a. J '^'ncr^ (hm The Prompt - Book. Edited by Williafn Winter. Shakespeai^e s Tragedy Of 7^ Hamlet t^ As Presented by Edwin Booth Lord Hamlet is a Prince. "The expectancy atid rose of the fair state. " There ' s soiizething in his soul O'er which his melaticJioly sits on brood.' " The native hue of resolution Is sicklied der with the pale cast of thought. ' The time is out of joint: O, cursed spite That ever I was born to set it right." New - York : Printed, for Wiliiaffi Winter, by Francis Hart 6-= Company, 6j and 6^ Murray Street. 1878. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, By William Winter, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. [(Cftirb 4Sbition.] Press of 'Francis Hart & Co. CKJ preface. 'nr^Hls version of '''-Hamlet,''' ivhich^ in its construction J- and embellish?nent, is unlike all others, has been made for practical use on the stage. It is shorter tha?i the original by about one thousand lines. The passages excluded are those which, it is thought, anight prove tedious in the repre- sentation, and which, therefore, 7?iay well be spared. Among them are the episode of Fortinbras, the colloquy between Polo7iius and Rey?ialdo, and the ititerview betwixt Hamlet w^ and the Norwegian soldiers. Certai?i speeches which moment- arily arrest the action of the piece — such as that of Horatio on the prepa7'ations for war, and that of Hamlet on the custom of revelry, in Denmark — have beeji rejected, as impediments to directness of dramatic effect. The excisions also include dialogues, such as those at the beginning of the fourth act, which are but the descriptive repetition of action that has already been shown, or the narratiofi of incident that has been distinctly implied. Passages which do but amplify and reiterate ideas that have previously been made sufficiently clear for the practical purposes of the stage have likeiuise been discarded. The senility of jRosencrantz and 95v'583 Guiidejisteni, for example^ is known weil enough without their candied and fawning speeches to the kifig, after the play -scene J and both Hamlefs mental vacillatiofi and the springs of it a7'e plainly evident lofig before he reaches his monologue on the expedition of Fortinbras. In a few instances lines of the origi7ial have been transposed : in a very few instances words have been altered — but 7iever to the perversion of the 7neaning. Coarse phrases have been cast aside, or softejied, wherever they occur. In the fourth act, Marcellus, instead of Horatio, has been made to announce the mad?iess of Ophelia, and to attend upon her — for the reason that had Horatio bee?i aware of her calamity he must have communicated it to Hamlet prior to their encounter with the funej'al procession in the church-yard. Care has been particularly take7i to 077iit 7iothi7ig that is esse7itial to the expositio7i of Ha77ilefs 77iad7iess, and of the 77te7ital co7idition that leads hi77i to assume it. " Ha7nlet's wild7iess," says Cole7'idge, "is but half false: he plays that subtle trick of pretendi7ig to act, only whe7i he is very near really bei7ig what he acts'^ The point is a subtle 07ie, and of i7n77ie7ise impor- tance to the comprehe7isio7i of the character. It has been steadily kept in view j a7id the clearness and fulbiess of all the characters i77iplicated have bee7i studiously sought, i7i the 7iecessary co7ide7isatio7i of the piece. I/i brief, a conscie7itious effort has here been ?jiade to co7istruct an acti7ig versio7i of ^ Ha7nlet'" which yet should escape the reproach of having ga7'bled the 07iginal. " The theat7ical copies of Shakespeare's plays,^' says Charles Cow den Cla7'ke, "are so 7iotoriously abridged that it is i77ipossible, by the7n, to judge fairly of the poefs deli7ieation of character, who never wrote a li7ie that did 7 lot harmonize with, and te7id to define, the portrait he was Ii77i7nng.^' — To meet the exigencies of the stage ivithout sacrificbig the beauties of the author^ and to presejit Hamlet clearly without keeping him too lo?ig in the picblic eye, will ?iof, at least, be thought an i?ijudicious endeavor. The tragedy is here set forth precisely as it is presented by Edwin Booth : that is to say, with the arrangeme?it of scenes and the stage- directions made and used by him. The Appendix, for which, of course, the Editor is alone responsible to critical Judgment, contains I'emarks upon the character and information respecting the tragedy of ^'- Hamlet^'' which it is hoped may prove useful — at least by way of suggestion — to theatrical students. w. n: JVew- York, Feb. yth, 1878. ^'^ Shakespeare is a being of a higher nature, to whom I do but look up, and whom it is my part to worship a7id to honour." — Goethe. " Once more assay The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearean fruit."— YLeKTS. ' ' Gervinus remarks that whenever the name of Shakespeare is mentioned, the play of ' Hamlet' first comes to remembrance : and John Kemble ob- served that in every copy of Shakespeare s works it appeared that 'Hamlet ' had been the play most read."— Dr. Conolly. Flame trembles most ivhen it doth highest rise." — Davenant. ' ' We have here an oak planted in a costly vase, fit only to receive lovely flowers within its bosom : the roots spread, and burst the vase." — GoETHE, " Self disgust Gnaws at the roots of being, and doth hang A heavy sickness on the beams of day. Cursed ! accursed be the freaks of nature. That mar us from ourselves." — HoRNE. ' ' He has the desire and the power to accomplish great things, but it must be in obedience to the dictates of his ozvn thoughts, and by his own independ- ent, original, and creative energy. * * * The poor plans and intetitions of man do not miscarry through the weakness of their authors, but their base- less projects are also, by an httnnsic necessity, as frequently crossed and frustrated by the equally baseless empire of chance." — Ulrici. Wide yaw?is the grave ; dull tolls the solemn bell ; Dark lie the dead; and long the last farewell."— Vsli-LSOli. ^er^on^ itepre^ehtcb* Claudius, King of Denmark. Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, Nephew to Claudius. Ghost of King Hamlet, Father to the Prince. polonius, the lord chamberlain. Laertes, Son to Polonius. Horatio, Friend to Hamlet. rosencrantz, | GUILDENSTERN, \ COURTIERS. OSRIC, J Marcellus, ] J> Officers. Bernardo, j Francisco, a Soldier. Several Players. First and Second Grave-diggers. A Priest. Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, Mother to Hamlet. Ophelia, Daughter to Polonius. Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Pages, etc. ^late anb €x\m. Scene. — Elsinore^ in Denmark. Period. — The Eleventh Cetitury. Time of Action. — Between Two and Three Months. HAMLET. . ^" & jr. . j Elsinore. a Platform before the SJCene Jfim. ^ Castle. Full Stage. Moonlight. [jFra/idsco, as sentinel on guards discovered at his post. Etiter to him Bernardo. Ber. Who 's there ? Fran. Nay, answer me ; stand, and unfold yourself. Ber. Long hve the king ! Fran. Bernardo ? Ber. He. Fra?i. You come most carefully upon your hour. Ber. 'T is now struck twelve ; get thee to bed, Francisco. Fran. For this relief much thanks : 't is bitter cold, And I am sick at heart. v"^' HAMLET. Ber. Have you had quiet guard ? Fran. Not a mouse stirring. Ber. Well, good night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. Fran. I think I hear them. — Stand, ho ! Who 's there ? \Exit Francisco. Horatio. Friends to this ground. Mar. And liegemen to the Dane. Fran. Give you good night. Mar. O, farewell, honest soldier : Who hath relieved you ? Fran. Bernardo hath my place. Give you good night. Mar. Holla ! Bernardo ! [Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Ber. ^ Spoken within. Say. What ! is Horatio there ? Horatio. . A piece of him. HAMLET. 1 1 Ber. Welcome, Horatio : — welcome, good Marcellus. Mar. What ! has this thing appeared again to-night ? Ber. I have seen nothing. Mar. Horatio says 't is 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 nigh^; That, if again this apparition come. He may approve our eyes, and speak to it. Horatio. Tush, tush, 't will not appear. Ber. Come, let us once again assail your ears, That are so fortified against our story, What we two nights have seen. Horatio. Well, let us hear Bernardo speak of this. Ber. Last night of all. When yond' same star that 's westward from the pole Had made his course to illume that part of heaven Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, The bell then beating one, — Mar. Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again ! [Enter Ghost frovi Castle c. HAMLET. 12 Ber. In the same figure, like the king that 's dead. Looks it not hke the king ? Horatio. Most like : — it harrows me with fear and wonder. Ber. It would be spoke to. Mar. Speak to it, Horatio. Horatio. 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 ! Mar. It is offended. Ber. See, it stalks away ! Horatio. Stay ! speak, speak ! I charge thee, speak ! \Exit Ghost R. I.E. Mar. 'T is gone, and will not answer. Ber. How now, Horatio ! you tremble, and look pale : Is not this something more than fantasy ? What think you on 't ? Horatio. Before my God, I might not this believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes. HA^ILET. 13 Mar. Is it not like the king ? Horatio. As thou art to thyself: Such was the very armour he had on When he the ambitious Norway combated ; So frowned he once, when, in an angry parle. He smote the sledded Polack on the ice. 'T is strange. Mar. Thus, twice before, and just at this dead hour, With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. Horatio. In what particular thought to work I know not ; But, in the gross and scope of my opinion. This bodes some strange eruption to our state. But, soft, behold ! lo where it comes again ! [Re-enter Ghost r. 2. e. I '11 cross it, though it blast me. — Stay, illusion I 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, O, speak ! Or jf thou hast uphoarded in thy life Extorted treasure in the womb of earth. For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death. Speak of it : — stay, and speak ! Mar. 'T is gone. [Exit Ghost L. I. E. Ber. It was about to speak when the cock crew. HAMLET. Horatio. 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, The extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated. This bird of dawning singeth all night long : And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad ; The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike ; No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm ; So hallowed and so gracious is the time. But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill. Break we our watch up : and, by my advice, Let us impart what we have seen to-night Unto young Hamlet ; for, upon my life. This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. \ExeHfit c. Ak.»»» A^..^^"»* S Elsinore. a Room of State in the Sctiw t,WDnlr. j Castle. \Ejiter the Kifig, Quee?t, Polonius^ Lacrtrs. Lords^ and Atte7idants. King. 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 diS(5rfe'tioh fought with nature, That we with wisest sorrow think on him, ToQjether with remembrance of ourselves. HAMLET. I^ Therefore, our sometime sister, now our queen, The imperial jointress of this warUke state, Have we, as 't were with a defeated joy, — Taken to wife : nor have we herein barred Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along : — for all, our thanks. And now, Laertes, what 's the news with you ? \Laertes kneels. 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 ? Laer. Dread my 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. King. Have you your father's leave ? What says Polonius ? Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave By laboursome petition ; and, at last. Upon his will I sealed my hard consent : I do beseech you, give him leave to go. King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes ; time be thine. And thy best graces spend it at thy will ! — \Ejiter Hamlet c. But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son, — HAMLET. l6 Hamlet. \Asidc. A little more than kin and less than kind. Ki?ig. How is it that the clouds still hang on you ? Hamlet. Not so, my lord ; I am too much i' the sun. p" - ^ [ The King, Polonius, and Laertes retire r. Queen, Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not forever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust : Thou know'st 't is common, — all that live must die. Passing through nature to eternity. Hamlet. Ay, madam, it is common, f^'^-*^, lO(%^^- Queen. If it be. Why seems it so particular with thee ? Hamlet. Seems, madam ! nay, it is ; I know not seems. 'T is not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black. No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected haviour of the visage. Together with all forms, modes, shows 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 passeth show ; These but the trappings and the suits of woe. [jExit Laertes, leaving the King and FoloJiius. The Kimr advaiices. HAMLET. King. 'T is 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 obsec^uious sorrow ; but to persever In obstinate condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornness ; 't is unmanly grief : i^ylj: shows a will most incorrect to heaven. ^^Ve pray you, throw to earth This unprevaiHng woe ; and think of us As of a father : for let the world take note. You are the most immediate to our throne ; Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son. Queen . Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet : I pray thee, stay with us ; go not to Wittenberg. Harnlei. I shall in all my best obey you, madam. Kitig. Why, 't is a loving and a fair reply : Be as ourself in Denmark. — Madam, come. [Folonius advances to yl. i. e. This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to my heart : in grace whereof. No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day, But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell ; x\nd the king's rouse the heavens shall bruit again^ Re-speaking earthly thunder. [March. Exeunt all except Hamlet. Hamlet. O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew ! Or that the Everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter ! O God ! O God ! HAxMLET. lii How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world ! Fie on 't ! O, fie ! 't is an un weeded garden. That grows to seed ; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this ! 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 would 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 1 — A little month ; or ere those shoes were old With which she followed my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears ; — why she, even she, — O 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. It is not, nor it cannot come to, good : But break, my heart, — for I must hold my tongue ! \E71ter Horatio^ Marcellus, a fid Bernardo c. Horatio. Hail to your lordship ! I am glad to see you well : Hamlet. Horatio, — or I do forget mysel-f. Horatio. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. Hamlet. Sir, my good friend ; I '11 change that name with you : And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio ? — Marcellus ? Mar. My good lord, — HAMLET. 19 Hamlet. I am very glad to see you. — Good even, sir. — But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg ? Horatio. A truant disposition, good my lord. Hamlet. 1 would not hear your enemy say so ; Nor shall you do mine 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 '11 teach you to drink deep ere you depart. Horatio. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. Hamlet. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student ; I think it was to see my mother's wedding. Horatio. Indeed, my lord, it followed liard upon. Hamlet. 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. {All start. Horatio. O, where, my lord ? Hamlet. In my mind's eye, Horatio. Horatio. [Meditatively. I saw him once ; he was a goodly king. HAMLET. 20 Hatnlet. He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again. Horatio. \With hesitation. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. Hamlet. Saw who ? Horatio. My lord, the king your father. Hamlet. The king my father ! Horatio. Season your admiration for a while With an attent ear; till I may deliver Upon the witness of these gentlemen This marvel to you. Hamlet. For God's love, let me hear! Horatio. Two nights together had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead vast and middle of the night. Been thus encountered. A figure like your father, Armed at all points exactly, cap-a-pie. Appears before them, and with solemn march Goes slow and stately by them : thrice he walked By their oppressed and fear-surprised 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. HAMLET. 21 Havilet. But where was this ? Mar. My lord, ui3on the platform where we watched. Hatnlet. Did you not speak to it ? Horatio. My lord, I did ; But answer made it none : yet once methought It lifted up its 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. Hamlet. 'T is very strange. Horatio. As I do live, my honoured lord, 't is true ; And we did think it writ down in our duty To let you know of it. Haitilet. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night ? We do, my lord. Armed, say you ? Armed, my lord. From top to toe ? 3 Mar..^ Ber Hamlet. Horatio. Hamlet. HAMLET, 2 2 Horatio, My lord, from head to foot. Hamlet. Then saw you not his face ? Horatio. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. Hamlet. What ! looked he frowningly ? Horatio. A countenance more in sorrow t han in a nger. Hamlet. Pale or red ? Horatio. Nay, very pale. Hamlet. And fixed his eyes upon you ? Horatio. Most constantly. Hamlet. I would I had been there. Horatio. It would have much amazed you. Hamlet. Very like, very like. Stayed it long ? Horatio. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. Mar., Ber. Longer, longer. HAMLET. 23 Horatio. Not when I saw it. Hamkt. His beard was grizzled, — no? Horatio. It was, as I have seen it in his Hfe, A sable silvered. Hamlet. I will watch to-night; Perchance 't will walk again. Horatio. I warrant 't will. Hamlet.. If it assume my noble father's person, I '11 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 whatsoever else shall hap to-night. Give it an understanding, but no tongue : I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well : Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, I '11 visit you. Horatio. Our duty to your honour. Hamlet. Your loves, as mine to you : farewell. [Exeunt Horatio, Marcel I us, and Bernardo c. 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 : foul deeds will rise. Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. [Exit Hamlet l. HAMLET. 24 [Enter Laertes and Ophelia c. Laer. My necessaries are embarked : farewell : And, sister, as the winds give benefit, And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, But let me hear firom you. Oph. Do you doubt that ? Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour. 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. Oph. No more but so ? Laer. Think it no more : For nature, crescent, does not grow alone In thews and bulk : 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 does besmirch The virtue of his will : but you must fear, His greatness weighed, his will is not his own ; For he himself is subject to his birth : He may not, as unvalued persons do, Carve for himself; for on his choice depends The safety and the health of the whole state. Fear it, OpheUa, 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. HAMLET. 25 OpJi. 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; Whilst, like a puffed and reckless libertine. Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not his own read. Laer. O, 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. [Enter PoloJiiiis r. Pol. [Laertes kneels. Yet here, Laertes ! aboard, aboard, for shame ! The w^ind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stayed for. There, — my blessing with you ! [Laying his hand on Ljiertes* head. And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportioned thought his act. Be thou famihar, but by no means vulgar. The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel ; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel ; but being in, Bear 't, that the opposer may beware of thee. Give every man thine 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 most select and generous, chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender be : For loan oft loses both itself and friend ; HAMLET. 26 And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all, — to thine own self J)e true ; x\nd it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell : my blessing season this in thee ! Laer. \Rises. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. Farewell, Ophelia ; and remember well What I have said to you. Oph, 'T is in my memory locked. And you yourself shall keep the key of it. Laer. Farewell. Pol. What is 't, Ophelia, he hath said to you ? \Exit Laertes. Oph. So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. Pol. Marry, well bethought : 'T is 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 't is put on me, And that in way of caution), I must tell you, You do not understand yourself so clearly As it behoves my daughter and your honour. What is between you ? give me up the truth. Oph. He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders Of his affection to me. HAiMLET. 27 FoL Affection ! pooh ! you speak like a green girl, Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them ? Oph. I do not know, my lord, what I should think. Pol Marry, I '11 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 you '11 tender me a fool. Oph. My lord, he hath importuned me with love In honourable fashion. Pol. Ay, fashion you may call it \ go to, go to. Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven. Pol Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know. When the blood bums, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows. This is for all, — I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, Have you so slander any moment's leisure, As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. Look to 't, I charge you : come your ways. Oph. I shall obey, my lord. [Exeinif Polo7nus and Ophelia R. MAMLET. 28 ^cene '2Dbiril. — The Platform. Dim Starlight. \Ejiter Hamlet and Horatio^ to Marcellus, who is on gnard. Hamlet. The air bites shrewdly ; it is very cold. Horatio. It is a nipping and an eager air. Hamlet. What hour now ? Horatio. I think it lacks of twelve. Mar. No, it is struck. Horatio. Indeed ? I heard it not : then it draws near the season Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. \A flourish of trumpets : ordnanee shot off^ within. What does this mean, my lord ? Hamlet. The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse, And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge. Horatio. Is it a custom ? Hamlet. Ay, marry, is 't : But to my mind, — though I am native here, And to the manner bom, — it is a custom More honoured in the breach than the observance. HAMLET. Horatio. Look, my lord, it comes \E?iter Ghost r. i.e. Hamlet. 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 comest in such a questionable shape, That I will speak to thee : I '11 call thee Hamlet, King, father, royal Dane : O, answer me ! Let me not burst in ignorance ; but tell Why thy canonised bones, hearsed in death, Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre ;/ Wherein we saw thee quietly in-urned. Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws, To cast thee up again ! What may this mean, That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel, Re-visit'st 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 ? [ T/ie Ghost beckons Hamlet. Horatio. It beckons you to go away with it, As if it some impartment did desire To you alone. Mar. [ Ghost beckons. Look, with what courteous action It waves you to a more removed ground: But do not go with it. Horatio. No, by no means. Hamlet. It will not speak ; then will I follow it. HAMLET. 30 Horatio. Do not, my lord. Harnlei. Why, what should be the fear ? I do not set my hfe at a pin's fee; And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself ? [ Ghost beckons. It waves me forth again ; — I '11 follow it. Horatio. 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 ? [ Ghost beckons. Hamlet, It waves me still. — Go on j I '11 follow thee. Mar. You shall not go, my lord, [Horatio and Marcellus seize Hamlet and strive to hold him. Hamlet. Hold off your hands. Horatio. Be ruled; you shall not go. Ha?nlet. My fate cries out. And makes each petty artery in this body As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. I Ghost beckons. Still am I called : — unhand me, gentlemen; — By heaven, I '11 make a ghost of him that lets me . — HAMLET. 31 I say, away ! — \Breaki?ig from the?n. Go on ; I '11 follow thee. I Exeunt Ghost and Haniht. Horatio and Mar- cellus follow slowly. ^ccne jFourt^. — Another part of the Platform. [Enter Ghost and Hamlet. Hamlet. Whither wilt thou lead me ? Speak; I '11 go no further. Ghost. Mark me. Hamlet. I will. Ghost. My hour is almost come, When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames Must render up myself. Hamlet. Alas 1 poor ghost ! Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold. Hamlet. Speak ; I am bound to hear. Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. Hamlet. What ? HAMLET. Ghost. 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 combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end. Like quills upon the fretful porcupine : But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. — List, list, O, list ! — If thou didst ever thy dear father love, — I^R Hamlet. Heaven ! Ghost. . Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. i|P Hamlet. Murder ! Ghost. Murder most foul, as in the best it is ; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. Hamlet. Haste me to know 't, that I, with wings as swift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge. Ghost. 1 find thee apt ; Now% Hamlet, hear : T is given out that, sleeping in mine orchard, A serpent stung me ; so the whole ear of Denmark HAMLET. Is by a forged process of my death Rankly abused : but know, thou noble youth, The serpent that did sting thy father's Hfe Now wears his crown. Hamlet. 0, my prophetic soul ! My uncle ! Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts, Won to his shameful lust The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen : But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air; Brief let me be. — Sleeping within mine orchard My custom always in the afternoon, Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole. With juice of cursed hebenon, in a vial, And in the porches of mine ears did pour The leperous distilment ; whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through The natural gates and alleys of the body. Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatched ; Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, Unhouseled, disappointed, unaneled ; No reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head : Ha7?ilet. O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible! Ghost. If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not ; Let not the royal bed of Denmark be A couch for luxury and damned incest. But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive 33 HAMLET. 34 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 ! Hamlet, remember me. \Exit Ghost. Hamlet. O, all you host of heaven ! O, earth ! what else ? And shall I couple hell ? — O, hold, my heart ; And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, But bear me stiffly up. — Remember thee ! Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Remember thee ! Yea, from the table of my memory I '11 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. — I have sworn 't. Horatio, [ Withhi. My lord ! my lord ! — Mar, [ Withi?i. Lord Hamlet, — Horatio^ [ JJlt/ii?L Heaven secure him ! Hamlet. So be it ! Horatio. [ Within. Illo, ho, ho, my lord ! Hamlet. Hillo, ho, ho, boy ! come, bird, come. HAMLET. 35 [Enter Horatio a7id Ma?reilus. Mar. How is 't, my noble lord ? Horatio. What news, my lord ? Hamlet. O, wonderful ! Ho7'atio. Good my lord, tell it. Hamlet. No ; you '11 reveal it. Ho7'atio. Not I, my lord, by heaven. Mar. Nor I, my lord. Hainlet. How say you, then ; Avould heart of man once think it ? — But you '11 be secret ? Horatio, Mar. Ay, by heaven, my lord. Hamlet. There 's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark — ■ But he 's an arrant knave. Horatio. There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave To tell us this. Hamlet. Why, right ; you are i' the right : And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands and part : HAMLET. 36 You, as your business and desire shall point you, — For every man has business and desire, Such as it is ; — and for mine own poor part, Look you, I '11 go pray. [Retiring, Horatio. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. [ Crosses to l. Hamlet. I 'm sorry they offend you, heartily ; Yes, faith, heartily. Horatio. There 's no offence, my lord. Hamlet. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, my lord. And much offence too. Touching this vision here, — [Marcellus advances quickly r. 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. Horatio. What is 't, my lord ? we will,. Hamlet. Never make known what you have seen to-night. Horatio, Mar. My lord, we will not. Hamlet. Nay, but swear 't. Horatio. [Swearing. In faith. My lord, not I. HAMLET. 37 Mar. [Swearing. Nor I, my lord, in faith. Hamlet. Upon my sword. Mar. We have sworn, my lord, already. Hamlet. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. Ghost. \BeJieath. Swear. Hamlet. Ah, ha, boy ! say'st thou so ? art thou there, true-penny ? Come on : Consent to swear. Horatio. Propose the oath, my lord. Hamlet. Never to speak of this that you have seen. Swear, by my sword. Ghost. Swear. Hamlet. Hie et ubique ? then we '11 shift our ground. — Come hither, gentlemen, And lay your hands again upon my sword : Never to speak of this that you have seen, Swear by my sword. Ghost. [Beneath. Swear. Horatio. O, day and night, but this is wondrous strange ! 5 HAMLET. 38 Haitilet. 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 soe'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 head-shake, 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 not to do. So grace and mercy at your most need help you. Ghost. [Beneath. Swear. Hamlet. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit 1 — So, gentlemen, With all my love I do commend me to you : And what so poor a man as Hamlet is May do, to express his love and friending to you, 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 : — O, cursed spite, ^ That ever I was born to set it right ! — Nay, come, let 's go together. [Picture. CURTAIN. 3lct d&cconti, ^crne jFirst —A Room in the Palace. [Enter Ophelia and Polonius^ meeting. Pol How now, Ophelia ! what 's the matter ? Oph. Alas ! my lord, I have been so afiOrighted ! Pol. With what, i' the name of heaven ? Oph. My lord, as I was sewing in my chamber, Lord Hamlet, — with his doublet all unbraced; No hat upon his head ; he comes before me. Pol What said he ? Oph. He took me by the wrist, and held me hard ; Then goes he to the length of all his arm ; And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, He falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it. Long stayed he so ; At last, — a httle shaking of mine arm, And thrice his head thus waving up and down, — He raised a sigh so piteous and profound. That 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 of doors he went without their help, And to the last, bended their light on me. HAMLET. • 40 Pol. Mad for thy love ? Oph. My lord, I do not know, But I do fear it. Pol. Come, go with me: This is the very ecstasy of love. I am sorry, — What ! have you given him any hard words of late ? Oph. No, my good lord ; but, as you did command, I did repel his letters, and denied His access to me. Pol That hath made him mad. • This must be known ; which, being kept close, might move More grief to hide than hate to utter love. \Exeunt PoIo7iius and Ophelia L. i. e. \Enter King, Posencrantz, and Guildenstern c. King. 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 lieard Of Hamlet's transformation ; so I call it, Since nor the exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was. W^hat it should be, More than his father's death, that thus hath put him So much from the understanding of himself, I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, [Efiter Queen and Atte?idatits l. u. e. That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time : so by your companies HAMLET. 41 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, Tiiat, opened, lies within our remedy. Qiieen. Good gentlemen, he hath much talked of you ; And sure I am two men there are 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. Ros. Both your majesties Might, by the sovereign power you have of us. Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty. Giiil. But we both obey, And here give up ourselves, in the full bent. To lay our service freely at your feet. To be commanded. Queen, Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstem. We do beseech you instantly to visit Our too much changed son. — Go, you, [ To the aiiendanis. And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. \^ExeHut Rose?icrantz, Guildenstem, and all the attendants. [Enter Polonius l. u. e. King. Thou still hast been the father of good news. HAMLET. 42 Pol. Have I, my lord ? Assure you, 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. Kino;. O, speak of that; that do I long to hear. Pol. 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, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief: — your noble son is mad: Mad call I it; for, to define true madness, What is 't, but to be nothing else but mad ? But let that go. Queen. More matter, with less art. Pol. Madam, I swear I use no art at all. That he is mad, 't is true : 't is true 't is pity; And pity 't is 't is 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, — HAMLET. 43 Who, in her duty and obedience, mark, Hath given me this : now gather, and surmise. [Reads. To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified Ophelia — That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase, — ''beautified" is a vile ' phrase ; but you shall hear. Thus : [Reads. In her excellent white bosom, these, &c. Qtteefi. Came this firom Hamlet to her ? Pol. Good madam, stay awhile ; I will be faithful. [Reads. 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, O, most best, beheve it. Adieu. Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him, Hamlet. This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me : And more above, hath his solicitings, As they fell out by time, by means, and place. All given to mine ear. But how hath she Received his love ? Pol. What do you think of me ? Kb^ig. As of a man faithful and honourable. 44 HAMLET Pol. I would fain prove so. But what might you think, When I had seen this hot love on the wing (As I perceived it, I must tell you that. Before my daughter told me), — what might you, Or my dear majesty >^ur queen here, think. If I had played the desk or table-book ; Or given my heart a winking, 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 precepts gave her, That she should lock herself from his resort. Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. Which done, she took the fruits of my advice ; And he, repulsed (a short tale to make). Fell into a sadness; then into a fast ; Thence to a watch ; thence into a weakness ; Thence to a lightness ; and, by this declension Into the madness wherein now he raves, And all we wail for. King. Do you think 't is this ? Qiieen. It may be — very likely. Pol. Hath there been such a time (I 'd fain know that), That I have positively said, " 'T is so," When it proved otherwise ? King. Not that I know. Pol Take this from this, if this be otherwise : \Poifiting to his head and should^'. HAMLET. 45 If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre. King. How may we try it further ? Pol. You know, sometimes he walks for hours together Here in the lobby. Queen. ^Q^es up c. So he does, indeed. Pol. At such a time I '11 loose my daughter to him : Be you and I behmd an arras then ; Mark the encounter : if he love her not, And be not from his reason fallen thereon, Let me be no assistant for a state. But keep a farm and carters. King. We will try it. Qjieen. But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes, reading. PoL Away, I do beseech you, both away: I '11 board him presently. \Exeunt King and Queen. [Enter Hamlet, c, readi?ig. How does my good Lord Hamlet? Hamlet. Well, God-a-mercy. Pol Do you know me, my lord ? 6 HAMLET. 46 Hamlet. Excellent well ; you are a fishmonger. Pol, Not I, my lord. Hatfilet. Then I would you were so honest a man. Pol Honest, my lord ! Hamlet. Ay, sir ; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand. Pol. That 's very true, my lord. Ha?nlet. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god kissing carrion, — Have you a daughter ? Pol. I have, my lord. Hamlet. Let her not walk i' the sun : conception is a blessing ; but not as your daughter may conceive: — friend, look to 't. Pol. [Aside. Still harping on my daughter : — yet he knew me not at first ; he said I was a fishmonger : he is far gone, far gone : and truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for love; very near this. I '11 speak to him again. — What do you read, my lord ? Hamlet. Words, words, words. HAMLET. 47 Pol. What is the matter, my lord ? Hamlet. Between who ? Pol I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. Hamlet. Slanders, sir : for the satirical rogue says here, that old men have grey beards ; that their faces are wrinkled ; their eyes purging thick amber and plum-tree gum ; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams : all which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down ; for you yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward. Pol. [Aside. Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't. — Will you walk out of the air, my lord ? Hamlet. Into my grave ? Pol. Indeed, that is out o' the air. — [Aside.] How pregnant sometimes his replies are ! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter. — My honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you. Hamlet. You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more willingly part withal, — except my life, except my life, except my life. K HAMLET. 48 PoL Fare you well, my lord. {Exit Polonius l. Ha7nlet. These tedious old fools ! \^As Polojiius retires, he meets, outside, Rosencrantz and Guildetister7i. PoL You go to seek the Lord Hamlet ; there he is. ^ Ros. {To Pol. j> Within. God save you, sir ! ^ {Enter Rosencra?itz a?id Guildenster?i l. Guil. Mine honoured lord ! Ros. My most dear lord ! Hamlet. My excellent good friends ! How dost thou, Guilden- stern ? Ah, Rosencrantz ! Good lads, how do ye both ? What news ? Ros. None, my lord, but that the world 's grown honest. Hamlet. Then is doomsday near : but your news is not true. In the beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore ? Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. Ha?nlet. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you. Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining ? Is it a free visitation ? Come, deal justly with me : come, come ; nay, speak. HAMLET. 49 Guil. What should we say, my lord ? Hamlet. Why, anything — but to the purpose. You were sent for: and there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not craft enough to colour : I know the good king and queen have sent for you. Ros. To what end, my lord ? Hamlet. 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 could charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you were sent for, or no ? Ros. [Aside to Guildenstern. . What say you ? Hamlet. [Aside. Nay, then, I have an eye of you. — If you love me, hold not off. Guil. My lord, we were sent for. Hamlet. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult 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 prom- ontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, — why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man ! how noble in reason ! how HAMLET. 50 infinite in faculty ! 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; no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so. Ros. My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts. Hamlet. Why did you laugh, then, when I said, man delights not me ? Ros. To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, wliat lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you : we coted them on the way; and hither are they coming, to offer you service. Hamlet. He that plays the king shall be welcome : his majesty shall have tribute of me. —What players are they ? Ros. Even those you were wont to take delight in, the trage- dians of the city. Hamlet. How chances it they travel ? their residence, both in reputation and profit, was better both ways. Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city ? are they so followed ? Ros. No, indeed, they are not. Hamlet. It is not strange; for my uncle is king of Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little. There is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out. ' [ Trumpet within. There are the players. HAMLET. 51 Gui/. Hamlet. Gentlemen \To Rosejicrantz and Guildensierii\ you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands. You are welcome; but my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived. Guil. In what, my dear lord ? Hamlet. I am but mad north-north-west; when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. Pol. [ Within. Well be with you, gentlemen ! Hamlet. Hark you, Guildenstern, that great baby you see there is not yet out of his swathing-clouts. Ros. Haply he is the second time come to them ; for they say an old man is twice a child. Hamlet. I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; mark it. — You say right, sir; o' Monday morning; 't was so, indeed. \E71ter Folo?iius l. Pol. My lord, I have news to tell you. Hamlet. My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome, — Pol. The actors are come hither, my lord. HAMLET. 52 Hamlet. Buz, buz ! PoL Upon mine honour, — Haftilet. Then came each actor on his ass, — PoL The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, com- edy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-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. Hamlet. O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou! Pol. What a treasure had he, my lord ? Hamlet. Why, One fair daughter, and no more, The which he loved passing well. Pol. [Aside. Still on my daughter. Hamlet. Am I not in the right, old Jephthah ? Pol. If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love passing well. Hamlet. Nay, that follows not. HAMLET. 53 Pol. What follows, then, my lord ? IIa7?ilet. 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, my abridgment comes. \E71fer several Flayers L. You are welcome, masters; welcome all. Old friend! Thy face is valanced since I saw thee last ; comest thou to beard me in Denmark ? Masters, you are all welcome. We '11 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. First Flay. ^'' What speech, my lord ? Hamlet 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 ; 't was caviare to the general • but it was an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much modesty as cunning. One speech in it I chiefly loved : 't was Eneas' tale to Dido ; and thereabout of it, especially, where he speaks of Priam's slaughter ; if it live in your memory, begin at this line ; — let me see, let me see : — The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast, — 't is not so : — it begins with Pyrrhu.; : — The rugged Pyrrhus, — he, whose sable arms Black as his purpose, did the night resemble ; Old grandsire Priam seeks. — HAMLET. 54 Pol 'Fore heaven, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good discretion. Hamlet, So proceed you. First Play. Anon he finds him Striking too short at Greeks ; his antique 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 The unnerved 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 reverend Priam, seemed i' the air to stick : So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood : And, 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. Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work ; And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall j On Mars's armour, 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 dowTi the hill of heaven. As low as to the fiends ! Pol This is too long. Hamlet. It shall to the barber's, with your beard. — Pr'ythee, say on : — come to Hecuba. HAMLET. 55 First Play. But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen — Hamlet. [ With mometitary sad pre-occiipaticm : his thought is of his mother. " The mobled queen." Pol. That 's good ; " mobled queen " is good. First Play. Run barefoot up and down, threatening 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'er-teemed loins, A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up ; — W^ho 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's limbs, The instant burst of clamour 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. Pol Look, whether he has not turned his colour, and has tears in's eyes. — Pray you, no more. Hai7ilet. 'T is well ; I '11 have thee speak out the rest soon. — Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed ? Do you hear, let them be well used ; for they are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time ; after your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live. Pol. My lord, I will use them according to their desert. HAMLET. 56 Haudet. Much better, sir ; use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping ? Use them after your own honour and dignity : the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in. Fol. Come, sirs. Hamlet. Follow him, friends : we '11 hear a play to-morrow. \jExit Ihlojiius, with all the players except the first, L. Old friend. \The First Player pauses in the act of retiring. Ham- let then addresses Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. My good friends, I '11 leave you till night. You are wel- come to Elsinore. \Exeimt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Hajnlet then speaks again to the player. Can you play the murder of Gonzago ? Fi?'st Flay. Ay, my lord. Hamlet. We '11 have it to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would set down and insert in 't, could you not ? Fi7'st Flay. Ay, my lord. Hamlet. Very well. — Follow that lord ; and look you mock him not. [Exit First Flayer l. Now I am alone. O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I ! Is it not monstrous, that this player here. HAMLET. 57 But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit. That, from her working, all his visage wanned ; Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's 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 Hecuba, That he should weep for her ? What would he do. Had he the motive and the cue 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 znd 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 ? Gives me the lie i' the throat, As deep as to the lungs ? who does me this ? Why, 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 have fatted all the region kites With this slave's offal : — bloody, bawdy villain I Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain ! Why, what an ass am I ! This is most brave, That I, the son of a dear father murdered, Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must, like a bawd, unpack my heart with words. And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, A scullion ! Fie upon it ! foh ! — About, my brain ! 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 HAMLET. 58 They have proclaimed their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. I '11 have these players Play something like the murder of my father Before mine uncle : I '11 observe his looks ; I '11 tent him to the quick : if he but blench, I know my course. The spirit that I have seen Maybe the devil: and the devil hath power To assume a pleasing shape ; yea, and perhaps Out of my w^eakness and my melancholy. As he is very potent with such spirits, Abuses me to damn me : I '11 have grounds More relative than this : — the play 's the thing Wherein I '11 catch the conscience of the king. [£xlf Hamlet l. CURTAIN. %tt OTfjirb. ^ccne JFirfit. r The same as in Act Second. The King AND Queen seated at table c, and PoLONius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern, standing near, are (^ discovered. King. And can you, by no drift of circumstance. Get from him why he puts on this confusion, Grating so harshly all his days of quiet With turbulent and dangerous lunacy ? He does confess he feels himself distracted; But from what cause he will by no means speak. Gui/. 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. Quee/i. Did you assay him To any pastime ? Madam, it so fell out, that certain players We o'er-raught on the way : of these we told him ; And there did seem in him a kind of joy To hear of it : they are about the court ; And, as I think, they have already order This night to play before him. %ct €l)irb. 1 The same as in Act Second. The King AND Queen seated at table c, and ^ccne jFir6t. ^^ ^j^^ We will bestow ourselves. — j ^ Read on this book ; [ To Ophelia. — He gives her a missal. That show of such an exercise may colour Your loneliness. — We are oft to blame in this, — 'T is too much proved, — that, with devotion's visage And pious action, we do sugar o'er The devil himself. Ki7ig. [Asii/e. O, 'tis too true! How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience ! The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art, Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it, Than is my deed to my most painted word : O, heavy burden! Pol. I hear him coming : let's withdraw, my lord. \Exe21nt Ki?ig and Folotiins c, and Ophelia, slowly, R. \E?iter Ha^nlet. Hamlet. To be, or not to be, — that is the question : — Whether 't is 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 heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to — 't is a consummation Devoudy 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, 8 HAMLET. 62 The 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 the 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 traveller 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 of us all ; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sickhed o'er with the pale cast of thought ; And enterprises of great pith and moment. With this regard, their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action. — Soft you now ! \Re-e)iter Ophelia, reading. The fair Ophelia. — Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remembered. Oph. {Coldly. Good my lord. How does your honour for this many a day ? Hamlet. \ Going. I humbly thank yoil ; well, well, well. Oph. My lord, I have remembrances of yours, That I have longed long to re-deliver; I pray you, now receive them. {Hamlet here catches a glimpse of the King and Folojiiics^ in their hiding-place at back of the scene. Hamlet. No, not I ; I never gave you aught. HAMLET. • 63 Oph. My honoured lord, you know right well you did ; And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed As made the things more rich : their perfume lost, Take these again ; for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. There, my lord. Hamlet. Ha, ha ! are you honest ? Oph. My lord ? Hamlet. Are you fair ? \ What means your lordship ? Hamlet. That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should dmit no discourse to your beauty. Oph. Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty ? Hamlet. 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. Oph. Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. Hamlet. You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock, but we shall relish of it : I loved you not. HAMLET. 64 Oph. I was the more deceived. Hamlet. 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 j^roud, revengeful, ambitious ; with more offences 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 heaven and earth ? We are arrant knaves, all ; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where 's your father ? Oph. \Hesitatiiig. At home, my lord. Hamlet. Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool nowhere but in 's own house. Farewell. Oph. O, help him, you sweet heavens! Hamlet. If thou dost marry, I '11 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, go : 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. Oph. O, heavenly powers, restore him! HAMLET. 65 Ha7nlct. I have heard of your paintings too, well enough ; God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another : you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness your igno- rance. Go to, I '11 no more on 't ; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages : those that are married already, all but one, shall live ; the rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go. \Exit. Oph. O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown ! The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword : The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion and the mould of form. The observed of all observers, — quite, quite down! And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, That sucked the honey of his music vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh ; That unmatched form and feature of blown youth Blasted with ecstasy : O, woe is me. To have seen what I have seen, see w4iat I see ! \Exit Ophelia. \Re-enter King and Polonius. King. Love ! his affections do not tliat way tend; Nor what he spake, though it lacked form a little, Was not like madness. There 's something in liis 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- setded matter in his heart; Whereon his brain still beating, puts him tlius From fashion of himself. What think you on 't ? kV > ■ / HAMLET. 66 Fol It shall do well ; but yet do I believe The origin and commencement of his grief Sprung from neglected love. My lord, do as you please ; But, if you hold it fit, after the play, Let his queen mother all alone entreat him To show his grief: let her be round with him ; And I '11 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 tliink. King. It shall be so : Madness in great ones must not unwatched go. [Exeunt c. )ttXit ^cconti. — A Hall in the Castle [First Grooves]. [n. b. — During this scene, set the Dais with chairs R, Platform l, chair and stool c. [Enter Hamlet and First Player. Hafnlet. 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, the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robust- ious, periwig-pated fellow tear 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. HAMLET. 67 First Player. I warrant your honour. Hamlet, Be not too tame neither, but let }-our 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 overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature ; to show, virtue her own 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 make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve ; the censure of the which one must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players that I have seen play, — and heard others praise, and that highly, — not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor 7na7i, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made ^tfeeffi-, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. First Flayer. I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us, sir. Hamlet. O, 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. \^Exit Player. Horatio ! \Enter Horatio. Horatio. Here, sweet lord, at your service. HAMLET. 68 Haitilet. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man As e'er my conversation coped withal, Horatio. 0, my dear lord, — Hamlet. 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 Hath sealed thee for herself : for thou hast been As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing ; A man that fortune's buffets and rewards Hast ta'en with equal thanks : and blessed are those Whose blood and judgment are so well co-mingled. That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, As I do thee. — Something too much of this. There is a play to-night before the king ; One scene of it comes near the circumstance Which I have told thee of my father's death : I pr'ythee, when thou seest that act a-foot, Even with the very comment of thy soul. Observe mine uncle : if his occulted guilt Do not itself unkennel in one speech. It is a damned ghost that we have seen ; And my imaginations are as foul As Vulcan's stithy. 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. HAiMLET. 69 Horatio. Well, my lord. [March, pp. Hamlet They are coming to the play. Get you a place, must be idle. ^14.^ »»* HrprlQ anH pafrhp^-^^ [Enter Ghost r. Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings. You heavenly guards ! — What would your gracious figure? Alas ! he 's mad ! Queen. Hamlet. Do you not come your tardy son to chide, That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by The important acting of your dread command ? O, say! HAMLET. Ghost. Do not forget: this visitation Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. But, look, amazement on thy mother sits : O, step between her and her fighting soul, — Speak to her, Hamlet. Hamlet. How is it with you, lady ? Queen. Alas ! how is 't with you. That you do bend your eye on vacancy. And with the incorporal air do hold discourse ? Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep ; O, gentle son, Upon the heat and flame of your distemper Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look ? Haifilet. On him, on him ! Look you, how pale he glares ! His form and cause conjoined, preaching to stones, Would make them capable. — Do not look upon me ; Lest with this piteous action you convert My stern effects : then what I have to do Will want true colour ; tears perchance for blood. Queen. To whom do you speak this ? Hajfilet. Do you see nothing — there ? Queen. Nothing at all ; yet all that is I see. Hamlet. Nor did you nothing hear ? Quee7i. No, nothing but ourselves. 87 ^ J HAMLET. 88 Hatnlei. 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 L. Que £71. [I/i extreme terror. This is the very coinage of your brain : This bodiless creation ecstasy Is very cunning in. Hamlet. Ecstasy ! My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time. And makes as healthful music : it is not madness That I have uttered : bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word ; which madness Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul. That not your trespass, but my madness speaks : It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, \ Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven ;/ Repent what 's past; avoid what is to come ; Qtieen. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. Ha^nlet. O, throw away the worser part of it. And live the purer with the other half. Good night : but go not to my uncle's bed ; Assume a virtue, if you have it not. Once more, good night : [ The Queen raises her ha?ids as if to bless her son. Hamlet checks the motion and recoils from her. And when you are desirous to be blessed, HAMLET. 89 I '11 blessing beg of you. — For this same lord, [Fointi7ig to Foloniiis. I do repent : 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 : Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind. CURTAIN. %tt fonttl). §)Ctnt JFirct — A Room in the Castle. \E71ter Ki?ig. King. 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 't is so, the offender's scourge is weighed, But never the offence. yEnter Rose7icra7itz. How now ! what hath befallen ? Ros. \\Tiere the dead body is bestowed, my lord. We cannot get from him. King. But where is he ? Ros. Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure. King. Bring him before us. Ros. Ho, Guildenstern ! bring in my lord. \Enter Hamlet, guarded, and Guildenstern. King Now, Hamlet, where 's Polonius ? Hamlet. At supper. HAMLET. At supper ! where ? Hamkt. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten : a certain convocation of pohtic worms are e'en at him. King. Where is Polonius ? Hamlet. In heaven : send thither to see : if your messenger find him not there, seek him i' the other place yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby. King. Go seek him there. [To Gidldenstern. Hamlet. He will stay till you come. [Exit Gidldenstern. Ki?ig 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 With fiery quickness : therefore prepare thyself; The barque is ready, and the wind at help, The associates tend, and everything is bent For England. Hamlet. For England ! Ay, Hamlet. Good. King. So is it, if thou knewest our purposes. King Hamlet. HAMLET. 92 Hamlet. I see a cherub that sees them. — But, come ; for En- gland! — Farewell, dear mother. King. Thy loving father, Hamlet. Hamlet. My mother : father and mother is man and wife ; man and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. — Come, for England ! \Exit Ha?nlet, with guards. King. Follow him at foot ; tempt him with speed aboard ; Delay it not ; I '11 have him hence to-night ; Away ! for everything is sealed and done That else leans on the affair : pray you, make haste. [Exit Rosencrantz. And, England, if my love thou boldest in prize. Thou mayest not coldly estimate at naught My sovereign process ; which imports at full, By letters conjuring 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 't is done, Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. [Exit King. Scene changes. ^cene ^ccontl* — A Room in the Castle. [Enter Queen and Marcelliis c. Queen. I will not speak with her. Mar. She is importunate ; indeed, distract : Her mood will needs be pitied. HAMLET. 93 Queen. What would she have ? Mar. 'T were good she were spoken with ; for she may strew Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds. Queen. Let her come in. \Exii Marcelhis. To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is, Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss : So full of ardess jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt. \Enter Marcelhis with Ophelia c. Oph. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark ? Qiiee7i. How now, Ophelia! {Sings. How should I your true love know From another one ? By his cockle hat and staff And his sandle shoon. Queen. Alas ! sweet lady, what imports this song ? Oph. Say you ? nay, pray you, mark. \Sings. He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone ; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone. Queen. Nay, but, Ophelia, — 12 HAMLET, 94 Oph. Pray you, mark. [Enter King l. Queen. Alas ! look here, my lord. Oj>k. [Sings. White his shroud as the mountain snow, Larded with sweet flowers ; Which bewept to the grave did go With true-love showers. Kifig How do you, pretty lady ? Oph. Well, God 'ild you ! They say the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord ! we know what we are, but we know not what we may be. Kijig. Conceit upon her father. Oph. Pray you, let 's have no words of this ; but when they ask you what it means, say you this : [Sings. To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window. To be your Valentine. King. How long hath she been thus ? Oph. I hope all will be well. We must be patient : but I cannot choose but weep, to think they should lay him i' the cold ground. My brother shall know of it : and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach ! — Good night, ladies ; good night, sweet ladies ; good night, good night. [Exit Ophelia c. HAMLET. 95 Ki7ig. Follow her, close ; give her good watch, I pray you. \Exit Marcellus. O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's death. O, Gertrude, Gertrude, When sorrows come, they come not single spies, But in battalions. \A noise wiihiti. Queen. Alack, what noise is this ? King. Where are my Switzers ? Let them guard the door. \Speaki7ig off c. [Ejiter Marcellus. What is the matter ? Mar. Save yourself, my lord : The young Laertes, in a riotous head, O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him lord; They cry, " Choose we ; Laertes shall be king ! " Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds, " Laertes shall be king, Laertes king ! " [Exit Marcellus. Noise within. Enter Laertes^ armed. Laer. O, thou vile king. Give me my father ! Queen. Calmly, good Laertes. Laer. That drop of blood that 's calm proclaims me bastard ; Cries cuckold to my father ; brands the harlot Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brows Of my true mother. HAMLET. 96 King. What is the cause, Laertes, That thy rebelhon looks so giant-Hke ? — 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. — Tell me, Laertes, Why thou art thus incensed : — let him go, Gertrude : — Speak, man. Where is my father ? Dead. But not by him. Let him demand his fill. Lacr. King. Queen. Kiji.z. Lacr. How came he dead ? I '11 not be juggled with : To hell, allegiance ! to this point I stand, — That both the w^orlds I give to neghgence. Let come what comes ; only I '11 be revenged Most th'roughly for my father. King Who shall stay you ? Laer. My will, not all the w^orld : And for my means, I '11 husband them so well. They shall go far with little. King. Good Laertes, If you desire to know the certainty Of your dear father's death, is 't writ in your revenge, That, sweepstake, you will draw both friend and foe, Winner and loser ? HAMLET. 97 Laer. None but his enemies. King. Will you know them, then ? Laer. To his good friends thus wide I '11 ope my arms ; And, hke the kind, Hfe-rendering pelican. Repast them with my blood. King. 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. VOICES OUTSIDE. Let her come in ! Laer. How now ! what noise is that ? \The Queen sits l. Re-enter Ophelia. O, heat, dry up my brains ! tears seven times salt, Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eyes ! — By Heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight, Till our scale turn the beam. O, rose of May ! Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Opheha ! — O, heavens ! is't possible, a young maid's wits Should be as mortal as an old man's life ? Oj>h. [Si?igs. They bore him barefaced on the bier; And on his grave rained many a tear, — Fare you well, my dove ! Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge, It could not move thus. HAMLET. cjS Oph. You must sing, " Down a-down, an you call him a- down-a." O, how the wheel becomes it ! 'T was the false steward, that stole his master's daughter. Laer. This nothing 's more than matter. Oph. There 's rosemary, that»'s for remembrance ; pray, love, remember ; and there is pansies, that 's for thoughts. Laer. A document in madness, — thoughts and remembrance fitted. Oph. There 's fennel for you, and columbines : — there 's rue for you; and here 's some for me : — we may call it herb of grace o' Sundays: — 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 he made a good end, — \Sings. For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy. — Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favour and to prettiness. Oph. \Smgs. And will he not come again ? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead, Gone to his death-bed, He never will come again. His beard was white as snow, All flaxen was his poll : He is gone, he is gone, And we cast away moan : God ha' mercy on his soul ! And of all Christian souls, I pray God. — God be wi' you. \Exit Ophelia and Queeti. HAMLET. 99 Laer. Do you see this, O Heaven ? Kifig. Laertes, I must c6mmune 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 labour with your soul To give it due content. Laer. 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 't were from heaven to earth, That I must call 't in question. King. So you shall; And where th' offence is let the great axe fall. Hamlet, who hatli your noble father slain, Pursues my life. — \E7iter Bernardo. How now ! what news ? [To Bernardo. Ber. Letters, my lord, from Hamlet : This to your majesty ; this to the quecH. King. From Hamlet ! who brought them ? Ber. Sailors, my lord, they say ; I saw them not. HAMLET. loO King. Laertes, you shall hear them. — Leave us. [Exit Bernardo. {^Reads'] High and mighty, — You shall know I am set naked on your kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes : when I shall, first asking your pardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my sudden and more strange return. Hamlet. What should this mean ? Are all the rest come back ? Or is it some abuse, and no such thing? Laer. Know you the hand ? King. 'T is Hamlet's character : — " Naked,' — And in a postscript here, he says, " alone." Can you advise me ? Laer. I 'm lost in it, my lord. But let him come ; It warms the very sickness in my heart. That I shall live and tell him to his teeth, " Thus diddest thou." King If it be so, Laertes, — Will you be ruled by me ? Laer, Ay, my lord ; So you will not o'errule me to a peace. King 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. HAMLET. Lacr. My lord, I will be ruled ; The rather, if you could devise it so, That I might be the organ. Ki7ig. 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. Laer. What part is that, my lord ? King. A very riband in the cap of youth, Yet needful too ; Here, two months since, There came a gentleman of Normandy, — Who gave you such a masterly report, For art and exercise in your defence. And for your rapier most especially. That he cried out, 't would be a sight indeed, If one could match you. 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. — Laer. What out of this, my lord ? Ki?ig. Laertes, was your father dear to you ? Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, A face without a heart ? Laer. Why ask you this ? 13 HAMLET. 1 02 .King. Hamlet comes back : what would you undertake, To show yourself your father's son in deed More than m words ? Laer. To cut his throat i' the church. Ki?ig. 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 '11 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 on your heads : he, being remiss, Most generous, and free from all contriving. Will not peruse the foils; so that, with ease. Or with a little shuffling, you may choose A sword unbated, and, in a pass of practice. Requite him for your father. Laer. I will do 't : And, for that purpose, I '11 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 '11 touch my point With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly, It may be death. Kmg. Let 's further think of this ; We '11 make a solemn wager on your cunnings. When in your motion you are hot and dry (As make your bouts more violent to that end). HAMLET. 103 And that he calls for drink, I '11 have prepared him A chalice for the nonce ; whereon but sipping, If he by chance escape your venomed stuck, Our purpose may hold there. \E Titer Que 671 L. Queen. One woe doth tread upon another's heel, So fast they follow : — your sister 's drowned, Laertes. Laertes. Drowned ! O, where ? Qiieett. There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream ; There with fantastic garlands did she come Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples. There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke ; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Laer. I forbid my tears : but yet It is our trick ; nature her custom holds. Let shame say what it will. Adieu, my lord : I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze, But that this folly drowns it. \Exit. CURTAIN. 3lct jpifti). ^cene JFirst f ^ Churchyard. Two Grave-Diggers, ■ ( WITH SPADES, ETC., DISCOVERED. First G. D. Is she to be buried in Christian burial that wilfully seeks her own salvation ? Secofid G. D. I tell thee she is; and therefore make her grave straight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds it Christian burial. First G. D. How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defence ? Seco?id G. D. Why, 't is found so. First G. D. It must be se offendoido ; 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. Second G. D. Nay, but hear you, goodman delver, — First G. D. Give me leave. Here Hes 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. HAMLET. 105 Second G. D, But is this law ? First G. D. Ay, marry, is 't ; crowner's-quest law Second G. D. Will you ha' the truth on 't ? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out of Christian burial. First G. D. Why, there thou sayst : and the more pity that great folk should have countenance in this w^orlci to drown or hang themselves, more than their even Christian. — Come, my spade. There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers : they hold up Adam's profession. Second G. D. Was he a gentleman ? First G. D. He was the first that ever bore arms. Second G. F>. Why, he had none. First G. D. . What ! art a heathen ? How dost thou understand the Scripture ? The Scripture says, Adam digged : could he dig without arms ? I '11 put another question to thee : if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess thyself — Second G. D. Go to. First G. D. What is he that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter ? Second G. D. The gallows-maker ; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants. HAiMLET. 1 06 First G. D. 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. Second G. D. Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter ? First G. I). Ay, tell me that, and unyoke. Second G. D. Marry, now I can tell. First G. D. To 't. Second G. D. Mass, I cannot tell. First G. D, 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 that he makes last till doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan; fetch me a stoop of liquor. \Exit Second G. D. First G. D. [^Digging and singing. In youth, when I did love, did love, Methought it was very sweet, To contract, O, the time, for, ah ! my behove, O, methought there was nothing meet. [Enter Hamlet and Horatio. Hamlet. Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings at grave-making ? LM HAMLET. 107 Horatio. Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness. Hamlet. 'T is e'en so : the hand of Httle employment hath the daintier sense. First G. D. \Sijigs. But age, with his steahng steps, Hath clawed me in his clutch, And hath shipped me intil the land. As if I had never been such. [ 111 rows lip a skull. Hamlet. That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once : how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jaw- bone, that did the first murder ! This might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o'er-reaches ; one that would circumvent Heaven, might it not ? Horatio. It might, my lord. {First G. D. throws bones from the grave, OJie by o?ie, with his ha?ids, tossing them. Hamlet. Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but to play at loggats with them ? mine ache to think on 't. Fi}'st G. D. \Sings and digs. A pick-axe and a spade, a spade, For and a shrouding sheet: O, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet. [ Throws icp another skull. The atiefition of the Grave- Digger is particula^iy drawn to this skull by the retnnant of a leather fooV s cap which ad- heres to it, and by which he recognizes the skull as that of Yorick. He sets this skull apart from, the other. HAMLET. 1 08 Hamlet. There 's another : why may not that be the skull of a lawyer ? Where be his quiddits now, his quillets, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks ? why does he sufter this rude knave now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his action of battery ? I will speak to this fellow. Whose grave 's this, sirrah ? First G. D. Mine, sir. — \Sings. O, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet. Hamlet. I think it be thine, indeed ; for thou liest in 't. First G. D. You lie out on 't, sir, and therefore it is not yours : for my part, I do not lie in 't, and yet it is mine. Hamlet. Thou dost lie in 't, to be in 't, and say it is thine : 't is for the dead, not for the quick ; therefore thou liest. First G. D. 'T is a quick lie, sir ; 't will away again, from me to you. Hamlet. What man dost thou dig it for ? First G. D. For no man, sir. Hamlet. What woman, then ? First G. D. For none, neither. Hainlet. Who is to be buried in 't ? HAMLET. 109 First G. D. One that was a woman, sir ; but, rest her soul, she 's dead. Hamlet. [ To Horatio. How absolute the knave is ! we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us. [To First G. D?[ How long hast thou been a grave-maker ? First G. D. Of all the days i' the year, I came to 't that day that our last King Hamlet o'ercame Fortinbras. Ha?nlet. How long is that since ? First G. D. Cannot you tell that ? every fool can tell that : it was the very day that young Hamlet was bom, — he that is mad and sent into England. Hai7ilet. Ay, marry, why was he sent into England ? First G. D. Why, because he was mad : he shall recover his wits there ; or, if he do not, it 's no great matter there. Hamlet. Why? First G. D. 'T will not be seen in him there ; there the men are as /nad as he. Hamlet. How came he mad ? First G. D. Very strangely, they say. Hamlet. How strangely ? 14 HAMLET. liO First G. D. Faith, e'en with losing his wits. Hamlet. Upon what ground ? First G D. Why, here in Denmark : I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years. Hamlet. How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot ? First G. D. Faith, if he be not rotten before he die, he will last you some eight year or nine year : a tanner will last you nine year. Hamlet. Why he more than another ? First G. D. Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that he will keep out water a great while ; and your water is a sore decayer of your dead body. Here's a skull now; this skull hath lain you i' the earth three and twenty years. [Grave-digger takes up the skull with the leather remna?it adhering to it. Hamlet. Whose was it ? First G. D. A mad fellow's it was : whose do you think it was ? Hamlet. Nay, I know not. First G. D. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! 'a poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull, sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester. liU HAMLET. I I 2 Hamlet. No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it : as thus ; Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander retumeth into dust ; the dust is earth ; of earth we make loam ; and why of that loam, whereto he was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel ? Imperial Caesar, dead and turned to clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away: O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe. Should patch a wall to expel the winter's flaw ! \Dead March is heard. But soft ! but soft ! aside : — here comes the king — The queen, the courtiers : who is that they follow ? And with such maimed rites ? This doth betoken, The corse they follow did with desperate hand Fordo its own life : 't was of some estate. Couch we awhile, and mark. \Re tiring with Horatio r. \E}itcr Priest, b'c.^ in procession, with Corse of Ophelia,— Laertes and Mourners following; King, Queen, their trains, &'c. The Corse is borne upon a bier by four or six women, who stand in front of the grave imtil the coffin has been lowered by the grave-diggers to its place. Fune7'al music sounds till then, when it ceases, and the dialogue begins. Laer. What ceremony else ? Hamlet. That is Laertes, A very noble youth : mark. Laer. What ceremony else ? HAMLET. 113 Priest. 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 have lodged Till the last trumpet ; for charitable prayers. Shards, 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. Laer. Must there no more be done ? Priest. 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. Laer. O, from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring ! — I tell thee, churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be, When thou liest howling. Ha7nlet. What ! the fair Ophelia ! Queen. [ Scattering flowers. Sweets to the sweet : farevv-ell ! 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. Laer. O, treble woe Fall ten times treble on that cursed head, \Vhose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense Deprived thee of! — Hold off the earth awhile, HAMLET. 114 Till I have caught her once more in mine arms : [Le(i/>s into the grave. Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead, Till of this flat a mountain you have made, To o'ertop old Pehon, or the skyish head Of blue Olympus. Hamlet. What is he whose grief Bears such an emphasis ? whose phrase of sorrow Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand Like wonder- wounded hearers ? This is I, Hamlet, the Dane. \Hamlet advances. Lae?'. \Leaps out of the grave and rushes upon Ha}?ilet. The devil take thy soul ! \Hamlet and Laertes struggle together for a moment. Ki?ig Pluck them asunder. Hamlet. Thou prayest not well. I pr'ythee, take thy lingers from my throat ; For, though I am not splenitive and rash. Yet have I in me something dangerous. Which let thy wiseness fear : hold off thy hand! [ The attenda?its part them. Hamlet. \Miy, I will fight with him upon this theme Until my eyelids will no longer wag. Queen. O, my son, what theme ? Hamlet. I loved Ophelia : forty thousand brothers Could not, with all their quantity of love. Make up my sum. — What wilt thou do for her ? HAMLET. 11^ Qjieefi. O, he is mad, Laertes. Hatnlet. Come ! show me what thou 'It do : Woul't weep ? woul't fight? woul't fast? woul't tear'thyself? I '11 do 't. — Dost thou come here to whine ? To outface me with leaping in her grave ? Be buried quick with her, and so will I : And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw Millions of acres on us, till our ground Singeing his pate against the burning zone, Make Ossa like a wart ! Nay, an thou 'It mouth, I '11 rant as well as thou. Qiieen. This is mere madness : And thus 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. Hamlet. 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 r. Khig. I pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him. — [Exit Horatio r, [To Laertes.] Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech ; We '11 put the matter to the present push, — Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son. — This grave shall have a living monument. [Picture. Dead March. Scene changes. HAMLET. Il6 ^cene ^ecnnlJ. — In Front of the Castle. [Enter Hamlet a?id Horatio. Hamlet. But I am very sorry, good Horatio, That to Laertes I forgot myself; For, by the image of my cause, I see The portraiture of his. Horatio. Who comes here ? [E?iter Osric l. Osr. Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark. Hamlet. I humbly thank you, sir. — Dost know this water-fly ? \Aside to Horatio. Horatio. [Aside to Hamlet. No, my good lord. Hamlet. [Aside to Horatio. Thy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice to know him. Osr. Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I should impart a thing to you from his majesty. Hamlet. I will receive it, sir, with all dihgence of spirit. Put your bonnet to his right use ; 't is for the head. Osr. I thank your lordship, 't is very hot. Hainlet. No, believe me, 't is very cold ; the wind is northerly. HAMLET. 117 Osr. It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed. Hajnlei. But yet, methinks it is very sultry and hot ; or my com- plexion — Osr. Exceedingly, my lord ; it is very sultry, — as 't were,— I cannot tell how. — But, my lord, his majesty bade me sig- nify to you, that he has laid a great wager on your head : sir, this is the matter, — Hamlet. I beseech you, remember — \^Haj7ilet 7noves him to put on his hat. Osr. Nay, in good faith; for mine ease, in good faith. Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes ; believe me, an abso- lute gentleman, 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. Ha?nlet. What imports the nomination of this gentleman ? Osr. Of Laertes ? Hamlet. Of him, sir. Osr. You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is — Ha77ilet. I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with him in excellence. 15 HAMLET. Il8 Osr. I mean, sir, for his weapon. Hamld. What is his weapon ? Osr. Rapier and dagger. Hamlet. That 's two of his weapons : but, well. Osr. The king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary horses : against the which he has imponed, as I take it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their assigns, as girdle, hangers, 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. Hamlet. What call you the carriages ? Osr. The carriages, sir, are the hangers. Hamlet. The phrase would be more german to the matter, if we could carry cannon by our sides. Osr. The king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passes between yourself and him, he shall not exceed you three hits : he hath laid on twelve for nine; and it would come to imme- diate trial, if your lordship would vouchsafe the answer ? Hamlet. How if I answer no ? Osr. I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial. HAMLET. 119 Hamlet. Sir, it is the breathing time of day with me ; let the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the king hold his purpose, I will win for him if I can; if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits. Osr. Shall I deliver you so ? Hamlet. To this effect, sir ; after what flourish your nature will. Osr. I commend my duty to your lordship. \^Exit Osric. Horatio. You will lose this wager, my lord. Havilet. I do not think so; since he went into France, I have been in continual practice. But thou wouldst not think how ill all 's here about my heart : but it is no matter. Horatio. Nay, good my lord, — Hamlet. It is but foolery ; but it is such a kind of gain-giving as would perhaps trouble a woman. Horatio. If your mind dislike anything, obey it : I will forestall their repair hither, and say you are not fit. Hamlet. Not a whit : we defy augury : there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.' If it be now, 't is 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 he leaves, knows, what is 't to leave betimes? Let be. [Exeunt. Change. HAMLET. T20 A Hall in the Castle. King, Queen, Laertes, Bernardo, Marcellus, ^ccne Cl^irll.