertes
A document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted.
4.5.Sp56Ophelia
There’s fennel for you, and columbines. There’s rue for you, and here’s some for me; we may call it herb of grace o’Sundays. You may wear your rue with a difference. There’s a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died. They say ’a made a good end.
She sings.
For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.
4.5.Sp57Laertes
Thought and afflictions, passion, hell itself She turns to favor and to prettiness.
4.5.Sp58Ophelia
(Song.) “And will ’a not come again? And will ’a not come again? No, no, he is dead, Go to thy deathbed, He never will come again. His beard was as white as snow, Flaxen was his poll. He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan. God ’a’ mercy on his soul!”
And of all Christians’ souls, I pray God. God b’wi’you!
Exit Ophelia, followed by the Queen.
4.5.Sp59Laertes
Do you see this, O God?
4.5.Sp60King
Laertes, I must commune with your grief, Or you deny me right. Go but apart, Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will, And they shall hear and judge ’twixt you and me. If by direct or by collateral hand They find us touched, we will our kingdom give, Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours To you in satisfaction; but if not, Be you content to lend your patience to us, And we shall jointly labor with your soul To give it due content.
4.5.Sp61Laertes
Let this be so. His means of death, his obscure funeral— No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o’er his bones, No noble rite, nor formal ostentation— Cry to be heard as ’twere from heaven to earth, That I must call’t in question.
4.5.Sp62King
So you shall, And where th’offense is, let the great ax fall. I pray you go with me.
Exeunt.

4.6

Enter Horatio, and others including a Gentleman.
4.6.Sp1Horatio
What are they that would speak with me?
4.6.Sp2Gentleman
Seafaring men, sir. They say they have letters for you.
4.6.Sp3Horatio
Let them come in. Exit Gentleman. I do not know from what part of the world I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
Enter Sailors.
4.6.Sp4Sailor
God bless you, sir.
4.6.Sp5Horatio
Let him bless thee too.
4.6.Sp6Sailor
’A shall, sir, an please him. There’s a letter for you, sir. It came from th’ambassador that was bound for England, if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.
He gives a letter.
4.6.Sp7Horatio
Reads the letter “Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the King; they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valor, and in the grapple I boarded them. On the instant they got clear of our ship, so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy, but they knew what they did: I am to do a turn for them. Let the King have the letters I have sent, and repair thou to me with as much speed as thou wouldest fly death. I have words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb, yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England. Of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell. He that thou knowest thine, Hamlet.”
4.6.Sp8Horatio
Come, I will give you way for these your letters, And do’t the speedier that you may direct me To him from whom you brought them.
Exeunt.

4.7

Enter King and Laertes.
4.7.Sp1King
Now must your conscience my acquittance seal, And you must put me in your heart for friend, Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear, That he which hath your noble father slain Pursued my life.
4.7.Sp2Laertes
It well appears. But tell me Why you proceed not against these feats So criminal and so capital in nature, As by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else, You mainly were stirred up.
4.7.Sp3King
Oh for two special reasons, Which may to you perhaps seem much unsinewed, But yet to me they’re strong. The Queen his mother Lives almost by his looks, and for myself— My virtue or my plague, be it either which— She is so conjunct to my life and soul That, as the star moves not but in his sphere, I could not but by her. The other motive Why to a public count I might not go Is the great love the general gender bear him, Who, dipping all his faults in their affection, Work, like the spring that turneth wood to stone, Convert his gyves to graces, so that my arrows, Too slightly timbered for so lovèd armed, Would have reverted to my bow again, But not where I have aimed them.
4.7.Sp4Laertes
And so have I a noble father lost, A sister driven into desp’rate terms, Whose worth, if praises may go back again, Stood challenger on mount of all the age For her perfections. But my revenge will come.
4.7.Sp5King
Break not your sleeps for that. You must not think That we are made of stuff so flat and dull That we can let our beard be shook with danger And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more. I loved your father, and we love ourself, And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine—
Enter a Messenger with letters.
4.7.Sp6Messenger
These to your majesty, this to the Queen.
He gives letters.
4.7.Sp7King
From Hamlet! Who brought them?
4.7.Sp8Messenger
Sailors, my lord, they say. I saw them not. They were given me by Claudio. He received them Of him that brought them.
4.7.Sp9King
Laertes, you shall hear them. To the Messenger Leave us. Exit Messenger.
He reads. High and mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your kingdom. Tomorrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes, when I shall first, asking you pardon, thereunto recount the occasion of my sudden return. Hamlet.
What should this mean? Are all the rest come back? Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?
4.7.Sp10Laertes
Know you the hand?
4.7.Sp11King
’Tis Hamlet’s character. "Naked!" And in a postscript here he says "alone." Can you devise me?
4.7.Sp12Laertes
I am lost in it, my lord. But let him come. It warms the very sickness in my heart That I live and tell him to his teeth "Thus didst thou."
4.7.Sp13King
If it be so, Laertes— As how should it be so, how otherwise?— Will you be ruled by me?
4.7.Sp14Laertes
Ay, my lord, So you will not o’errule me to a peace.
4.7.Sp15King
To thine own peace. If he be now returned As checking at his voyage, and that he means No more to undertake it, I will work him To an exploit, now ripe in my device, Under the which he shall not choose but fall; And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe, But even his mother shall uncharge the practice And call it accident.
4.7.Sp16Laertes
My lord, I will be ruled, The rather if you could devise it so That I might be the organ.
4.7.Sp17King
It falls right. You have been talked of since your travel much, And that in Hamlet’s hearing, for a quality Wherein they say you shine. Your sum of parts Did not together pluck such envy from him As did that one, and that, in my regard, Of the unworthiest siege.
4.7.Sp18Laertes
What part is that, my lord?
4.7.Sp19King
A very riband in the cap of youth, Yet needful too, for youth no less becomes The light and careless livery that it wears Than settled age his sables and his weeds Importing health and graveness. Two months since Here was a gentleman of Normandy. I have seen myself, and served against, the French, And they can well on horseback, but this gallant Had witchcraft in’t; he grew unto his seat, And to such wondrous doing brought his horse As had he been incorpsed and demi-natured With the brave beast. So far he topped my thought That I in forgery of shapes and tricks Come short of what he did.
4.7.Sp20Laertes
A Norman was’t?
4.7.Sp21King
A Norman.
4.7.Sp22Laertes
Upon my life, Lamord.
4.7.Sp23King
The very same.
4.7.Sp24Laertes
I know him well. He is the brooch indeed And gem of all the nation.
4.7.Sp25King
He made confession of you, And gave you such a masterly report For art and exercise in your defense, And for your rapier most especial, That he cried out ’twould be a sight indeed If one could match you. Th’escrimers of their nation, He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye If you opposed them. Sir, this report of his Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy That he could nothing do but wish and beg Your sudden coming o’er to play with you. Now, out of this—
4.7.Sp26Laertes
What out of this, my lord?
4.7.Sp27King
Laertes, was your father dear to you? Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, A face without a heart?
4.7.Sp28Laertes
Why ask you this?
4.7.Sp29King
Not that I think you did not love your father, But that I know love is begun by time, And that I see, in passages of proof, Time qualifies the spark and fire of it. There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it, And nothing is at a like goodness still, For goodness, growing to a pleurisy, Dies in his own too much. That we would do We should do when we would, for this "would" changes And hath abatements and delays as many As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents, And then this "should" is like a spendthrift’s sigh, That hurts by easing. But to the quick of th’ulcer: Hamlet comes back. What would you undertake To show yourself indeed your father’s son More than in words?
4.7.Sp30Laertes
To cut his throat i’th’ church.
4.7.Sp31King
No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize. Revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes, Will you do this: keep close within your chamber. Hamlet returned shall know you are come home. We’ll put on those shall praise your excellence And set a double varnish on the fame The Frenchman gave you, bring you in fine together, And wager o’er your heads. He being remiss, Most generous, and free from all contriving, Will not peruse the foils, so that with ease, Or with a little shuffling, you may choose A sword unbated, and in a pass of practice Requite him for your father.
4.7.Sp32Laertes
I will do’t, And for that purpose I’ll anoint my sword. I bought an unction of a mountebank So mortal that, but dip a knife in it, Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare, Collected from all simples that have virtue Under the moon, can save the thing from death That is but scratched withal. I’ll touch my point With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly, It may be death.
4.7.Sp33King
Lets further think of this. Weigh what convenience both of time and means May fit us to our shape. If this should fail, And that our drift look through our bad performance, ’Twere better not assayed. Therefore this project Should have a back or second, that might hold If this did blast in proof. Soft, let me see. We’ll make a solemn wager on your cunnings— I ha’t! When in your motion you are hot and dry— As make your bouts more violent to that end— And that he calls for drink, I’ll have preferred him A chalice for the nonce, whereon but sipping, If he by chance escape your venomed stuck, Our purpose may hold there. A cry within. But stay, what noise?
Enter Queen.
4.7.Sp34Queen
One woe doth tread upon another’s heel, So fast they follow. Your sister’s drowned, Laertes.
4.7.Sp35Laertes
Drowned! Oh, where?
4.7.Sp36Queen
There is a willow grows askant the brook That shows his hoary leaves in the glassy stream. Therewith fantastic garlands did she make Of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples, That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cull-cold maids do dead men’s fingers call them. There on the pendent boughs her crownet weeds Clamb’ring to hang, an envious sliver broke, When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide, And mermaid-like awhile they bore her up, Which time she chanted snatches of old lauds, As one incapable of her own distress, Or like a creature native and endued Unto that element. But long it could not be Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, Pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death.
4.7.Sp37Laertes
Alas, then she is drowned.
4.7.Sp38Queen
Drowned, drowned.
4.7.Sp39Laertes
Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my tears. But yet It is our trick; nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will. He weeps. When these are gone, The woman will be out. Adieu, my lord. I have a speech o’fire that fain would blaze, But that this folly drowns it.
Exit.
4.7.Sp40King
Let’s follow, Gertrude. How much I had to do to calm his rage! Now fear I this will give it start again; Therefore let’s follow.
Exeunt.

5.1

Enter two Clowns with spades and mattocks.
5.1.Sp1Clown
Is she to be buried in Christian burial, when she willfully seeks her own salvation?
5.1.Sp2Other
I tell thee she is; therefore make her grave straight. The crowner hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial.
5.1.Sp3Clown
How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defense?
5.1.Sp4Other
Why, ’tis found so.
5.1.Sp5Clown
It must be so offended, it cannot be else, for here lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act, and an act hath three branches: it is to act, to do, and to perform. Argal, she drowned herself wittingly.
5.1.Sp6Other
Nay, but hear you, good man delver.
5.1.Sp7Clown
Give me leave. Here lies the water; good. Here stands the man; good. If the man go to this water and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he goes. Mark you that. But if the water come to him and drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, he that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.
5.1.Sp8Other
But is this law?
5.1.Sp9Clown
Ay, marry, is’t, crowner’s quest law.
5.1.Sp10Other
Will you ha’ the truth on’t? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o’Christian burial.
5.1.Sp11Clown
Why, there thou say’st, and the more pity that great folk should have count’nance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their even-Christen. Come, my spade. There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and gravemakers. They hold up Adam’s profession.
5.1.Sp12Other
Was he a gentleman?
5.1.Sp13Clown
’A was the first that ever bore arms. I’ll put another question to thee. If thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess thyself.
5.1.Sp14Other
Go to.
5.1.Sp15Clown
What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?
5.1.Sp16Other
The gallows-maker, for that outlives a thousand tenants.
5.1.Sp17Clown
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.
5.1.Sp18Other
"Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?"
5.1.Sp19Clown
Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
5.1.Sp20Other
Marry, now I can tell.
5.1.Sp21Clown
To’t.
5.1.Sp22Other
Mass, I cannot tell.
5.1.Sp23Clown
Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating; and when you are asked this question next, say "a grave-maker." The houses he makes lasts till doomsday. Go get thee in, and fetch me a soope of liquor. Exit Second Clown. The First Clown digs.
Song. In youth when I did love, did love, Methought it was very sweet To contract—oh—the time for-a—my behove, Oh, methought there—a—was nothing—a—meet. Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
5.1.Sp24Hamlet
Has this fellow no feeling of his business? ’A sings in grave-making.
5.1.Sp25Horatio
Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.
5.1.Sp26Hamlet
’Tis e’en so. The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.
5.1.Sp27ClownSong.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.
The Clown throws up a skull.
5.1.Sp28Hamlet
That skull had a tongue in it and could sing once. How the knave jowls it to the ground, as if ’twere Cain’s jawbone, that did the first murder! This might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o’erreaches, one that would circumvent God, might it not?
5.1.Sp29Horatio
It might, my lord.
5.1.Sp30Hamlet
Or of a courtier, which could say, "Good morrow, sweet lord, how dost thou, sweet lord?" This might be my Lord Such-a-one, that praised my Lord Such-a-one’s horse when ’a went to beg it, might it not?
5.1.Sp31Horatio
Ay, my lord.
5.1.Sp32Hamlet
Why, e’en so. And now my Lady Worm’s, chopless, and knocked about the massene with a sexton’s spade. Here’s fine revolution, an we had the trick to see’t. Did these bones cost no more the breeding but to play at loggets with them? Mine ache to think on’t.
Song.
5.1.Sp33ClownA pickax and a spade, a spade, For and a shrouding sheet; Oh, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet.
He throws up another skull.
5.1.Sp34Hamlet
There’s another. Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? Why does he suffer this mad knave now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his action of battery? H’m! This fellow might be in’s time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries, to have his fine pate full of fine dirt? Will vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands will scarcely lie in this box, and must th’inheritor himself have no more, ha?
5.1.Sp35Horatio
Not a jot more, my lord.
5.1.Sp36Hamlet
Is not parchment made of sheepskins?
5.1.Sp37Horatio
Ay, my lord, and of calves’ skins too.
5.1.Sp38Hamlet
They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow.—Whose grave’s this, sirrah?
5.1.Sp39Clown
Mine, sir.
Sings. Oh, a pit of clay for to be made —
5.1.Sp40Hamlet
I think it be thine indeed, for thou liest in’t.
5.1.Sp41Clown
You lie out on’t, sir, and therefore ’tis not yours. For my part, I do not lie in’t, yet it is mine.
5.1.Sp42Hamlet
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.
5.1.Sp43Clown
’Tis a quick lie, sir; ’twill away again from me to you.
5.1.Sp44Hamlet
What man dost thou dig it for?
5.1.Sp45Clown
For no man, sir.
5.1.Sp46Hamlet
What woman, then?
5.1.Sp47Clown
For none, neither.
5.1.Sp48Hamlet
Who is to be buried in’t?
5.1.Sp49Clown
One that was a woman, sir, but, rest her soul, she’s dead.
5.1.Sp50Hamlet
To Horatio How absolute the knave is! We must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord, Horatio, this three years I have took note of it, the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier he galls his kibe.—How long hast thou been grave-maker?
5.1.Sp51Clown
Of the days i’th’ year, I came to’t that day that our last King Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.
5.1.Sp52Hamlet
How long is that since?
5.1.Sp53Clown
Cannot you tell that? Every fool can tell that. It was that very day that young Hamlet was born—he that is mad and sent into England.
5.1.Sp54Hamlet
Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?
5.1.Sp55Clown
Why, because ’a was mad. ’A shall recover his wits there, or if ’a do not, ’tis no great matter there.
5.1.Sp56Hamlet
Why?
5.1.Sp57Clown
’Twill not be seen in him there. There the men are as mad as he.
5.1.Sp58Hamlet
How came he mad?
5.1.Sp59Clown
Very strangely, they say.
5.1.Sp60Hamlet
How strangely?
5.1.Sp61Clown
Faith, e’en with losing his wits.
5.1.Sp62Hamlet
Upon what ground?
5.1.Sp63Clown
Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years.
5.1.Sp64Hamlet
How long will a man lie i’th’ earth ere he rot?
5.1.Sp65Clown
Faith, if ’a be not rotten before ’a die—as we have many pocky corses nowadays that will scarce hold the laying in—’a will last you some eight year, or nine year. A tanner will last you nine year.
5.1.Sp66Hamlet
Why he more than another?
5.1.Sp67Clown
Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade that ’a will keep out water a great while; and your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body. He picks up a skull. Here’s a skull now hath lyen you i’th’earth 23 years.
5.1.Sp68Hamlet
Whose was it?
5.1.Sp69Clown
A whoreson mad fellow’s it was. Whose do you think it was?
5.1.Sp70Hamlet
Nay, I know not.
5.1.Sp71Clown
A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! ’A poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was, sir, Yorick’s skull, the King’s jester.
5.1.Sp72Hamlet
This?
5.1.Sp73Clown
E’en that.
5.1.Sp74Hamlet
taking the skull Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath bore me on his back a thousand times, and now how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft.—Where be your gibes now? Your gambols, your songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your own grinning? Quite chopfall’n? Now get you to my lady’s table and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favor she must come. Make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.
5.1.Sp75Horatio
What’s that, my lord?
5.1.Sp76Hamlet
Dost thou think Alexander looked o’this fashion i’th’ earth?
5.1.Sp77Horatio
E’en so.
5.1.Sp78Hamlet
And smelt so? Pah!
He throws the skull down.
5.1.Sp79Horatio
E’en so, my lord.
5.1.Sp80Hamlet
To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till ’a find it stopping a bunghole?
5.1.Sp81Horatio
’Twere to consider too curiously to consider so.
5.1.Sp82Hamlet
No, faith, not a jot. But to follow him thither with modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust, the dust is earth, of earth we make loam, and why of that loam whereto he was converted might they not stop a beer-barrel?
“ Imperious Caesar, dead and turned to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. Oh, that that earth which kept the world in awe Should patch a wall t’expel the water’s flaw!” (Enter King, Queen, Laertes, and the corse of Ophelia, in funeral procession, with the "Doctor" or Priest, and others.) But soft, but soft awhile! Here comes the King, The Queen, the courtiers. Who is this they follow? And with such maimèd rites? This doth betoken The corse they follow did with desp’rate hand Fordo it own life. ’Twas of some estate. Couch we awhile and mark.
Hamlet and Horatio conceal themselves. Ophelia’s body is taken to the grave.
5.1.Sp83Laertes
What ceremony else?
5.1.Sp84Hamlet
Aside to Horatio That is Laertes, a very noble youth. Mark.
5.1.Sp85Laertes
What ceremony else?
5.1.Sp86Doctor
Her obsequies have been as far enlarged As we have warranty. Her death was doubtful, And, but that great command o’ersways the order, She should in ground unsanctified been lodged Till the last trumpet. For charitable prayers, Flints, and pebbles should be thrown on her; Yet here she is allowed her virgin crants, Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home Of bell and burial.
5.1.Sp87Laertes
Must there no more be done?
5.1.Sp88Doctor
No more be done. We should profane the service of the dead To sing a requiem and such rest to her As to peace-parted souls.
5.1.Sp89Laertes
Lay her i’th’ earth, And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest, A minist’ring angel shall my sister be When thou liest howling.
5.1.Sp90Hamlet
To Horatio What, the fair Ophelia!
5.1.Sp91Queen
Scattering flowers Sweets to the sweet! Farewell. I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet’s wife. I thought thy bride-bed to have decked, sweet maid, And not have strewed thy grave.
5.1.Sp92Laertes
Oh, treble woe Fall ten times double on that cursèd head Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense Deprived thee of!—Hold off the earth awhile, Till I have caught her once more in mine arms. He leaps in the grave Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead, Till of this flat a mountain you have made T’o’ertop old Pelion, or the skyish head Of blue Olympus.
5.1.Sp93Hamlet
Coming forward 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.
5.1.Sp94Laertes
Grappling with Hamlet The devil take thy soul!
5.1.Sp95Hamlet
Thou pray’st not well. I prithee take thy fingers from my throat, For, though I am not splenative rash, Yet have I in me something dangerous, Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand!
5.1.Sp96King
Pluck them asunder.
5.1.Sp97Queen
Hamlet, Hamlet!
5.1.Sp98All
Gentlemen!
5.1.Sp99Horatio
Good my lord, be quiet.
Hamlet and Laertes are parted.
5.1.Sp100Hamlet
Why, I will fight with him upon this theme Until my eyelids will no longer wag.
5.1.Sp101Queen
Oh, my son, what theme?
5.1.Sp102Hamlet
I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of love Make up my sum.—What wilt thou do for her?
5.1.Sp103King
Oh, he is mad, Laertes.
5.1.Sp104Queen
For love of God, forbear him.
5.1.Sp105Hamlet
’Swounds, show me what thou’lt do. Woo’t weep? Woo’t fight? Woo’t fast? Woo’t tear thyself? Woo’t drink up eisil? Eat a crocodile? I’ll do’t. Dost come here to whine? To outface me with leaping in her grave? Be buried quick with her, and so will I. And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw Millions of acres on us, till our ground, Singeing his pate against the burning zone, Make Ossa like a wart. Nay, an thou’lt mouth, I’ll rant as well as thou.
5.1.Sp106Queen
This is mere madness, And this awhile the fit will work on him; Anon, as patient as the female dove When that her golden couplets are disclosed, His silence will sit drooping.
5.1.Sp107Hamlet
To Laertes Hear you, sir, What is the reason that you use me thus? I loved you ever. But it is no matter. Let Hercules himself do what he may, The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
Exit Hamlet.
5.1.Sp108King
I pray thee, good Horatio, wait upon him. (And Horatio exits too.) Aside to Laertes Strengthen your patience in our last night’s speech; We’ll put the matter to the present push.— Good Gertrard, set some watch over your son.— This grave shall have a living monument. An hour of quiet thereby shall we see; Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt.

5.2

Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
5.2.Sp1Hamlet
So much for this, sir. Now shall you see the other. You do remember all the circumstance?
5.2.Sp2Horatio
Remember it, my lord!
5.2.Sp3Hamlet
Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep. Methought I lay Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly, And praised be rashness for it: let us know, Our indiscretion sometime serves us well When our deep plots do fall, and that should learn us There’s a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.
5.2.Sp4Horatio
That is most certain.
5.2.Sp5Hamlet
Up from my cabin, My sea-gown scarfed about me, in the dark Groped I to find out them, had my desire, Fingered their packet, and in fine withdrew To mine own room again, making so bold, My fears forgetting manners, to unfold Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio— Ah, royal knavery!—an exact command, Larded with many several sorts of reasons Importing Denmark’s health, and England’s too, With ho! such bugs and goblins in my life, That on the supervise, no leisure bated, No, not to stay the grinding of the ax, My head should be struck off.
5.2.Sp6Horatio
Is’t possible?
5.2.Sp7Hamlet
Showing a document Here’s the commission. Read it at more leisure. But wilt thou hear now how I did proceed?
5.2.Sp8Horatio
I beseech you.
5.2.Sp9Hamlet
Being thus benetted round with villains— Or I could make a prologue to my brains, They had begun the play—I sat me down, Devised a new commission, wrote it fair. I once did hold it, as our statists do, A baseness to write fair, and labored much How to forget that learning, but, sir, now It did me yeoman’s service. Wilt thou know Th’effect of what I wrote?
5.2.Sp10Horatio
Ay, good my lord.
5.2.Sp11Hamlet
An earnest conjuration from the King, As England was his faithful tributary, As love between them like the palm might flourish, As peace should still her wheaten garland wear And stand a comma ’tween their amities, And many suchlike "as, sir" of great charge, That on the view and knowing of these contents, Without debatement further more or less, He should those bearers put to sudden death, Not shriving time allowed.
5.2.Sp12Horatio
How was this sealed?
5.2.Sp13Hamlet
Why, even in that was heaven ordinant. I had my father’s signet in my purse, Which was the model of that Danish seal; Folded the writ up in the form of th’other, Subscribed it, gave’t th’impression, placed it safely, The changeling never known. Now the next day Was our sea fight, and what to this was sequent Thou knowest already.
5.2.Sp14Horatio
So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to’t.
5.2.Sp15Hamlet
They are not near my conscience. Their defeat Does by their own insinuation grow. ’Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes Between the pass and fell incensèd points Of mighty opposites.
5.2.Sp16Horatio
Why, what a King is this!
5.2.Sp17Hamlet
Does it not, think thee, stand me now upon? He that hath killed my King and whored my mother, Popped in between th’election and my hopes, Thrown out his angle for my proper life, And with such coz’nage—is’t not perfect conscience?
Enter a Courtier Osric.
5.2.Sp18Courtier
Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.
5.2.Sp19Hamlet
I humbly thank you, sir. Aside to Horatio Dost know this water-fly?
5.2.Sp20Horatio
Aside to Hamlet No, my good lord.
5.2.Sp21Hamlet
Aside to Horatio Thy state is the more gracious, for ’tis a vice to know him. He hath much land, and fertile. Let a beast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at the King’s mess. ’Tis a chough, but, as I say, spacious in the possession of dirt.
5.2.Sp22Courtier
Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should impart a thing to you from his majesty.
5.2.Sp23Hamlet
I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of spirit. Put your bonnet to his right use. ’Tis for the head.
5.2.Sp24Courtier
I thank your lordship, it is very hot.
5.2.Sp25Hamlet
No, believe me, ’tis very cold. The wind is northerly.
5.2.Sp26Courtier
It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.
5.2.Sp27Hamlet
But yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for my complexion.
5.2.Sp28Courtier
Exceedingly, my lord, it is very sultry, as ’twere—I cannot tell how. My lord, his majesty bade me signify to you that ’a has laid a great wager on your head. Sir, this is the matter—
5.2.Sp29Hamlet
Reminding Osric once more about his hat I beseech you, remember.
5.2.Sp30Courtier
Nay, good my lord, for my ease, in good faith. Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes—believe me, an absolute gentlemen, full of most excellent differences, of very soft society and great showing. Indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or calendar of gentry, for you shall find in him the continent of what part a gentleman would see.
5.2.Sp31Hamlet
Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you, though I know to divide him inventorially would dazzle th’arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw neither, in respect of his quick sail. But in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great article, and his infusion of such dearth and rareness as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his mirror, and who else would trace him, his umbrage, nothing more.
5.2.Sp32Courtier
Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.
5.2.Sp33Hamlet
The concernancy, sir? Why do we wrap the gentleman in our more rawer breath?
5.2.Sp34Courtier
Sir?
5.2.Sp35Horatio
To Hamlet Is’t not possible to understand in another tongue? You will do’t, sir, really.
5.2.Sp36Hamlet
To Osric What imports the nomination of this gentleman?
5.2.Sp37Courtier
Of Laertes?
5.2.Sp38Horatio
To Hamlet His purse is empty already; all’s golden words are spent.
5.2.Sp39Hamlet
To Osric Of him, sir.
5.2.Sp40Courtier
I know you are not ignorant—
5.2.Sp41Hamlet
I would you did, sir. Yet in faith if you did, it would not much approve me. Well, sir?
5.2.Sp42Courtier
You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is—
5.2.Sp43Hamlet
I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in excellence. But to know a man well were to know himself.
5.2.Sp44Cour.
I mean, sir, for his weapon. But in the imputation laid on him by them, in his meed he’s unfellowed.
5.2.Sp45Hamlet
What’s his weapon?
5.2.Sp46Cour.
Rapier and dagger.
5.2.Sp47Hamlet
That’s two of his weapons—but well.
5.2.Sp48Courtier
The King, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary horses, against the which he has impawned, as I take it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their assigns, as girdle, hanger, and so. Three of the carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberal conceit.
5.2.Sp49Hamlet
What call you the carriages?
5.2.Sp50Horatio
To Hamlet I knew you must be edified by the margin ere you had done.
5.2.Sp51Courtier
The carriage, sir, are the hangers.
5.2.Sp52Hamlet
The phrase would be more germane to the matter if we could carry a cannon by our sides; I would it might be "hangers" till then. But on. Six Barbary horses against six French swords, their assigns, and three liberal-conceited carriages: that’s the French bet against the Danish. Why is this all you call it?
5.2.Sp53Courtier
The King, sir, hath laid, sir, that in a dozen passes between yourself and him, he shall not exceed you three hits. He hath laid on twelve for nine, and it would come to immediate trial, if your lordship would vouchsafe the answer.
5.2.Sp54Hamlet
How if I answer no?
5.2.Sp55Courtier
I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.
5.2.Sp56Hamlet
Sir, I will walk here in the hall. If it please his majesty, it is the breathing time of day with me. Let the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpose, I will win for him an I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.
5.2.Sp57Courtier
Shall I deliver you so?
5.2.Sp58Hamlet
To this effect, sir, after what flourish your nature will.
5.2.Sp59Cour.
I commend my duty to your lordship.
5.2.Sp60Hamlet
Yours. Exit Courtier, Osric. ’A does well to commend it himself; there are no tongues else for’s turn.
5.2.Sp61Horatio
This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.
5.2.Sp62Hamlet
’A did so, sir, with his dug before ’a sucked it. Thus has he, and many more of the same breed that I know the drossy age dotes on, only got the tune of the time and, out of an habit of encounter, a kind of yeasty collection, which carries them through and through the most profane and winnowed opinions; and do but blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.
Enter a Lord.
5.2.Sp63Lord
My lord, his majesty commended him to you by young Osric, who brings back to him that you attend him in the hall. He sends to know if your pleasure hold to play with Laertes, or that you will take longer time?
5.2.Sp64Hamlet
I am constant to my purposes; they follow the King’s pleasure. If his fitness speaks, mine is ready: now or whensoever, provided I be so able as now.
5.2.Sp65Lord
The King and Queen and all are coming down.
5.2.Sp66Hamlet
In happy time.
5.2.Sp67Lord
The Queen desires you to use some gentle entertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.
5.2.Sp68Hamlet
She well instructs me.
Exit Lord.
5.2.Sp69Horatio
You will lose, my lord.
5.2.Sp70Hamlet
I do not think so. Since he went into France, I have been in continual practice; I shall win at the odds. Thou wouldst not think how ill all’s here about my heart, but it is no matter.
5.2.Sp71Horatio
Nay, good my lord—
5.2.Sp72Hamlet
It is but foolery, but it is such a kind of gaingiving as would perhaps trouble a woman.
5.2.Sp73Horatio
If your mind dislike anything, obey it. I will forestall their repair hither and say you are not fit.
5.2.Sp74Hamlet
Not a whit, we defy augury. There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be, ’tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all, since no man of aught of what he leaves knows what is’t to leave betimes. Let be.
A table prepared. Enter Trumpets, drums, and officers with cushions, King, Queen, Osric, and all the state, foils, daggers, and Laertes. Wine is borne in.
5.2.Sp75King
Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
The King puts Laertes’s hand into Hamlet’s.
5.2.Sp76Hamlet
To Laertes Give me your pardon, sir. I have done you wrong, But pardon’t as you are a gentleman. This presence knows, And you must needs have heard, how I am punished With a sore distraction. What I have done That might your nature, honor, and exception Roughly awake, I hear proclaim was madness. Was’t Hamlet wronged Laertes? Never Hamlet. If Hamlet from himself be ta’en away, And when he’s not himself does wrong Laertes, Then Hamlet does it not; Hamlet denies it. Who does it, then? His madness. If’t be so, Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged; His madness is poor Hamlet’s enemy. Let my disclaiming from a purposed evil Free me so far in your most generous thoughts That I have shot my arrow o’er the house And hurt my brother.
5.2.Sp77Laertes
I am satisfied in nature, Whose motive in this case should stir me most To my revenge. But in my terms of honor I stand aloof, and will no reconcilement, Till by some elder masters of known honor I have a voice and precedent of peace To keep my name ungored. But all that time I do receive your offered love like love, And will not wrong it.
5.2.Sp78Hamlet
I embrace it freely, and will this brother’s wager frankly play.— Give us the foils.
5.2.Sp79Laertes
Come, one for me.
5.2.Sp80Hamlet
I’ll be your foil, Laertes. In mine ignorance Your skill shall like a star i’th’ darkest night Stick fiery off indeed.
5.2.Sp81Laertes
You mock me, sir.
5.2.Sp82Hamlet
No, by this hand.
5.2.Sp83King
Give them the foils, young Osric. Foils are handed to Hamlet and Laertes. Cousin Hamlet, You know the wager.
5.2.Sp84Hamlet
Very well, my lord. Your grace has laid the odds o’th’weaker side.
5.2.Sp85King
I do not fear it; I have seen you both. But since he is better, we have therefore odds.
5.2.Sp86Laertes
This is too heavy. Let me see another.
He exchanges his foil for another.
5.2.Sp87Hamlet
This likes me well. These foils have all a length?
5.2.Sp88Osric
Ay, my good lord.
They prepare to play.
5.2.Sp89King
Set me the stoups of wine upon that table. If Hamlet give the first or second hit, Or quit in answer of the third exchange, Let all the battlements their ordnance fire. The King shall drink to Hamlet’s better breath, And in the cup an onyx shall he throw Richer then that which four successive kings In Denmark’s crown have worn. Give me the cups, And let the kettle to the trumpet speak, The trumpet to the cannoneer without, The cannons to the heavens, the heaven to earth, "Now the King drinks to Hamlet." Come, begin. (Trumpets the while.) And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.
5.2.Sp90Hamlet
Come on, sir.
5.2.Sp91Laertes
Come, my lord.
They fence. Hamlet scores a hit.
5.2.Sp92Hamlet
One.
5.2.Sp93Laertes
No.
5.2.Sp94Hamlet
To Osric Judgment.
5.2.Sp95Osric
A hit, a very palpable hit.
Drum, trumpets, and shot. Flourish. A piece goes off.
5.2.Sp96Laertes
Well, again.
5.2.Sp97King
Stay. Give me drink. Hamlet this pearl is thine. He drinks, and throws a pearl in Hamlet’s cup. Here’s to thy health.—Give him the cup.
5.2.Sp98Hamlet
I’ll play this bout first. Set it by awhile. Come. They fence. Come, another hit. What say you?
5.2.Sp99Laertes
I do confess’t.
5.2.Sp100King
To the Queen Our son shall win.
5.2.Sp101Queen
He’s fat and scant of breath.— Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows. The Queen takes a cup of wine to offer a toast to Hamlet. The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
5.2.Sp102Hamlet
Good madam.
5.2.Sp103King
Gertrude, do not drink.
5.2.Sp104Queen
I will, my lord, I pray you pardon me.
She drinks.
5.2.Sp105King
Aside It is the poisoned cup. It is too late.
5.2.Sp106Hamlet
I dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.
5.2.Sp107Queen
Come, let me wipe thy face.
5.2.Sp108Laertes
Aside to the King My lord, I’ll hit him now.
5.2.Sp109King
Aside to Laertes I do not think’t.
5.2.Sp110Laertes
Aside And yet it is almost against my conscience.
5.2.Sp111Hamlet
Come for the third, Laertes, you do but dally. I pray you, pass with your best violence; I am sure you make a wanton of me.
5.2.Sp112Laertes
Say you so? Come on.
They fence.
5.2.Sp113Osric
Nothing neither way.
5.2.Sp114Laertes
Have at you now!
Laertes wounds Hamlet with his unbated rapier. In scuffling they change rapiers. Hamlet wounds Laertes.
5.2.Sp115King
Part them! They are incensed.
5.2.Sp116Hamlet
Nay, come again.
Laertes falls down. The Queen falls down.
5.2.Sp117Osric
Look to the Queen there, ho!
5.2.Sp118Horatio
They bleed on both sides. To Hamlet How is it, my lord?
5.2.Sp119Osric
How is’t, Laertes?
5.2.Sp120Laertes
Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric; I am justly killed with mine own treachery.
5.2.Sp121Hamlet
How does the Queen?
5.2.Sp122King
She swoons to see them bleed.
5.2.Sp123Queen
No, no, the drink, the drink, O my dear Hamlet, The drink, the drink! I am poisoned.
She dies.
5.2.Sp124Hamlet
Oh, villainy! Ho, let the door be locked. Treachery! Seek it out.
Exit Osric.
5.2.Sp125Laertes
It is here. Hamlet, thou art slain. No med’cine in the world can do thee good; In thee there is not half an hour’s life. The treacherous instrument is in my hand, Unbated and envenomed. The foul practice Hath turned itself on me. Lo, here I lie Never to rise again. Thy mother’s poisoned. I can no more. The King, the King’s to blame.
5.2.Sp126Hamlet
The point envenomed too? Then, venom, to thy work.
He stabs the King.
5.2.Sp127All
Treason, treason!
5.2.Sp128King
Oh, yet defend me, friends, I am but hurt.
5.2.Sp129Hamlet
Forcing the King to drink Here, thou incestuous, damnèd Dane, Drink off this potion. Is the onyx here? Follow my mother.
The King dies.
5.2.Sp130Laertes
He is justly served. It is a poison tempered by himself. Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet. Mine and my father’s death come not upon thee, Nor thine on me!
He dies.
5.2.Sp131Hamlet
Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee. I am dead, Horatio. Wretched Queen, adieu. You that look pale and tremble at this chance, That are but mutes or audience to this act, Had I but time, as this fell sergeant Death Is strict in his arrest, oh, I could tell you— But let it be. Horatio, I am dead, Thou livest. Report me and my cause aright To the unsatisfied.
5.2.Sp132Horatio
Never believe it. I am more an antique Roman than a Dane. Here’s yet some liquor left.
He attempts to drink from the poisoned cup, but is prevented by Hamlet.
5.2.Sp133Hamlet
As thou’rt a man, Give me the cup! Let go! By heaven I’ll ha’t. Oh, God, Horatio, what a wounded name, Things standing thus unknown, shall I leave behind me! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain To tell my story. (A march afar off.) What warlike noise is this?
Enter Osric.
5.2.Sp134Osric
Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland, To th’ambassadors of England gives this warlike volley.
5.2.Sp135Hamlet
Oh, I die, Horatio. The potent poison quite o’ercrows my spirit. I cannot live to hear the news from England, But I do prophesy th’election lights On Fortinbras. He has my dying voice. So tell him, with th’occurrents more and less Which have solicited. The rest is silence.
He dies.
5.2.Sp136Horatio
Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince, And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest! March within. Why does the drum come hither?
Enter Fortinbras, with the English Ambassadors, with Drum, Colors, and Attendants.
5.2.Sp137Fortinbras
Where is this sight?
5.2.Sp138Horatio
What is it you would see? If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.
5.2.Sp139Fortinbras
This quarry cries on havoc. O proud Death, What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, That thou so many princes at a shot So bloodily hast struck?
5.2.Sp140Ambassador
The sight is dismal, And our affairs from England come too late. The ears are senseless that should give us hearing, To tell him his commandment is fulfilled, That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. Where should we have our thanks?
5.2.Sp141Horatio
Not from his mouth, Had it th’ability of life to thank you; He never gave commandment for their death. But since so jump upon this bloody question You from the Polack wars and you from England Are here arrived, give order that these bodies High on a stage be placèd the view, And let me speak to th’yet unknowing world How these things came about. So shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters, Of deaths put on by cunning and for no cause, And in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall’n on th’inventors’ heads. All this can I Truly deliver.
5.2.Sp142Fortinbras
Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the audience. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune. I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.
5.2.Sp143Horatio
Of that I shall have also cause to speak, And from his mouth whose voice will draw no more. But let this same be presently performed, Even while men’s minds are wild, lest more mischance On plots and errors happen.
5.2.Sp144Fortinbras
Let four captains Bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage, For he was likely, had he been put on, To have proved most royal; and for his passage, The soldiers’ music and the rite of war Speak loudly for him. Take up the bodies. Such a sight as this Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss. Go bid the soldiers shoot.
Exeunt.
FINIS.

Characters

Prosopography

David Bevington

David Bevington was the Phyllis Fay Horton Distinguished Service Professor Emeritus in the Humanities at the University of Chicago. His books include From Mankind to Marlowe (1962), Tudor Drama and Politics (1968), Action Is Eloquence (1985), Shakespeare: The Seven Ages of Human Experience (2005), This Wide and Universal Theater: Shakespeare in Performance, Then and Now (2007), Shakespeare’s Ideas (2008), Shakespeare and Biography (2010), and Murder Most Foul: Hamlet Through the Ages (2011). He was the editor of Medieval Drama (1975), The Bantam Shakespeare, and The Complete Works of Shakespeare. The latter was published in a seventh edition in 2014. He was a senior editor of the Revels Student Editions, the Revels Plays, The Norton Anthology of Renaissance Drama, and The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Ben Jonson (2012). Professor Bevington passed away on August 2, 2019.

Donald Bailey

Eric Rasmussen

Eric Rasmussen is Regents Teaching Professor and Foundation Professor of English at the University of Nevada. He is co-editor with Sir Jonathan Bate of the RSC William Shakespeare Complete Works and general editor, with Paul Werstine, of the New Variorum Shakespeare. He has received the Falstaff Award from PlayShakespeare.com for Best Shakespearean Book of the Year in 2007, 2012, and 2013.

James D. Mardock

James Mardock is Associate Professor of English at the University of Nevada, Associate General Editor for the Internet Shakespeare Editions, and a dramaturge for the Lake Tahoe Shakespeare Festival and Reno Little Theater. In addition to editing quarto and folio Henry V for the ISE, he has published essays on Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, and other Renaissance literature in The Seventeenth Century, Ben Jonson Journal, Borrowers and Lenders, and contributed to the collections Representing the Plague in Early Modern England (Routledge 2010) and Shakespeare Beyond Doubt (Cambridge 2013). His book Our Scene is London (Routledge 2008) examines Jonson’s representation of urban space as an element in his strategy of self-definition. With Kathryn McPherson, he edited Stages of Engagement (Duquesne 2013), a collection of essays on drama in post-Reformation England, and he is currently at work on a monograph on Calvinism and metatheatrical awareness in early modern English drama.

Janelle Jenstad

Janelle Jenstad is a Professor of English at the University of Victoria, Director of The Map of Early Modern London, and Director of Linked Early Modern Drama Online. With Jennifer Roberts-Smith and Mark Beatrice Kaethler, she co-edited Shakespeare’s Language in Digital Media: Old Words, New Tools (Routledge). She has edited John Stow’s A Survey of London (1598 text) for MoEML and is currently editing The Merchant of Venice (with Stephen Wittek) and Heywood’s 2 If You Know Not Me You Know Nobody for DRE. Her articles have appeared in Digital Humanities Quarterly, Elizabethan Theatre, Early Modern Literary Studies, Shakespeare Bulletin, Renaissance and Reformation, and The Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies. She contributed chapters to Approaches to Teaching Othello (MLA); Teaching Early Modern Literature from the Archives (MLA); Institutional Culture in Early Modern England (Brill); Shakespeare, Language, and the Stage (Arden); Performing Maternity in Early Modern England (Ashgate); New Directions in the Geohumanities (Routledge); Early Modern Studies and the Digital Turn (Iter); Placing Names: Enriching and Integrating Gazetteers (Indiana); Making Things and Drawing Boundaries (Minnesota); Rethinking Shakespeare Source Study: Audiences, Authors, and Digital Technologies (Routledge); and Civic Performance: Pageantry and Entertainments in Early Modern London (Routledge). For more details, see janellejenstad.com.

Kate LeBere

Project Manager, 2020–2021. Assistant Project Manager, 2019–2020. Textual Remediator and Encoder, 2019–2021. Kate LeBere completed her BA (Hons.) in History and English at the University of Victoria in 2020. During her degree she published papers in The Corvette (2018), The Albatross (2019), and PLVS VLTRA (2020) and presented at the English Undergraduate Conference (2019), Qualicum History Conference (2020), and the Digital Humanities Summer Institute’s Project Management in the Humanities Conference (2021). While her primary research focus was sixteenth and seventeenth century England, she completed her honours thesis on Soviet ballet during the Russian Cultural Revolution. She is currently a student at the University of British Columbia’s iSchool, working on her masters in library and information science.

Martin Holmes

Martin Holmes has worked as a developer in the UVic’s Humanities Computing and Media Centre for over two decades, and has been involved with dozens of Digital Humanities projects. He has served on the TEI Technical Council and as Managing Editor of the Journal of the TEI. He took over from Joey Takeda as lead developer on LEMDO in 2020. He is a collaborator on the SSHRC Partnership Grant led by Janelle Jenstad.

Michael Best

Michael Best is Professor Emeritus at the University of Victoria, BC. He founded the Internet Shakespeare Editions in 1996, and was Coordinating Editor until 2017, contributing two editions to the ISE: King John and King Lear (the latter also available in print from Broadview Press). In print, he has published editions of works of Elizabethan magic and huswifery, a collection of letters from the Australian goldfields, and Shakespeare on the Art of Love (2008). He contributed regular columns for the Shakespeare Newsletter on Electronic Shakespeares, and has written many articles and chapters for both print and online books and journals, principally on questions raised by the new medium in the editing and publication of texts. He has delivered papers and plenary lectures on electronic media and the Internet Shakespeare Editions at conferences in Canada, the USA, the UK, Spain, Australia, and Japan.

Rachael Ruth

Rachael Ruth is completing her Bachelor of Arts in Leadership Studies and French Studies with a minor in Business Administrations at the University of Richmond. She is an intern under Janelle Jenstad and is an Encoder of the MoEML Mayoral Shows anthology.

Tracey El Hajj

Junior Programmer 2019–2020. Research Associate 2020–2021. Tracey received her PhD from the Department of English at the University of Victoria in the field of Science and Technology Studies. Her research focuses on the algorhythmics of networked communications. She was a 2019–2020 President’s Fellow in Research-Enriched Teaching at UVic, where she taught an advanced course on Artificial Intelligence and Everyday Life. Tracey was also a member of the Map of Early Modern London team, between 2018 and 2021. Between 2020 and 2021, she was a fellow in residence at the Praxis Studio for Comparative Media Studies, where she investigated the relationships between artificial intelligence, creativity, health, and justice. As of July 2021, Tracey has moved into the alt-ac world for a term position, while also teaching in the English Department at the University of Victoria.

William Shakespeare

Orgography

LEMDO Team (LEMD1)

The LEMDO Team is based at the University of Victoria and normally comprises the project director, the lead developer, project manager, junior developers(s), remediators, encoders, and remediating editors.

University of Victoria (UVIC1)

https://www.uvic.ca/

Metadata