1 Clo.
A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,
[Sings.
For—and a shrouding sheet:
O! a pit of clay for to be made
For such a guest is meet.
[Throws up another scull.
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 knave8 note now to knock him about the
sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of his
action of battery? Humph! 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 too9 note, than the length and breadth of a
pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands
-- 326 --
will hardly lie 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 calf-skins too.
Ham.
They are sheep, and calves, which seek out
assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow.—Whose
grave's this, sir?
1 Clo.
Mine, sir.—
O, a pit of clay for to be made
[Sings.
For such a guest is meet.
Ham.
I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.
1 Clo.
You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not
yours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.
Ham.
Thou dost lie in't, to be in't, and say it is
thine: 'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore,
thou liest.
1 Clo.
'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again, from
me to you.
Ham.
What man dost thou dig it for?
1 Clo.
For no man, sir.
Ham.
What woman, then?
1 Clo.
For none, neither.
Ham.
Who is to be buried in't?
1 Clo.
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 undo 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 the courtier1 note, he galls his
kibe.—How long hast thou been a grave-maker?
-- 327 --
1 Clo.
Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that
day that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.
Ham.
How long is that since?
1 Clo.
Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell that.
It was the very day that young Hamlet was born; he
that is mad, and sent into England.
Ham.
Ay, marry; why was he sent into England?
1 Clo.
Why, because he was mad: he shall recover
his wits there; or, if he do not, 'tis no great matter
there.
Ham.
Why?
1 Clo.
'Twill not be seen in him there; there, the
men are as mad as he.
Ham.
How came he mad?
1 Clo.
Very strangely, they say.
Ham.
How strangely?
1 Clo.
'Faith, e'en with losing his wits.
Ham.
Upon what ground?
1 Clo.
Why, here in Denmark: I have been sexton
here2 note, man, and boy, thirty years.
Ham.
How long will a man lie i'the earth ere he
rot?
1 Clo.
'Faith, if he be not rotten before he die,
(as we have many pocky corses now-a-days3 note, that will
scarce hold the laying in) he will last you some eight
year, or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.
Ham.
Why he more than another?
1 Clo.
Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade,
that he will keep out water a great while, and your
water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.
Here's a scull now; this scull hath lain you i'the earth
three-and-twenty years.
Ham.
Whose was it?
-- 328 --
1 Clo.
A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do
you think it was?
Ham.
Nay, I know not.
1 Clo.
A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a'
poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This
same scull, sir, this same scull, sir, was Yorick's scull,
the king's jester.
Ham.
This?
[Takes the Scull.
1 Clo.
E'en that.
Ham.
Let me see4 note. Alas, poor Yorick!—I knew
him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent
fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand
times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it
is5 note! my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips, that I
have kissed 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 on a roar? Not
one now, to mock your own grinning6 note? quite chap-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 looked o'this
fashion i'the earth?
Hor.
E'en so.
Ham.
And smelt so? pah!
[Puts down 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?
-- 329 --
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
thus7 note; Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander
returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth
we make loam, and why of that loam, whereto he was
converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?
Imperial Cæsar8 note, dead, and turn'd to clay, 11Q1039
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:
O that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall t' expel the winter's flaw9 note!
But soft! but soft! aside:—here comes the king,
Enter Priests, &c. in Procession; the Corpse of Ophelia,
Laertes and Mourners following; King, Queen, their Trains, &c.
The queen, the courtiers. Who is that they follow,
And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken,
The corse they follow did with desperate hand
Fordo its own life: 'twas of some estate10 note.
Couch we a while, and mark.
[Retiring with Horatio.
Laer.
What ceremony else?
Ham.
That is Laertes,
A very noble youth: mark.
Laer.
What ceremony else?
1 Priest1 note.
Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd
As we have warranty: her death was doubtful;
-- 330 --
And but that great command o'ersways the order,
She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'd,
Till the last trumpet; for charitable prayers,
Shards2 note, flints, and pebbles, should be thrown on her;
Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants3 note,
Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home
Of bell and burial.
Laer.
Must there no more be done?
1 Priest.
No more be done.
We should profane the service of the dead,
To sing a requiem4 note, and such rest to her
As to peace-parted souls.
Laer.
Lay her i'the earth;
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh,
May violets spring!—I tell thee, churlish priest,
A ministering angel shall my sister be,
When thou liest howling.
Ham.
What! the fair Ophelia?
Queen.
Sweets to the sweet: farewell.
[Scattering flowers.
I hop'd thou should'st have been my Hamlet's wife:
I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,
And not to have strew'd thy grave.
Laer.
O! treble woe5 note
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head,
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
Depriv'd thee of!—Hold off the earth awhile,
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms.
[Leaping into the Grave.
-- 331 --
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
Till of this flat a mountain you have made,
To o'er-top old Pelion, or the skyish head
Of blue Olympus.
Ham. [Advancing.]
What is he, whose grief
Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow
Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand,
Like wonder-wounded hearers? this is I,
Hamlet the Dane.
[Leaping into the Grave.
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 not6 note splenetive and rash,
Yet have I in me something dangerous,
Which let thy wisdom fear. Hold off thy hand7 note.
King.
Pluck them asunder.
Queen.
Hamlet! Hamlet!
All.
Gentlemen8 note,—
Hor.
Good my lord, be quiet.
[The Attendants part them, and they come out of the Grave.
Ham.
Why, I will fight with him upon this theme,
Until my eyelids will no longer wag.
Queen.
O 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.
'Swounds9 note! show me what thou'lt do:
-- 332 --
Woul't weep? woul't fight? woul't fast? woul't tear thyself?
Woul't drink up Esill1 note? eat a crocodile?
I'll do't.—Dost thou come here to whine? 11Q1040
To outface 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,
Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou.
Queen.
This is mere madness2 note:
And thus a while the fit will work on him;
Anon, as patient as the female dove,
When that her golden couplets are disclos'd3 note,
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 Horatio.
[To Laertes.]
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;
We'll put the matter to the present push.—
Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.—
This grave shall have a living monument:
-- 333 --
An hour of quiet thereby shall we see4 note;
Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
11Q1041
A Hall in the Castle.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio.
Ham.
So much for this, sir: now shall you see the other5 note.—
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 mutines in the bilboes6 note. Rashly,—
And prais'd be rashness for it,—let us know,
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,
When our deep plots do pall; and that should teach us7 note,
There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.
Hor.
That is most certain.
Ham.
Up from my cabin,
My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the dark
-- 334 --
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 unfold8 note
Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio,
O royal knavery9 note! an exact command,—
Larded with many several sorts of reasons,
Importing Denmark's health, and England's too,
With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,—
That on the supervise, no leisure bated,
No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,
My head should be struck off.
Hor.
Is't possible?
Ham.
Here's the commission: read it at more leisure.
But wilt thou hear me10 note 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 sat 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
The 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,
And stand a comma 'tween their amities1 note,
-- 335 --
And many such like as's of great charge2 note,—
That on the view and know of these contents,
Without debatement farther, more or less,
He should the bearers put to sudden death,
Not shriving-time allow'd.
Hor.
How was this seal'd?
Ham.
Why, even in that was heaven ordinant3 note.
I had my father's signet in my purse,
Which was the model of that Danish seal;
Folded the writ up in form of the other;
Subscrib'd it; gave't th' impression; plac'd it safely,
The changeling never known. Now, the next day
Was our sea-fight, and what to this was sequent
Thou know'st already.
Hor.
So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.
Ham.
Why, man, they did make love to this employment4 note:
They are not near my conscience; their defeat
Does by their own insinuation grow.
'Tis dangerous, when the 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 thee, stand me now upon—
He that hath kill'd my king, and whor'd my mother;
Popp'd in between th' election and my hopes;
Thrown out his angle for my proper life,
And with such cozenage—is't not perfect conscience,
-- 336 --
To quit him with this arm5 note? and is't not to be damn'd,
To let this canker of our nature come
In farther evil?
Hor.
It must be shortly known to him from England,
What is the issue of the business there.
Ham.
It will be short: the interim is mine;
And a man's life no more than to say, one.
But I am very sorry, good Horatio,
That to Laertes I forgot myself,
For by the image of my cause I see
The portraiture of his: I'll count his favours6 note:
But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me
Into a towering passion.
Hor.
Peace! who comes here?
Enter Osrick7 note.
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 mess: 'tis a chough; but, as I say8 note, spacious in
the possession of dirt.
Osr.
Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, 11Q1042
should impart a thing to you from his majesty.
Ham.
I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of
spirit. Your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.
-- 337 --
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.
But yet, methinks, it is very sultry, and hot for
my complexion9 note.
Osr.
Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,—as
'twere,—I cannot tell how.—But my lord, his majesty
bade me signify to you, that he has laid a great wager
on your head. Sir, this is the matter,—
Ham.
I beseech you, remember—
[Hamlet moves him to put on his Hat.
Osr.
Nay, in good faith; for mine ease, in good faith.
Sir, here is newly come to court1 note, Laertes; believe me,
an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent differences,
of very soft society, and great showing: indeed,
to speak feelingly of him2 note, he is the card or calendar of
gentry, for you shall find in him the continent of what
part a gentleman would see.
Ham.
Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in
you; though, I know, to divide him inventorially,
would dizzy3 note the arithmetic of memory; and yet but
raw neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the
verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of great
article; and his infusion of such dearth and rareness,
as, to make true diction of him, his semblable is his
mirror; and who else would trace him, his umbrage,
nothing more.
-- 338 --
Osr.
Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.
Ham.
The concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the
gentleman in our more rawer breath?
Osr.
Sir?
Hor.
Is't not possible to understand in another
tongue4 note? You will do't, sir, really.
Ham.
What imports the nomination of this gentleman?
Osr.
Of Laertes?
Hor.
His purse is empty already; all his golden
words are spent.
Ham.
Of him, sir.
Osr.
I know, you are not ignorant—
Ham.
I would, you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did,
it would not much approve me.—Well, sir.
Osr.
You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes
is—
Ham.
I dare not confess that, lest I should compare
with him in excellence; but to know a man well were
to know himself.
Osr.
I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation
laid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed5 note.
Ham.
What's his weapon?
Osr.
Rapier and dagger.
Ham.
That's two of his weapons: but, well.
Osr.
The king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary
horses: against the which he has imponed6 note, as I
take it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their
-- 339 --
assigns, as girdle, hangers, and 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?
Hor.
I knew, you must be edified by the margin,
ere you had done7 note.
Osr.
The carriages, sir, are the hangers.
Ham.
The phrase would be more german to the
matter, if we could carry a 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
bet against the Danish. Why is this imponed, as you
call it8 note?
Osr.
The king, sir, hath laid, sir, that in a dozen
passes between yourself and him, he shall not exceed
you three hits: he hath laid, on twelve for nine; and
that would come to immediate trial, if your lordship
would vouchsafe the answer.
Ham.
How, if I answer, no?
Osr.
I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person
in trial.
Ham.
Sir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please
his majesty, it is 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 will gain nothing but my shame, and the odd hits.
Osr.
Shall I deliver you so9 note?
Ham.
To this effect, sir; after what flourish your
nature will.
Osr.
I commend my duty to your lordship.
[Exit.
-- 340 --
Ham.
Yours, yours.—He does well to commend it
himself; there are no tongues else for's turn10 note.
Hor.
This lapwing runs away with the shell on his
head.
Ham.
He did comply with his dug before he sucked
it1 note. Thus has he (and many more of the same breed2 note,
that, I know, the drossy age 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 opinions3 note;
and do but blow them to their trial, the bubbles are
out.
Enter a Lord4 note.
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.
-- 341 --
Ham.
She well instructs me.
[Exit Lord.
Hor.
You will lose this wager5 note, 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. Thou would'st 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 gain-giving6 note, as would, perhaps, trouble a woman.
Hor.
If your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I will
forestall their repair hither, and say you are not fit.
Ham.
Not a whit, we defy augury: there is a 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, of aught he leaves, knows, what is't to
leave betimes? Let be7 note.
Enter King, Queen, Laertes, Lords, Osrick, and
Attendants with Foils, &c.
King.
Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
[The King puts the Hand of Laertes into that of Hamlet.
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 punish'd
With sore distraction. What I have done,
-- 342 --
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 does wrong Laertes,
Then Hamlet does 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.
Sir, in this audience8 note,
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 brother9 note.
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 precedent 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.
Ham.
I embrace it freely;
And will this brother's wager frankly play.—
Give us the foils; come on1 note.
Laer.
Come; one for me.
Ham.
I'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignorance
Your skill shall, like a star i'the darkest night,
Stick fiery off indeed.
Laer.
You mock me, sir.
Ham.
No, by this hand.
-- 343 --
King.
Give them the foils, young Osrick.—Cousin Hamlet,
You know the wager?
Ham.
Very well, my lord;
Your grace hath laid the odds o'the weaker side.
King.
I do not fear it: I have seen you both;
But since he is 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?
[They prepare 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 union shall he throw2 note,
Richer than that which four successive kings
In Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,
“Now the king drinks to Hamlet!”—Come, begin;—
And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.
Ham.
Come on, sir.
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;
-- 344 --
Here's to thy health.—Give him the cup.
[Trumpets sound; and Cannon shot off within.
Ham.
I'll play this bout first; set it by awhile3 note.
Come.—Another hit; what say you?
[They play.
Laer.
A touch; a touch, I do confess.
King.
Our son shall win.
Queen.
He's fat, and scant of breath4 note
.—
Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows 11Q10435 note:
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.
My lord, I'll hit him now.
King.
I do not think it.
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 afeard, you make a wanton of me6 note.
Laer.
Say you so? come on.
[They play.
Osr.
Nothing, neither way.
-- 345 --
Laer.
Have at you now.
[Laertes wounds Hamlet; then, in scuffling they
change Rapiers, and Hamlet wounds Laertes.
King.
Part them! they are incens'd.
Ham.
Nay, come again.
[The Queen falls.
Osr.
Look to the queen there, ho!
Hor.
They bleed on both sides.—How is it, my lord?
Osr.
How is't, Laertes?
Laer.
Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osrick7 note;
I am 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,—O my dear Hamlet!—
The drink, the drink: I am poison'd.
[Dies.
Ham.
O villainy!—How? let the door be lock'd:
Treachery! seek it out.
[Laertes falls.
Laer.
It is here, Hamlet. Hamlet, thou art slain;
No medicine in the world can do thee good:
In thee there is not half an hour of life8 note;
The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,
Unbated, and envenom'd. The foul practice
Hath turn'd itself on me: lo! here I lie,
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, murderous, damned Dane,
Drink off this potion:—is thy union here?
-- 346 --
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:
Mine and my father's death come not upon thee;
Nor thine on me!
[Dies.
Ham.
Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.
I am 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 sergeant, death,
Is strict in his arrest) O! I could tell you,—
But let it be.—Horatio, I am dead;
Thou liv'st: report me and my cause aright9 note
To the unsatisfied.
Hor.
Never believe it:
I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:
Here's yet some liquor left.
Ham.
As thou'rt a man,
Give me the cup: let go; by heaven I'll have it.—
O God!—Horatio1 note, 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 awhile,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
To tell my story.—
[March afar off, and Shot within2 note.
What warlike noise is this?
Osr.
Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,
To the ambassadors of England gives
This warlike volley.
-- 347 --
Ham.
O! I die, Horatio;
The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit3 note:
I cannot live to hear the news from England;
But I do prophesy the election lights
On Fortinbras: he has my dying voice;
So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,
Which have solicited—The rest is silence4 note.
[Dies.
Hor.
Now cracks a noble heart.—Good night, sweet prince;
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest! 11Q1044
Why does the drum come hither?
[March within.
Enter Fortinbras, the English Ambassadors, and Others.
Fort.
Where is this sight?
Hor.
What is it ye would see?
If aught of woe, or wonder, cease your search.
Fort.
This quarry cries on havock.—O proud death!
What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,
That thou so many princes at a shot
So bloodily hast struck?
1 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 commandment is fulfill'd,
That Rosencrantz 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 commandment for their death.
But since, so jump upon this bloody question,
You from the Polack wars, and you from England,
Are here arriv'd, give order that these bodies
-- 348 --
High on a stage be placed to the view;
And let me speak to the yet unknowing world,
How these things came about: so shall you hear
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning, and forc'd cause5 note,
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
Fall'n on the 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. 11Q1045
Hor.
Of that I shall have also cause to speak,
And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more6 note:
But let this same be presently perform'd,
Even while men's minds are wild, lest more mischance,
On plots and errors, happen.
Fort.
Let four captains
Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;
For he was likely, had he been put on,
To have prov'd most royally: and for his passage,
The soldiers' music, and the rites of war,
Speak loudly for him.—
Take up the body.—Such a sight as this
Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
[A dead March.
[Exeunt, marching; after which, a Peal of Ordnance is shot off.
