Guild.
King.
Sweet Gertrard leave us two,
For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,
That he as 'twere by accident may meet
Ophelia here; her father and my self,
Will so bestow our selves, that seeing and unseen
-- 38 --
We may of their encounter judge,
“And gather by him as he is behav'd.
If t be the affliction of his love or no
“That thus he suffers for.
Queen.
I shall obey you:
And for my part Ophelia I do wish
That your good beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlet's wildness, so shall I hope your vertues
Will bring him to his wonted way again,
To both your honours.
Ophel.
Madam, I wish it may.
Pol.
Ophelia walk you here whilst we
(If so your Majesty shall please) retire conceal'd; “read on this Book,
“That shew of such an exercise may colour
“Your loneliness: we are oft to blame in this,
“'Tis too much prov'd, that with devotions visage,
“And pious action we do sugar o're
“The Devil himself.
“King.
O 'tis too true:
“How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!
“The harlots check beautied with plastring art,
“Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it,
“Than is my deed to my most painted word:
“O heavy burden!
[Enter Hamlet.
Pol.
I hear him coming, withdraw my Lord.
Ham.
To be or not to be, that is the question,
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outragious fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to die to sleep
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ake, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to; 'tis a consummation,
Devoutly to be wisht, to dye to sleep,
To sleep perchance to dream, I there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil
Must give us pause, there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressors wrong, the proud mans contumely,
The pangs of despised love, and the laws delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
-- 39 --
When as himself might his Quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life?
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd Country, from whose born
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than flie to others that we know not of.
Thus conscience does make cowards,
And thus the healthful face of resolution
Shews sick and pale with thought:
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia, Nymph in thy Orizons
Be all my sins remembred?
Ophel.
Good my Lord,
How does your honour for this many a day?
Ham.
I humbly thank you, well.
Ophel.
My Lord I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longed to re-deliver,
I pray you now receive them.
Ham.
No, not I, I never gave you ought.
Ophel.
My honoured Lord, you know right well you did,
And with them words of so sweet breath composed
As made these things more rich: their perfume lost,
Take these again, for to the noble mind
Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind.
There my Lord.
Ham.
Ha, ha, are you honest?
Ophel.
My Lord.
Ham.
Are you fair?
Ophel.
What means your Lordship?
Ham,
That if you be honest and fair, you should admit no discourse
to your beauty.
Ophel
Could beauty my lord have better commerce
Than with honesty.
Ham.
I truly, for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty
from what it is to a bawd, than the force of honesty can translate
beauty to his likeness: this was sometime a Paradox, but now
the time gives it proof. I did love you once,
Ophel.
Indeed my Lord you made me believe so.
Ham
You should not have believed me, for vertue cannot so
evacuate our old stock but we shall rellish of it: I loved you not.
-- 40 --
Ophel.
I was the more deceived.
Ham
Get thee to a Nunnery, why wouldest thou be a breeder
of sinners? I am my self indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse
me of such things, that it were better my mother had not born me:
I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my
beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them
shape, or time to act them in: what should such fellows as I do
crawling between earth and heaven? we are arrant knaves, believe
none of us, go thy ways to a Nunnery? Where's your father?
Ophel.
At home my Lord.
Ham.
Let the doors be shut upon him,
That he may play the fool no where but in's own house:
Farewel.
Ophel.
O help him you sweet heavens.
Ham.
If thou doest marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry,
be thou as chaste as Ice, as pure as Snow, thou shalt not escape
calumny, get thee to a Nunnery, farewel. Or if thou wilt needs marry,
marry a fool, for wisemen know well enough what monsters you
make of them: to a Nunnery go, and quickly too, farewel.
Ophel.
Heavenly powers restore him.
Ham.
I have heard of your paintings well enough: nature hath
given you one face, and you make your selves another, you jig and
amble, and you lisp, you nick-name heavens creatures, and make
your wantonness your ignorance; go to, I'll no more on't, it hath
made me mad: I say we will have no more marriages, those that
are married already all but one shall live, the rest shall keep as they
are: to a Nunnery go.
[Exit.
Ophel.
O what a noble mind is here o'rethrown!
The Courtiers, Souldiers, Scholars, eye, tongue, sword,
Th' expectation and Rose of the fair state,
The glass of fashion, and the mould of form,
Th' observ'd of all observers, quite, quite down,
And I of Ladies most deject and wretched,
‘ That suckt the honey of his Musick vows;
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason
Like sweet bells jangled out of tune and harsh,
That unmatcht form and stature of blown youth
Blasted with extasie. O woe is me
T' have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
[Exit.
Enter King and Polonius.
King.
Love! his affections do not that way tend,
For what he spake, though it lack form a little,
Was not like madness, there's something in his soul
O're which his melancholly fits on brood,
-- 41 --
And I doubt the hatch and the disclose
Will be some danger, which to prevent
I have in quick determination
Thus set 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 setled 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 I do believe the origen and commencement of it
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 shew 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 unwatcht go.
[Exeunt.
Enter Hamlet and three of the Players.
“Ham.
Speak the speech I pray you as I pronounc'd it to you
smoothly from the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our
Players do, I had as lieve 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 very rags, to split the
ears of the ground-lings, who for the most part are capable of
nothing but inexplicable dumb shews and noise: I would have
such a fellow whipt for ore-doing Termagant, it out-Herods Herod,
pray you avoid it.
“Pla.
I warrant your honour.
“Ham.
Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be
your tutor; sute the action to the word, the word to the action,
with this special observance, that you o're-step not the modesty of
Nature: for any thing so o're-done is from the purpose of Playing,
whose end both at first, and now, was, and is, to hold as 'twere
-- 42 --
the mirror up to nature, to shew vertue her feature, scorn her own
image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure:
now this over-done, or come tardy of, though it makes the
unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure
of which one must in your allowance o're-weigh 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 gate of Christian, Pagan,
nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought
some of Natures journey-men had made men, and not made them
well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
“Play.
I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us.
“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 shews a most pitiful ambition in the Fool that uses it: go,
make you ready.” How now my Lord? will the King hear this
piece of work?
Enter Polonius, Guildenstern, and Rosencraus.
Pol.
And the Queen too, and that presently.
Ham.
Bid the Players make haste. Will you two help to hasten them.
Ros.
I my Lord.
[Exeunt those two.
Ham.
What ho, Horatio?
[Enter Horatio.
Hora.
Here my Lord, at your service.
Ham,
Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man
As e're my conversation met withal.
Hora.
O my dear Lord.
Ham.
Nay, do not think I flatter,
For what advancement may I hope from thee
That hast no revenue but thy good spirits
To feed and cloath thee? why should the poor be flattered?
“No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,
“And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee
“Where thrift may follow fawning, doest thou hear?
Since my dear soul was Mistress of her choice,
And could of men distinguish her election,
Sh'ath seal'd thee for her self: for thou hast been
As one in suffering all that suffers nothing;
“A man that fortunes buffets and rewards
“Hast ta'n with equal thanks: and blest are those
“Whose blood and judgment are so well commedled
“That they are not a pipe for fortunes finger,
-- 43 --
“To sound what stop she please:” give me that man
That is not passions slave, and I will wear him
In my hearts core, I, in my heart of hearts
As I do thee. Something too much of this:
There is a Play to night before the King,
One Scene of it comes near the circumstance
Which I have told thee of my fathers death;
I prethee when thou seest that Act on foot
Even with the very comment of thy soul
Observe my Uncle: if then his hidden guilt
Do not it self discover 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 joyn
In censure of his seeming.
Hora.
Well my Lord,
If he steal ought the whilst this Play is playing
And scape detection, I will pay the theft.
Enter Trumpets and Kettle Drums, King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia.
Ham.
They are coming to the Play, I must be idle.
Get you a place.
King.
How fares our Cousin Hamlet.
Ham.
Excellent ifaith,
Of the Cameleons dish I eat the air,
Promise-cram'd, you cannot feed Capons so.
King.
I have nothing with this answer Hamlet,
These words are not mine.
Ham.
No, nor mine now my Lord.
You play'd once in the 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 Cæsar, I was kill'd i'th Capitol,
Brutus kill'd me.
Ham.
It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there.
Be the Players ready?
Ros.
I my Lord, they wait upon your patience.
Gert.
Come hither my dear Hamlet, sit by me.
Ham.
No good mother, here's metel more attractive.
Pol.
O ho, do you mark that?
Ham.
Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
Ophel.
No my Lord.
Ham.
Do you think I mean Country matters?
-- 44 --
“Ophel.
I think nothing my Lord.
“Ham.
That's a fair thought to lie between maids legs.
“Ophel.
What is my Lord?
“Ham.
Nothing.
Ophel.
You are merry my Lord.
Ham.
Who I?
Ophel.
I my Lord.
Ham.
Your only Jig-maker, what should a man do but be merry:
for look you how chearfully my mother looks, and my father
died within's two hours.
Ophel.
Nay, 'tis twice two months my Lord.
Ham.
So long! nay then let the Devil wear black, for I'le have
a sute of sables: O heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten
yet! then there's hope a great mans memory may out-live his
life half a year; but he must build Churches then, “or else shall he
suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse, whose Epitaph is,
for O, for O, the Hobby-horse is forgot.
The Trumpets sound. Dumb shew follows.
Enter a King and a Queen, the Queen embracing him, and he her, he
takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck, he lies him down
upon a bank of flowers she seeing him asleep, leaves him: anon comes
in another man, takes off his Crown, kisses it, pours poison in the sleepers
ears, and leaves him; the Queen returns, finds the King dead,
makes passionate action; the poisoner with some three or four comes in
again, seem to condole with her, the dead body is carried away, the
poisoner woes the Queen with gifts, she seems harsh a while, but in
the end accepts love.
Ophel.
What means this my Lord?
Ham.
It is munching Mallico, it means mischief.
Ophel.
Belike this shew imports the argument of the Play.
“Ham.
We shall know by this fellow.
[Enter Prologue.
The Players cannot keep, they'l shew all straight.
Ophel.
Will he shew us what this shew meant?
Ham.
I, or any shew that you will shew him, be not you asham'd
to shew, he'l not shame to tell you what it means.
Ophel.
You are naught, you are naught, I'l mark the Play.
Prologue.
For us and for our Tragedy,
Here stooping to your clemency,
We beg your hearing patiently.
Ham.
Is this a Prologue, or the poesie of a Ring?
Ophel.
'Tis brief my Lord.
Ham.
As womans love.
Enter King and Queen.
King.
Full thirty times hath Phœbus Cart gone round
-- 45 --
“Neptunes salt wash, and Tellus orb'd the ground,
“And thirty dozen Moons with borrowed sheen
“About the world have twelve times thirty been,
Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands
Unite infolding them in sacred bands'
Queen.
So many journies may the Sun and Moon
Make us again count o're e're love be done:
But woe is me, you are so sick of late,
So far different from your former state;
That I distrust you; yet though I distrust,
Discomfort you my Lord it nothing must.
For women fear too much, even as they love,
“And womens fear and love hold quantity,
“Either none, in neither ought, or in extremity.
Now what my love has been proof makes you know,
And as my love is great my fear is so:
Where love is great, the smallest doubts are fear;
Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
King.
I must leave thee Love, and shortly too,
My working 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.
In second husband let me be accurst,
None wed the second but who kill'd the first:
Ham.
That's 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 and poor validity;
Which now like fruits unripe sticks on the tree,
But fall unshaken when they mellow be.
Most necessary 'tis that we forget
To pay our selves what to our selves is debt:
What to our selves 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:
-- 46 --
“Grief joy, joy griefs on slender accident.
This world is not for aye, not is it 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.
Think still thou wilt no second husband wed
But thy thoughts dye 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,
“And Anchors 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,
Ham.
If he should break it now.
Queen.
If once I widow be, and then a wife.
King.
'Tis deeply sworn: sweet leave me here a while,
My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile
The tedious day with sleep.
Queen.
Sleep rock thy brain,
And never come mischance between us twain.
[Exeunt.
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.
King.
What do you call the Play?
Ham.
The Mouse-trap; marry how? tropically. This Play is
the image of a murther done in Vienna, Gonzago is the Dukes name,
his wife Baptista, you shall see anon, 'tis a knavish piece of work,
but what of that? your Majesty and we shall have free souls, it
touches not us; let the galled jade winch, our withers are unwrung.
This is one Lucianus, Nephew to the King.
[Enter Lucianus.
Ophel.
You are as good as a Chorus my Lord.
Ham.
I could interpret between you and your love
-- 47 --
If I could see the puppits dallying.
“Ophel.
You are keen my Lord, you are keen.
Ham.
It would cost you a groaning to take off mine edge.
Ophel.
Still worse and worse.
“Ham.
So you mistake your husbands.” Begin murtherer,
leave thy damnable faces and begin, come, the croaking Raven
doth bellow for revenge.
Luc.
Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing,
Considerate season, and no creature seeing,
Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,
With Hecats bane, thrice blasted, thrice infected,
Thy natural magick, and dire property,
On wholsome life usurps immediately.
Ham.
He poisons him i'th Garden for his estate, his name's Gonzago,
the story is extant, and written in very choice Italian: you
shall see anon how the murtherer gets the love of Gonzago's Wife.
Ophel.
The King rises.
Queen.
How fares my Lord?
Pol.
Give o're the Play.
King.
Give me some light, away.
Pol.
Lights, lights, lights.
[Exeunt all but Hamlet and Hora.
Ham.
Why let the strucken Deer go weep,
The Hart ungalled go play,
For some must watch whilst some must sleep,
Thus runs the world away. “Would not this sir, and a forrest of
feathers, if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me, with provincial
Roses on my raz'd shooes, get me a fellowship in a City of
Players?
‘Hora.
Half a share.
“Ham.
A whole one I
“For thou doest know O Damon dear
“This Realm dismantled was
“Of Jove himself, and now reigns here
“A very very Paicock.
Hora.
You might have rim'd.
Ham.
O good Horatio, I'll take the Ghosts word for a thousand
pound. Didst perceive?
Hora.
Very well my Lord.
Ham.
Upon the talk of the poisoning.
Hora.
I did very well note him.
Ham.
Ah ha, come some musick, come the Recorders,
“For if the King likes not the Comedy,
“Why then belike he likes it not perdie.
“Come, some-musick.
-- 48 --
Enter Rosencraus and Guildenstern.
Guil.
Good my Lord vouchsafe me a word with you.
Ham.
Sir a whole History.
Guil.
The King Sir.
Ham.
I Sir, what of him?
Guil.
Is in his retirement marvellous distempered.
Ham.
With drink Sir?
Guil.
No my Lord, with choler.
Ham.
Your wisdom should shew it self richer to signifie this to
the Doctor; for for me to put him to his purgation, would perhaps
plunge him into more choler.
Guil.
Good my Lord put your discourse into some frame,
And start not so wildly from my business.
Ham.
I am tame Sir, pronounce.
Guil.
The Queen your mother in most great affliction of spirit
hath sent me to you.
Ham.
You are welcome.
Guild.
Nay good my Lord this courtesie is not of the right breed,
if it shall please you to make me a wholsome answer, I will do your
Mothers commandment, if not, your pardon and my return shall
be the end of the business.
Ham.
Sir I cannot.
Ros.
What my Lord?
Ham.
Make you a wholsome answer, my wit's diseas'd, but Sir,
such answer as I can make you shall command, or rather as you say,
my mother; therefore no more, but to the matter, my mother you
say.
Ros.
Then thus she says, your behaviour hath strook her into
amazement and admiration.
Ham.
O wonderful son that can thus astonish a mother! but is
there no sequel at the heels of this mothers admiration? impart.
Ros.
She desires to speak with you in her Closet e're you go to bed.
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 the cause of your distemper? you
do surely bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your
griefs to your friend.
Ham.
Sir I lack advancement.
Ros.
How can that be; when you have the voice of the King himself
for your succession in Denmark?
Enter the Players with Recorders,
Ham.
I Sir, but while the grass grows; the Proverb is something
-- 49 --
musty: oh the Recorders, let me see one, to withdraw with
you; why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you
would drive me into a toil?
Guil.
O my Lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.
Ham.
I do not well understand that, will you play upon this
pipe?
Guil.
My Lord I cannot.
Ham.
I pray you.
Guil.
Believe me I cannot.
Ham.
I beseech you.
Guil.
I know no touch of it my Lord.
Ham.
It is as easie as lying; govern these ventages with your
fingers and the thumb, give it breath with your mouth, and it will
discourse most eloquent musick: look you these are the stops.
Guil.
But these cannot I command to any utterance 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,
you would pluck out the heart of my mystery, you would sound
me from my lowest note to my compass, and there is much musick,
excellent voice in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak, do
you think I am easier to be plaid on than a pipe? Call me what instrument
you will, though you can fret me you cannot play upon
me.
[Enter Polonius.
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.
'Tis like a Camel indeed.
Ham.
Methinks it is like a Wezel.
Pol.
It is black like a Wezel.
Ham.
Or like a Whale.
Pol.
Very like a Whale.
Ham.
Then I will come to my mother by and by;
They fool me to the top of my bent. ‘I will come by and by;
“Leave me friends.
“I will say so. By and by is easily said.
'Tis now the very witching time of night,
When Church-yards yawn, and hell it self breaths out
Contagion to the world: now could I drink hot blood,
And do such business as day it self
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.
-- 50 --
I will speak daggers to her, but use none,
“My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites;
“How in my words soever she be shent,
“To give them seals never my soul consent.
[Exit.
Enter King, Rosencraus, 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
Hazzard so near us as doth hourly grow
Out of his brows.
Guil.
We will our selves provide;
Most holy and religious fear it is
To keep those 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 it self from noyance, but much more
“That spirit upon whose weal depends and rests
“The lives of many: the cess of Majesty
“Dies not alone, but like a gulf doth draw
“What's near it with it: or it is a massie wheel,
“Fixt on the somnet of the highest mount,
“To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things
“Are morteist and adjoyn'd, which when it falls,
“Each small annexment, petty consequence
“Attends the boistrous rain, never alone
“Did the King sigh, but a general grone.
King.
Arm you I pray you to this speedy voyage,
For we will setters put about this fear
Which now goes too free footed.
Ros.
We will make haste.
[Exeunt Gent.
Enter Polonius.
Pol.
Sir, he's going to his mothers closet,
Behind the Arras I'll convey my self
To hear the Process, I'll warrant she'l 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're-hear
Their speech; fare you well my Liege,
I'll call upon you e're you go to bed,
And tell you what I hear.
Exit.
King.
Thanks dear my Lord,
-- 51 --
O my offence is rank, it smells to heaven,
It hath the eldest curse upon't;
A brothers murder: pray I cannot,
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 it self with brothers 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 e're we come to fall,
Or pardon'd being down? then I'll look up:
My fault is past: but oh! what form of prayer
Can serve my turn? forgive me my foul murther?
That cannot be, since I am still possest
Of those effects for which I did the murther,
My Crown, mine own ambition, and my Queen:
May one be pardoned and retain th' offence?
“In the corrupted currents of this world
“Offences guided hand may shew by justice,
And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize it self
Buyes out the Law; but 'tis not so above,
There is no shuffling, there the action lies
In his true nature, and we our selves 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 ingaged! 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.
[Enter Hamlet.
Ham.
Where is this murderer, he kneels and prays.
And now I'll do't, and so he goes to heaven,
And so am I reveng'd? that would be scann'd;
He kill'd my father, and for that
I his sole son send him
To heaven:
Why this is a reward,—not revenge:
-- 52 --
He took my father grosly, 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 time,
When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage,
Or in th' incestuous pleasures of his bed,
At game, a swearing, or about some act
That has no rellish 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 Physick but prolongs thy sickly days.
[Exit.
King.
My words flie up, my thoughts remain below,
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
[Exit.
Enter Queen and Polonius.
Pol.
He will come strait, look you lay home to him,
Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,
And that your grace hath stood between
Much heat and him. I'll here conceal my self,
Pray you be round.
[Enter Hamlet.
Qu.
I'll warrant you, fear me not,
Withdraw, I hear him coming.
Ham.
Now mother, what's the matter?
Qu.
Hamlet thou hast thy father much offended.
Ham.
Mother you have my father much offended.
Qu.
Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue,
Ham.
Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
Qu.
Why how now Hamlet?
Ham.
What's the matter now?
Qu.
Have you forgot me?
Ham.
No by the Rood not so,
You are the Queen, your husbands brothers wife,
And would it were not so, you are my mother.
Qu.
Nay then I'll set those to you that can speak.
Ham.
Come, come, and sit down, you shall not budge,
You go not till I set you up a glass
Where you may see the utmost part of you.
Qu.
What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?
Help ho.
-- 53 --
Pol.
What hoe help.
Ham.
How now, a Rat, dead for a Ducket, dead.
Pol.
O I am slain.
Qu.
O me, what hast thou done?
Ham.
Nay I know not, is it the King?
Qu.
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.
Qu.
As kill a King.
Ham.
I Lady, it was my word.
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewel,
I took thee for thy better, take thy fortune,
Thou findest to be too busie is some danger.
Leave wringing of your hands, 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 be proof and bulwark against sense.
Qu,
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 vertue 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: oh such a deed
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul, and sweet Religion makes
A rapsody of words, “heavens face does glow
“Yea this solidity and compound mass
“With heated visage as against the doom,
“Is thought-sick at the act.
Ah me that act.
Qu.
Ay me, what act?
Ham.
That roars so loud, and thunders in the Index:
Look here upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers;
See what a grace was seated on this brow,
Hiperions 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 form indeed
Where every god did seem to set his seal,
-- 54 --
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 wholsome 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 of 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 apoplext, for madness would not err,
Nor sense to extasie 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 couzen'd you at hodman-blind?
“Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
“Ears without hands, or eyes, smelling fans all,
“Or but a sickly part of one true sense
“Could not so mope,” Oh shame! where is thy blush?
Rebellious hell,
If thou canst mutine in a Matrons bones
To flaming youth, let vertue be as wax
And melt in her own fire, proclaim no shame
When the compulsive ardure gives the charge,
Since frost it self as actively doth burn,
And reason pardons will.
Qu.
O Hamlet speak no more,
Thou turn'st my very eyes into my soul,
“And there I see such black and grieved spots
“As will leave there their tinct.
Ham.
Nay but to live
In the rank sweat of an incestuous bed,
Stew'd in corruption, “honeying and making love
“Over the nasty stye.
Qu.
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's not the twentieth part the tythe
Of your precedent Lord, a vice of Kings,
A cut-purse of the Empire and the rule,
That from a shelf the precious Diadem stole:
And put it in his pocket.
[Enter Ghost.
-- 55 --
Ham.
A King of shreds and patches.
Save me and hover o're me with your wings
You heavenly guards: what would your gracious fire?
Qu.
Alas he's mad.
Ham.
Do you not come your tardy son to chide.
That lap'st in time, and person lets go by
Th' important acting of your dead 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 sighing soul!
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.
Speak to her Hamlet.
Ham,
How is it with you Lady?
Qu.
Alass how is't with you,
That you do bend your eye on vacancy,
And with th' incorporeal air do hold discourse?
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep,
And as the sleeping Souldiers in th' alarm,
Your hair
Starts up and stands an end: O gentle son!
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper
Sprinkle cool patience: whereon do you look?
Ham.
On him, on him, look you how pale he gleres,
His form and cause conjoyn'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.
Qu.
To whom do you speak this?
Ham
Do you see nothing there?
Qu
Nothing at all, yet all that is here I see.
Ham.
Nor did you nothing hear?
Qu.
No nothing but our selves.
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.
Qu.
This is the very coinage of your brain,
This bodiless creation extasie is very cunning in.
Ham
My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time,
And makes as healthful musick: it is not madness
That I have uttered, bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word, which madness
Cannot do Mother, for love of grace
-- 56 --
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 your self 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 vertue,
“For in the fatness of these pursie times
“Vetrue it self of vice must pardon beg,
“Yea curb and wooe for leave to do him good.
Qu.
O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart.
Ham.
Then throw away the worser part of it,
And leave the purer with the other half.
Goodnight, but go not to my Uncles bed,
Assume a vertue if you have it not. Once more goodnight.
“That monster custom, who all sense doth eat,
“of habits devil, 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 easie;
“For use almost can change the stamp of nature,
“And master the Devil, or throw him out
“With wonderous 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
Qu.
What shall I do?
“Ham.
Not this by no means that I bid you do,
Let not the King tempt you to bed again,
“Pinch wanton on your cheek, call you his Mouse,
“And let him for a pair of reechy kisses,
“Or padling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,
Make you to ravel all this matter out,
That I essentially am not in madness,
-- 57 --
But mad in craft; “'twere good you let him know
“For who that's but Queen, fair, sober, wise,
“Would from a paddock, from a Bat, a Gib,
“Such dear concerning hide? who would do so?
“No, in despight of sense and secresie
“Unpeg the basket on the houses top,
“Let the birds flie, and like the famous Ape,
“To try conclusions in the basket creep,
“And break your own neck down.
Qu.
Be thou assur'd if words be made of breath,
And breath of life, I have no life to breath
What thou hast said to me.
Ham.
I must to England, you know that.
Qu.
Alack I had forgot,
'Tis so concluded on.
“Ham.
There's letters seal'd, and my two School-fellows,
“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 Engineer
“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 will set me packing,
I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room.
Mother good night indeed, this Counseller
Is now most still, most secret, and most grave,
Who was in's life a most foolish prating knave.
Come Sir, to draw toward an end with you.
Good night mother.
[Exit.
Thomas Betterton [1676], The tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmark. As it is now Acted at his Highness the Duke of York's Theatre. By William Shakespeare (Printed by Andr. Clark, for J. Martyn, and H. Herringman [etc.], London) [word count] [S33700].
