SCENE II.
A room of state.
Enter the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, Voltimand, Cornelius, Lords and Attendants.
King.
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
The memory be green; and that it us befitted
To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
-- 182 --
To be contracted in one brow of woe;
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature,
That we with wisest sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
The imperial jointress of this warlike state,
Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,—
With one auspicious, and one dropping eye 6 note
;
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole,—
Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along:—For all, our thanks.
Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,—
Holding a weak supposal of our worth;
Or thinking, by our late dear brother's death,
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,—
7 note
Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bands of law,
To our most valiant brother.—So much for him.
-- 183 --
Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting:
Thus much the business is: We have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,—
Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew's purpose,—to suppress
His further gait herein8 note
; in that the levies,
The lists, and full proportions, are all made
Out of his subject:—and we here dispatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
Giving to you no further personal power
To business with the king, more than the scope9 note
Of these dilated articles allows1 note.
Farewel; and let your haste commend your duty.
Vol.
In that, and all things, will we shew our duty.
King.
We doubt it nothing; heartily farewel.
[Exeunt Voltimand, and Cornelius.
And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?
You told us of some suit; What is't, Laertes?
You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,
And lose your voice: What would'st thou beg, Laertes,
That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
2 note
The head is not more native to the heart,
-- 184 --
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
What would'st thou have, Laertes?
Laer.
My dread lord,
Your leave and favour to return to France;
From whence though willingly I came to Denmark,
To shew my duty in your coronation;
Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France,
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
King.
Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?
Pol.
He hath, my lord, [wrung from me my slow leave,
-- 185 --
By laboursome petition; and, at last,
Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:]
I do beseech you, give him leave to go.
King.
3 note
Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
And thy best graces spend it at thy will.—
But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,—
Ham.
4 note
A little more than kin, and less than kind.
[Aside.
-- 186 --
King.
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
Ham.
Not so, my lord, I am 5 note
too much i' the sun.
Queen.
Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
Do not, for ever, with thy 6 notevailed lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
-- 187 --
Thou know'st, 'tis common; all, that live, must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.
Ham.
Ay, madam, it is common.
Queen.
If it be,
Why seems it so particular with thee?
Ham.
Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems.
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, modes, shews of grief7 note,
That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem,
For they are actions that a man might play:
But I have that within, which passeth shew;
These, but the trappings and the suits of woe.
King,
'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
To give these mourning duties to your father:
But, you must know, 8 note
your father lost a father;
-- 188 --
That father lost, lost his; and the survivor bound
In filial obligation, for some term
To do 9 note
obsequious sorrow: But to perséver
1 noteIn obstinate condolement, is a course
Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief:
It shews 2 notea will most incorrect to heaven;
A heart unfortify'd, or mind impatient;
An understanding simple and unschool'd:
For what, we know, must be, and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we, in our peevish opposition,
Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
3 note
To reason most absurd, whose common theme
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cry'd,
From the first corse, 'till he that died to-day,
This must be so. We pray you, throw to earth
This unprevailing woe; and think of us
As of a father: for, let the world take note,
You are the most immediate to our throne;
4 note
And, with no less nobility of love
-- 189 --
Than that which dearest father bears his son,
5 note
Do I impart toward you. For your intent
In going back to school in Wittenberg,
It is most retrograde to our desire:
And, we beseech you, 6 notebend you to remain
Here, in the chear and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
Queen.
Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet;
I pray thee, stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.
Ham.
I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
King.
Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply;
Be as ourself in Denmark.—Madam, come;
This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet
Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,
7 noteNo jocund health, that Denmark drinks to-day,
But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell;
And the king's rouze the heaven shall bruit again,
Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come, away.
[Exeunt.
Manet Hamlet.
Ham.
O, that this too too solid flesh would melt,
-- 190 --
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew8 note
!
9 note
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in nature,
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead!—nay, not so much, not two:
1 note
So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother,
2 note
That he might not let e'en the winds of heaven
-- 191 --
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on: And yet, within a month,—
Let me not think on't;—Frailty, thy name is woman!—
A little month; or ere those shoes were old,
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears:9Q1161—why she, even she,—
O heaven! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer,—marry'd with my uncle,
My father's brother; but no more like my father,
Than I to Hercules: Within a month;
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her gauled eyes,
She marry'd.—O most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to, good:
But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue!
-- 192 --
Enter Horatio, Bernardo, and Marcellus.
Hor.
Hail to your lordship!
Ham.
I am glad to see you well:
Horatio,—or I do forget myself?
Hor.
The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
Ham.
Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you3 note.
And 4 notewhat make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?—
Marcellus?
Mar.
My good lord,—
Ham.
I am very glad to see you; 5 notegood even, sir.—
But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
Hor.
A truant disposition, good my lord.
Ham.
I would not hear your enemy say so;
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself: I know, you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinour?
We'll teach you to drink deep, ere you depart.
Hor.
My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.
Ham.
I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student;
I think, it was to see my mother's wedding.
Hor.
Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.
-- 193 --
Ham.
Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd meats6 note
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
'Would I had met my 7 note
dearest foe in heaven,
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!—
My father,—Methinks, I see my father.
Hor.
O where, my lord?
Ham.
In my mind's eye8 note
, Horatio.
-- 194 --
Hor.
I saw him once, he was a goodly king.
Ham.
He was a man, take him for all in all,
9 note
I shall not look upon his like again.
Hor.
My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham.
Saw! who?
Hor.
My lord, the king your father.
Ham.
The king my father!
Hor.
1 noteSeason your admiration for a while
With an attent ear; 'till I may deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.
Ham.
For heaven's love, let me hear.
Hor.
Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
Arm'd at all points2 note, exactly, cap-à-pé,
Appears before them, and, with solemn march,
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd,
By their opprest and fear-surprized eyes,
Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'd
Almost to jelly 3 note
with the act of fear,
-- 195 --
Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secresy impart they did;
And I with them, the third night, kept the watch:
Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,
Form 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, upon the platform where we watch'd.
Ham.
Did you not speak to it?
Hor.
My lord, I did;
But answer made it none: yet once, methought,
It lifted up its head, and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak:
But, even then, the morning cock crew loud;
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanish'd from our sight.
Ham.
'Tis very strange.
Hor.
As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty,
To let you know of it.
Ham.
Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch to-night?
All.
We do, my lord.
Ham.
Arm'd, say you?
All.
Arm'd, my lord.
Ham.
From top to toe?
-- 196 --
All.
My lord, from head to foot.
Ham.
Then saw you not his face.
Hor.
O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.
Ham.
What, look'd he frowningly?
Hor.
A countenance more
In sorrow than in anger.
Ham.
Pale, or red?
Hor.
Nay, very pale.
Ham.
And fix'd his eyes upon you?
Hor.
Most constantly.
Ham.
I would, I had been there.
Hor.
It would have much amaz'd you.
Ham.
Very like,
Very like: Stay'd it long?
Hor.
While one with moderate haste
Might tell a hundred.
Both.
Longer, longer.
Hor.
Not when I saw it.
Ham.
His beard was grizzl'd? no?
Hor.
It was, as I have seen it in his life,
A sable silver'd.
Ham.
I will watch to-night;
Perchance, 'twill walk again.
Hor.
I warrant, it will.
Ham.
If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
4 note
Let it be tenable in your silence still;
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue;
I will requite your loves: So, fare you well:
-- 197 --
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.
All.
Our duty to your honour.
Ham.
Your loves, as mine to you: Farewel.
[Exeunt.
My father's spirit in arms! all is not well;
I doubt some foul play: 'would, the night were come!
'Till then sit still, my soul: Foul deeds will rise,
(Though all the earth o'erwhelm them) to men's eyes.
[Exit.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
