Chapter LXXVII: Part 77

Hor. So haue I heard, and do in part beleeue it. But looke, the Morne in Russet mantle clad, Walkes o're the dew of yon high Easterne Hill, Breake we our Watch vp, and by my aduice Let vs impart what we haue seene to night Vnto yong Hamlet. For vpon my life, This Spirit dumbe to vs, will speake to him: Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, As needfull in our Loues, fitting our Duty? Mar. Let do't I pray, and I this morning know Where we shall finde him most conueniently.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Claudius King of Denmarke, Gertrude the Queene, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, and his Sister Ophelia, Lords Attendant.

King. Though yet of Hamlet our deere Brothers death The memory be greene: and that it vs befitted To beare our hearts in greefe, and our whole Kingdome To be contracted in one brow of woe: Yet so farre hath Discretion fought with Nature, That we with wisest sorrow thinke on him, Together with remembrance of our selues. Therefore our sometimes Sister, now our Queene, Th' imperiall Ioyntresse of this warlike State, Haue we, as 'twere, with a defeated ioy, With one Auspicious, and one Dropping eye, With mirth in Funerall, and with Dirge in Marriage, In equall Scale weighing Delight and Dole Taken to Wife; nor haue we heerein barr'd Your better Wisedomes, which haue freely gone With this affaire along, for all our Thankes. Now followes, that you know young Fortinbras, Holding a weake supposall of our worth; Or thinking by our late deere Brothers death, Our State to be disioynt, and out of Frame, Colleagued with the dreame of his Aduantage; He hath not fayl'd to pester vs with Message, Importing the surrender of those Lands Lost by his Father: with all Bonds of Law To our most valiant Brother. So much for him. Enter Voltemand and Cornelius.

Now for our selfe, and for this time of meeting Thus much the businesse is. We haue heere writ To Norway, Vncle of young Fortinbras, Who Impotent and Bedrid, scarsely heares Of this his Nephewes purpose, to suppresse His further gate heerein. In that the Leuies, The Lists, and full proportions are all made Out of his subiect: and we heere dispatch You good Cornelius, and you Voltemand, For bearing of this greeting to old Norway, Giuing to you no further personall power To businesse with the King, more then the scope Of these dilated Articles allow: Farewell, and let your hast commend your duty

Volt. In that, and all things, will we shew our duty

King. We doubt it nothing, heartily farewell.

Exit Voltemand and Cornelius.

And now Laertes, what's the newes with you? You told vs of some suite. What is't Laertes? You cannot speake of Reason to the Dane, And loose your voyce. What would'st thou beg Laertes, That shall not be my Offer, not thy Asking? The Head is not more Natiue to the Heart, The Hand more instrumentall to the Mouth, Then is the Throne of Denmarke to thy Father. What would'st thou haue Laertes? Laer. Dread my Lord, Your leaue and fauour to returne to France, From whence, though willingly I came to Denmarke To shew my duty in your Coronation, Yet now I must confesse, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend againe towards France, And bow them to your gracious leaue and pardon

King. Haue you your Fathers leaue?
What sayes Pollonius?
Pol. He hath my Lord:
I do beseech you giue him leaue to go

King. Take thy faire houre Laertes, time be thine,
And thy best graces spend it at thy will:
But now my Cosin Hamlet, and my Sonne?
Ham. A little more then kin, and lesse then kinde

King. How is it that the Clouds still hang on you?
Ham. Not so my Lord, I am too much i'th' Sun

Queen. Good Hamlet cast thy nightly colour off, And let thine eye looke like a Friend on Denmarke. Do not for euer with thy veyled lids Seeke for thy Noble Father in the dust; Thou know'st 'tis common, all that liues must dye, Passing through Nature, to Eternity

Ham. I Madam, it is common

Queen. If it be;
Why seemes it so particular with thee

Ham. Seemes Madam? Nay, it is: I know not Seemes: 'Tis not alone my Inky Cloake (good Mother) Nor Customary suites of solemne Blacke, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, No, nor the fruitfull Riuer in the Eye, Nor the deiected hauiour of the Visage, Together with all Formes, Moods, shewes of Griefe, That can denote me truly. These indeed Seeme, For they are actions that a man might play: But I haue that Within, which passeth show; These, but the Trappings, and the Suites of woe

King. 'Tis sweet and commendable In your Nature Hamlet, To giue these mourning duties to your Father: But you must know, your Father lost a Father, That Father lost, lost his, and the Suruiuer bound In filiall Obligation, for some terme To do obsequious Sorrow. But to perseuer In obstinate Condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornnesse. 'Tis vnmanly greefe, It shewes a will most incorrect to Heauen, A Heart vnfortified, a Minde impatient, An Vnderstanding simple, and vnschool'd: For, what we know must be, and is as common As any the most vulgar thing to sence, Why should we in our peeuish Opposition Take it to heart? Fye, 'tis a fault to Heauen, A fault against the Dead, a fault to Nature, To Reason most absurd, whose common Theame Is death of Fathers, and who still hath cried, From the first Coarse, till he that dyed to day, This must be so. We pray you throw to earth This vnpreuayling woe, and thinke of vs As of a Father; For let the world take note, You are the most immediate to our Throne, And with no lesse Nobility of Loue, Then that which deerest Father beares his Sonne, Do I impart towards you. For your intent In going backe to Schoole in Wittenberg, It is most retrograde to our desire: And we beseech you, bend you to remaine Heere in the cheere and comfort of our eye, Our cheefest Courtier Cosin, and our Sonne

Qu. Let not thy Mother lose her Prayers Hamlet:
I prythee stay with vs, go not to Wittenberg

Ham. I shall in all my best
Obey you Madam

King. Why 'tis a louing, and a faire Reply, Be as our selfe in Denmarke. Madam come, This gentle and vnforc'd accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to my heart; in grace whereof, No iocond health that Denmarke drinkes to day, But the great Cannon to the Clowds shall tell, And the Kings Rouce, the Heauens shall bruite againe, Respeaking earthly Thunder. Come away.

Exeunt.

Manet Hamlet.

Ham. Oh that this too too solid Flesh, would melt, Thaw, and resolue it selfe into a Dew: Or that the Euerlasting had not fixt His Cannon 'gainst Selfe-slaughter. O God, O God! How weary, stale, flat, and vnprofitable Seemes to me all the vses of this world? Fie on't? Oh fie, fie, 'tis an vnweeded Garden That growes to Seed: Things rank, and grosse in Nature Possesse it meerely. That it should come to this: But two months dead: Nay, not so much; not two, So excellent a King, that was to this Hiperion to a Satyre: so louing to my Mother, That he might not beteene the windes of heauen Visit her face too roughly. Heauen and Earth Must I remember: why she would hang on him, As if encrease of Appetite had growne By what is fed on; and yet within a month? Let me not thinke on't: Frailty, thy name is woman. A little Month, or ere those shooes were old, With which she followed my poore Fathers body Like Niobe, all teares. Why she, euen she. (O Heauen! A beast that wants discourse of Reason Would haue mourn'd longer) married with mine Vnkle, My Fathers Brother: but no more like my Father, Then I to Hercules. Within a Moneth? Ere yet the salt of most vnrighteous Teares Had left the flushing of her gauled eyes, She married. O most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to Incestuous sheets: It is not, nor it cannot come to good. But breake my heart, for I must hold my tongue. Enter Horatio, Barnardo, and Marcellus.

Hor. Haile to your Lordship

Ham. I am glad to see you well:
Horatio, or I do forget my selfe

Hor. The same my Lord,
And your poore Seruant euer

Ham. Sir my good friend, Ile change that name with you: And what make you from Wittenberg Horatio? Marcellus

Mar. My good Lord

Ham. I am very glad to see you: good euen Sir.
But what in faith make you from Wittemberge?
Hor. A truant disposition, good my Lord

Ham. I would not haue your Enemy say so; Nor shall you doe mine eare that violence, To make it truster of your owne report Against your selfe. I know you are no Truant: But what is your affaire in Elsenour? Wee'l teach you to drinke deepe, ere you depart

Hor. My Lord, I came to see your Fathers Funerall

Ham. I pray thee doe not mock me (fellow Student)
I thinke it was to see my Mothers Wedding

Hor. Indeed my Lord, it followed hard vpon

Ham. Thrift thrift Horatio: the Funerall Bakt-meats Did coldly furnish forth the Marriage Tables; Would I had met my dearest foe in heauen, Ere I had euer seene that day Horatio. My father, me thinkes I see my father

Hor. Oh where my Lord?
Ham. In my minds eye (Horatio)
Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly King

Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all:
I shall not look vpon his like againe

Hor. My Lord, I thinke I saw him yesternight

Ham. Saw? Who?
Hor. My Lord, the King your Father

Ham. The King my Father? Hor. Season your admiration for a while With an attent eare; till I may deliuer Vpon the witnesse of these Gentlemen, This maruell to you

Ham. For Heauens loue let me heare

Hor. Two nights together, had these Gentlemen (Marcellus and Barnardo) on their Watch In the dead wast and middle of the night Beene thus encountred. A figure like your Father, Arm'd at all points exactly, Cap a Pe, Appeares before them, and with sollemne march Goes slow and stately: By them thrice he walkt, By their opprest and feare-surprized eyes, Within his Truncheons length; whilst they bestil'd Almost to Ielly with the Act of feare, Stand dumbe and speake not to him. This to me In dreadfull secrecie impart they did, And I with them the third Night kept the Watch, Whereas they had deliuer'd both in time, Forme of the thing; each word made true and good, The Apparition comes. I knew your Father: These hands are not more like

Ham. But where was this?
Mar. My Lord vpon the platforme where we watcht

Ham. Did you not speake to it? Hor. My Lord, I did; But answere made it none: yet once me thought It lifted vp it head, and did addresse It selfe to motion, like as it would speake: But euen then, the Morning Cocke crew lowd; And at the sound it shrunke in hast away, And vanisht from our sight

Ham. Tis very strange

Hor. As I doe liue my honourd Lord 'tis true; And we did thinke it writ downe in our duty To let you know of it

Ham. Indeed, indeed Sirs; but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch to Night?
Both. We doe my Lord

Ham. Arm'd, say you?
Both. Arm'd, my Lord

Ham. From top to toe?
Both. My Lord, from head to foote

Ham. Then saw you not his face?
Hor. O yes, my Lord, he wore his Beauer vp

Ham. What, lookt he frowningly?
Hor. A countenance more in sorrow then in anger

Ham. Pale, or red?
Hor. Nay very pale

Ham. And fixt his eyes vpon you?
Hor. Most constantly

Ham. I would I had beene there

Hor. It would haue much amaz'd you

Ham. Very like, very like: staid it long?
Hor. While one with moderate hast might tell a hundred

All. Longer, longer

Hor. Not when I saw't

Ham. His Beard was grisly? no

Hor. It was, as I haue seene it in his life,
A Sable Siluer'd

Ham. Ile watch to Night; perchance 'twill wake againe

Hor. I warrant you it will

Ham. If it assume my noble Fathers person, Ile speake to it, though Hell it selfe should gape And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, If you haue hitherto conceald this sight; Let it bee treble in your silence still: And whatsoeuer els shall hap to night, Giue it an vnderstanding but no tongue; I will requite your loues; so fare ye well: Vpon the Platforme twixt eleuen and twelue, Ile visit you

All. Our duty to your Honour.

Exeunt

Ham. Your loue, as mine to you: farewell. My Fathers Spirit in Armes? All is not well: I doubt some foule play: would the Night were come; Till then sit still my soule; foule deeds will rise, Though all the earth orewhelm them to mens eies. Enter.

Scena Tertia

Enter Laertes and Ophelia.

Laer. My necessaries are imbark't; Farewell: And Sister, as the Winds giue Benefit, And Conuoy is assistant; doe not sleepe, But let me heare from you

Ophel. Doe you doubt that? Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his fauours, Hold it a fashion and a toy in Bloude; A Violet in the youth of Primy Nature; Froward, not permanent; sweet not lasting The suppliance of a minute? No more

Ophel. No more but so

Laer. Thinke it no more: For nature cressant does not grow alone, In thewes and Bulke: but as his Temple waxes, The inward seruice of the Minde and Soule Growes wide withall. Perhaps he loues you now, And now no soyle nor cautell doth besmerch The vertue of his feare: but you must feare His greatnesse weigh'd, his will is not his owne; For hee himselfe is subiect to his Birth: Hee may not, as vnuallued persons doe, Carue for himselfe; for, on his choyce depends The sanctity and health of the whole State. And therefore must his choyce be circumscrib'd Vnto the voyce and yeelding of that Body, Whereof he is the Head. Then if he sayes he loues you, It fits your wisedome so farre to beleeue it; As he in his peculiar Sect and force May giue his saying deed: which is no further, Then the maine voyce of Denmarke goes withall. Then weight what losse your Honour may sustaine, If with too credent eare you list his Songs; Or lose your Heart; or your chast Treasure open To his vnmastred importunity. Feare it Ophelia, feare it my deare Sister, And keepe within the reare of your Affection; Out of the shot and danger of Desire. The chariest Maid is Prodigall enough, If she vnmaske her beauty to the Moone: Vertue it selfe scapes not calumnious stroakes, The Canker Galls, the Infants of the Spring Too oft before the buttons be disclos'd, And in the Morne and liquid dew of Youth, Contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary then, best safety lies in feare; Youth to it selfe rebels, though none else neere

Ophe. I shall th' effect of this good Lesson keepe, As watchmen to my heart: but good my Brother Doe not as some vngracious Pastors doe, Shew me the steepe and thorny way to Heauen; Whilst like a puft and recklesse Libertine Himselfe, the Primrose path of dalliance treads, And reaks not his owne reade

Laer. Oh, feare me not.
Enter Polonius.

I stay too long; but here my Father comes: A double blessing is a double grace; Occasion smiles vpon a second leaue

Polon. Yet heere Laertes? Aboord, aboord for shame, The winde sits in the shoulder of your saile, And you are staid for there: my blessing with you; And these few Precepts in thy memory, See thou Character. Giue thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any vnproportion'd thoughts his Act: Be thou familiar; but by no meanes vulgar: The friends thou hast, and their adoption tride, Grapple them to thy Soule, with hoopes of Steele: But doe not dull thy palme, with entertainment Of each vnhatch't, vnfledg'd Comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrell: but being in Bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee. Giue euery man thine eare; but few thy voyce: Take each mans censure; but reserue thy iudgement: Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy; But not exprest in fancie; rich, not gawdie: For the Apparell oft proclaimes the man. And they in France of the best ranck and station, Are of a most select and generous cheff in that. Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; For lone oft loses both it selfe and friend: And borrowing duls the edge of Husbandry. This aboue all; to thine owne selfe be true: And it must follow, as the Night the Day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell: my Blessing season this in thee

Laer. Most humbly doe I take my leaue, my Lord

Polon. The time inuites you, goe, your seruants tend

Laer. Farewell Ophelia, and remember well
What I haue said to you

Ophe. Tis in my memory lockt,
And you your selfe shall keepe the key of it

Laer. Farewell.

Exit Laer.

Polon. What ist Ophelia he hath said to you?
Ophe. So please you, somthing touching the L[ord]. Hamlet

Polon. Marry, well bethought: Tis told me he hath very oft of late Giuen priuate time to you; and you your selfe Haue of your audience beene most free and bounteous. If it be so, as so tis put on me; And that in way of caution: I must tell you, You doe not vnderstand your selfe so cleerely, As it behoues my Daughter, and your Honour. What is betweene you, giue me vp the truth? Ophe. He hath my Lord of late, made many tenders Of his affection to me

Polon. Affection, puh. You speake like a greene Girle,
Vnsifted in such perillous Circumstance.
Doe you beleeue his tenders, as you call them?
Ophe. I do not know, my Lord, what I should thinke

Polon. Marry Ile teach you; thinke your selfe a Baby, That you haue tane his tenders for true pay, Which are not starling. Tender your selfe more dearly; Or not to crack the winde of the poore Phrase, Roaming it thus, you'l tender me a foole

Ophe. My Lord, he hath importun'd me with loue,
In honourable fashion

Polon. I, fashion you may call it, go too, go too

Ophe. And hath giuen countenance to his speech,
My Lord, with all the vowes of Heauen

Polon. I, Springes to catch Woodcocks. I doe know When the Bloud burnes, how Prodigall the Soule Giues the tongue vowes: these blazes, Daughter, Giuing more light then heate; extinct in both, Euen in their promise, as it is a making; You must not take for fire. For this time Daughter, Be somewhat scanter of your Maiden presence; Set your entreatments at a higher rate, Then a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Beleeue so much in him, that he is young, And with a larger tether may he walke, Then may be giuen you. In few, Ophelia, Doe not beleeue his vowes; for they are Broakers, Not of the eye, which their Inuestments show: But meere implorators of vnholy Sutes, Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds, The better to beguile. This is for all: I would not, in plaine tearmes, from this time forth, Haue you so slander any moment leisure, As to giue words or talke with the Lord Hamlet: Looke too't, I charge you; come your wayes

Ophe. I shall obey my Lord.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus.

Ham. The Ayre bites shrewdly: is it very cold?
Hor. It is a nipping and an eager ayre

Ham. What hower now?
Hor. I thinke it lacks of twelue

Mar. No, it is strooke

Hor. Indeed I heard it not: then it drawes neere the season, Wherein the Spirit held his wont to walke. What does this meane my Lord? Ham. The King doth wake to night, and takes his rouse, Keepes wassels and the swaggering vpspring reeles, And as he dreines his draughts of Renish downe, The kettle Drum and Trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his Pledge

Horat. Is it a custome? Ham. I marry ist; And to my mind, though I am natiue heere, And to the manner borne: It is a Custome More honour'd in the breach, then the obseruance. Enter Ghost.

Hor. Looke my Lord, it comes

Ham. Angels and Ministers of Grace defend vs: Be thou a Spirit of health, or Goblin damn'd, Bring with thee ayres from Heauen, or blasts from Hell, Be thy euents wicked or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape That I will speake to thee. Ile call thee Hamlet, King, Father, Royall Dane: Oh, oh, answer me, Let me not burst in Ignorance; but tell Why thy Canoniz'd bones Hearsed in death, Haue burst their cerments, why the Sepulcher Wherein we saw thee quietly enurn'd, Hath op'd his ponderous and Marble iawes, To cast thee vp againe? What may this meane? That thou dead Coarse againe in compleat steele, Reuisits thus the glimpses of the Moone, Making Night hidious? And we fooles of Nature, So horridly to shake our disposition, With thoughts beyond thee; reaches of our Soules, Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we doe?

Ghost beckens Hamlet.

Hor. It beckons you to goe away with it, As if it some impartment did desire To you alone

Mar. Looke with what courteous action It wafts you to a more remoued ground: But doe not goe with it

Hor. No, by no meanes

Ham. It will not speake: then will I follow it

Hor. Doe not my Lord

Ham. Why, what should be the feare? I doe not set my life at a pins fee; And for my Soule, what can it doe to that? Being a thing immortall as it selfe: It waues me forth againe; Ile follow it

Hor. What if it tempt you toward the Floud my Lord? Or to the dreadfull Sonnet of the Cliffe, That beetles o're his base into the Sea, And there assumes some other horrible forme, Which might depriue your Soueraignty of Reason, And draw you into madnesse thinke of it? Ham. It wafts me still: goe on, Ile follow thee

Mar. You shall not goe my Lord

Ham. Hold off your hand

Hor. Be rul'd, you shall not goe

Ham. My fate cries out, And makes each petty Artire in this body, As hardy as the Nemian Lions nerue: Still am I cal'd? Vnhand me Gentlemen: By Heau'n, Ile make a Ghost of him that lets me: I say away, goe on, Ile follow thee.

Exeunt. Ghost & Hamlet.

Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination

Mar. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him

Hor. Haue after, to what issue will this come?
Mar. Something is rotten in the State of Denmarke

Hor. Heauen will direct it

Mar. Nay, let's follow him.

Exeunt.

Enter Ghost and Hamlet.

Ham. Where wilt thou lead me? speak; Ile go no further

Gho. Marke me

Ham. I will

Gho. My hower is almost come, When I to sulphurous and tormenting Flames Must render vp my selfe

Ham. Alas poore Ghost

Gho. Pitty me not, but lend thy serious hearing
To what I shall vnfold

Ham. Speake, I am bound to heare

Gho. So art thou to reuenge, when thou shalt heare

Ham. What? Gho. I am thy Fathers Spirit, Doom'd for a certaine terme to walke the night; And for the day confin'd to fast in Fiers, Till the foule crimes done in my dayes of Nature Are burnt and purg'd away? But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my Prison-House; I could a Tale vnfold, whose lightest word Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like Starres, start from their Spheres, Thy knotty and combined lockes to part, And each particular haire to stand an end, Like Quilles vpon the fretfull Porpentine: But this eternall blason must not be To eares of flesh and bloud; list Hamlet, oh list, If thou didst euer thy deare Father loue

Ham. Oh Heauen!
Gho. Reuenge his foule and most vnnaturall Murther

Ham. Murther?
Ghost. Murther most foule, as in the best it is;
But this most foule, strange, and vnnaturall

Ham. Hast, hast me to know it, That with wings as swift As meditation, or the thoughts of Loue, May sweepe to my Reuenge

Ghost. I finde thee apt, And duller should'st thou be then the fat weede That rots it selfe in ease, on Lethe Wharfe, Would'st thou not stirre in this. Now Hamlet heare: It's giuen out, that sleeping in mine Orchard, A Serpent stung me: so the whole eare of Denmarke, Is by a forged processe of my death Rankly abus'd: But know thou Noble youth, The Serpent that did sting thy Fathers life, Now weares his Crowne

Ham. O my Propheticke soule: mine Vncle? Ghost. I that incestuous, that adulterate Beast With witchcraft of his wits, hath Traitorous guifts. Oh wicked Wit, and Gifts, that haue the power So to seduce? Won to this shamefull Lust The will of my most seeming vertuous Queene: Oh Hamlet, what a falling off was there, From me, whose loue was of that dignity, That it went hand in hand, euen with the Vow I made to her in Marriage; and to decline Vpon a wretch, whose Naturall gifts were poore To those of mine. But Vertue, as it neuer wil be moued, Though Lewdnesse court it in a shape of Heauen: So Lust, though to a radiant Angell link'd, Will sate it selfe in a Celestiall bed, & prey on Garbage. But soft, me thinkes I sent the Mornings Ayre; Briefe let me be: Sleeping within mine Orchard, My custome alwayes in the afternoone; Vpon my secure hower thy Vncle stole With iuyce of cursed Hebenon in a Violl, And in the Porches of mine eares did poure The leaperous Distilment; whose effect Holds such an enmity with bloud of Man, That swift as Quick-siluer, it courses through The naturall Gates and Allies of the body; And with a sodaine vigour it doth posset And curd, like Aygre droppings into Milke, The thin and wholsome blood: so did it mine; And a most instant Tetter bak'd about, Most Lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, All my smooth Body. Thus was I, sleeping, by a Brothers hand, Of Life, of Crowne, and Queene at once dispatcht; Cut off euen in the Blossomes of my Sinne, Vnhouzzled, disappointed, vnnaneld, No reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head; Oh horrible Oh horrible, most horrible: If thou hast nature in thee beare it not; Let not the Royall Bed of Denmarke be A Couch for Luxury and damned Incest. But howsoeuer thou pursuest this Act, Taint not thy mind; nor let thy Soule contriue Against thy Mother ought; leaue her to heauen, And to those Thornes that in her bosome lodge, To pricke and sting her. Fare thee well at once; The Glow-worme showes the Matine to be neere, And gins to pale his vneffectuall Fire: Adue, adue, Hamlet: remember me. Enter.

Ham. Oh all you host of Heauen! Oh Earth; what els? And shall I couple Hell? Oh fie: hold my heart; And you my sinnewes, grow not instant Old; But beare me stiffely vp: Remember thee? I, thou poore Ghost, while memory holds a seate In this distracted Globe: Remember thee? Yea, from the Table of my Memory, Ile wipe away all triuiall fond Records, All sawes of Bookes, all formes, all presures past, That youth and obseruation coppied there; And thy Commandment all alone shall liue Within the Booke and Volume of my Braine, Vnmixt with baser matter; yes yes, by Heauen: Oh most pernicious woman! Oh Villaine, Villaine, smiling damned Villaine! My Tables, my Tables; meet it is I set it downe, That one may smile, and smile and be a Villaine; At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmarke; So Vnckle there you are: now to my word; It is; Adue, Adue, Remember me: I haue sworn't

Hor. & Mar. within. My Lord, my Lord.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Mar. Lord Hamlet

Hor. Heauen secure him

Mar. So be it

Hor. Illo, ho, ho, my Lord

Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy; come bird, come

Mar. How ist my Noble Lord?
Hor. What newes, my Lord?
Ham. Oh wonderfull!
Hor. Good my Lord tell it

Ham. No you'l reueale it

Hor. Not I, my Lord, by Heauen

Mar. Nor I, my Lord

Ham. How say you then, would heart of man once think it?
But you'l be secret?
Both. I, by Heau'n, my Lord

Ham. There's nere a villaine dwelling in all Denmarke
But hee's an arrant knaue

Hor. There needs no Ghost my Lord, come from the
Graue, to tell vs this

Ham. Why right, you are i'th' right; And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands, and part: You, as your busines and desires shall point you: For euery man ha's businesse and desire, Such as it is: and for mine owne poore part, Looke you, Ile goe pray

Hor. These are but wild and hurling words, my Lord

Ham. I'm sorry they offend you heartily:
Yes faith, heartily

Hor. There's no offence my Lord

Ham. Yes, by Saint Patricke, but there is my Lord, And much offence too, touching this Vision heere: It is an honest Ghost, that let me tell you: For your desire to know what is betweene vs, O'remaster't as you may. And now good friends, As you are Friends, Schollers and Soldiers, Giue me one poore request

Hor. What is't my Lord? we will

Ham. Neuer make known what you haue seen to night

Both. My Lord, we will not

Ham. Nay, but swear't

Hor. Infaith my Lord, not I

Mar. Nor I my Lord: in faith

Ham. Vpon my sword

Marcell. We haue sworne my Lord already

Ham. Indeed, vpon my sword, Indeed

Gho. Sweare.

Ghost cries vnder the Stage.

Ham. Ah ha boy, sayest thou so. Art thou there truepenny? Come one you here this fellow in the selleredge Consent to sweare

Hor. Propose the Oath my Lord

Ham. Neuer to speake of this that you haue seene.
Sweare by my sword

Gho. Sweare

Ham. Hic & vbique? Then wee'l shift for grownd, Come hither Gentlemen, And lay your hands againe vpon my sword, Neuer to speake of this that you haue heard: Sweare by my Sword

Gho. Sweare

Ham. Well said old Mole, can'st worke i'th' ground so fast?
A worthy Pioner, once more remoue good friends

Hor. Oh day and night: but this is wondrous strange

Ham. And therefore as a stranger giue it welcome. There are more things in Heauen and Earth, Horatio, Then are dream't of in our Philosophy. But come, Here as before, neuer so helpe you mercy, How strange or odde so ere I beare my selfe; (As I perchance heereafter shall thinke meet To put an Anticke disposition on:) That you at such time seeing me, neuer shall With Armes encombred thus, or thus, head shake; Or by pronouncing of some doubtfull Phrase; As well, we know, or we could and if we would, Or if we list to speake; or there be and if there might, Or such ambiguous giuing out to note, That you know ought of me; this not to doe: So grace and mercy at your most neede helpe you: Sweare

Ghost. Sweare

Ham. Rest, rest perturbed Spirit: so Gentlemen, With all my loue I doe commend me to you; And what so poore a man as Hamlet is, May doe t' expresse his loue and friending to you, God willing shall not lacke: let vs goe in together, And still your fingers on your lippes I pray, The time is out of ioynt: Oh cursed spight, That euer I was borne to set it right. Nay, come let's goe together.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Polonius, and Reynoldo.

Polon. Giue him his money, and these notes Reynoldo

Reynol. I will my Lord

Polon. You shall doe maruels wisely: good Reynoldo, Before you visite him you make inquiry Of his behauiour

Reynol. My Lord, I did intend it

Polon. Marry, well said; Very well said. Looke you Sir, Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who; what meanes; and where they keepe: What company, at what expence: and finding By this encompassement and drift of question, That they doe know my sonne: Come you more neerer Then your particular demands will touch it, Take you as 'twere some distant knowledge of him, And thus I know his father and his friends, And in part him. Doe you marke this Reynoldo? Reynol. I, very well my Lord

Polon. And in part him, but you may say not well; But if't be hee I meane, hees very wilde; Addicted so and so; and there put on him What forgeries you please; marry, none so ranke, As may dishonour him; take heed of that: But Sir, such wanton, wild, and vsuall slips, As are Companions noted and most knowne To youth and liberty

Reynol. As gaming my Lord

Polon. I, or drinking, fencing, swearing,
Quarelling, drabbing. You may goe so farre

Reynol. My Lord that would dishonour him

Polon. Faith no, as you may season it in the charge; You must not put another scandall on him, That hee is open to Incontinencie; That's not my meaning: but breath his faults so quaintly, That they may seeme the taints of liberty; The flash and out-breake of a fiery minde, A sauagenes in vnreclaim'd bloud of generall assault

Reynol. But my good Lord

Polon. Wherefore should you doe this?
Reynol. I my Lord, I would know that

Polon. Marry Sir, heere's my drift, And I belieue it is a fetch of warrant: You laying these slight sulleyes on my Sonne, As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i'th' working: Marke you your party in conuerse; him you would sound, Hauing euer seene. In the prenominate crimes, The youth you breath of guilty, be assur'd He closes with you in this consequence: Good sir, or so, or friend, or Gentleman. According to the Phrase and the Addition, Of man and Country

Reynol. Very good my Lord

Polon. And then Sir does he this? He does: what was I about to say? I was about say somthing: where did I leaue? Reynol. At closes in the consequence: At friend, or so, and Gentleman

Polon. At closes in the consequence, I marry, He closes with you thus. I know the Gentleman, I saw him yesterday, or tother day; Or then or then, with such and such; and as you say, There was he gaming, there o'retooke in's Rouse, There falling out at Tennis; or perchance, I saw him enter such a house of saile; Videlicet, a Brothell, or so forth. See you now; Your bait of falshood, takes this Cape of truth; And thus doe we of wisedome and of reach With windlesses, and with assaies of Bias, By indirections finde directions out: So by my former Lecture and aduice Shall you my Sonne; you haue me, haue you not? Reynol. My Lord I haue

Polon. God buy you; fare you well

Reynol. Good my Lord

Polon. Obserue his inclination in your selfe

Reynol. I shall my Lord

Polon. And let him plye his Musicke

Reynol. Well, my Lord.
Enter.

Enter Ophelia.

Polon. Farewell:
How now Ophelia, what's the matter?
Ophe. Alas my Lord, I haue beene so affrighted

Polon. With what, in the name of Heauen? Ophe. My Lord, as I was sowing in my Chamber, Lord Hamlet with his doublet all vnbrac'd, No hat vpon his head, his stockings foul'd, Vngartred, and downe giued to his Anckle, Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a looke so pitious in purport, As if he had been loosed out of hell, To speake of horrors: he comes before me

Polon. Mad for thy Loue?
Ophe. My Lord, I doe not know: but truly I do feare it

Polon. What said he? Ophe. He tooke me by the wrist, and held me hard; Then goes he to the length of all his arme; And with his other hand thus o're his brow, He fals to such perusall of my face, As he would draw it. Long staid he so, At last, a little shaking of mine Arme: And thrice his head thus wauing vp and downe; He rais'd a sigh, so pittious and profound, That it did seeme to shatter all his bulke, And end his being. That done, he lets me goe, And with his head ouer his shoulders turn'd, He seem'd to finde his way without his eyes, For out adores he went without their helpe; And to the last, bended their light on me

Polon. Goe with me, I will goe seeke the King, This is the very extasie of Loue, Whose violent property foredoes it selfe, And leads the will to desperate Vndertakings, As oft as any passion vnder Heauen, That does afflict our Natures. I am sorrie, What haue you giuen him any hard words of late? Ophe. No my good Lord: but as you did command, I did repell his Letters, and deny'de His accesse to me

Pol. That hath made him mad. I am sorrie that with better speed and iudgement I had not quoted him. I feare he did but trifle, And meant to wracke thee: but beshrew my iealousie: It seemes it is as proper to our Age, To cast beyond our selues in our Opinions, As it is common for the yonger sort To lacke discretion. Come, go we to the King, This must be knowne, being kept close might moue More greefe to hide, then hate to vtter loue.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter King, Queene, Rosincrane, and Guildensterne Cum alijs.

King. Welcome deere Rosincrance and Guildensterne. Moreouer, that we much did long to see you, The neede we haue to vse you, did prouoke Our hastie sending. Something haue you heard Of Hamlets transformation: so I call it, Since not th' exterior, nor the inward man Resembles that it was. What it should bee More then his Fathers death, that thus hath put him So much from th' vnderstanding of himselfe, I cannot deeme of. I intreat you both, That being of so young dayes brought vp with him: And since so Neighbour'd to his youth, and humour, That you vouchsafe your rest heere in our Court Some little time: so by your Companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather So much as from Occasions you may gleane, That open'd lies within our remedie

Qu. Good Gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you, And sure I am, two men there are not liuing, To whom he more adheres. If it will please you To shew vs so much Gentrie, and good will, As to expend your time with vs a-while, For the supply and profit of our Hope, Your Visitation shall receiue such thankes As fits a Kings remembrance

Rosin. Both your Maiesties Might by the Soueraigne power you haue of vs, Put your dread pleasures, more into Command Then to Entreatie

Guil. We both obey, And here giue vp our selues, in the full bent, To lay our Seruices freely at your feete, To be commanded

King. Thankes Rosincrance, and gentle Guildensterne

Qu. Thankes Guildensterne and gentle Rosincrance. And I beseech you instantly to visit My too much changed Sonne. Go some of ye, And bring the Gentlemen where Hamlet is

Guil. Heauens make our presence and our practises Pleasant and helpfull to him. Enter.

Queene. Amen.
Enter Polonius.

Pol. Th' Ambassadors from Norwey, my good Lord,
Are ioyfully return'd

King. Thou still hast bin the father of good Newes

Pol. Haue I, my Lord? Assure you, my good Liege, I hold my dutie, as I hold my Soule, Both to my God, one to my gracious King: And I do thinke, or else this braine of mine Hunts not the traile of Policie, so sure As I haue vs'd to do: that I haue found The very cause of Hamlets Lunacie

King. Oh speake of that, that I do long to heare

Pol. Giue first admittance to th' Ambassadors,
My Newes shall be the Newes to that great Feast

King. Thy selfe do grace to them, and bring them in. He tels me my sweet Queene, that he hath found The head and sourse of all your Sonnes distemper

Qu. I doubt it is no other, but the maine, His Fathers death, and our o're-hasty Marriage. Enter Polonius, Voltumand, and Cornelius.

King. Well, we shall sift him. Welcome good Frends: Say Voltumand, what from our Brother Norwey? Volt. Most faire returne of Greetings, and Desires. Vpon our first, he sent out to suppresse His Nephewes Leuies, which to him appear'd To be a preparation 'gainst the Poleak: But better look'd into, he truly found It was against your Highnesse, whereat greeued, That so his Sicknesse, Age, and Impotence Was falsely borne in hand, sends out Arrests On Fortinbras, which he (in breefe) obeyes, Receiues rebuke from Norwey: and in fine, Makes Vow before his Vnkle, neuer more To giue th' assay of Armes against your Maiestie. Whereon old Norwey, ouercome with ioy, Giues him three thousand Crownes in Annuall Fee, And his Commission to imploy those Soldiers So leuied as before, against the Poleak: With an intreaty heerein further shewne, That it might please you to giue quiet passe Through your Dominions, for his Enterprize, On such regards of safety and allowance, As therein are set downe

King. It likes vs well: And at our more consider'd time wee'l read, Answer, and thinke vpon this Businesse. Meane time we thanke you, for your well-tooke Labour. Go to your rest, at night wee'l Feast together. Most welcome home.

Exit Ambass.

Pol. This businesse is very well ended. My Liege, and Madam, to expostulate What Maiestie should be, what Dutie is, Why day is day; night, night; and time is time, Were nothing but to waste Night, Day, and Time. Therefore, since Breuitie is the Soule of Wit, And tediousnesse, the limbes and outward flourishes, I will be breefe. Your Noble Sonne is mad: Mad call I it; for to define true Madnesse, What is't, but to be nothing else but mad. But let that go

Qu. More matter, with lesse Art

Pol. Madam, I sweare I vse no Art at all: That he is mad, 'tis true: 'Tis true 'tis pittie, And pittie it is true: A foolish figure, But farewell it: for I will vse no Art. Mad let vs grant him then: and now remaines That we finde out the cause of this effect, Or rather say, the cause of this defect; For this effect defectiue, comes by cause, Thus it remaines, and the remainder thus. Perpend, I haue a daughter: haue, whil'st she is mine, Who in her Dutie and Obedience, marke, Hath giuen me this: now gather, and surmise.

The Letter.

To the Celestiall, and my Soules Idoll, the most beautifed Ophelia. That's an ill Phrase, a vilde Phrase, beautified is a vilde Phrase: but you shall heare these in her excellent white bosome, these

Qu. Came this from Hamlet to her

Pol. Good Madam stay awhile, I will be faithfull. Doubt thou, the Starres are fire, Doubt, that the Sunne doth moue: Doubt Truth to be a Lier, But neuer Doubt, I loue. O deere Ophelia, I am ill at these Numbers: I haue not Art to reckon my grones; but that I loue thee best, oh most Best beleeue it. Adieu. Thine euermore most deere Lady, whilst this Machine is to him, Hamlet. This in Obedience hath my daughter shew'd me: And more aboue hath his soliciting, As they fell out by Time, by Meanes, and Place, All giuen to mine eare

King. But how hath she receiu'd his Loue?
Pol. What do you thinke of me?
King. As of a man, faithfull and Honourable

Pol. I wold faine proue so. But what might you think? When I had seene this hot loue on the wing, As I perceiued it, I must tell you that Before my Daughter told me what might you Or my deere Maiestie your Queene heere, think, If I had playd the Deske or Table-booke, Or giuen my heart a winking, mute and dumbe, Or look'd vpon this Loue, with idle sight, What might you thinke? No, I went round to worke, And (my yong Mistris) thus I did bespeake Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy Starre, This must not be: and then, I Precepts gaue her, That she should locke her selfe from his Resort, Admit no Messengers, receiue no Tokens: Which done, she tooke the Fruites of my Aduice, And he repulsed. A short Tale to make, Fell into a Sadnesse, then into a Fast, Thence to a Watch, thence into a Weaknesse, Thence to a Lightnesse, and by this declension Into the Madnesse whereon now he raues, And all we waile for

King. Do you thinke 'tis this?
Qu. It may be very likely

Pol. Hath there bene such a time, I'de fain know that,
That I haue possitiuely said, 'tis so,
When it prou'd otherwise?
King. Not that I know

Pol. Take this from this; if this be otherwise, If Circumstances leade me, I will finde Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeede Within the Center

King. How may we try it further?
Pol. You know sometimes
He walkes foure houres together, heere
In the Lobby

Qu. So he ha's indeed

Pol. At such a time Ile loose my Daughter to him, Be you and I behinde an Arras then, Marke the encounter: If he loue her not, And be not from his reason falne thereon; Let me be no Assistant for a State, And keepe a Farme and Carters

King. We will try it.
Enter Hamlet reading on a Booke.

Qu. But looke where sadly the poore wretch
Comes reading

Pol. Away I do beseech you, both away,
Ile boord him presently.

Exit King & Queen.

Oh giue me leaue. How does my good Lord Hamlet?
Ham. Well, God-a-mercy

Pol. Do you know me, my Lord?
Ham. Excellent, excellent well: y'are a Fishmonger

Pol. Not I my Lord

Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man

Pol. Honest, my Lord?
Ham. I sir, to be honest as this world goes, is to bee
one man pick'd out of two thousand

Pol. That's very true, my Lord

Ham. For if the Sun breed Magots in a dead dogge,
being a good kissing Carrion-
Haue you a daughter?
Pol. I haue my Lord

Ham. Let her not walke i'thSunne: Conception is a blessing, but not as your daughter may conceiue. Friend looke too't

Pol. How say you by that? Still harping on my daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I was a Fishmonger: he is farre gone, farre gone: and truly in my youth, I suffred much extreamity for loue: very neere this. Ile speake to him againe. What do you read my Lord? Ham. Words, words, words

Pol. What is the matter, my Lord?
Ham. Betweene who?
Pol. I meane the matter you meane, my Lord

Ham. Slanders Sir: for the Satyricall slaue saies here, that old men haue gray Beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thicke Amber, or Plum-Tree Gumme: and that they haue a plentifull locke of Wit, together with weake Hammes. All which Sir, though I most powerfully, and potently beleeue; yet I holde it not Honestie to haue it thus set downe: For you your selfe Sir, should be old as I am, if like a Crab you could go backward

Pol. Though this be madnesse, Yet there is Method in't: will you walke Out of the ayre my Lord? Ham. Into my Graue? Pol. Indeed that is out o'th' Ayre: How pregnant (sometimes) his Replies are? A happinesse, That often Madnesse hits on, Which Reason and Sanitie could not So prosperously be deliuer'd of. I will leaue him, And sodainely contriue the meanes of meeting Betweene him, and my daughter. My Honourable Lord, I will most humbly Take my leaue of you

Ham. You cannot Sir take from me any thing, that I will more willingly part withall, except my life, my life

Polon. Fare you well my Lord

Ham. These tedious old fooles

Polon. You goe to seeke my Lord Hamlet; there hee is. Enter Rosincran and Guildensterne.

Rosin. God saue you Sir

Guild. Mine honour'd Lord?
Rosin. My most deare Lord?
Ham. My excellent good friends? How do'st thou
Guildensterne? Oh, Rosincrane; good Lads: How doe ye
both?
Rosin. As the indifferent Children of the earth

Guild. Happy, in that we are not ouer-happy: on Fortunes
Cap, we are not the very Button

Ham. Nor the Soales of her Shoo?
Rosin. Neither my Lord

Ham. Then you liue about her waste, or in the middle
of her fauour?
Guil. Faith, her priuates, we

Ham. In the secret parts of Fortune? Oh, most true:
she is a Strumpet. What's the newes?
Rosin. None my Lord; but that the World's growne
honest

Ham. Then is Doomesday neere: But your newes is
not true. Let me question more in particular: what haue
you my good friends, deserued at the hands of Fortune,
that she sends you to Prison hither?
Guil. Prison, my Lord?
Ham. Denmark's a Prison

Rosin. Then is the World one

Ham. A goodly one, in which there are many Confines, Wards, and Dungeons; Denmarke being one o'th' worst

Rosin. We thinke not so my Lord

Ham. Why then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me it is a prison

Rosin. Why then your Ambition makes it one: 'tis
too narrow for your minde

Ham. O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count my selfe a King of infinite space; were it not that I haue bad dreames

Guil. Which dreames indeed are Ambition: for the very substance of the Ambitious, is meerely the shadow of a Dreame

Ham. A dreame it selfe is but a shadow

Rosin. Truely, and I hold Ambition of so ayry and
light a quality, that it is but a shadowes shadow

Ham. Then are our Beggers bodies; and our Monarchs
and out-stretcht Heroes the Beggers Shadowes:
shall wee to th' Court: for, by my fey I cannot reason?
Both. Wee'l wait vpon you

Ham. No such matter. I will not sort you with the rest of my seruants: for to speake to you like an honest man: I am most dreadfully attended; but in the beaten way of friendship, What make you at Elsonower? Rosin. To visit you my Lord, no other occasion

Ham. Begger that I am, I am euen poore in thankes; but I thanke you: and sure deare friends my thanks are too deare a halfepeny; were you not sent for? Is it your owne inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, deale iustly with me: come, come; nay speake

Guil. What should we say my Lord? Ham. Why any thing. But to the purpose; you were sent for; and there is a kinde confession in your lookes; which your modesties haue not craft enough to color, I know the good King & Queene haue sent for you

Rosin. To what end my Lord? Ham. That you must teach me: but let mee coniure you by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the Obligation of our euer-preserued loue, and by what more deare, a better proposer could charge you withall; be euen and direct with me, whether you were sent for or no

Rosin. What say you?
Ham. Nay then I haue an eye of you: if you loue me
hold not off

Guil. My Lord, we were sent for

Ham. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation preuent your discouery of your secricie to the King and Queene: moult no feather, I haue of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custome of exercise; and indeed, it goes so heauenly with my disposition; that this goodly frame the Earth, seemes to me a sterrill Promontory; this most excellent Canopy the Ayre, look you, this braue ore-hanging, this Maiesticall Roofe, fretted with golden fire: why, it appeares no other thing to mee, then a foule and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of worke is a man! how Noble in Reason? how infinite in faculty? in forme and mouing how expresse and admirable? in Action, how like an Angel? in apprehension, how like a God? the beauty of the world, the Parragon 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 seeme to say so