The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark

  Ham. Now, mother, what's the matter?  Queen. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.  Ham. Mother, you have my father much offended.  Queen. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.  Ham. Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.  Queen. Why, how now, Hamlet?  Ham. What's the matter now?  Queen. Have you forgot me?  Ham. No, by the rood, not so!    You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife,    And (would it were not so!) you are my mother.  Queen. Nay, then I'll set those to you that can speak.  Ham. Come, come, and sit you down. You shall not budge I    You go not till I set you up a glass    Where you may see the inmost part of you.  Queen. What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murther me?    Help, help, ho!  Pol. [behind] What, ho! help, help, help!  Ham. [draws] How now? a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead!            [Makes a pass through the arras and] kills Polonius.  Pol. [behind] O, I am slain!  Queen. O me, what hast thou done?  Ham. Nay, I know not. Is it the King?  Queen. O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!  Ham. A bloody deed- almost as bad, good mother,    As kill a king, and marry with his brother.  Queen. As kill a king?  Ham. Ay, lady, it was my word.                         [Lifts up the arras and sees Polonius.]    Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!    I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune.    Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.    Leave wringing of your hinds. Peace! sit you down    And let me wring your heart; for so I shall    If it be made of penetrable stuff;    If damned custom have not braz'd it so    That it is proof and bulwark against sense.  Queen. What have I done that thou dar'st wag thy tongue    In noise so rude against me?  Ham. Such an act    That blurs the grace and blush of modesty;    Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rose    From the fair forehead of an innocent love,    And sets a blister there; makes marriage vows    As false as dicers' oaths. O, such a deed    As from the body of contraction plucks    The very soul, and sweet religion makes    A rhapsody of words! Heaven's face doth glow;    Yea, this solidity and compound mass,    With tristful visage, as against the doom,    Is thought-sick at the act.  Queen. Ay me, what act,    That roars so loud and thunders in the index?  Ham. Look here upon th's picture, and on this,    The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.    See what a grace was seated on this brow;    Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;    An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;    A station like the herald Mercury    New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill:    A combination and a form indeed    Where every god did seem to set his seal    To give the world assurance of a man.    This was your husband. Look you now what follows.    Here is your husband, like a mildew'd ear    Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?    Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,    And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes    You cannot call it love; for at your age    The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble,    And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment    Would step from this to this? Sense sure you have,    Else could you not have motion; but sure that sense    Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,    Nor sense to ecstacy was ne'er so thrall'd    But it reserv'd some quantity of choice    To serve in such a difference. What devil was't    That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?    Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,    Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,    Or but a sickly part of one true sense    Could not so mope.    O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,    If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,    To flaming youth let virtue be as wax    And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame    When the compulsive ardour gives the charge,    Since frost itself as actively doth burn,    And reason panders will.  Queen. O Hamlet, speak no more!    Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul,    And there I see such black and grained spots    As will not leave their tinct.  Ham. Nay, but to live    In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,    Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love    Over the nasty sty!  Queen. O, speak to me no more!    These words like daggers enter in mine ears.    No more, sweet Hamlet!  Ham. A murtherer and a villain!    A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe    Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;    A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,    That from a shelf the precious diadem stole    And put it in his pocket!  Queen. No more!

Enter the Ghost in his nightgown.

  Ham. A king of shreds and patches! -    Save me and hover o'er me with your wings,    You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?  Queen. Alas, he's mad!  Ham. Do you not come your tardy son to chide,    That, laps'd in time and passion, lets go by    Th' important acting of your dread command?    O, say!  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    Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.    Speak to her, Hamlet.  Ham. How is it with you, lady?  Queen. Alas, how is't with you,    That you do bend your eye on vacancy,    And with th' encorporal air do hold discourse?    Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;    And, as the sleeping soldiers in th' alarm,    Your bedded hairs, like life in excrements,    Start up and stand an end. O gentle son,    Upon the beat and flame of thy distemper    Sprinkle cool patience! Whereon do you look?  Ham. On him, on him! Look you how pale he glares!    His form and cause conjoin'd, 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?  Ham. Do you see nothing there?  Queen. Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.  Ham. Nor did you nothing hear?  Queen. No, nothing but ourselves.  Ham. Why, look you there! Look how it steals away!    My father, in his habit as he liv'd!    Look where he goes even now out at the portal!Exit Ghost  Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain.    This bodiless creation ecstasy    Is very cunning in.  Ham. Ecstasy?    My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time    And makes as healthful music. It is not madness    That I have utt'red. Bring me to the test,    And I the matter will reword; which madness    Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,    Lay not that flattering unction to your soul    That not your trespass but my madness speaks.    It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,    Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,    Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;    Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;    And do not spread the compost on the weeds    To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;    For in the fatness of these pursy times    Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg-    Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.  Queen. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.  Ham. 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.    That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat    Of habits evil, is angel yet in this,    That to the use of actions fair and good    He likewise gives a frock or livery,    That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night,    And that shall lend a kind of easiness    To the next abstinence; the next more easy;    For use almost can change the stamp of nature,    And either [master] the devil, or throw him out    With wondrous potency. Once more, good night;    And when you are desirous to be blest,    I'll blessing beg of you. – For this same lord,    I do repent; but heaven hath pleas'd it so,    To punish me with this, and this with me,    That I must be their scourge and minister.    I will bestow him, and will answer well    The death I gave him. So again, good night.    I must be cruel, only to be kind;    Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.    One word more, good lady.  Queen. What shall I do?  Ham. Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:    Let the bloat King tempt you again to bed;    Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;    And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,    Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,    Make you to ravel all this matter out,    That I essentially am not in madness,    But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;    For who that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,    Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib    Such dear concernings hide? Who would do so?    No, in despite of sense and secrecy,    Unpeg the basket on the house's top,    Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape,    To try conclusions, in the basket creep    And break your own neck down.  Queen. Be thou assur'd, if words be made of breath,    And breath of life, I have no life to breathe    What thou hast said to me.  Ham. I must to England; you know that?  Queen. Alack,    I had forgot! 'Tis so concluded on.  Ham. There's letters seal'd; and my two schoolfellows,    Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd,    They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way    And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;    For 'tis the sport to have the enginer    Hoist with his own petar; and 't shall go hard    But I will delve one yard below their mines    And blow them at the moon. O, 'tis most sweet    When in one line two crafts directly meet.    This man shall set me packing.    I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room. -    Mother, good night. – Indeed, this counsellor    Is now most still, most secret, and most grave,    Who was in life a foolish peating knave.    Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.    Good night, mother.[Exit the Queen. Then] Exit Hamlet, tugging in Polonius

ACT IV. Scene I. Elsinore. A room in the Castle

Enter King and Queen, with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

  King. There's matter in these sighs. These profound heaves    You must translate; 'tis fit we understand them.    Where is your son?  Queen. Bestow this place on us a little while.[Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]    Ah, mine own lord, what have I seen to-night!  King. What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?  Queen. Mad as the sea and wind when both contend    Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit    Behind the arras hearing something stir,    Whips out his rapier, cries 'A rat, a rat!'    And in this brainish apprehension kills    The unseen good old man.  King. O heavy deed!    It had been so with us, had we been there.    His liberty is full of threats to all-    To you yourself, to us, to every one.    Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd?    It will be laid to us, whose providence    Should have kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt    This mad young man. But so much was our love    We would not understand what was most fit,    But, like the owner of a foul disease,    To keep it from divulging, let it feed    Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone?  Queen. To draw apart the body he hath kill'd;    O'er whom his very madness, like some ore    Among a mineral of metals base,    Shows itself pure. He weeps for what is done.  King. O Gertrude, come away!    The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch    But we will ship him hence; and this vile deed    We must with all our majesty and skill    Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern!

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

    Friends both, go join you with some further aid.    Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,    And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him.    Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body    Into the chapel. I pray you haste in this.Exeunt [Rosencrantz and Guildenstern]    Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends    And let them know both what we mean to do    And what's untimely done. [So haply slander-]    Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,    As level as the cannon to his blank,    Transports his poisoned shot- may miss our name    And hit the woundless air. – O, come away!    My soul is full of discord and dismay.Exeunt

Scene II. Elsinore. A passage in the Castle

Enter Hamlet.

  Ham. Safely stow'd.  Gentlemen. (within) Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!  Ham. But soft! What noise? Who calls on Hamlet? O, here theycome.

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

  Ros. What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?  Ham. Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.  Ros. Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence    And bear it to the chapel.  Ham. Do not believe it.  Ros. Believe what?  Ham. That I can keep your counsel, and not mine own. Besides,to be    demanded of a sponge, what replication should be made by theson    of a king?  Ros. Take you me for a sponge, my lord?  Ham. Ay, sir; that soaks up the King's countenance, hisrewards,    his authorities. But such officers do the King best servicein    the end. He keeps them, like an ape, in the corner of hisjaw;    first mouth'd, to be last Swallowed. When he needs what youhave    glean'd, it is but squeezing you and, sponge, you shall bedry    again.  Ros. I understand you not, my lord.  Ham. I am glad of it. A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.  Ros. My lord, you must tell us where the body is and go with usto    the King.  Ham. The body is with the King, but the King is not with thebody.    The King is a thing-  Guil. A thing, my lord?  Ham. Of nothing. Bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after.Exeunt

Scene III. Elsinore. A room in the Castle

Enter King.

  King. I have sent to seek him and to find the body.    How dangerous is it that this man goes loose!    Yet must not we put the strong law on him.    He's lov'd of the distracted multitude,    Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;    And where 'tis so, th' offender's scourge is weigh'd,    But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even,    This sudden sending him away must seem    Deliberate pause. Diseases desperate grown    By desperate appliance are reliev'd,    Or not at all.

Enter Rosencrantz.

    How now O What hath befall'n?  Ros. Where the dead body is bestow'd, 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 and Guildenstern [with Attendants].

  King. Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?  Ham. At supper.  King. At supper? Where?  Ham. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten. A certain    convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm isyour    only emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else to fat us,and    we fat ourselves for maggots. Your fat king and your leanbeggar    is but variable service- two dishes, but to one table. That'sthe    end.  King. Alas, alas!  Ham. A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, andeat    of the fish that hath fed of that worm.  King. What dost thou mean by this?  Ham. Nothing but to show you how a king may go a progressthrough    the guts of a beggar.  King. Where is Polonius?  Ham. In heaven. Send thither to see. If your messenger find himnot    there, seek him i' th' other place yourself. But indeed, ifyou    find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you goup    the stair, into the lobby.  King. Go seek him there. [To Attendants.]  Ham. He will stay till you come.[Exeunt Attendants.]  King. 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 bark is ready and the wind at help,    Th' associates tend, and everything is bent    For England.  Ham. For England?  King. Ay, Hamlet.  Ham. Good.  King. So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.  Ham. I see a cherub that sees them. But come, for England!    Farewell, dear mother.  King. Thy loving father, Hamlet.  Ham. My mother! Father and mother is man and wife; man and wifeis    one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England!

Exit.

  King. Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard.    Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night.    Away! for everything is seal'd and done    That else leans on th' affair. Pray you make haste.Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern]    And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught, -    As my great power thereof may give thee sense,    Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red    After the Danish sword, and thy free awe    Pays homage to us, – thou mayst not coldly set    Our sovereign process, which imports at full,    By letters congruing to that effect,    The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;    For like the hectic in my blood he rages,    And thou must cure me. Till I know 'tis done,    Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. Exit.

Scene IV. Near Elsinore

Enter Fortinbras with his Army over the stage.

  For. Go, Captain, from me greet the Danish king.    Tell him that by his license Fortinbras    Craves the conveyance of a promis'd march    Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous.    if that his Majesty would aught with us,    We shall express our duty in his eye;    And let him know so.  Capt. I will do't, my lord.  For. Go softly on.Exeunt [all but the Captain]

Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, [Guildenstern,] and others.

  Ham. Good sir, whose powers are these?  Capt. They are of Norway, sir.  Ham. How purpos'd, sir, I pray you?  Capt. Against some part of Poland.  Ham. Who commands them, sir?  Capt. The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras.  Ham. Goes it against the main of Poland, sir,    Or for some frontier?  Capt. Truly to speak, and with no addition,    We go to gain a little patch of ground    That hath in it no profit but the name.    To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;    Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole    A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.  Ham. Why, then the Polack never will defend it.  Capt. Yes, it is already garrison'd.  Ham. Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats    Will not debate the question of this straw.    This is th' imposthume of much wealth and peace,    That inward breaks, and shows no cause without    Why the man dies. – I humbly thank you, sir.  Capt. God b' wi' you, sir. [Exit.]  Ros. Will't please you go, my lord?  Ham. I'll be with you straight. Go a little before.[Exeunt all but Hamlet.]    How all occasions do inform against me    And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,    If his chief good and market of his time    Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more.    Sure he that made us with such large discourse,    Looking before and after, gave us not    That capability and godlike reason    To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be    Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple    Of thinking too precisely on th' event, -    A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom    And ever three parts coward, – I do not know    Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do,'    Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and means    To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me.    Witness this army of such mass and charge,    Led by a delicate and tender prince,    Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd,    Makes mouths at the invisible event,    Exposing what is mortal and unsure    To all that fortune, death, and danger dare,    Even for an eggshell. Rightly to be great    Is not to stir without great argument,    But greatly to find quarrel in a straw    When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,    That have a father klll'd, a mother stain'd,    Excitements of my reason and my blood,    And let all sleep, while to my shame I see    The imminent death of twenty thousand men    That for a fantasy and trick of fame    Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot    Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,    Which is not tomb enough and continent    To hide the slain? O, from this time forth,    My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! Exit.

Scene V. Elsinore. A room in the Castle

Enter Horatio, Queen, and a Gentleman.

  Queen. I will not speak with her.  Gent. She is importunate, indeed distract.    Her mood will needs be pitied.  Queen. What would she have?  Gent. She speaks much of her father; says she hears    There's tricks i' th' world, and hems, and beats her heart;    Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,    That carry but half sense. Her speech is nothing,    Yet the unshaped use of it doth move    The hearers to collection; they aim at it,    And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;    Which, as her winks and nods and gestures yield them,    Indeed would make one think there might be thought,    Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.  Hor. 'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew    Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.  Queen. Let her come in.[Exit Gentleman.]    [Aside] To my sick soul (as sin's true nature is)    Each toy seems Prologue to some great amiss.    So full of artless jealousy is guilt    It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

Enter Ophelia distracted.

  Oph. Where is the beauteous Majesty of Denmark?  Queen. How now, Ophelia?  Oph. (sings)         How should I your true-love know           From another one?         By his cockle bat and' staff           And his sandal 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.    O, ho!  Queen. Nay, but Ophelia-  Oph. Pray you mark.(Sings) White his shroud as the mountain snow-

Enter King.

  Queen. Alas, look here, my lord!  Oph. (Sings)           Larded all with sweet flowers;         Which bewept to the grave did not go           With true-love showers.  King. How do you, pretty lady?  Oph. Well, God dild you! They say the owl was a baker'sdaughter.    Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. Godbe at    your table!  King. Conceit upon her father.  Oph. Pray let's have no words of this; but when they ask, youwhat    it means, say you this:    (Sings) To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,              All in the morning bedtime,            And I a maid at your window,              To be your Valentine.            Then up he rose and donn'd his clo'es              And dupp'd the chamber door,            Let in the maid, that out a maid              Never departed more.  King. Pretty Ophelia!  Oph. Indeed, la, without an oath, I'll make an end on't!    [Sings] By Gis and by Saint Charity,              Alack, and fie for shame!            Young men will do't if they come to't              By Cock, they are to blame.            Quoth she, 'Before you tumbled me,              You promis'd me to wed.'He answers:            'So would I 'a' done, by yonder sun,              An thou hadst not come to my bed.'  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 would lay him i' th' coldground.    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  King. Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you.[Exit Horatio.]    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! First, her father slain;    Next, Your son gone, and he most violent author    Of his own just remove; the people muddied,    Thick and and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers    For good Polonius' death, and we have done but greenly    In hugger-mugger to inter him; Poor Ophelia    Divided from herself and her fair-judgment,    Without the which we are Pictures or mere beasts;    Last, and as such containing as all these,    Her brother is in secret come from France;    And wants not buzzers to infect his ear    Feeds on his wonder, keep, himself in clouds,    With pestilent speeches of his father's death,    Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,    Will nothing stick Our person to arraign    In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,    Like to a murd'ring piece, in many places    Give, me superfluous death. A noise within.  Queen. Alack, what noise is this?  King. Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.

Enter a Messenger.

    What is the matter?  Mess. Save Yourself, my lord:    The ocean, overpeering of his list,    Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste    Than Young Laertes, in a riotous head,    O'erbears Your offices. The rabble call him lord;    And, as the world were now but to begin,    Antiquity forgot, custom not known,    The ratifiers and props of every word,    They cry 'Choose we! Laertes shall be king!'    Caps, hands, and tongues applaud it to the clouds,    'Laertes shall be king! Laertes king!'                                                 A noise within.  Queen. How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!    O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!  King. The doors are broke.

Enter Laertes with others.