King.
Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
The memory be ^note green, and that it us befitted ^{note note}
To bear ^note our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom
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 ^note sister, now our queen,
The imperial jointress to ^note this warlike state,

Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,—
With an auspicious and a ^note dropping ^note eye,
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. ^note
Now follows, that you know, young ^note 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,
Colleagued ^note with this ^note dream of his ^note advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with ^note all bonds ^note of law, ^note
To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting: ^note
Thus much the business is: we have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,—
Who, impotent and bed-rid ^note, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew's purpose,—to suppress
His further gait ^note herein; in ^note that the ^note levies,
The lists and full proportions, are all made
Out of his subject ^note: and we here ^note dispatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand ^note,

For bearers ^note of this greeting ^note to old Norway,
Giving to you no further personal power
To business ^note with the king more than ^note the scope
Of ^note these delated ^note articles allow. ^note
Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty ^note.

Cor. Vol. ^note
In that and all things will we show our duty.

King.
We doubt it nothing ^note: heartily farewell. [Exeunt ^note Voltimand and Cornelius.
And ^note 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 ^note your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes,
That shall not be my offer, not thy ^note asking?
The head ^note is not more native ^note to the heart,
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to ^note thy father.
What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

Laer.
My dread ^note lord,
Your leave and favour to return to France,
From whence though willingly I came to Denmark,
To show my duty in your coronation,
Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again toward ^note France
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

King.
Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? ^note

Pol.
He hath ^note, my lord, ^note wrung from me my slow leave
By laboursome petition ^note, and at last ^note
Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent: ^note
I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

King.
Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, ^note
And thy best graces ^note spend ^note it at thy will!
But now, my cousin Hamlet, and ^note my son,— ^note

Ham. [Aside] ^note
A little more than kin, and less than kind.

King.
How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

Ham.
Not so ^note, my lord; I am too much i' the sun ^note.

Queen.
Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted ^note colour off,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
Do not for ever with thy vailed ^note lids
Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
Thou know'st 'tis ^note common; ^note all that lives ^note 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 ^note cloak, good mother ^note,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, moods ^note, shapes ^note of grief,
That can denote ^note me truly: these indeed ^note seem,
For they are actions that a man might play:
But I have that within which passes ^note show;
These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

King.
'Tis sweet and ^note commendable in your nature, Hamlet, ^{note note}
To give these mourning duties to your father:
But, you must know, your father lost a father,
That ^note father lost, lost his ^note, and the survivor bound
In filial obligation for some term
To do obsequious sorrow ^note: but to persever ^note
In obstinate condolement is a course
Of ^note impious stubbornness; 'tis ^note unmanly grief:
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
A heart unfortified, a mind ^note 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,
To reason most absurd ^note, whose common theme
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
From the first corse ^note till he that died to-day,
‘This must be so.’ We pray you, throw to earth
This unprevailing ^note woe, and think of us

As of a father: for let ^note the world take note,
You are the most immediate to our throne,
And with ^note no less nobility ^note of love
Than that which dearest father bears his son
Do I ^note impart ^note toward ^note you. For ^note your intent
In going back to school in Wittenberg ^note,
It is most retrograde ^note to our desire:
And we beseech you, bend ^note you to remain
Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest courtier, cousin and our son.

Queen.
Let not thy mother ^note lose ^note her prayers, Hamlet:
I pray thee ^note, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.

Ham.
I shall in all my best obey you, madam. ^note

King.
Why ^note, 'tis a loving and a fair reply:
Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;
This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet
Sits smiling to ^note my heart: in grace whereof,
No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,
But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell ^note,
And the king's rouse ^note the heaven ^note shall bruit ^note again,
Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. [Flourish ^note. Exeunt ^note all but Hamlet. ^note

Ham.
O, that this too too solid ^{note note} flesh would melt,
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon ^note 'gainst self-slaughter ^note! O God! O God! ^note
How weary ^note, stale, flat and unprofitable
Seem ^note to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie ^note! ^note 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That ^note it should come to this ^note!
But two months dead! nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr ^note: ^note so loving to my mother,
That he might not beteem ^{note note} the winds of heaven ^note
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? ^{note note} why, she would ^note hang on ^note him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on: and ^note yet, within a month—
Let me not think on't ^note—Frailty, thy name is woman!—
A little month, or ^note ere ^note those shoes ^note were old
With which she follow'd ^note my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears ^note:—why ^note she, even she, ^note—

O God ^note! a beast, that wants discourse of reason ^note,
Would have mourn'd longer,—married with my ^note uncle,
My father's brother, but ^note no more like my father
Than I to Hercules: within a month;
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous ^note tears
Had left the flushing in ^note her galled eyes,
She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity ^note to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to good:
But break, my ^note heart, for I must hold my tongue! Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo. ^{note note}

Hor.
Hail to your lordship!

Ham.
I am glad to see you well ^note:
Horatio,— ^noteor I do ^note forget myself. ^note

Hor.
The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. ^note

Ham.
Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: ^note
And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
Marcellus? ^note

Mar.
My good lord? ^note

Ham.
I am very glad to see you. [To Ber.] ^note Good even ^note, sir. ^note

But what ^note, in faith ^note, make you from Wittenberg?

Hor.
A truant disposition, good my ^note lord.

Ham.
I would not hear ^note your enemy say so,
Nor shall you do my ^note ear that violence,
To make ^note it truster ^note of your own report
Against yourself: I know you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinore ^note?
We'll teach you to drink deep ^note ere you depart.

Hor.
My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

Ham.
I prethee ^note, do not mock me, fellow-student ^note;
I think it was to see ^note my mother's wedding.

Hor.
Indeed, my lord, it follow'd ^note hard upon.

Ham.
Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked-meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or ever I had ^note seen that day, Horatio!
My father!—methinks I see my father.

Hor.
O where ^note, my lord?

Ham.
In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Hor.
I saw him once; he was a goodly king.

Ham.
He ^note was a man, take him for ^note all in all,
I shall ^note not look upon his like again.

Hor.
My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

Ham.
Saw? who? ^note

Hor.
My lord, the king your father.

Ham.
The king my father!

Hor.
Season ^note your admiration for ^note a while
With an attent ^note ear, till I may ^note deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel ^note to you.

Ham.
For God's ^note love, ^note let me hear.

Hor.
Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead vast ^note and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
Armed at point ^note exactly, cap-a-pe ^note,
Appears before them, and with solemn march
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice ^note he walk'd
By their oppress'd and fear-surprised ^note eyes,
Within his ^note truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'd ^note
Almost to jelly with the act of ^note fear, ^note
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did; ^note
And I with them the third night kept the watch:
Where, as ^note they had deliver'd, both in ^note time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition ^note 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 ^note speak to it?

Hor.
My lord, I did,
But answer made it ^note none: yet once methought
It lifted up its ^note head and did address
Itself to motion, like ^note 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 ^note lord, 'tis true,
And we did think it writ down in ^note our duty
To let you know of ^note it.

Ham.
Indeed, indeed ^note, sirs, but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch to-night?

Mar. Ber. ^note
We do, my lord.

Ham.
Arm'd, say you?

Mar. Ber. ^note
Arm'd, my lord.

Ham.
From top to toe?

Mar. Ber. ^note
My lord ^note, from head to foot.

Ham.
Then saw you not his face? ^note

Hor.
O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up ^note. ^note

Ham.
What, look'd he ^note 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 amazed you.

Ham.
Very like, very like ^note. Stay'd it long?

Hor.
While one with moderate ^note haste might tell a ^note hundred ^note.

Mar. Ber. ^{note note}
Longer, longer.

Hor.
Not when I saw't.

Ham.
His beard was grizzled? no? ^note

Hor.
It was ^note, as ^note I have seen it in his life,
A sable silver'd.

Ham.
I will ^note watch to-night;
Perchance 'twill walk ^note again.

Hor.
I warrant ^note 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 ^note this sight,
Let it be tenable ^note in ^note your ^note silence still ^note,
And whatsoever ^note else shall hap ^note to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue:
I will requite your loves. So fare ^note you ^note well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven ^note and twelve,

I'll visit you.

All.
Our duty ^note to your honour ^note.

Ham.
Your loves ^note, as mine to you: farewell. ^note [Exeunt all but Hamlet. ^note
My father's spirit in arms! ^note all is not well;
I doubt some foul play: would the night were come!
Till then sit still, my soul: foul ^note deeds will rise,
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to ^note men's eyes. [Exit. ^note

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