Hamlet, Quarto 2

Hamlet, Quarto 2 Ham: Q2 Author William Shakespeare Transcriber Chloe Mee Proofreader Rae Shemwell Rostron Markup Editor Chloe Mee Copyright holder University of Victoria University of Victoria on the Linked Early Modern Drama Online Platform

Quarto 2, 1605. Mee has compared the transcription with the facsimiles from The British Library and corrected as necessary. Note that this copy is Q2b. This copy did not have the last page. Therefore, the transcription for the last page was taken from the University of Wroclaw copy: https://www.bibliotekacyfrowa.pl/dlibra/publication/23630/edition/31409/content?. The British Library copy is cropped; catchwords have been supplied from the Yale University, Elizabethan Club copy (sc32)

The remediator of this text (CMEE1) commented out all of lb elements with the value of TLN for @type in the case that they might be useful in the future (e.g. a link to the folio for this text). All of the lbs that were previously marked up with the value of QLN for @type on lb were changed to WLN. The transcriber of this text (CMEE1) did not encode any instances of blackletter type. Document Types All documents in LEMDO are either born-digital documents or primary documents. Within those two general categories, LEMDO offers additional ways to categorize a file. Primary Source Primary source documents. Use this top-level category only for supplementary texts, usually in combination with the editorial treatment letmixed. Primary Source Text Edited primary source texts. Modernized texts and semi-diplomatic texts must have this value. Not to be used for supplementary texts. Early Modern Book Formats Early Modern Book Formats Quarto Print volume constructed from sheets folded twice. Editorial Treatments Distinct approaches to textual editing used by LEMDO editors Semi-diplomatic transcription Texts in which original spelling and other features have been retained. Document History Various sources from which born-digital texts have made their way into the LEMDO collection. Original Source: IML This TEI file was created based on one or more files from the Internet Shakespeare Editions anthology, originally encoded in ISE Markup Language (a custom markup language somewhat resembling SGML). Responsibilities Responsibilities Author A person, family, or organization responsible for creating a work that is primarily textual in content, regardless of media type (e.g., printed text, spoken word, electronic text, tactile text) or genre (e.g., poems, novels, screenplays, blogs). Use also for persons, etc., creating a new work by paraphrasing, rewriting, or adapting works by another creator such that the modification has substantially changed the nature and content of the original or changed the medium of expression. LEMDO uses the term author in two contexts: (1) to indicate the author of a primary work or document (such as Hamlet), and (2) to indicate the author of a secondary text (such as the Critical Introduction to <title level="m">Hamlet, by David Bevington). Markup Editor A person or organization performing the coding of SGML, HTML, or XML markup of metadata, text, etc. Gloss needed. Proofreader A person who corrects printed matter. LEMDO uses the term proofreader for the person who performs minor corrections to a finalized document, which usually include typographical or rendering fixes. For copy-editing, use resp:edt_cpy. Copyright Holder A person or organization to whom copy and legal rights have been granted or transferred for the intellectual content of a work. The copyright holder, although not necessarily the creator of the work, usually has the exclusive right to benefit financially from the sale and use of the work to which the associated copyright protection applies. Normally the editor is the copyright holder for an LEMDO edition. Transcriber A person, family, or organization contributing to a resource by changing it from one system of notation to another. font-style: italic; letter-spacing: 0.5em; font-style: normal; text-align: right; display: inline-block; o ô U+00D4 o[nm] õ {~o} U+00F5 The expansion of this glyph depends on its context; in most cases it involves the addition of a nasal, but each case must be handled manually. See also Latin Small Letter o with Macron. s ſ {s} U+017F w w vv {vv} {w} W W VV {VV} {W} us ꝰ U+A770 ae AE Æ {AE} U+00C6 ct ct {ct} es es ff ff ﬀ {ff} U+FB00 ffi ffi ﬃ {ffi} U+FB03 ffl ffl ﬄ {ffl} U+FB04 fi fi ﬁ {fi} U+FB01 fl fl ﬂ {fl} U+FB02 ft ft {ft} fu {ffu} is is {is} ll ll {ll} sh ſh {{s}h} si ſi {{s}i} sl ſl {{s}l} ss ſſ {{s}{s}} ssi ſſi {{s}{s}i} st st ﬆ {st} U+FB06 st ſt ﬅ {{s}t} U+FB05 us us {us} Checked title page lineation. Updated encoding of figure Finished Semi-Diplomatic Transcriptions and proofread Started semidiplomatic transcription and correction of spellings and punctuation as is shown in Q2 Finished numbering speeches, stopped working in file. Started working in file again to number speeches. Replaced original @place values with new ones from emdPlacement taxonomy. Stopped working on this file. NOTE: speeches have yet to be numbered, @facs could be added to pb elements, delete commented-out TLNs. Renumber WLNs, currently from line 5835/page F1r. Began transcribing and encoding the file. Donald Bailey Donald Bailey Michael Best 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.

David Bevington 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 <soCalled>Mankind</soCalled> 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.

Abby Flight Abby Flight

Remediator and encoder, 2024–present. Abby Flight completed her BA in English at the University of Victoria in 2024, and is now an MA student focusing on Medieval and Early Modern Studies.

Martin Holmes 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.

Navarra Houldin Navarra Houldin

Training and Documentation Lead 2025–present. LEMDO project manager 2022–2025. Textual remediator 2021–present. Navarra Houldin (they/them) completed their BA with a major in history and minor in Spanish at the University of Victoria in 2022. Their primary research was on gender and sexuality in early modern Europe and Latin America. They are continuing their education through an MA program in Gender and Social Justice Studies at the University of Alberta where they will specialize in Digital Humanities.

Janelle Jenstad 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 Kate LeBere KL

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.

James D. Mardock James 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.

Chloe Mee Chloe Mee CM

Chloe Mee (she/her) worked as a research assistant with the LEMDO team over several periods from 2022 to 2025. She graduated from the University of Victoria in 2025 with a BA (Hons with distinction) in English. She will be studying at the University of British Columbia to complete her MA in English. Chloe collaborated with the LEMDO team on a VKURA internship in summer 2022, mainly focusing on Hamlet quartos. Following her internship, she also worked as a research assistant in 2022–23 and 2025.

Eric Rasmussen 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.

Rae S. Rostron Rae S. Rostron

Rae is studying a BA in English Literature at Durham University. She is particularly interested in representations of grief and trauma in literature and is currently researching femicide in the novel. Rae has interned for Creative Media Agency (NYC) and is an acting student researcher for King College London’s Psychology Department exploring loneliness in students.

William Shakespeare William Shakespeare LEMDO Team 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 https://www.uvic.ca/ THE Tragicall Historie of HAMLET, Prince of Denmarke. By William Shakespeare. Newly imprinted and enlarged to almost as much againe as it was, according to the true and perfect Coppie.

AT LONDON, Printed by I. R. for N. L. and are to be sold at his shoppe vnder Saint Dun stons Church in Fleetstreet. 1605.

The Tragedie of HAMLET Prince of Denmarke. Enter Barnardo, and Francisco, two Centinels. Bar. VVHose there? Fran. Nay, answere me. Stand and vnfold your self. Bar. Long liue the King. Fran. Barnardo. Bar. Hee. Fran. You come most carefully vpon your houre, Bar. Tis now strooke twelfe, get thee to bed, Francisco. Fran. For this reliefe much thanks, tis bitter cold, And I am sick at hart. Bar. Haue you had quiet guard? Fran. Not a mouse stirring. Bar. Well, good night: If you doe meete Horatio and Marcellus, The riualls of my watch, bid them make hast. Enter Horatio, and Marcellus. Fran. I think I heare them, stand ho, who is there? Hora. Friends to this ground. Mar. And Leedgemen to the Dane, Fran. Giue you good night. Mar. O, farwell, honest soldiers, who hath relieu’d you? Fran. Barnardo hath my place; giue you good night. Exit Fran. B. Mar. The Tragedie of Hamlet Mar. Holla, Barnardo. Bar. Say, what is Horatio there? Hora. A peece of him. Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus. Hora. What, ha’s this thing appeard again to night? Bar. I haue seene nothing. Mar. Horatio saies tis but our fantasie, And will not let belie fe take holde of him, Touching this dreaded sight twice seene of vs, Therefore I haue intreated him along, With vs to watch the minuts of this night, That if againe this apparision come. He may approoue our eyes and speake to it. Hora. Tush, tush, twill not appeare. Bar. Sit downe awhile, And let vs once againe assaile your eares, That are so fortified against our story, What we haue two nights seene. Hora. Well, sit we downe, And let vs heare Barnardo speake of this. Bar. Last night of all, When yond same starre thats weastward from the pole, Had made his course t’illume that part of heauen Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my selfe, The bell then beating one. Enter Ghost. Mar. Peace, breake thee off, looke where it comes againe. Bar. In the same figure like the King thats dead. Mar. Thou art a schollar, speake to it Horatio. Bar. Lookes a not like the King? marke it, Horatio. Hor. Most like, it harrowes me with feare and wonder. Bar. It would be spoke to. Marcellus Speake to it, Horatio. Hora. What art thou that vsurpst this time of night, Together with that faire and warlike forme, In which the Maiestie of buried Denmarke Did sometimes march, by heauen, I charge thee speake. Mar. It is offended. Bar. See it staukes away. Hora. Prince of Denmarke. Hora. Stay, speake, speake, I charge thee speake. Exit Ghost. Mar. Tis gone and will not answere. Bar. How now Horatio, you tremble and looke pale Is not this somthing more then phantasie? What thinke you-ont? Hora. Before my God I might not this belieue Without the sencible and true auouch Of mine owne eies. Mar. Is it not like the King? Hora. As thou art to thy selfe. Such was the very Armor he had on, When he the ambitious Norway combated, So frownd he once, when in an angry parle He smot the sleaded pollax on the ice. Tis strange. Mar. Thus twice before, and iump at this dead houre, With martiall stauke hath he gone by our watch. Hora. In what perticular thought, to worke I know not, But in the grosse and scope of mine opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state. Mar. Good now sit downe, and tell me he that knowes, Why this same strikt and most obseruant watch So nightly toiles the subject of the land, And with such dayly cost of brazon Cannon And forraine marte, for implements of warre, Why such impress of ship-writes, whose sore taske Does not deuide the Sunday from the weeke, What might be toward that this sweaty hast Doth make the night ioynt labourer with the day, Who ist that can informe mee? Hora. That can I. At least the whisper goes so; our last King, Whose image euen but now appear’d to vs, Was as you knowe by Fortinbrasse of Norway, Thereto prickt on by a most emulate pride Dar’d to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet, (For so this side of our knowne world esteemd him) Did slay this Fortinbrasse, who by a seald compact Well ratified by lawe and heraldy B2 Did The Tragedie of Hamlet Did forfait (with his life) all these his lands Which he stood seaz’d of, to the conquerour. Against the which a moitie competent Was gaged by our King, which had returne To the inheritance of Fortinbrasse, Had he been vanquisher; as by the same comart, And carriage of the article desseigne, His fell to Hamlet; now Sir, young Fortinbrasse Of vnimprooued mettle, hot and full, Hath in the skirts of Norway heere and there Sharkt vp a list of lawelesse resolutes For foode and diet to some enterprise That hath a stomacke in’t, which is no other As it doth well appeare vnto our state But to recouer of us by strong hand And termes compulsatory, those foresaid lands So by his father lost; and this I take it, Is the maine motiue of our preparations, The source of this our watch, and the chiefe head Of this post hast and Romeage in the land. Bar. I thinke it be no other, but enso; Well may it sort that this portentous figure Comes armed through our watch so like the King That was and is the question of these warres. Hora. A moth it is to trouble the mindes eye: In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Iulius fell The graues stood tennatlesse, and the sheeted dead Did squeake and gibber in the Roman streets As starres with traines of fier, and dewes of blood Disasters in the sunne; and the moist starre, Vpon whose influence Neptunes Empier stands, Was sicke almostto doomesday with eclipse. And euen the like precurse of feare euents As harbindgers preceading still the fates And prologue to the Omen comming on Haue heauen and earth together demonstrated Vnto our Climatures and countrymen. Enter Ghost. But Prince of Denmarke. But soft, behold, loe where it comes againe Ile crosse it though it blast mee: stay, illusion, It spreads his armes. If thou hast any sound or vse of voyce, Speake to me, if there be any good thing to be done That may to thee doe ease, and grace to mee, Speake to me. If thou art priuie to thy countries fate, Which happily foreknowing may auoyd, O speake: Or if thou hast vphoorded in thy life Extorted treasure in the wombe of earth For which they say your spirits oft walke in death. The cocke crowes. Speake of it, stay and speake, stop it Marcellus. Mar. Shall I strike it with my partizan? Hor. Doe if it will not stand. Bar. Tis heere. Hor. Tis heere. Mar. Tis gone. We doe it wrong being so Maiesticall To offer it the showe of violence, For it is as the ayre, invulnerable, And our vaine blowes malicious mockery. Bar. It was about to speake when the cock crewe. Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing, Vpon a fearefull summons; I haue heard, The Cock that is the trumpet to the morne, 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 ayre Th’extrauagant and erring spirit hies To his confine, and of the truth heerein This present object made probation. Mar. It faded on the crowing of the Cock. Some say that euer gainst that season comes Wherein our Sauiours birth is celebrated This bird of dawning singeth all night long, And then they say no spirit dare sturre abraode The nights are wholsome, then no plannets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charme B3 So The Tragedie of Hamlet So hallowed, and so gratious is that time. Hora. So haue I heard and doe in part belieue it. But looke the morne in russet mantle clad Walkes ore the dewe of yon high Eastward hill Breake we our watch vp and by my aduise Let vs impart what we haue seene to night Vnto young Hamlet, for vppon my life This spirit dumb to vs, will speake to him: Doe you consent we shall acquaint him with it As needfull in our loues, fitting our duty. Mar. Lets doo’t, I pray, and I this morning knowe Where we shall find him most conuenient. Exeunt. Flourish.Enter Claudius, King of Denmarke, Gertrad the Queene, Counsaile: as Polonius and his Sonne Laertes, Hamlet, Cum Alys. Claud. Though yet of Hamlet our deare brothers death The memorie be greene, and that it vs befitted To beare our harts in griefe, and our whole Kingdome, To be contracted in one browe of woe Yet so farre hath discretion fought with nature, That we with wisest sorrowe thinke on him Together with remembrance of our selues: Therefore our sometime Sister, now our Queene Th’imperiall ioyntresse to this warlike state Haue we as twere with a defeated ioy With an auspitious, and a dropping eye, With mirth in funerall, and with dirdge in marriage, In equall scale waighing delight and dole Taken to wife: nor have we heerein bard Your better wisdomes, which haue freely gone With this affaire along (for all our thankes) Now followes that you knowe young Fortinbrasse, Holding a weake supposall of our worth Or thinking by our late deare brothers death Our state to be disioynt and out of frame Coleagued with this dreame of his aduantage He hath not faild to pestur vs with message Importing Prince of Denmarke Importing the surrender of those lands Lost by his father, with all bands of lawe To our most valiant brother, so much for him: Now for our selfe, and for this time of meeting, Thus much the busines is, we haue heere writ To Norway Vncle of young Fortenbrasse Who impotent and bedred scarcely heares Of this his Nephewes purpose; to suppresse His further gate hereein, in that the leuies, The lists, and full proportions are all made Out of his subject, and we heere dispatch You good Cornelius, and you Valtemand, For bearers of this greeting to old Norway, Giuing to you no further personall power To busines with the King, more than the scope Of these delated articles allowe: Farwell, and let your haste commend your dutie. Cor. Vo. In that, and all things will we showe our dutie. King. We doubt it nothing, hartely farewell. And now Laertes whats the newes with you? You told vs of some sute , what ist Laertes? You cannot speake of reason to the Dane And lose your voice. What wouldst thou begge, Laertes,? That shall not be my offer, not thy asking, The head is not more natiue to the hart The hand more instrumentall to the mouth Then is the throne of Denmarke to thy father, What would’st thou haue, Laertes? Laer. My dread Lord, Your leaue and fauour to returne to Fraunce, From whence, though willingly I came to Denmarke, To showe my dutie in your Coronation; Yet now I must confesse, that duty done My thoughts and wiees bend againe toward Fraunce And bowe them to your gracious leaue and pardon. King Haue you your fathers leaue, what saies Polonius? Polo. Hath my lord wroung from me my slowe leaue By labouroome petition, and at last Vpon his will I seald my hard consent, I The Tragedie of Hamlet I doe beseech you giue him leaue to goe. King Take thy faire houre Laertes, time be thine And thy best graces spend it at thy will: But now my Cosin Hamlet, and my sonne. Ham. A little more then kin, and lesse then kind. King How is it that the clowdes still hang on you. Ham. Not so much my lord, I am too much in the sonne. Queene. Good Hamlet cast thy nighted colour off And let thine eye looke like a friend on Denmarke, Do not for euer with thy vailed lids Seeke for thy noble Father in the dust, Thou know’st tis common all that liues must die, Passing through nature to eternitie. Ham. I Maddam, it is common. Quee. If it be Why seemes it so perticuler with thee. Ham. Seemes Maddam, nay it is, I know not seemes, Tis not alone my incky cloake coold mother Nor customary suites of solembe blacke Nor windie suspiration of forst breath No, nor the fruitfull riuer in the eye, Nor the deiected hauior of the visage Together with all formes, moodes, chapes of griefe That can deuote me truely, these indeede seeme For they are actions that a man might play But I haue that within which passes showe These but the trappings and the suites of woe. King. Tis sweete and commendable in your nature Hamlet, To giue these mourning duties to your father But you must knowe your father lost a father, That father lost, lost his, and the suruiuer bound In filiall obligation for some tearme To doe obsequious sorrowe, but to perseuer In obstinate condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornes, tis vnmanly griefe, It showes a will most incorrect to heauen A hart vnfortified, or minde impatient An vnderstanding simple and vnschoold For what we know must be, and is as common As Prince of Denmarke. As any the most vulgar thing to sence, Why should we in our peuish opposition Take it to hart, fie, tis a fault to heauen, A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, To reason most absurd, whose common theame Is death of fathers, and who still hath cryed From the first course, till he that died to day This must be so: we pray you throw to earth This vnpreuailing woe, and thinke of vs As of a father, for let the world take note You are the most imediate to our throne, And with no lesse nobilitie of loue Then that which dearest father beares his sonne Doe I impart toward you for your intent In going back to schoole in Wittenberg, It is most retrogard to our destire, And we beseech you bend you to remaine Heere in the cheare and comfort of our eye, Our chiefest courtier, cosin, and our sonne. Quee. Let not thy mother loose her prayers Hamlet, I pray thee stay with vs, goe not to Wittenberg. Ham. I shall in all my best obay you Madam. King. Why tis a louing and a faire reply, Be as our selfe in Denmarke, Madam come, This gentle and vnforc’d accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to my hart, in grace whereof, No iocond health that Denmarke drinkes to day, But the great Cannon to the cloudes shall tell. And the Kings rowse the heauen shall brute againe, Respeaking earthly thunder; come, away. Flourish. Exeunt all, but Hamlet. Ham. O that this too too sallied flesh would melt, Thaw and resolue it selfe into a dewe, Or that the euerlasting had not fixt His cannon gainst seale slaughter, o God, God, How wary, stale, flat, and vnprofitable Seeme to me all the vses of this world? Fie on’t, ah fie, tis an vnweeded garden That growes to seede, things rancke and grose in nature, Possesse it meerely that it should come thus C. But The Tragedie of Hamlet But two months dead, nay not so much, not two, So excellent a King, that was to this Hiperion to a satire, so louing to my mother, That he might not beteeme the winds of heauen Visite her face too roughly, heauen and earth Must I remember, why she should hang on him As if increase of appetite had growne By what it fed on, and yet within a month, Let me not thinke on’t; frailty thy name is woman A little month or ere those shooes were old With which she followed my poore fathers bodie Like Niobe all teares, why she O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason Would haue mourn’d longer, married with my Vncle, My fathers brother, but no more like my father Then I to Hercules, within a month, Ere yet the salt of most vnrighteous teares, Had left the flushing in her gauled eyes She married, o most wicked speede; to post With such dexteritie to incestuous sheets, It is not, nor it cannot come to good, But breake my hart, for I must hold my tongue. Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo. Hora. Haile to your Lordship. Ham. I am glad to see you well; Horatio, or I do forget my selfe. Hora. The same my Lord, and your poore seruant euer. Ham. Sir my good friend, Ile change that name with you, And what make you from Wittenberg Horatio ? Marcellus. Mar. My good Lord. Ham. I am very glad to see you. (good euen sir) But what in faith make you from Wittenberg? Hora. A truant disposition good my Lord. Ham. I would not heare your enimie say so, Nor shall you doe my eare that violence To make it truster of your owne report Against your selfe, I knowe you are no truant, But what is your affaire in Elsonoure? Weele teach you for to drinke ere you depart. Hora. Prince of Denmarke. Hora. My Lord, I came to see your fathers funerall. Ham. I pre thee doe not mocke me, fellowe studient, I thinke it was to my mothers wedding. Hora. Indeede my Lord it followed hard vppon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio, the funerall bak’t meates Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables, Would I had met my dearest foe in heauen Or euer I had seene that day Horatio, My father, me thinkes I see my father. Hora. Where my Lord? Ham. In my mindes eye Horatio. Hora. I saw him once, a was a goodly King. Ham. A was a man take him for all in all I shall not looke vppon his like againe. Hora. My Lord I thinke I saw him yesternight. Ham. saw, who? Hora. My Lord the King your father. Ham. The King my father? Hora. Season your admiration for a while With an attent eare till I may deliuer Vppon the witnes of these gentlemen This maruile to you. Ham. For Gods loue let me heare? Hora. Two nights together had these gentlemen Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch In the dead wast and middle of the night Beene thus incountred, a figure like your father Armed at poynt, exactly Capapea Appeares before them, and with solemne march, Goes slowe and stately by them; thrice he walkt By their opprest and feare surprised eyes Within his tronchions length, whil’st they distil’d Almost to gelly, with the act of feare Stand dumbe and speake not to him; this to me In dreadfull secresie impart they did, And I with them the third night kept the watch, Whereas they had deliuered both in time Forme of the thing, each word made true and good, The Apparision comes: I knewe your father, C2 These The Tragedie of Hamlet These hands are not more like. Ham. But where was this? Mar. My Lord vppon the platforme where we watch. Ham. Did you not speake to it? Hora. My Lord I did, But answere made it none, yet once me thought It lifted vp it head, and did addresse It selfe to motion like as it would speake: But euen then the morning Cock crewe loude, And at the sound it shrunk in hast away And vanisht from our sight. Ham. Tis very strange. Hora. As I doe liue my honor’d Lord tis true And we did thinke it writ downe in our dutie To let you knowe of it. Ham. Indeede Sirs but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to night? All. We doe my Lord. Ham. Arm’d say you? All. Arm’d my Lord. Ham. From top to toe? All. My Lord from head to foote. Ham. Then sawe you not his face. Hora. O yes my Lord, he wore his beauer vp. Ham. What look’t he frowningly? Hora. A countenance more insorrow then in anger. Ham. Pale, or red? Hora. Nay very pale. Ham. And fixt his eyes vpon you? Hora. Most constantly. Ham. I would I had beene there. Hora. It would have much amaz’d you. Ham. Very like, stayd it long? Hora. While one with moderate hast might tell a hundreth. Both. Longer, longer. Hora. Not when I saw’t. Ham. His beard was grissl’d, no. Hora. It was as I haue seene it in his life A sable siluer’d. Ham. Prince of Denmarke. Ham. I will watch tonigh Perchaunce twill walke againe. Hora. I warn’t it will. Ham. If it assume my noble fathers person, Ile speake to it though hell it selfe should gape And bid me hold my peace; I pray you all If you haue hetherto conceald this sight Let it be tenable in your silence still, And what someuer els shall hap to night, Giue it an vnderstanding but no tongue, I will requite your loues, so farre you well: Vppon the platforme twixt a leauen and twelfe Ile visite you. All. Our dutie to your honor. Exeunt. Ham. Your loues, as mine to you, farwell. My fathers spirit (in armes) all is not well, I doubt some foule play, would the night were come, Till then sit still my soule, fonde deedes will rise Though all the earth ore-whelme them to mens eyes. Exit. Enter Laertes, and Ophelia his Sister. Laer. My necessaries are inbarckt, farwell, And sister, as the winds giue benefit And conuay, in assistant doe not sleepe But let me heere from you. Opbe. Doe you doubt that? Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his fauour, Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood A Violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweete, not lasting, The perfume and suppliance of a minute No more. Ophe. No more but so. Laer. Thinke it no more. For nature cressant does not growe alone In thewes and bulkes, but as this temple waxes The inward seruice of the minde and soule Growes wide withall, perhapes he loues you now, And now no soyle nor cautell doth besmirch The vertue of his will, but you must feare, C3 His The Tragedie of Hamlet His greatnes wayd, his will is not his owne, He may not as vnualewed persons doe, Carue for himselfe, for on his choise depends The safty and health of this whole state, And therefore must his choise be circumscribd Vnto the voyce and yeelding of that body Whereof he is the head, then if he saies he loues you, It fits your wisdome so farre to belieue it As he in his particuler act and place May giue his saying deede, which is no further Then the maine voyce of Denmarke goes withall. Then way what losse your honor may sustaine If with too credent eare you list his songs Or loose your hart, or your chaste treasure open To his vnmastred importunity. Feare it Ophelia, feare it my deare sister, And keepe you in the reare of your affection Out of the shot and danger of dere, “The chariest maide is prodigall inough If she vnmaske her butie to the Moone “Vertue it selfe scapes not calumnious strokes “The canker gaules the infants of the spring Too oft before their buttons be disclos’d, And in the morne and liquid dewe of youth Contagious blastments are most iminent, Be wary then, best safety lies in feare, Youth to it selfe rebels, though non els neare. Ophe. I shall the effect of this good lesson keepe As watchman to my hart, but good my brother Doe not as some vngracious pastors doe, Showe me the step and thorny way to heauen Whiles a puft, and reckles libertine Himselfe the primrose path of dalience treads. And reakes not his owne reed. Enter Polonius. Laer. O feare me not, I stay too long, but here my father comes A double blessing, is a double grace, Occasion smiles vpon a second leaue. Pol. Yet heere, Laertes? a bord, a bord for shame, The Prince of Denmarke. The wind sits in the shoulder of your saile, And you are stayed for, there my blessing with thee, And these fewe precepts in thy memory Looke thou character, giue thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any vnproportion’d thought his act, Be thou familier, but by no meanes vulgar, Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them vnto thy soule with hoopes of steele, But doe not dull thy palme with entertainment Of each new hatcht vnfledgd courage, beware Of entrance to a quarrell, but being in, Bear’t that th’opposed may beware of thee, Giue euery man thy eare, but fewe thy voyce, Take each mans censure, but reserue thy iudgement, Costly thy habite as thy purse can by, But not exprestin fancy; rich not gaudy, For the apparrell oft proclaimes the man And they in Fraunce of the best ranck and station, Are of a most select and generous, chiefe in that: Neither a borrower nor a lender boy, For loue oft looses both it selfe, and friend, And borrowing dulleth edge of husbandry; This aboue all, to thine owne selfe be true And it must followe as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man: Farwell, my blessing season this in thee. Laer. Most humbly doe I take my leaue my Lord. Pol. The time inuests you goe, your seruants tend. Laer. Farwell Ophelia, and remember well What I haue sayd to you. Ophe. Tis in my memory lockt And you your selfe shall keepe the key of it. Laer. Farwell. Exit Laertes. Pol. What ist Ophelia he hath sayd to you? Ophelia So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet, Pol. Marry well bethought Tis tolde me he hath very oft of late Giuen priuate time to you, and you your selfe Haue of your audience beene most free and bountious, If The Tragedie of Hamlet If it be so, as so tis put on me, And that in way of caution, I must tell you, You doe not vnderstand your selfe so cleerely As it behooues my daughter, and your honor, What is betweene you giue me vp the truth, Ophe. He hath my Lord of late made many tender: Of his affection to me. Pol. Affection, puh, you speake like a greene girle Vnsifted in such perrilous circumstance, Do you belieue his tenders as you call them? Ophe. I doe not knowe my Lord, what I should thinke. Pol. Marry I will teach you, thinke your selfe a babie That you haue tane these tenders for true pay Which are not sterling, tender your selfe more dearely Or (not to crack the winde of the poore phrase Wrong it thus) you’l tender me a foole. Ophe. My Lord he hath importun’d me with loue In honorable fashion. Pol. I, fashion you may call it, go to, go to. Ophe. And hath giuen countenance to his speech My Lord, with almost all the holy vowes of heauen. Pol. Ay, springs to catch wood-cockes, I doe knowe When the blood burnes, how prodigall the soule Lends the tongue vowes, these blazes daughter Giuing more light then heate, extinct in both Euen 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 intreatments at a higher rate Than a commaund to parle; for Lord Hamlet, Belieue so much in him that he is young, And with a larger tider may he walke Then may be giuen you: in fewe Ophelia, Doe not belieue his vowes, for they are brokers Not of that die which their investments showe But meere imploratotors of vnholy suites Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds The better to beguide: this is for all, I would not in plaine tearmes from this time foorth Haue Prince of Denmarke. Haue you so slaunder any moment leasure As to giue words or talke with the Lord Hamlet, Looke too’t I charge you, come your wayes. Ophe. I shall obey my Lord. Exeunt. Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus. Ham. The ayre bites shroudly, it is very colde. Hora. It is nipping, and an eager ayre. Ham. What houre now? Hora. I thinke it lackes of twelfe. Mar. No, it is strooke. Hora. Indeed; I heard it not, it then drawes neere the season, Wherein the spirit held his wont to walke A flourish of trumpets and 2. peeces goes of. What does this meane my Lord? Ham. The King doth wake to night and takes his rowse. Keepes wassell and the swaggring vp-spring reeles: And as he draines his drafts of Rennish downe, The kettle drumme, and trumpet, thus bray out The triumph of his pledge. Hora. Is it a custome? Ham. I marry ist, But to my minde, though I am natiue heere And to the manner borne, it is a custome More honourd in the breach, then the obseruance. This heauy headed reueale east and west Makes vs tradust and taxed of other nations, They clip vs drunkards, and with Swinish phrase Soyle our addition, and indeede it takes From our atchieuements, though perform’d at height The pith and marrow of our attribute, So oft it chaunces in particuler 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 ore-grow’th of some complextion Oft breaking downe the pales and forts of reason, Or by some habit, that too much ore-leauens The forme of plausiue manners, that these men Carrying I say the stamp of one defect D. Being The Tragedie of Hamlet Being Natures liuery, or Fortunes starre, His vertues els be they as pure as grace, As infinite as man may vndergoe, Shall in the generall censure take corruption From that particuler fault: the dram of eale Doth all the noble substance of a doubt To his owne scandale. Enter Ghost. Horat. Looke my Lord it comes. Ham. Angels and Ministers of grace defend vs: Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin damn’d, Bring with thee ayres from heauen, or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked, or charitable, Thou com’st in such a questionable shape, That I will speake to thee, Ile call thee Hamlet, King, father, royall Dane, o answere mee, Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell Why thy canoniz’d bones hearsed in death Haue burst their cerements? why the Sepulcher, Wherein we saw thee quietly interr’d Hath op’t his ponderous and marble iawes, To cast thee vp againe? what may this meane That thou dead corse, againe in compleat steele Reuisits thus the glimses of the Moone, Making night hideous, and we fooles of nature So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches of our soules, Say why is this, wherefore, what should we doe? Beckins. Hora. It beckins you to goe away with it As if it some impartment did desire To you alone. Marc. Looke with what courteous action It waues you to a more remooued ground, But do not goe with it. Hora. No, by no meanes. Ham. It will not speake, then I will followe it. Hora. Doe not my Lord. Ham. Why what should be the feare, I doe not set my life at a pinnes fee, And Prince of Denmarke. And for my soule, what can it doe to that Being a thing immortall as it selfe; It waues me forth againe, Ile followe it. Hora. What if it tempt you toward the flood my Lord, Or to the dreadfull somnet of the cleefe That bettles ore his base into the sea, And there assume some other horrable forme Which might depriue your soueraigntie of reason, And draw you into madnes, thinke of it, The very place puts toyes of desperation Without more motiue, into euery braine That lookes so many fadoms to the sea And heares it rore beneath. Ham. It waues me still, Goe on, Ile followe thee. Mar. You shall not goe my Lord. Ham. Hold of your hands. Hora. Be rul’d, you shall not goe. Ham. My fate cries out And makes each petty arture in this body As hardy as the Nemeon Lyons nerue; Still am I cald, vnhand me Gentlemen By heauen, Ile make a ghost of him that lets me, I say away, goe on, Ile followe thee. Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet. Hora. He waxes desperate with imagion. Mar. Lets followe, tis not fit thus to obey him. Hora. Haue after, to what issue will this come? Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Denmarke. Hora. Heauen will direct it. Mar. Nay lets follow him. Exeunt. Enter Ghost, and Hamlet. Ham. Whether wilt thou leade me, speake, Ile goe no further. Ghost. Marke me. Ham. I will. Ghost. My houre is almost come When I to sulphrus and tormenting flames Must render vp my selfe. Ham. Alas poore Ghost! D2 Ghost. The Tragedie of Hamlet Ghost. Pitty me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall vnfold. Ham. Speake, I am bound to heare. Ghost. So art thou to reuenge, when thou shalt heare. Ham. What? Ghost. I am thy fathers spirit, Doomd for a certaine tearme to walke the night, And for the day confind to fast in fires, Till the foule crimes done in my dayes of nature Are burnt and purg’d away: but that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison house, I could a tale vnfolde whose lightest word Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particuler haire to stand an end, Like quils vpon the fearefull Porpentine, But this eternall blazon must not be To eares of flesh and blood, list, list, o list: If thou did’st euer thy deare father loue. Ham. O God. Ghost. Reuenge his foul, and most vnnaturall murther. Ham. Murther. Ghost. Murther most foule, as in the best it is, But this most foule, strange and vnnaturall. Ham. Haste me to know’t, that I with wings as swift As meditation, or the thoughts of loue May sweepe to my reuenge. Ghost. I find thee apt, And duller shouldst thou be then the fat weede That rootes it selfe in ease on Lethe wharffe, Would’st thou not sturre in this; now, Hamlet heare, Tis giuen out, that sleeping in my Orchard, A Serpent stung me, so the whole eare of Denmarke Is by a forged processe of my death Ranckely abusde: but knowe thou noble Youth, The Serpent that did sting thy fathers life Now weares his Crowne. Ham. O my propheticke soule! my Vncle? Ghost Prince of Denmarke. Ghost. I that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wits, with trayterous gifts, O wicked wit, and giftes that haue the power So to seduce; wonne to his shamefull lust The will of my most seeming vertuous Queene; O Hamlet, what falling off was there From me whose loue was of that dignitie That it went hand in hand, euen with the vowe I made to her in marriage, and to decline Vppon a wretch whose naturall gifts were poore, To those of mine; but vertue as it neuer will be mooued, Though lewdnesse court it in a shape of heauen So but though to a radiant Angle linckt, Will sort it selfe in a celestiall bed And pray on garbage. But soft, me thinkes I sent the morning ayre, Briefe let me be; sleeping within my Orchard, My custome alwayes of the afternoone, Vpon my secure houre, thy Vncle stole With iuyce of cursed Hebona in a viall, And in the porches of my eares did poure The leaprous distilment, whose effect Holds such an enmitie with blood of man, That swift as quicksiluer it courses through The naturall gates and allies of the body, And with a sodain vigour it doth possesse And curde like eager droppings into milke, The thin and wholsome blood; so did it mine, And a most instant tetter barckt about Most Lazerlike with vile and lothsome crust All my smooth body. Thus was I sleeping by a brothers hand, Of life, of Crowne, of Queene at once dispatcht, Cut off euen in the blossomes of my sinne, Vnhuzled, disappointed, vnanueld, No reckning made, but sent to my account Withall my imperfections on my head, O horrible, o horrible, most horrible. If thou hast nature in thee beare it not, D3 Let The Tragedie of Hamlet Let not the royall bed of Denmarke be A couch for luxury and damned incest. But how someuer thou pursues this act, Tain’t not thy minde, nor let thy soule contriue Against thy mother ought, leaue her to heauen. And to those thornes that in her bosom lodge To prick and sting her, fare thee well at once, The Gloworme shewes the matine to be neere And gins to pale his vneffectuall fire, Adiew, adiew, adiew, remember me. Ham. O all you host of heauen, o earth, what els, And shall I coupple hell, o fie, hold, hold, my hart, And you, my sinnowes, growe not instant old, But beare me swiftly vp; remember thee, I thou poore Ghost whiles memory holds aseate In this distracted globe, remember thee, Yea, from the table of my memory Ile wipe away all triuiall fond records, All sawes of bookes, all formes, all pressures past That youth and obseruation coppied there, And thy commandement all alone shall liue, Within the booke and volume of my braine Vnmixt with baser matter, yes by heauen, O most pernicious woman. O villaine, villaine, smiling damned villaine, My tables, meet it is I set it downe That one may smile, and smile, and be a villaine, At least I am sure it may be so in Denmarke. So Vncle, there you are, now to my word, It is adew, adew, remember me. I have sworn’t. Enter Horatio, and Marcellus Hora. My Lord, my Lord. Mar. Lord Hamlet. Hora. Heauens secure him. Ham. So be it. Mar. Illo, ho, ho, my Lord. Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy, come, and come. Mar. Prince of Denmarke Mar. How i’st my noble Lord? Hora. What newes my Lord? Ham. O, wonderfull. Hora. Good my Lord tell it. Ham. No, you will reueale it. Hora. Not I my Lord by heauen. Mar. Nor I my Lord. Ham. How say you then, would hart of man once thinke it, But you’le be secret. Booth. I by heauen. Ham. There’s neuer a villaine, Dwelling in all Denmarke But hee’s an arrant knaue. Hora. There needes no Ghost my Lord, come from the graue To tell vs this. Ham. Why right, you are in the right, And so without more circumstance at all I hold it fit that we shake hands and part, You, as your busines and desire shall poynt you, For euery man hath busines and desire Such as it is, and for my owne poore part I will goe pray. Hora. These are but wilde and whurling words my Lord. Ham. I am sorry they offend you hartily, Yes faith hartily. Hora. There’s no offence my Lord. Ham. Yes by Saint Patrick but there is Horatio, And much offence to, touching this vision heere, It is an honest Ghost that let me tell you, For your desire to knowe what is betweene vs Oremastret as you may, and now good friends, As you are friends, schollers, and souldiers, Giue me one poore request. Hora. What i’st my Lord, we will. Ham. Neuer make knowne what you haue seene to night. Booth. My Lord we will not. Ham. Nay but swear’t. Hora. In faith my Lord not I. Marcellus Nor I my Lord in faith. Ham. The Tragedie of Hamlet Ham. Vppon my sword. Mar. We haue sworne my Lord already. Ham. Indeede vppon my sword, indeed. Ghost cries under the Stage. Ghost. Sweare. Ham. Ha, ha, boy, say’st thou so, art thou there, trupenny? Come on, you heare this fellowe in the Sellerige, Consent to sweare. Hora. Propose the oath my Lord. Ham. Neuer to speake of this that you haue seene Sweare by my sword. Ghost. Sweare. Ham. Hic, & vbique, then weele shift our ground: Come hether Gentlemen And lay your hands againe vpon my sword, Sweare by my sword Neuer to speake of this that you haue heard. Ghost. Sweare by his sword. Ham. Wellsayd olde Mole, can’st worke i’th earth so fast, A worthy Pioner, once more remooue good friends. Hora. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange. Ham. And therefore as a stranger giue it welcome, There are more things in heauen and earth Horatio Then are dream’t of in your philosophie, but come Heere as before, neuer so helpe you mercy, (How strange or odde so mere I beare my selfe, As I perchance heereafter shall thinke meet, To put an Anticke disposition on That you at such times seeing me, neuer shall With armes incombred thus, or this head shake, Or by pronouncing of some doubtfull phrase, As, well, well, we knowe, or we could and if we would, Or if we list to speake, or there be and if they might, Or such ambiguous giuing out, to note) That you knowe ought of me, this doe sweare, So grace and mercy at your most neede helpe you. Ghost. Sweare. Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit: so Gentlemen, Withall my loue I doe commend me to you, And Prince of Denmarke. And what so poore a man as Hamlet is, May doe t’expresse his loue and frending to you God willing shall not lack, let vs goe in together, And still your fingers on your lips I pray, The time is out of ioynt, o cursed spight That euer I was borne to set it right. Nay come, lets goe together. Exeunt. Enter old Polonius, with his man or two. Pol. Giue him this money, and these notes Reynaldo. Rey. I will my Lord. Pol. You shall doe meruiles wisely good Reynaldo, Before you visite him, to make inquire Of his behauior. Rey. My Lord, I did intend it. Pol. Mary well said, very well said; looke you sir, Enquire me first what Danskers are in Parris, And how, and who, what meanes, and where they keepe, What companie, at what expence, and finding By this encompasment, and drift of question That they doe know my sonne, come you more neerer Then your perticuler demaunds will tuch it, Take you as t’were some distant knowledge of him, As thus, I know his father, and his friends, And in part him, doe you marke this Reynaldo? Rey. I, very well my Lord. Pol. And in part him, but you may say, not well, But y’ft be he I meane, he’s veery wilde, Adicted so and so, and there put on him What forgeries you please, marry none so ranck As may dishonour him, take heede of that, But sir, such wanton, wild, and vsuall slips, As are companions noted and most knowne To youth and libertie. Rey. As gaming my Lord. Pol. I, or drinking, fencing, swearing, Quarrelling, drabbing, you may goe so far. Rey. My Lord, that would dishonour him. Pol. Fayth as you may season it in the charge. E. You The Tragedie of Hamlet You must not put another scandell on him, That he is open to incontinencie, That’s not my meaning, but breath his faults so quently That they may seeme the taints of libertie, The flash and out-breake of a fierie mind, A sauagenes in vnreclamed blood, Of generall assault. Rey. But my good Lord. Pol. Wherefore should you doe this? Rey. I my lord, I would know that. Pol. Marry sir, heer’s my drift, And I belieue it is a fetch of wit, You laying these slight sallies on my sonne As t’were a thing a little soyld with working, Marke you, your partie in conuerse, him you would sound Hauing euer seene in the prenominat crimes The youth you breathe of guiltie, be assur’d He closes with you in this consequence, Good sir (or so,) or friend, or gentleman, According to the phrase, or the addistion Of man and country. Rey. Very good my Lord. Pol. And then sir doos a this, a doos, what was I about to say? By the masse, I was about to say something, Where did I leaue? Rey. At closes in the consequence. Pol. At closes in the consequence, I 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 tooke in’s rowse, There falling out at Tennis, or perchance I saw him enter such a house of sale, Videlizet, a brothell, or so foorth, see you now, Your bait of falshood take this carpe of truth, And thus doe we of wisedome, and of reach, With windlesses and with assaies of bias, By indirections find directions out, So by my former lecture and aduise Shall Prince of Denmarke. Shall you my sonne; you haue me, haue you not? Rey. My Lord, I haue. Pol. God buy ye, far ye well. Rey. Good my Lord. Pol. Obserue his inclination in your selfe. Rey. I shall, my Lord. Pol. And let him ply his musique. Rey. Well my Lord. Exit Rey. Enter Ophelia. Pol. Farewell. How now, Ophelia, whats the matter? Ophe. Oh my Lord, my Lord, I haue beene so affrighted, Pol. With what i’th name of God? Ophe. My Lord, as I was sowing in my closset, Lord Hamlet with his doublet all vnbrac’d, No hat vpon his head, his stockins fouled, Vngartred, and downe gyued to his ancle, Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a looke so pittious in purport As if he had been loosed out of hell To speake of horrors, he comes before me. Pol. Mad for thy loue? Oph. My Lord I doe not know, But truly I doe feare it. Pol. What said he? Ophe. He tooke me by the wrist, and held me hard, Then goes he to the length of all his arme, And with his other hand thus ore his brow, He falls to such perusall of my face As a would draw it, long stayd he so, At last, a little shaking of mine arme, And thrice his head thus wauing vp and downe, He raisd a sigh so pittious and profound As it did seeme to shatter all his bulke, And end his beeing; that done, he lets me goe, And with his head ouer his shoulder turn’d Hee seem’d to find his way without his eyes, For out adoores he went without theyr helps, And to the last bended their light on me. E2 Pol. The Tragedie of Hamlet Pol. Come, goe with mee, I will goe seeke the King, This is the very extacie of loue, Whose violent propertie fordoos it selfe And leades the will to desperat vndertakings As oft as any passions vnder heauen That dooes afftict our natures: I am sorry, What, haue you giuen him any hard words of late? Ophe. No my good Lord, but as you did commaund I did repell his letters, and denied His accesse to me. Pol. That hath made him mad. I am sorry, that with better heede and iudgement I had not coted him, I fear’d he did but trifle And meant to wrack thee, but beshrow my Iealousie: By heauen it is as proper to our age To cast beyond our selues in our opinions, As it is common for the younger sort To lack discretion; come, goe we to the King, This must be knowne, which beeing kept close, might moue More griefe to hide, then hate to vtter loue, Come. Exeunt. Flourish.Enter King and Queene, Rosencraus and Guyldensterne. King. Welcome, deere Rosencraus and Guyldensterne, Moreouer, that we much did long to see you, The need we haue to vse you did prouoke Our hastie sending, something haue you heard Of Hamlets transformation, so call it, Sith nor th’exterior, nor the inward man Resembles that it was, what it should be, More then his fathers death, that thus hath put him So much from th’vnderstanding of himselfe I cannot dreame of: I entreate you both That, beeing of so young days brought vp with him, And sith so nabored to his youth and hauior, That you voutsafe your rest heere in our Court Some little time, so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather So Prince of Denmarke. So much as from occasion you may gleane, Whether ought to vs vnknowne afflicts him thus, That opend lyes within our remedie. Quee. Good gentlemen, he hath much talkt of you, And sure I am, two men there is not liuing To whom he more adheres, if it will please you To shew vs so much gentry and good will, As to expend your time with vs a while, For the supply and profit of our hope, Your visitation shall receiue such thanks As fits a Kings remembrance. Ros. Both your Maiesties Might by the soueraigne power you haue of vs, Put your dread pleasures more into commaund Then to entreatie. Guyl. But we both obey. And heere giue vp our selues in the full bent, To lay our seruice freely at your feete To be commaunded. King. Thanks Rosencraus, and gentle Guyldensterne. Quee. Thanks Guyldensterne, and gentle Rosencraus. And I beseech you instantly to visite My too much changed sonne, goe some of you And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. Guyl. Heauens make our presence and our practices Pleasant and helpfull to him. Quee. I Amen. Exeunt Ros. and Guyld. Enter Polonius. Pol. Th’embassadors from Norway my good Lord, Are ioyfully returnd. King. Thou still hast been the father of good newes. Pol. Haue I my Lord? I assure my good Liege I hold my dutie as I hold my soule, Both to my God, and to my gracious King; And I doe thinke, or els this braine of mine Hunts not the trayle of policie so sure As it hath vsd to doe, that I haue found The very cause of Hamlets lunacie. King. O speake of that, that do I long to heare. E3 Pol. The Tragedie of Hamlet Pol. Giue first admittance to th’embassadors, My newes shall be the fruite to that great feast. King. Thy selfe doe grace to them, and bring them in. He tells me my deere Gertrard he hath found The head and source of all your ssonnes distemper. Quee. I doubt it is no other but the maine His fathers death, and our hastie marriage. Enter Embassadors. King. Well, we shall sift him, welcome my good friends, Say Voltemand, what from our brother Norway? Vol. Most faire returne of greetings and desires; Vpon our first, he sent out to suppresse His Nephews leuies, which to him appeard To be a preparation gainst the Pollacke, But better lookt into, he truly found It was against your highnes, whereat greeu’d That so his sicknes, age, and impotence Was falsly borne in hand, sends out arrests On Fortenbrasse, which he in breefe obeyes, Receiues rebuke from Norway, and in fine, Makes vow before his Vncle neuer more To giue th’aay of Armes again your Maieie: King. It likes vs well, And at our more considered time, wee’le read, Answer, and thinke vpon this busines: Meane time, we thanke you for your well tooke labour, Goe to your rest, at night weele feast together, Most welcome home. Exeunt Embassadors. Pol. This busines is well ended. My Prince of Denmarke. My Liege and Maddam, to expostulate What maiestie should be, what dutie is, Why day is day, night, night, and time is time, Were nothing but to wast night, day, and time, Therefore breuitie is the soule of wit, And tediousnes the lymmes and outward florishes, I will be briefe, your noble onne is mad: Quee. More matter with lesse art. Pol. Maddam, I sweare I vse no art at all, That hee’s mad tis true, tis true, tis pitty, And pitty tis tis true, a foolish figure, But farewell it, for I will vse no art. Mad let vs graunt him then, and now remaines That we nd out the caue of this ee, Quee. Came this from Hamlet to her? Pol. Good Maddam stay awhile, I will be faithfull, Doubt thou the starres are fire, Letter. Pol. This in obedience hath my daughter showne me, And more about hath his solicitings As The Tragedie of Hamlet As they fell out by time, by meanes, and place, King. But how hath e receiu’d his loue?