SCENE I.
A Church.
Enter two clowns, with spades and mattocks.
1 Clown.
Is she to be buried in christian burial, that willfully
seeks her own salvation?
2 Clown.
I tell thee, she is; therefore make her
grave straight, the crowner hath sate on her, and
finds it christian burial.
1 Clown.
How can that be, unless she drowned
her self in her own defence?
2 Clown.
Why 'tis found so.
1 Clown.
It must be se offendendo, it cannot be else. For
here lyes the point; if I drown my self wittingly, it argues an act;
and an act hath three branches. It is an act to do, and to perform;
argal, she drown'd her self wittingly.
2 Clown.
Nay, but hear you, goodman Delver.
1 Clown.
Give me leave; here lyes the water, good: here
stands the man, good: if the man go to this water, and drown
himself; it is will he, nill he, he goes; mark you that: but if
the water come to him, and drown him; he drowns not himself.
Argal, he that is not guilty of his own death, shortens not his
own life.
2 Clown.
But is this law?
1 Clown.
Ay marry is't, crowner's quest law.
2 Clown.
Will you ha' the truth on't? if this had not been a
gentlewoman, she should have been buried out of christian burial.
-- 451 --
1 Clown.
Why there thou say'st. And the more pity that
great folk should have countenance in this world to drown or hang
themselves, more than other christians. Come, my spade; there
is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers and grave-makers;
they hold up Adam's profession.
2 Clown.
Was he a gentleman?
1 Clown.
He was the first that ever bore arms.
2 Clown.
Why, he had none.
1 Clown.
What, art a heathen? how dost thou understand the
scripture? the scripture says, Adam digg'd; could he dig without
arms? I'll put another question to thee; if thou answerest me
not to the purpose, confess thy self—
2 Clown.
Go to.
1 Clown.
What is he that builds stronger than either the mason,
the ship-wright, or the carpenter?
2 Clown.
The gallows-maker, for that frame out-lives a thousand
tenants.
1 Clown.
I like thy wit well in good faith, the gallows
does well; but how does it well? it does well to those that do
ill: now thou dost ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the
church; argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To't again,
come.
2 Clown.
Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or
a carpenter?—
1 Clown.
Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.
2 Clown.
Marry, now I can tell.
1 Clown.
To't.
2 Clown.
Mass, I cannot tell.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio at a distance.
1 Clown.
Cudgel thy brains no more about it; for your dull
ass will not mend his pace with beating; and when you are ask'd
this question next, say a grave-maker. The houses he makes,
-- 452 --
last 'till dooms-day: go, get thee to Youghan, fetch me a stoup
of liquor.
[Exit 2 Clown.
He digs and sings.
In youth when I did love, did love,
Methought it was very sweet;
To contract oh the time for a my behove,
Oh methought there was nothing meet.
Ham.
Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he sings
at grave-making?
Hor.
Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.
Ham.
'Tis e'en so; the hand of little imployment hath the
daintier sense.
Clown sings.
But age with his stealing steps,
Hath claw'd me in his clutch:
And hath shipped me into the land,
As if I ne'er had been such.
Ham.
That scull had a tongue in it, and could sing once;
how the knave jowles it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jawbone,
bone, that did the first murther! this might be the pate of a politician
which this ass o'er-offices; one that could circumvent
God, might it not?
Hor.
It might, my lord.
Ham.
Or of a courtier, which could say, good-morrow sweet
lord; how dost thou, good lord? this might be my lord such a
one, that prais'd my lord such a ones horse, when he meant to
beg it; might it not?
Hor.
Ay, my lord.
Ham.
Why e'en so: and now my lady Worm's, chopless, and
knockt about the mazzard with a sexton's spade. Here's fine
revolution, if we had the trick to see't. Did these bones cost no
-- 453 --
more the breeding, but to play at loggers with 'em? mine ake
to think on't.
Clown sings.
A pick-axe and a spade, a spade,
For and, a shrowding sheet!
O, a pit of clay, for to be made
For such a guest is meet.
Ham.
There's another: why may not that be the scull of a
lawyer? where be his quiddits now? his quillets? his cases? his
tenures, and his tricks? why does he suffer this rude knave now
to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not
tell him of his action of battery? hum! this fellow might be in's
time a great buyer of land, with his statutes, his recognizances,
his fines, his double vouchers, his recoveries. Is this the fine of
his fines, and the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine
pate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch him no more of
his purchases, and double ones too, than the length and breadth
of a pair of indentures? the very conveyances of his lands will
hardly lye in this box; and must the inheritor himself have no
more? ha?
Hor.
Not a jot more, my lord.
Ham.
Is not parchment made of sheep-skins?
Hor.
Ay my lord, and of calve-skins too.
Ham.
They are sheep and calves that seek out assurance in that.
I will speak to this fellow: Whose grave's this, sirrah?
Clown.
Mine, Sir—
O, a pit of clay for to be made,
For such a ghost is meet.
Ham.
I think it be thine indeed: for thou liest in't.
Clown.
You lie out on't, Sir, and therefore it is not yours;
for my part I do not lie in't, yet it is mine.
Ham.
Thou dost lie in't, to be in't, and say 'tis thine; 'tis for
-- 454 --
the dead, not for the quick, therefore thou ly'st.
Clown.
'Tis a quick lie, Sir, 'twill away again from me to you.
Ham.
What man dost thou dig it for?
Clown.
For no man, Sir.
Ham.
What woman then?
Clown.
For none neither.
Ham.
Who is to be buried in't?
Clown.
One that was a woman, Sir; but rest her soul, she's
dead.
Ham.
How absolute the knave is? we must speak by the card,
or equivocation will follow us. By the lord, Horatio, these
three years I have taken note of it, the age is grown so picked,
that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of our courtier,
he galls his kibe. How long hast thou been a grave-maker?
Clown.
Of all the days i'th' year, I came to't that day that our
last King Hamlet o'ercame Fortinbras.
Ham.
How long is that since?
Clown.
Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: it was
that very day that young Hamlet was born, he that was mad,
and sent into England.
Ham.
Ay marry, why was he sent into England?
Clown.
Why, because he was mad; he shall recover his wits
there; or if he do not, it's no great matter there.
Ham.
Why?
Clown.
'Twill not be seen in him, there the men are as mad as
he.
Ham.
How came he mad?
Clown.
Very strangely, they say.
Ham.
How strangely?
Clown.
Faith e'en with losing his wits.
Ham.
Upon what ground?
Clown.
Why, here in Denmark. I have been sexton here,
man and boy, thirty years.
-- 455 --
Ham.
How long will a man lie i'th' earth ere he rot?
Clown.
I'faith, if he be not rotten before he die, (as we have
many pocky coarses now-a-days, that will scarce hold the laying
in) he will last you some eight year, or nine year; a tanner will
last you nine years.
Ham.
Why he, more than another?
Clown.
Why Sir, his hide is so tann'd with his trade, that he
will keep out water a great while. And your water is a sore decayer
of your whorson dead body. Here's a scull now has lain in
the earth three and twenty years.
Ham.
Whose was it?
Clown.
A whorson mad fellow's it was; whose do you think
it was?
Ham.
Nay, I know not.
Clown.
A pestilence on him for a mad rogue, he pour'd a flagon
of rhenish on my head once. This same scull, Sir, was Yorick's
scull, the King's jester.
Ham.
This?
Clown.
E'en that.
Ham.
Alas poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio, a fellow of infinite
jest; of most excellent fancy: he hath born me on his back
a thousand times: and now how abhorred in my imagination it
is! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kiss'd
I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols?
your songs? your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the
table in a roar? not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite
chop-fallen? now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her,
let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make
her laugh at that—Pr'ythee, Horatio, tell me one thing.
Hor.
What's that, my lord?
Ham.
Dost thou think Alexander look'd o' this fashion i'th'
earth?
Hor.
E'en so.
-- 456 --
Ham.
And smelt so, puh?
[Smelling to the Scull.
Hor.
E'en so, my lord.
Ham.
To what base uses we may return, Horatio! why may
not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, 'till he find
it stopping a bung-hole?
Hor.
'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.
Ham.
No faith, not a jot. But to follow him thither with
modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it; as thus: Alexander died,
Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust; the dust
is earth; of earth we make lome, and why of that lome whereto
he was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?
Imperial Cæsar dead and turn'd to clay,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:
Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall, t' expel the winter's flaw!
But soft! but soft a while—here comes the King,
SCENE II.
Enter King, Queen, Laertes, and a coffin, with Lords and Priests attendant.
The Queen, the courtiers. What is that they follow,
And with such maimed rights? this doth betoken,
The coarse they follow did with desperate hand
Fore-do its own life; 'twas of some estate.
Couch we a while, and mark.
Laer.
What ceremony else?
Ham.
That is Laertes, a most noble youth: mark—
Laer.
What ceremony else?
Priest.
Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd
As we have warranty; her death was doubtful,
And but that great command o'er-sways the order,
She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'd
-- 457 --
'Till the last trump. For charitable prayers,
Shards, flints, and pebbles, should be thrown on her;
Yet here she is allow'd her virgin rites,
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.
Laer.
Must no more be done?
Priest.
No more be done:
We should prophane the service of the dead,
To sing a Requiem, and such rest to her
As to peace-parted souls.
Laer.
Lay her i'th' earth,
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,
A ministring angel shall my sister be,
When thou liest howling.
Ham.
What, the fair Ophelia!
Queen.
Sweets to the sweet, farewel!
I hop'd thou would'st have been my Hamlet's wife;
I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,
And not have strew'd thy grave.
Laer.
O treble woe
Fall tentimes treble on that cursed head,
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
Depriv'd thee of. Hold off the earth a while,
'Till I have caught her once more in my arms,
[Laertes leaps into the grave.
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
'Till of this flat a mountain you have made,
T' o'er-top old Pelion, or the skyish head
Of blue Olympus.
Ham. [discovering himself.]
What is he, whose griefs
Bear such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wandring stars, and makes them stand
-- 458 --
Like wonder-wounded hearers? this is I,
[Hamlet leaps into the grave.
Hamlet the Dane.
Laer.
The devil take thy soul!
[Grappling with him.
Ham.
Thou pray'st not well.
I pr'ythee take thy fingers from my throat—
For though I am not splenative and rash,
Yet have I in me something dangerous,
Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand.
King.
Pluck them asunder—
Queen.
Hamlet, Hamlet—
Hor.
Good my lord be quiet.
[The attendants part them.
Ham.
Why, I will fight with him upon this theme,
Until my eye-lids will no longer wag.
Queen.
Oh my son! what theme?
Ham.
I lov'd Ophelia; forty thousand brothers
Could not with all their quantity of love
Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?
King.
O he is mad, Laertes.
Queen.
For love of God forbear him.
Ham.
Come shew me what thou'lt do.
Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thy self?
Woo't drink up Esill, eat a crocodile?
I'll do't. Do'st thou come hither but to whine;
To out-face me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her; and so will I;
And if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
Millions of acres on us, 'till our ground
Sindging his pate against the burning zone,
Make Ossa like a wart! nay, an thou'lt mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou.
King.
This is mere madness;
And thus a while the fit will work on him:
-- 459 --
Anon as patient as the female dove,
When that her golden cuplets are disclos'd,
His silence will sit drooping.
Ham.
Hear you Sir—
What is the reason that you use me thus?
I lov'd you ever; but it is no matter—
Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew, and dog will have his day.
[Exit.
King.
I pray you good Horatio, wait upon him.
[Exit Hor.
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech.
[To Laertes.
We'll put the matter to the present push.
Good Gertrude set some watch over your son.
This grave shall have a living monument.
An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
'Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Hall.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
Ham.
So much for this, now shall you see the other.
You do remember all the circumstance.
Hor.
Remember it, my lord?
Ham.
Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,
That would not let me sleep; methought I lay
Worse than the mutineers in bilboes; rashness
(And prais'd be rashness for it) lets us know
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,
When our deep plots do fail; and that should teach us,
There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.
-- 460 --
Hor.
That is most certain.
Ham.
Up from my cabin,
My sea-gown scarft about me, in the dark
Grop'd I to find out them; had my desire,
Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrew
To mine own room again, making so bold
(My fears forgetting manners) to unseal
Their grand commission, where I found, Horatio,
A royal knavery; an exact command,
Larded with many several sorts of reasons,
Importing Denmark's health, and England's too,
(With ho! such buggs and goblings in my life,)
That on the supervize, no leisure bated,
No not to stay the grinding of the ax,
My head should be struck off.
Hor.
Is't possible?
Ham.
Here's the commission, read it at more leisure;
But wilt thou hear now how I did proceed?
Hor.
I beseech you.
Ham.
Being thus benetted round with villains,
Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,
They had begun the play. I sate me down,
Devis'd a new commission, wrote it fair:
(I once did hold it as our statists do,
A baseness to write fair; and labour'd much
How to forget that learning; but, Sir, now
It did me yeoman's service;) wilt thou know
Th' effect of what I wrote?
Hor.
Ay, good my lord.
Ham.
An earnest conjuration from the King,
As England was his faithful tributary,
As love between them like the palm might flourish,
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear,
-- 461 --
And stand a comma 'tween their amities,
And many such like As's of great charge;
That on the view and knowing these contents,
Without debatement further, more or less,
He should the bearers put to sudden death,
No shriving time allow'd.
Hor.
How was this seal'd?
Ham.
Why ev'n in that was heaven ordinate;
I had my father's signet in my purse,
Which was the model of that Danish seal:
I folded the writ up in form of th' other,
Subscrib'd it, gave th' impression, plac'd it safely,
The change was never known: now, the next day
Was our sea-fight, and what to this was sequent,
Thou know'st already.
Hor.
So, Guildenstern and Rosincrosse go to't.
Ham.
They are not near my conscience; their defeat
Doth by their own insinuation grow:
'Tis dangerous when baser nature comes
Between the pass, and fell incensed points
Of mighty opposites.
Hor.
Why, what a King is this?
Ham.
Does it not, think'st thou, stand me now upon?
He that hath kill'd my King, and whor'd my mother,
Popt in between th' election and my hopes,
Thrown out his angle for my proper life,
And with such cozenage; is't not perfect conscience,
To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd,
To let this canker of our nature come
In further evil?
Hor.
It must be shortly known to him from England,
What is the issue of the business there.
Ham.
It will be short.
-- 462 --
The Interim's mine, and a man's life's no more
Than to say, one.
But I am very sorry, good Horatio,
That to Laertes I forgot my self;
For by the image of my cause I see
The pourtraiture of his; I'll court his favours:
But sure the bravery of his grief did put me
Into a towring passion.
Hor.
Peace, who comes here?
SCENE IV.
Enter Osrick.
Osr.
Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.
Ham.
I humbly thank you, Sir. Dost know this water-fly?
Hor.
No, my good lord.
Ham.
Thy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice to know
him: he hath much land, and fertile; let a beast be lord of beasts,
and his crib shall stand at the King's messe; 'tis a chough; but
as I say, spacious in the possession of dirt.
Osr.
Sweet lord, if your a notelordship were at leisure, I should impart
a thing to you from his majesty.
Ham.
I will receive it with all diligence of spirit; put your
bonnet to his right use, 'tis for the head.
Osr.
I thank your lordship, 'tis very hot.
Ham.
No, believe me, 'tis very cold, the wind is northerly.
Osr.
It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.
Ham.
Methinks it is very sultry, and hot for my complexion.
Osr.
Exceedingly, my lord, it is very sultry, as 'twere, I cannot
tell how:—My lord, his majesty bid me signifie to you, that
he has laid a great wager on your head: Sir, this is the matter—
Ham.
I beseech you remember—
Osr.
Nay in good faith, for mine ease in good faith: Sir, you
are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is at his weapon.
-- 463 --
Ham.
What's his weapon?
Osr.
Rapier and dagger.
Ham.
That's two of his weapons; but well.
Osr.
The King, Sir, has wag'd with him six Barbary horses,
against the which he impon'd, as I take it, six French rapiers and
poniards, with their assigns, as girdle, hangers, or so: three of
the carriages in faith are very dear to fancy, very responsive to
the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberal conceit.
Ham.
What call you the carriages?
Osr.
The carriages, Sir, are the hangers.
Ham.
The phrase would be more germane to the matter, if we
could carry cannon by our sides; I would it might be hangers
'till then. But on; six Barbary horses, against six French swords,
their assigns, and three liberal-conceited carriages, that's the French
bett against the Danish; why is this impon'd, as you call it?
Osr.
The King, Sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passes between
you and him, he shall not exceed you three hits; he hath laid
on twelve for nine, and it would come to immediate tryal, if your
lordship would vouchsafe the answer.
Ham.
How if I answer no?
Osr.
I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in tryal.
Ham.
Sir, I will walk here in the hall; if it please his majesty,
'tis the breathing time of day with me; let the foils be brought, the
gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpose; I will win for him
if I can: if not, I'll gain nothing but my shame, and the odd hits.
Osr.
Shall I deliver you so?
Ham.
To this effect, Sir, after what flourish your nature will.
Osr.
I commend my duty to your lordship.
[Exit.
Ham.
Yours, yours; he does well to commend it himself,
there are no tongues else for's turn.
Hor.
This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.
Ham.
He did so with his dug before he suck'd it: thus has he
(and many more of the same breed that I know the drossy age
-- 464 --
dotes on) only got the tune of the time, and outward habit of encounter,
a kind of yesty collection, which carries them through
and through the most fond and winnowed opinions; and do but
blow them to their tryals, the bubbles are out.
Enter a Lord.
Lord.
My lord, his majesty commended him to you by young
Osrick, who brings back to him, that you attend him in the hall;
he sends to know if your pleasure hold to play with Laertes, or
that you will take longer time?
Ham.
I am constant to my purposes, they follow the King's
pleasure; if his fitness speaks, mine is ready, now or whensoever,
provided I be so able as now.
Lord.
The King and Queen and all are coming down.
Ham.
In happy time.
Lord.
The Queen desires you to use some gentle entertainment
to Laertes, before you fall to play.
Ham.
She well instructs me.
Hor.
You will lose this wager, my lord.
Ham.
I do not think so; since he went into France, I have
been in continual practice; I shall win at the odds. But thou
wouldst not think how ill all's here about my heart—but it is
no matter.
Hor.
Nay, good my lord.
Ham.
It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of game-giving as
would perhaps trouble a woman.
Hor.
If your mind dislike any thing, obey it. I will forestal
their repair hither, and say you are not fit.
Ham.
Not a whit, we defy augury; there's special providence in
the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to
come, it will be now: if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness
is all. Since no man has ought of what he leaves, what
is't to leave betimes?
-- 465 --
SCENE V.
Enter King, Queen, Laertes and lords, with other attendants with
foils, and gantlets. A table, and flagons of wine on it.
King.
Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
Ham.
Give me your pardon, Sir, I've done you wrong,
But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.
This presence knows, and you must needs have heard
How I am punished with sore distraction.
What I have done
That might your nature, honour, and exception
Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness:
Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? never Hamlet.
If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,
And when he's not himself, do's wrong Laertes;
Then Hamlet do's it not; Hamlet denies it:
Who does it then? his madness. If't be so,
Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd,
His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.
Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd evil,
Free me so far in your most generous thoughts,
That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,
And hurt my b notebrother.
Laer.
I am satisfied in nature,
Whose motive, in this case, should stir me most
To my revenge: but in my terms of honour,
I stand aloof, and will no reconcilement;
'Till by some elder masters of known honour
I have a voice, and president of peace
To keep my name ungor'd. But 'till that time,
I do receive your offer'd love like love,
And will not wrong it.
-- 466 --
Ham.
I embrace it freely,
And will this brother's wager frankly play.
Give us the foils:
Laer.
Come one for me.
Ham.
I'll be your foil, Laertes; in mine ignorance
Your skill shall like a star i'th' darkest night
Stick fiery off, indeed.
Laer.
You mock me, Sir.
Ham.
No, by this hand.
King.
Give them the foils, young Osrick.
Hamlet, you know the wager.
Ham.
Well, my lord,
Your grace hath laid the odds o'th' weaker side.
King.
I do not fear it, I have seen you both:
But since he's better'd, we have therefore odds.
Laer.
This is too heavy, let me see another.
Ham.
This likes me well; these foils have all a length?
[Prepares to play.
Osr.
Ay, my good lord.
King.
Set me the stoops of wine upon that table:
If Hamlet give the first, or second hit,
Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
Let all the battlements their ordnance fire.
The King shall drink to Hamlet's better breath,
And in the cup an c noteOnyx shall he throw,
Richer than that which four successive Kings
In Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups,
And let the kettle to the trumpets speak,
The trumpets to the canoneer without,
The cannons to the heav'ns, the heav'ns to earth.
Now the King drinks to Hamlet. Come, begin,
And you the Judges bear a wary eye.
Ham.
Come on, Sir.
-- 467 --
Laer.
Come, my lord.
[They play.
Ham.
One—
Laer.
No—
Ham.
Judgment.
Osr.
A hit, a very palpable hit.
Laer.
Well—again—
King.
Stay, give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine,
Here's to thy health. Give him the cup.
[Trumpet sound, Shot goes off.
Ham.
I'll play this bout first, set it by a while.
[They play.
Come—another hit—what say you?
Laer.
A touch, a touch, I do confess.
King.
Our son shall win.
Queen.
He's fat, and scant of breath,
Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows,
The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.
Ham.
Good madam—
King.
Gertrude, do not drink.
Queen.
I will, my lord; I pray you pardon me.
King.
It is the poison'd cup, it is too late.
[aside.
Ham.
I dare not drink yet, madam, by and by.
Queen.
Come, let me wipe thy face.
Laer.
I'll hit him now.
King.
I do not think't.
Laer.
And yet it is almost against my conscience.
[aside.
Ham.
Come, for the third, Laertes, you but dally,
I pray you pass with your best violence,
I am afraid you make a wanton of me.
Laer.
Say you so? come on.
[Play.
Osr.
Nothing neither way.
Laer.
Have at you now.
[Laertes wounds Hamlet, then in scuffling they change rapiers, and Hamlet wounds Laertes.
-- 468 --
King.
Part them, they are incens'd.
Ham.
Nay, come again—
Osr.
Look to the Queen there, ho!
Hor.
They bleed on both sides. How is't, my lord?
Osr.
How is't Laertes?
Laer.
Why, as a woodcock to my own sprindge, Osrick,
I'm justly kill'd with mine own treachery.
Ham.
How does the Queen?
King.
She swoons to see them bleed.
Queen.
No, no, the drink, the drink—
Oh my dear Hamlet, the drink, the drink,—
I am poison'd—
[Queen dies.
Ham.
Oh villany! hoe! let the door be lock'd:
Treachery! seek it out—
Laer.
It is here. Hamlet, thou art slain,
No medicine in the world can do thee good.
In thee there is not half an hour of life;
The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,
Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practice
Hath turn'd it self on me. Lo, here I lye,
Never to rise again; thy mother's poison'd;
I can no more—the King, the King's to blame.
Ham.
The point envenom'd too?
Then venom to thy work.
[Stabs the King.
All.
Treason, treason.
King.
O yet defend me, friends, I am but hurt.
Ham.
Here thou incestuous, murd'rous, damned Dane,
Drink off this potion: is d notethe onyx here?
Follow my mother.
[King dies.
Laer.
He is justly serv'd.
It is a poison temper'd by himself.
Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet;
-- 469 --
Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,
Nor thine on me!
[Dies.
Ham.
Heav'n make thee free of it, I follow thee.
I'm dead, Horatio; wretched Queen, adieu!
You that look pale, and tremble at this chance,
That are but mutes or audience to this act,
Had I but time, (as this fell serjeant death
Is strict in his arrest) oh I could tell you—
But let it be—Horatio, I am dead,
Thou liv'st, report me and my cause aright
To the unsatisfied.
Hor.
Never believe it.
I'm more an antique Roman than a Dane;
Here's yet some liquor left.
Ham.
As th' art a man,
Give me the cup; let go, by heav'n I'll have't.
Oh good Horatio, what a wounded name,
Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me?
If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,
Absent thee from felicity a while,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
To tell my tale.
[March afar off, and shout within.
What warlike noise is this?
SCENE VI.
Enter Osrick.
Osr.
Young Fortinbrass, with conquest come from Poland,
To the ambassadors of England gives
This warlike volley,
Ham.
O, I die, Horatio:
The potent poison quite o'er-grows my spirit,
I cannot live to hear the news from England.
-- 470 --
But I do prophesie th' election lights
On Fortinbras, he has my dying voice,
So tell him, with th' occurrents more or less,
Which have solicited.—The rest is silence,
[Dies.
Hor.
Now cracks a noble heart; good-night, sweet prince;
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
Why do's the drum come hither?
Enter Fortinbras and English Ambassador, with drum, colours,
and attendants.
Fort.
Where is this sight?
Hor.
What is it you would see?
If ought of woe or wonder, cease your search.
Fort.
This quarry cries on havock. Oh proud death!
What feast is tow'rd in thine eternal cell,
That thou so many princes at a shot
So bloodily hast struck?
Amb.
The sight is dismal,
And our affairs from England come too late:
The ears are senseless that should give us hearing;
To tell him his command'ment is fulfill'd,
That Rosincrosse and Guildenstern are dead:
Where should we have our thanks?
Hor.
Not from his mouth,
Had it th' ability of life to thank you:
He never gave command'ment for their death.
But since so full upon this bloody question,
You from the Polack wars, and you from England,
Are here arriv'd; give order that these bodies
High on a stage be placed to the view,
And let me speak to th' yet unknowing world,
How these things came about. So shall you hear
Of cruel, bloody, and unnatural acts,
-- 471 --
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning, and forc'd cause,
And in this upshot, purposes mistook,
Fall'n on th' inventors heads. All this can I
Truly deliver.
Fort.
Let us haste to hear it,
And call the noblest to the audience.
For me, with sorrow, I embrace my fortune,
I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,
Which now to claim, my vantage doth invite me.
Hor.
Of that I shall have also cause to speak,
And from his mouth whose voice will draw no more:
But let this same be presently perform'd,
Ev'n while men minds are wild, lest more mischance
On plots and errors happen.
Fort.
Let four captains
Bear Hamlet like a soldier off the stage,
For he was likely, had he been put on,
To have prov'd most royally. And for his passage,
The soldiers musick, and the rites of war
Speak loudly for him—
Take up the body: such a sight as this,
Becomes the field, but here shews much amiss.
Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
[Exeunt marching: after which, a peal of ordnance are shot off.
