The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark

  King. Love? his affections do not that way tend;    Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,    Was not like madness. There's something in his soul    O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;    And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose    Will be some danger; which for to prevent,    I have in quick determination    Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England    For the demand of our neglected tribute.    Haply the seas, and countries different,    With variable objects, shall expel    This something-settled matter in his heart,    Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus    From fashion of himself. What think you on't?  Pol. It shall do well. But yet do I believe    The origin and commencement of his grief    Sprung from neglected love. – How now, Ophelia?    You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said.    We heard it all. – My lord, do as you please;    But if you hold it fit, after the play    Let his queen mother all alone entreat him    To show his grief. Let her be round with him;    And I'll be plac'd so please you, in the ear    Of all their conference. If she find him not,    To England send him; or confine him where    Your wisdom best shall think.  King. It shall be so.    Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. Exeunt.

Scene II. Elsinore. hall in the Castle

Enter Hamlet and three of the Players.

Ham. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as live the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the cars of the groundlings, who (for the most part) are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipp'd for o'erdoing Termagant. It out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it. Player. I warrant your honour. Ham. Be not too tame neither; but let your own discretion be your tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature: for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show Virtue her 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 man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably. Player. I hope we have reform'd that indifferently with us, sir. Ham. 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 mean time some necessary question of the play be then to be considered. That's villanous and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go make you ready. Exeunt Players.

Enter Polonius, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.

    How now, my lord? Will the King hear this piece of work?  Pol. And the Queen too, and that presently.  Ham. Bid the players make haste, [Exit Polonius.] Will you two    help to hasten them?  Both. We will, my lord. Exeunt they two.  Ham. What, ho, Horatio!

Enter Horatio.

  Hor. Here, sweet lord, at your service.  Ham. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man    As e'er my conversation cop'd withal.  Hor. O, my dear lord!  Ham. 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 flatter'd?    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 scald thee for herself. For thou hast been    As one, in suff'ring all, that suffers nothing;    A man that Fortune's buffets and rewards    Hast ta'en with equal thanks; and blest are those    Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled    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 I    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 prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,    Even with the very comment of thy soul    Observe my uncle. If his occulted guilt    Do not itself unkennel in one speech,    It is a 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.  Hor. Well, my lord.    If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing,    And scape detecting, I will pay the theft.    Sound a flourish. [Enter Trumpets and Kettledrums. Danish    march. [Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz,      Guildenstern, and other Lords attendant, with the Guard                       carrying torches.  Ham. They are coming to the play. I must be idle.    Get you a place.  King. How fares our cousin Hamlet?  Ham. Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish. I eat theair,    promise-cramm'd. You cannot feed capons so.  King. I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet. These words arenot    mine.  Ham. No, nor mine now. [To Polonius] My lord, you play'd once    i' th' university, you say?  Pol. That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.  Ham. What did you enact?  Pol. I did enact Julius Caesar; I was kill'd i' th' Capitol;Brutus    kill'd me.  Ham. It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calfthere. Be    the players ready.  Ros. Ay, my lord. They stay upon your patience.  Queen. Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.  Ham. No, good mother. Here's metal more attractive.  Pol. [to the King] O, ho! do you mark that?  Ham. Lady, shall I lie in your lap?                                  [Sits down at Ophelia's feet.]  Oph. No, my lord.  Ham. I mean, my head upon your lap?  Oph. Ay, my lord.  Ham. Do you think I meant country matters?  Oph. I think nothing, my lord.  Ham. That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs.  Oph. What is, my lord?  Ham. Nothing.  Oph. You are merry, my lord.  Ham. Who, I?  Oph. Ay, my lord.  Ham. O God, your only jig-maker! What should a man do but bemerry?    For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my fatherdied    within 's two hours.  Oph. Nay 'tis twice two months, my lord.  Ham. So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for I'll havea    suit of sables. O heavens! die two months ago, and notforgotten    yet? Then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive hislife    half a year. But, by'r Lady, he must build churches then; orelse    shall he suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse, whoseepitaph is 'For O, for O, the hobby-horse is forgot!'Hautboys play. The dumb show enters.

Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck. He lays him down upon a bank of flowers. She, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, pours poison in the sleeper's ears, and leaves him. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner with some three or four Mutes, comes in again, seem to condole with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts; she seems harsh and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love.

Exeunt  Oph. What means this, my lord?  Ham. Marry, this is miching malhecho; it means mischief.  Oph. Belike this show imports the argument of the play.

Enter Prologue.

  Ham. We shall know by this fellow. The players cannot keepcounsel;    they'll tell all.  Oph. Will he tell us what this show meant?  Ham. Ay, or any show that you'll show him. Be not you asham'dto    show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means.  Oph. You are naught, you are naught! I'll mark the play.    Pro. For us, and for our tragedy,      Here stooping to your clemency,      We beg your hearing patiently. [Exit.]  Ham. Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?  Oph. 'Tis brief, my lord.  Ham. As woman's love.

Enter [two Players as] King and Queen.

    King. Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round      Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground,      And thirty dozed moons with borrowed sheen      About the world have times twelve thirties been,      Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands,      Unite comutual in most sacred bands.    Queen. So many journeys may the sun and moon      Make us again count o'er ere love be done!      But woe is me! you are so sick of late,      So far from cheer and from your former state.      That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,      Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must;      For women's fear and love holds quantity,      In neither aught, or in extremity.      Now what my love is, proof hath made you know;      And as my love is siz'd, my fear is so.      Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;      Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.    King. Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too;      My operant powers their functions leave to do.      And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,      Honour'd, belov'd, and haply one as kind      For husband shalt thou-    Queen. O, confound the rest!      Such love must needs be treason in my breast.      When second husband let me be accurst!      None wed the second but who killed the first.Ham. [aside] Wormwood, wormwood!    Queen. The instances that second marriage move      Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.      A second time I kill my husband dead      When second husband kisses me in bed.    King. I do believe you think what now you speak;      But what we do determine oft we break.      Purpose is but the slave to memory,      Of violent birth, but poor validity;      Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree,      But fill unshaken when they mellow be.      Most necessary 'tis that we forget      To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt.      What to ourselves in passion we propose,      The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.      The violence of either grief or joy      Their own enactures with themselves destroy.      Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;      Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.      This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange      That even our loves should with our fortunes change;      For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,      Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.      The great man down, you mark his favourite flies,      The poor advanc'd makes friends of enemies;      And hitherto doth love on fortune tend,      For who not needs shall never lack a friend,      And who in want a hollow friend doth try,      Directly seasons him his enemy.      But, orderly to end where I begun,      Our wills and fates do so contrary run      That our devices still are overthrown;      Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.      So think thou wilt no second husband wed;      But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.    Queen. Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light,      Sport and repose lock from me day and night,      To desperation turn my trust and hope,      An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope,      Each opposite that blanks the face of joy      Meet what I would have well, and it destroy,      Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,      If, once a widow, ever I be wife!Ham. If she should break it now!    King. 'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile.      My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile      The tedious day with sleep.    Queen. Sleep rock thy brain,                                                    [He] sleeps.      And never come mischance between us twain!

Exit.

  Ham. Madam, how like you this play?  Queen. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.  Ham. O, but she'll keep her word.  King. Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in't?  Ham. No, no! They do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i'th'    world.  King. What do you call the play?  Ham. 'The Mousetrap.' Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the    image of a murther done in Vienna. Gonzago is the duke'sname;    his wife, Baptista. You shall see anon. 'Tis a knavish pieceof    work; but what o' that? Your Majesty, and we that have free    souls, it touches us not. Let the gall'd jade winch; ourwithers    are unwrung.

Enter Lucianus.

    This is one Lucianus, nephew to the King.  Oph. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.  Ham. I could interpret between you and your love, if I couldsee    the puppets dallying.  Oph. You are keen, my lord, you are keen.  Ham. It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.  Oph. Still better, and worse.  Ham. So you must take your husbands. – Begin, murtherer. Pox,leave    thy damnable faces, and begin! Come, the croaking raven doth    bellow for revenge.    Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing;      Confederate season, else no creature seeing;      Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,      With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,      Thy natural magic and dire property      On wholesome life usurp immediately.                                   Pours the poison in his ears.  Ham. He poisons him i' th' garden for's estate. His name'sGonzago.    The story is extant, and written in very choice Italian. You    shall see anon how the murtherer gets the love of Gonzago'swife.  Oph. The King rises.  Ham. What, frighted with false fire?  Queen. How fares my lord?  Pol. Give o'er the play.  King. Give me some light! Away!  All. Lights, lights, lights!Exeunt all but Hamlet and Horatio  Ham. Why, let the strucken deer go weep,          The hart ungalled play;         For some must watch, while some must sleep:          Thus runs the world away.    Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers- if the rest ofmy    fortunes turn Turk with me-with two Provincial roses on myraz'd    shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir?  Hor. Half a share.  Ham. A whole one I!         For thou dost know, O Damon dear,           This realm dismantled was         Of Jove himself; and now reigns here           A very, very- pajock.  Hor. You might have rhym'd.  Ham. O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand    pound! Didst perceive?  Hor. Very well, my lord.  Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning?  Hor. I did very well note him.  Ham. Aha! Come, some music! Come, the recorders!         For if the King like not the comedy,         Why then, belike he likes it not, perdy.    Come, some music!

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

  Guil. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.  Ham. Sir, a whole history.  Guil. The King, sir-  Ham. Ay, sir, what of him?  Guil. Is in his retirement, marvellous distemper'd.  Ham. With drink, sir?  Guil. No, my lord; rather with choler.  Ham. Your wisdom should show itself more richer to signify thisto    the doctor; for me to put him to his purgation would perhaps    plunge him into far more choler.  Guil. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, andstart    not so wildly from my affair.  Ham. I am tame, sir; pronounce.  Guil. The Queen, your mother, in most great affliction ofspirit    hath sent me to you.  Ham. You are welcome.  Guil. Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the rightbreed.    If it shall please you to make me a wholesome answer, I willdo    your mother's commandment; if not, your pardon and my return    shall be the end of my business.  Ham. Sir, I cannot.  Guil. What, my lord?  Ham. Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseas'd. But, sir,such    answer is I can make, you shall command; or rather, as yousay,    my mother. Therefore no more, but to the matter! My mother,you    say-  Ros. Then thus she says: your behaviour hath struck her into    amazement and admiration.  Ham. O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother! But isthere no    sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration? Impart.  Ros. She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go tobed.  Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any    further trade with us?  Ros. My lord, you once did love me.  Ham. And do still, by these pickers and stealers!  Ros. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You dosurely    bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your griefsto    your friend.  Ham. Sir, I lack advancement.  Ros. How can that be, when you have the voice of the Kinghimself    for your succession in Denmark?  Ham. Ay, sir, but 'while the grass grows'– the proverb issomething    musty.

Enter the Players with recorders.

    O, the recorders! Let me see one. To withdraw with you- whydo    you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would driveme    into a toil?  Guil. O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is toounmannerly.  Ham. I do not well understand that. Will you play upon thispipe?  Guil. My lord, I cannot.  Ham. I pray you.  Guil. Believe me, I cannot.  Ham. I do beseech you.  Guil. I know, no touch of it, my lord.  Ham. It is as easy as lying. Govern these ventages with your    fingers and thumbs, give it breath with your mouth, and itwill    discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.  Guil. But these cannot I command to any utt'rance of harmony. I    have not the skill.  Ham. Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me!You    would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; youwould    pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my    lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is muchmusic,    excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it    speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be play'd on thana    pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fretme,    you cannot play upon me.

Enter Polonius.

    God bless you, sir!  Pol. My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently.  Ham. Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?  Pol. By th' mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.  Ham. Methinks it is like a weasel.  Pol. It is back'd like a weasel.  Ham. Or like a whale.  Pol. Very like a whale.  Ham. Then will I come to my mother by-and-by. – They fool me tothe    top of my bent. – I will come by-and-by.  Pol. I will say so. Exit.  Ham. 'By-and-by' is easily said. – Leave me, friends.[Exeunt all but Hamlet.]    'Tis now the very witching time of night,    When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out    Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood    And do such bitter business as the day    Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother!    O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever    The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom.    Let me be cruel, not unnatural;    I will speak daggers to her, but use none.    My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites-    How in my words somever she be shent,    To give them seals never, my soul, consent! Exit.

Scene III. A room in the Castle

Enter King, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.

  King. I like him not, nor stands it safe with us    To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;    I your commission will forthwith dispatch,    And he to England shall along with you.    The terms of our estate may not endure    Hazard so near us as doth hourly grow    Out of his lunacies.  Guil. We will ourselves provide.    Most holy and religious fear it is    To keep those many many bodies safe    That live and feed upon your Majesty.  Ros. The single and peculiar life is bound    With all the strength and armour of the mind    To keep itself from noyance; but much more    That spirit upon whose weal depends and rests    The lives of many. The cesse of majesty    Dies not alone, but like a gulf doth draw    What's near it with it. It is a massy wheel,    Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount,    To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things    Are mortis'd and adjoin'd; which when it falls,    Each small annexment, petty consequence,    Attends the boist'rous ruin. Never alone    Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.  King. Arm you, I pray you, to th', speedy voyage;    For we will fetters put upon this fear,    Which now goes too free-footed.  Both. We will haste us.Exeunt Gentlemen

Enter Polonius.

  Pol. My lord, he's going to his mother's closet.    Behind the arras I'll convey myself    To hear the process. I'll warrant she'll tax him home;    And, as you said, and wisely was it said,    'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,    Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear    The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege.    I'll call upon you ere you go to bed    And tell you what I know.  King. Thanks, dear my lord.Exit [Polonius]    O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;    It hath the primal eldest curse upon't,    A brother's murther! Pray can I not,    Though inclination be as sharp as will.    My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent,    And, like a man to double business bound,    I stand in pause where I shall first begin,    And both neglect. What if this cursed hand    Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,    Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens    To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy    But to confront the visage of offence?    And what's in prayer but this twofold force,    To be forestalled ere we come to fall,    Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up;    My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer    Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murther'?    That cannot be; since I am still possess'd    Of those effects for which I did the murther-    My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.    May one be pardon'd and retain th' offence?    In the corrupted currents of this world    Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice,    And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself    Buys out the law; but 'tis not so above.    There is no shuffling; there the action lies    In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd,    Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,    To give in evidence. What then? What rests?    Try what repentance can. What can it not?    Yet what can it when one cannot repent?    O wretched state! O bosom black as death!    O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,    Art more engag'd! Help, angels! Make assay.    Bow, stubborn knees; and heart with strings of steel,    Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!    All may be well. He kneels.

Enter Hamlet.

  Ham. Now might I do it pat, now he is praying;    And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven,    And so am I reveng'd. That would be scann'd.    A villain kills my father; and for that,    I, his sole son, do this same villain send    To heaven.    Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge!    He took my father grossly, full of bread,    With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;    And how his audit stands, who knows save heaven?    But in our circumstance and course of thought,    'Tis heavy with him; and am I then reveng'd,    To take him in the purging of his soul,    When he is fit and seasoned for his passage?    No.    Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent.    When he is drunk asleep; or in his rage;    Or in th' incestuous pleasure of his bed;    At gaming, swearing, or about some act    That has no relish of salvation in't-    Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,    And that his soul may be as damn'd and black    As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays.    This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. Exit.  King. [rises] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below.    Words without thoughts never to heaven go. Exit.

Scene IV. The Queen's closet

Enter Queen and Polonius.

  Pol. He will come straight. Look you lay home to him.    Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,    And that your Grace hath screen'd and stood between    Much heat and him. I'll silence me even here.    Pray you be round with him.  Ham. (within) Mother, mother, mother!  Queen. I'll warrant you; fear me not. Withdraw; I hear himcoming.[Polonius hides behind the arras.]

Enter Hamlet.