King.
And can you, by no drift of circumstance ^note,
Get from him why he puts on this confusion ^note,
Grating so harshly all his days of quiet
With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?

Ros.
He does confess he feels himself distracted,
But from what cause he will ^note by no means speak.

Guil.
Nor do we find him forward to be sounded;
But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,
When we would bring him on to some confession
Of his true state ^note. ^note

Queen.
Did he receive you well?

Ros.
Most like a gentleman.

Guil.
But with much forcing of his disposition.

Ros.
Niggard of question, but of our demands
Most free ^note in his reply.

Queen.
Did you assay ^note him
To ^note any pastime? ^note

Ros.
Madam, it so ^note fell out that certain players
We o'er-raught ^note on the way: of these we told him,
And there did seem in him a kind of joy
To hear of it: they are about ^note the court,
And, as I think, they have already order
This night to play before him.

Pol.
'Tis most true:
And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties
To hear and see the matter.

King.
With all my heart; and it doth much content me
To hear him so inclined.
Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,
And drive his purpose on to ^note these delights. ^note

Ros.
We shall, my lord. [Exeunt ^note Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

King.
Sweet Gertrude ^note, leave us too; ^note
For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither ^note,
That he ^note, as 'twere by accident, may here ^note

Affront Ophelia ^note:
Her father and myself, lawful espials ^note, ^note
Will ^note so bestow ourselves that, seeing unseen ^note,
We may of their encounter frankly ^note judge,
And gather by him, as he is behaved,
If't be the affliction of his love or no ^note
That thus he suffers for.

Queen.
I shall obey you:
And for your ^note part, Ophelia, I do wish
That your good beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall ^note I hope your virtues ^note
Will ^note bring him to his wonted way again,
To both your honours.

Oph.
Madam, I wish it may. [Exit Queen. ^note

Pol.
Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you ^note,
We will bestow ourselves. [To Ophelia.] ^note Read on this book;
That show of such an exercise may colour
Your loneliness ^note. We are oft to blame ^note in this,—
'Tis too much proved—that with devotion's visage
And pious action we do sugar ^note o'er
The devil himself.

King. [Aside] ^note
O, 'tis too ^note true!
How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!
The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art,
Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it
Than is my deed to my most painted word:

O heavy burthen!

Pol. ^note
I hear him coming: let's ^note withdraw, my lord. [Exeunt ^note King and Polonius. Enter Hamlet. ^{note note}

Ham.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings ^note and arrows ^note of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of ^note troubles,
And by opposing ^note end them? ^note To die: to sleep;
No ^note more; ^note and by a sleep to say we end ^note
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ^note 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To ^note die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have ^note shuffled ^note off this mortal coil ^note,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life; ^note
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time ^note,

The oppressor's wrong, the proud ^note man's contumely,
The pangs ^note of despised love, the ^note law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he ^note himself might his quietus ^note make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels ^{note note} bear,
To grunt ^note and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd ^note country from whose bourn ^note
No traveller returns, puzzles ^note the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ^note,
And thus the native hue ^note of resolution
Is sicklied ^note o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch ^note and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry ^{note note}
And lose the name of action. Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! ^note Nymph, in thy orisons ^note
Be all my sins remember'd. ^note

Oph.
Good my lord,

How does your honour for this many a day?

Ham.
I humbly thank you: well, well, well. ^note

Oph.
My lord, I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longed long ^note to re-deliver;
I pray you, now receive them.

Ham.
No, not I ^note;
I never gave you aught. ^note

Oph.
My honour'd lord, you know ^note right well you did;
And with them words of so sweet breath composed
As made the things ^note more rich: their perfume lost, ^note
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?

Oph.

My lord? ^note

Ham.

Are you fair?

Oph.

What means your lordship?

Ham.

That if you be honest and fair, your honesty ^note should admit no discourse to your beauty. ^note

Oph.

Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce ^note than with ^note honesty?

Ham.

Ay, 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 into ^note his ^note likeness: this was sometime ^note a paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.

Oph.

Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.

Ham.

You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot so inoculate ^note our old stock but we shall relish of it: I loved you not. ^note

Oph.

I was the more deceived.

Ham.

Get thee to ^note a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; but yet I could accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious; with more offences at my beck ^note than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to ^note give them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between heaven and earth ^note? We are arrant knaves all ^note; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. Where's your father?

Oph.

At home, my lord.

Ham.

Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no where ^note but in's own house. ^note Farewell.

Oph.

O, help him, you sweet heavens!

Ham.

If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague ^note for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunnery, go: ^note farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go; and quickly too ^note. Farewell.

Oph.

O ^note heavenly powers, restore him!

Ham.

I have heard of your paintings ^note too ^note, well enough; God ^note hath ^note given you one face ^note, and you make yourselves ^note

another: you jig ^{note note}, you amble ^note, and you lisp, ^note and nick-name ^note God's ^note creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance ^{note note}. Go to ^note, I'll no more on't; it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages ^note: those that are married already, all but one, shall live ^note; the rest shall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go.

Oph.
O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown ^note!
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's ^note, ^note eye, tongue, sword:
The expectancy ^note and rose of the fair state,
The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
And I ^note, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That suck'd the honey of his music ^note vows, ^note
Now see that noble ^note and most sovereign reason,
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune ^note and harsh;
That unmatch'd ^note form ^note and feature ^note of blown youth
Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me,
To have ^note seen what I have seen, see what I see! ^note

Re-enter ^note King and Polonius. ^note

King.
Love! ^note his affections do not that way tend;
Nor ^note what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,
Was not like madness. There's something ^note in his soul ^note
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood,
And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose
Will be some danger: which for to ^note prevent,
I have in quick determination
Thus set it ^note 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 ^note matter in his heart,
Whereon his brains ^note still beating puts him thus
From fashion of himself. What think you on't? ^note

Pol.
It shall do well: but yet do I ^note believe
The origin and commencement of his grief ^{note note note}
Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia!
You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said; ^note
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 ^note: let her be round with him;
And I'll be placed, so please you ^note, 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 ^note go. [Exeunt. ^note

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