[Footnote I.97: _Beetles o'er his base into the sea_,] _i.e._,
projects darkly over the sea.]
[Footnote I.98: _NГ©mean lion's nerve._] Shakespeare, and nearly
all the poets of his time, disregarded the quantity of Latin
names. The poet has here placed the accent on the first syllable,
instead of the second.]
[Footnote I.99: _That lets me:_] To let, in the sense in which it
is here used, means to hinder--to obstruct--to oppose. The word
is derived from the Saxon.]
[Footnote I.100: _To fast in fires_,] Chaucer has a similar
passage with regard to eternal punishment--_"And moreover the
misery of Hell shall be in default of meat and drink."_]
[Footnote I.101: _Harrow up thy soul_;] Agitate and convulse.]
[Footnote I.102: _Hair to stand on end_,] A common image of that
day.
"_Standing_ as frighted with _erected haire_."]
[Footnote I.103: _The fretful porcupine:_] This animal being
considered irascible and timid.]
[Footnote I.104: _Eternal blazon_] _i.e._, publication or
divulgation of things eternal.]
[Footnote I.105: _Rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf_,] _i.e._,
in indolence and sluggishness, by its torpid habits contributes
to that morbid state of its juices which may figuratively be
denominated rottenness.]
[Footnote I.106: _Orchard_,] Garden.]
[Footnote I.107: _Forged process_] _i.e._, false report of
proceedings.]
[Footnote I.108: _Decline upon a wretch._] Stoop with degradation
to.]
[Footnote I.109: _Secure_] Unguarded.]
[Footnote I.110: _Hebenon_] Hebenon is described by Nares in his
Glossary, as the juice of ebony, supposed to be a deadly poison.]
[Footnote I.111: _Despatch'd:_] Despoiled--bereft.]
[Footnote I.112: _Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd_;] To
_housel_ is to minister the sacrament to one lying on his death
bed. _Disappointed_ is the same as unappointed, which here means
unprepared. _Unanel'd_ is without extreme unction.]
[Footnote I.113: _Luxury_] Lasciviousness.]
[Footnote I.114: _Pale his uneffectual fire:_] _i.e._, not seen
by the light of day; or it may mean, shining without heat.]
[Footnote I.115: _In this distracted globe._] _i.e._, his head
distracted with thought.]
[Footnote I.116: _Pressures past_,] Impressions heretofore made.]
[Footnote I.117: _Come, bird, come._] This is the call which
falconers used to their hawk in the air when they would have him
come down to them.]
[Footnote I.118:
_There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark--
But he's an arrant knave._]
Hamlet probably begins these words in the ardour of confidence
and sincerity; but suddenly alarmed at the magnitude of the
disclosure he was going to make, and considering that, not his
friend Horatio only, but another person was present, he breaks
off suddenly:--"There's ne'er a villain in all Denmark that can
match (perhaps he would have said) my uncle in villainy; but
recollecting the danger of such a declaration, he pauses for a
moment, and then abruptly concludes:--"but he's an arrant
knave."]
[Footnote I.119: _Whirling words_,] Random words thrown out with
no specific aim.]
[Footnote I.120: _By Saint Patrick_,] At this time all the whole
northern world had their learning from Ireland; to which place it
had retired, and there flourished under the auspices of this
Saint.]
[Footnote I.121: _O'er-master it_] Get the better of it.]
[Footnote I.122: _Give it welcome._] Receive it courteously, as
you would a stranger when introduced.]
[Footnote I.123: _Antick disposition_] _i.e._, strange, foreign
to my nature, a disposition which Hamlet assumes as a protection
against the danger which he apprehends from his uncle, and as a
cloak for the concealment of his own meditated designs.]
[Footnote I.124: _Arms encumber'd thus_,] _i.e._, folded.]
[Footnote I.125: _Friending to you--shall not lack_] Disposition
to serve you shall not be wanting.]
ACT II.
SCENE I.--A ROOM IN POLONIUS'S HOUSE.
_Enter_ POLONIUS[1] (L.H.), _meeting Ophelia._ (R.H.)
_Pol._ How now, Ophelia! What's the matter?
_Oph._ O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!
_Pol._ With what, in the name of Heaven?
_Oph._ My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,
Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd;
Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other,
And with a look so piteous in purport,
He comes before me.
_Pol._ Mad for thy love?
_Oph._ My lord, I do not know;
But, truly, I do fear it.
_Pol._ What said he?
_Oph._ He took me by the wrist, and held me hard;
Then goes he to the length of all his arm;
And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
He falls to such perusal of my face
As he would draw it. Long staid he so;
At last,--a little shaking of mine arm,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound,
As it did seem to shatter all his bulk,[2]
And end his being: That done, he lets me go:
And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;
For out o'doors he went without their helps,
And, to the last, bended their light on me.
_Pol._ Come, go with me; I will go seek the king.
This is the very ecstacy of love;[3]
What, have you given him any hard words of late?
_Oph._ No, my good lord; but, as you did command,
I did repel his letters, and denied
His access to me.
_Pol._ That hath made him mad.
Come, go we to the king:
This must be known; which, being kept close, might move
More grief to hide than hate to utter love.[4]
Come.
[_Exeunt_ L.H.]
SCENE II.--A ROOM IN THE CASTLE.
_Enter_ KING, QUEEN, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, _and_
Attendants (R.H.)
_King._ (C.) Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!
Moreover that we much did long to see you,
The need we have to use you did provoke
Our hasty sending. Something have you heard
Of Hamlet's transformation. What it should be,
More than his father's death, that thus hath put him
So much from the understanding of himself,[5]
I cannot dream of: I entreat you both,
That you vouchsafe your rest[6] here in our court
Some little time: so by your companies
To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather,
Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus,
That, open'd, lies within our remedy.
_Queen._ (R.C.) Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you;
And sure I am two men there are not living
To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
So to expend your time with us a while,
Your visitation shall receive such thanks
As fits a king's remembrance.
_Ros._ (R.) Both your majesties
Might, by the sovereign power you have of us,[7]
Put your dread pleasures more into command
Than to entreaty.
_Guil._ (R.) But we both obey,
And here give up ourselves, in the full bent,[8]
To lay our service freely at your feet.
_King._ Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
_Queen._ I do beseech you instantly to visit
My too much changГЁd son. Go, some of you,
And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, _and_
Attendants, R.H.]
_Enter_ POLONIUS (L.H.)
_Pol._ Now do I think (or else this brain of mine
Hunts not the trail of policy[9] so sure
As it hath us'd to do), that I have found
The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.
_King._ (C.) O, speak of that; that do I long to hear.
_Pol._ (L.C.) My liege, and madam, to expostulate[10]
What majesty should be, what duty is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time;
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,--
I will be brief:--Your noble son is mad:
Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,
What is't, but to be nothing else but mad?
But let that go.
_Queen._ (R.C.) More matter, with less art.
_Pol._ Madam, I swear I use no art at all.
That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity;
And pity 'tis, 'tis true: a foolish figure;
But farewell it, for I will use no art.
Mad let us grant him, then: and now remains
That we find out the cause of this effect,
Or, rather say, the cause of this defect,
For this effect defective comes by cause:
Thus it remains, and the remainder thus,
Perpend.[11]
I have a daughter, have, while she is mine,
Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,
Hath given me this: Now gather, and surmise.
[Reads] _To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified
Ophelia,--_[12]
That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase, _beautified_ is a vile phrase:
but you shall hear. Thus:
_In her excellent white bosom,[13] these_, &c.[14]
_Queen._ Came this from Hamlet to her?
_Pol._ Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.--
[_Reads._]
_Doubt thou the stars are fire;_
_Doubt thou the sun doth move;_
_Doubt truth to be a liar;_
_But never doubt, I love._
_O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers;[15] I have not art to
reckon my groans: but that I love thee best, O most best,[16]
believe it. Adieu._
_Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him_,[17]
Hamlet.
This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me:
And more above,[18] hath his solicitings,[19]
As they fell out by time, by means, and place,
All given to my ear.
_King._ But how hath she
Receiv'd his love?
_Pol._ What do you think of me?
_King._ As of a man faithful and honourable.
_Pol._ I would fain prove so. But what might you think,
When I had seen this hot love on the wing
(As I perceived it, I must tell you that,
Before my daughter told me), what might you,
Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,
If I had play'd the desk or table book;[20]
Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb;[21]
Or look'd upon this love with idle sight;[22]
What might you think? No, I went round to work,[23]
And my young mistress thus did I bespeak:
_Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy sphere;
This must not be:_ and then I precepts gave her,
That she should lock herself from his resort,
Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
Which done, she took the fruits of my advice;[24]
And he, repuls'd (a short tale to make),
Fell into sadness; thence into a weakness;
Thence to a lightness; and, by this declension,
Into the madness wherein now he raves,
And all we mourn for.
_King._ Do you think 'tis this?
_Queen._ It may be, very likely.
_Pol._ Hath there been such a time (I'd fain know that,)
That I have positively said, _'tis so_,
When it proved otherwise?
_King._ Not that I know.
_Pol._ Take this from this, if it be otherwise:
[_Pointing to his head and shoulder._]
If circumstances lead me, I will find
Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed
Within the centre.
_King._ How may we try it further?
_Pol._ You know, sometimes he walks for hours together
Here in the lobby.
_Queen._ So he does, indeed.
_Pol._ At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him:
Mark the encounter: if he love her not,
And be not from his reason fallen thereon,
Let me be no assistant for a state,
But keep a farm, and carters.
_King._ We will try it.
_Queen._ But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.
_Pol._ Away, I do beseech you both, away:
I'll board him presently.[25]
[_Exeunt_ KING _and_ QUEEN, R.H.]
_Enter_ HAMLET, _reading_ (L.C.)
_Pol._ How does my good lord Hamlet?
_Ham._ (C.) Excellent well.
_Pol._ (R.) Do you know me, my lord?
_Ham._ Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.[26]
_Pol._ Not I, my lord.
_Ham._ Then I would you were so honest a man.
_Pol._ Honest, my lord!
_Ham._ Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man
picked out of ten thousand.
_Pol._ That's very true, my lord.
_Ham._ For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god,
kissing carrion,----Have you a daughter?[27]
_Pol._ I have, my lord.
_Ham._ Let her not walk i'the sun: conception is a blessing; but as
your daughter may conceive,--friend, look to't, look to't, look to't.
[_Goes up stage._]
_Pol._ (_Aside._) Still harping on my daughter:--yet he knew me not
at first; he said I was a fishmonger.
[_Crosses to_ L.]
I'll speak to him again.--What do you read, my lord?
_Ham._ (C.) Words, words, words.
_Pol._ (L.) What is the matter, my lord?
_Ham._ Between who?
_Pol._ I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.
_Ham._ Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue[28] says here that old
men have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes
purging thick amber and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful
lack of wit, together with most weak hams: All of which, sir, though
I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to
have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, shall be as old as I am,
if, like a crab, you could go backward.
[_Crosses_, L.]
_Pol._ (_Aside._) Though this be madness, yet there's method in it.
Will you walk out of the air, my lord?
_Ham._ Into my grave?
[_Crosses_ R.]
_Pol._ (L.) Indeed, that is out o' the air.--How pregnant sometimes
his replies[29] are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which
reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will
leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and
my daughter.--My honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of
you.
_Ham._ (C.) You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more
willingly part withall, except my life, except my life, except my
life.
_Pol._ Fare you well, my lord.
[_Exit_ POLONIUS, L.H.]
_Ham._ These tedious old fools!
_Pol._ (_Without._) You go to seek the lord Hamlet; there he is.
_Ros._ Heaven save you, sir!
_Enter_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN (L.H.)
_Guil._ My honor'd lord!--
_Ros._ My most dear lord!--
_Ham._ My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern?
[_Crosses to_ ROSENCRANTZ.]
Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both? What news?
_Ros._ (L.) None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.
_Ham._ (C.) Then is dooms-day near: but your news is not true. In the
beaten way of friendship,[30] what make you at Elsinore?
_Ros._ To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.
_Ham._ Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you.
Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free
visitation? Come, come, deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak.
_Guil._ (R.) What should we say, my lord?
_Ham._ Any thing--but to the purpose. You were sent for; and there is
a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not
craft enough to colour: I know the good king and queen have sent for
you.
_Ros._ To what end, my lord?
_Ham._ That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by the rights
of our fellowship, [_taking their hands_,] by the consonancy of our
youth,[31] by the obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what
more dear a better proposer[32] could charge you withal, be even[33]
and direct with me, whether you were sent for, or no?
_Ros._ What say you?
[_To_ GUILDENSTERN.]
_Ham._ Nay, then, I have an eye of you.[34]
[_Crosses_ R.]
[_Aside._]
--if you love me, hold not off.
_Guil._ My lord, we were sent for.
_Ham._ (_Returning_ C.) I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation
prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult
no feather.[35] I have of late (but wherefore I know not) lost all my
mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and, indeed, it goes so
heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems
to me a steril promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look
you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted
with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul
and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man!
How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and moving
how express[36] and admirable! in action how like an angel! in
apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon[37]
of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man
delights not me,--nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem
to say so.
_Ros._ My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
_Ham._ Why did you laugh, then, when I said, _Man delights not me?_
_Ros._ To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what lenten
entertainment[38] the players shall receive from you: we coted them
on the way;[39] and hither are they coming, to offer you service.
_Ham._ He that plays the king shall be welcome, his majesty shall
have tribute of me; the adventurous knight shall use his foil and
target; the lover shall not sigh gratis; the humorous man shall end
his part in peace;[40] and the lady shall say her mind freely, or the
blank verse shall halt for't.[41]--What players are they?
_Ros._ Even those you were wont to take such delight in, the
tragedians of the city.
_Ham._ How chances it, they travel?[42] their residence, both in
reputation and profit, was better both ways. Do they hold the same
estimation they did when I was in the city? Are they so followed?
_Ros._ No, indeed, they are not.
_Ham._ It is not very strange; for my uncle is king of Denmark,[43]
and those that would make mouths at him[44] while my father lived,
give twenty, forty, fifty, an hundred ducats a-piece for his picture
in little.[45] There is something in this more than natural, if
philosophy could find it out.
[_Flourish of trumpets without._]
_Guil._ There are the players.
_Ham._ Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands. You are
welcome: but my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
_Guil._ In what, my dear lord?
_Ham._ I am but mad north-north west: when the wind is southerly I
know a hawk from a hern-shaw.[46]
[_Crosses_ R.]
_Pol._ (_Without_, L.H.) Well be with you, gentlemen!
_Ham._ (_Crosses_ C.) Hark you, Guildenstern;--and Rosencrantz: that
great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling-clouts.
_Ros._ (R.) Haply he's the second time come to them; for they say an
old man is twice a child.
_Ham._ I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; mark
it.--You say right, sir: o'Monday morning; 'twas then, indeed.
_Enter_ POLONIUS (L.H.)
_Pol._ My lord, I have news to tell you.
_Ham._ My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in
Rome,----
_Pol._ The actors are come hither, my lord.
_Ham._ Buz, buz![47]
_Pol._ Upon my honour,----
_Ham._ Then came each actor on his ass.[48]
_Pol._ The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy,
history, pastoral, pastorical-comical, historical-pastoral, scene
indivisible, or poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor
Plautus too light.[49] For the law of writ and the liberty, these are
the only men.[50]
_Ham._ _O, Jephthah, judge of Israel_,--what a treasure hadst thou!
_Pol._ What a treasure had he, my lord?
_Ham._ Why,--_One fair daughter, and no more,
The which he loved passing well._
_Pol._ Still harping on my daughter.
[_Aside._]
_Ham._ Am I not i'the right, old Jephthah?
_Pol._ If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I
love passing well.
_Ham._ Nay, that follows not.
_Pol._ What follows, then, my lord?
_Ham._ Why, _As by lot, God wot_,[51] and then, you know, _It came to
pass, As most like it was_,--The first row of the pious Chanson[52]
will show you more; for look, my abridgment comes.[53]
_Enter Four or Five_ Players (L.H.)--POLONIUS _crosses behind_
HAMLET _to_ R.H.
You are welcome, masters; welcome, all: O, old friend! Why, thy face
is valanced[54] since I saw thee last; Com'st thou to beard me[55] in
Denmark?--What, my young lady and mistress. By-'r-lady, your ladyship
is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the altitude of a
chopine.[56] You are welcome. We'll e'en to't like French
falconers,[57] fly at anything we see: We'll have a speech straight:
Come, give us a taste of your quality;[58] come, a passionate speech.
_1st Play._ (L.H.) What speech, my lord?
_Ham._ I heard thee speak me a speech once,--but it was never acted;
or, if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleased not
the million; 'twas caviare to the general:[59] but it was an
excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much
modesty as cunning.[60] One speech in it I chiefly loved; 'twas
Г†neas' tale to Dido; and thereabout of it especially, where he speaks
of Priam's slaughter: If it live in your memory, begin at this line;
let me see, let me see;--
_The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast_,--'tis not so: it
begins with Pyrrhus:
_The rugged Pyrrhus,--he, whose sable arms_,
_Black as his purpose, did the night resemble_,
_Old grandsire Priam seeks._
_Pol._ (R.) 'Fore Heaven, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and
good discretion.
_Ham._ (C.) So proceed you.
_1st Play._ (L.) _Anon he finds him
Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword,
Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
Repugnant to command: Unequal match'd,
Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide;
But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword[61]
The unnerved father falls.
But, as we often see, against some storm,
A silence in the heavens, the rack[62] stand still,
The bold wind speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death; anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region; So, after Pyrrhus' pause,
A roused vengeance sets him new a work;
And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
On Mars's armour, forg'd for proof eterne,
With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword
Now falls on Priam.--
Out, out, thou fickle Fortune!_
_Pol._ (R.) This is too long.
_Ham._ It shall to the barber's, with your beard.--Say on;--come to
Hecuba.
_1st Play._ _But who, ah woe, had seen the mobled queen_--
_Ham._ The mobled queen?[63]
_Pol._ That's good; mobled queen is good.
_1st Play._ _Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames;
A clout upon that head
Where late the diadem stood; and, for a robe,
A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd,
'Gainst fortune's state would treason have pronounced._
_Pol._ Look, whether he has not turned his colour, and has tears in's
eyes.--Prithee, no more.
_Ham._ (C.) 'Tis well; I'll have thee speak out the rest of this
soon.--Good, my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you
hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstract and brief
chronicles of the time: After your death you were better have a bad
epitaph than their ill report while you live.
_Pol._ (R.) My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
_Ham._ Much better: Use every man after his desert, and who shall
'scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity: The less
they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
[_Crosses to_ R.H.]
_Pol._ Come, sirs.
_Ham._ Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow.
[_Exit_ POLONIUS _with some of the_ Players, L.H.]
Old friend
[_Crosses to_ C.]
--My good friends
[_To_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN.]
I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore--can you play
the murder of Gonzago?
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN, R.H.]
_1st Play._ Ay, my lord.
_Ham._ We'll have it to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a
speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would insert
in't--could you not?
_1st Play._ Ay, my lord.
_Ham._ Very well.--Follow that lord; and look you mock him not.
[_Exit_ Player, L.H.]
Now I am alone.
O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous, that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit,
That, from her working, all his visage wann'd;[64]
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit?[65] And all for nothing!
For Hecuba?
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do,
Had he the motive and the cue[66] for passion
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears,
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech;
Make mad the guilty, and appal the free;
Confound the ignorant, and amaze, indeed,
The very faculties of eyes and ears.
Yet I,
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,
Like John a-dreams,[67] unpregnant of my cause,[68]
And can say nothing; no, not for a king,
Upon whose property and most dear life
A damn'd defeat was made.[69] Am I a coward?
Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?
Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i'the throat,
As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this,
Ha?
Why, I should take it: for it cannot be
But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall
To make oppression bitter;[70] or, ere this,
I should have fatted all the region kites
With this slave's offal: Bloody, bawdy villain!
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless[71] villain!
O, vengeance!
Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,
That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,
Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,
Must, like a scold, unpack my heart with words,
And fall a cursing, like a very drab,
A scullion!
Fye upon't! fye! About, my brains![72] I have heard
That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,
Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been struck so to the soul, that presently
They have proclaim'd their malefactions;
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players
Play something like the murder of my father
Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;
I'll tent him to the quick:[73] if he do blench,[74]
I know my course. The spirit that I have seen
May be the devil: and the devil hath power
To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and, perhaps
Out of my weakness and my melancholy
(As he is very potent with such spirits),
Abuses me to damn me: I'll have good grounds
More relative than this:[75] The play's the thing
Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
[_Exit_, R.H.]
END OF ACT SECOND.
Notes
Act II
[Footnote II.1: _Polonius_,] Doctor Johnson describes Polonius as
"a man bred in courts, exercised in business, stored with
observation, confident in his knowledge, proud of his eloquence,
and declining into dotage. A man positive and confident, because
he knows his mind was once strong, and knows not that it is
become weak." The idea of dotage encroaching upon wisdom will
solve all the phenomena of the character of Polonius.]
[Footnote II.2: _His bulk_,] Frame.]
[Footnote II.3: _Ecstacy of love_;] _i.e._, madness of love. In
this sense the word is now obsolete.]
[Footnote II.4:
_This must be known; which being kept close, might move
More grief to hide than hate to utter love._]
_i.e._, this must be made known to the king, for (being kept
secret) the hiding Hamlet's love might occasion more mischief to
us from him and the queen, than the uttering or revealing of it
will occasion hate and resentment from Hamlet.
It was the custom of Shakespeare's age, to conclude acts and
scenes with a couplet, a custom which was continued for nearly a
century afterwards.]
[Footnote II.5: _The understanding of himself_,] _i.e._, the just
estimate of himself.]
[Footnote II.6: _Vouchsafe your rest_] Please to reside.]
[Footnote II.7: _Of us_,] _i.e._, over us.]
[Footnote II.8: _In the full bent_,] To the full stretch and
range--a term derived from archery.]
[Footnote II.9: _The trail of policy_] The _trail_ is the
_course_ of an animal pursued by the scent.]
[Footnote II.10: _Expostulate_] To _expostulate_ is to discuss,
to put the pros and cons, to answer demands upon the question.
_Expose_ is an old term of similar import.]
[Footnote II.11: _Perpend._] _i.e._, reflect, consider
attentively.]
[Footnote II.12: _Most beautified Ophelia_,] Heywood, in his
History of Edward VI., says "Katharine Parre, Queen Dowager to
King Henry VIII., was a woman _beautified_ with many excellent
virtues." The same expression is frequently used by other old
authors.]
[Footnote II.13: _In her excellent white bosom_,] The ladies, in
Shakespeare's time, wore pockets in the front of their stays.]
[Footnote II.14: _These, &c._] In our poet's time, the word
_these_ was usually added at the end of the superscription of
letters.]
[Footnote II.15: _I am ill at these numbers_;] No talent for
these rhymes.]
[Footnote II.16: _O most best_,] An ancient mode of expression.]
[Footnote II.17: _Whilst this machine is to him_,] Belongs to,
obey his impulse; so long as he is "a sensible warm motion," the
similar expression to "While my wits are my own."]
[Footnote II.18: _And more above_,] _i.e._, moreover, besides.]
[Footnote II.19: _His solicitings_,] _i.e._, his love-making, his
tender expressions.]
[Footnote II.20: _If I had played the desk, or table book_;] This
line may either mean _if I had conveyed intelligence between
them_, or, _known of their love, if I had locked up his secret in
my own breast, as closely as it were confined in a desk or table
book._]
[Footnote II.21: _Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb_;]
_i.e._, connived at it.]
[Footnote II.22: _With idle sight_;] _i.e._, with indifference.]
[Footnote II.23: _Round to work_,] _i.e._, roundly, without
reserve.]
[Footnote II.24: _Which done, she took the fruits of my advice_;]
She took the _fruits_ of advice when she obeyed advice, the
advice was then made _fruitful._--JOHNSON.]
[Footnote II.25: _I'll board him presently._] Accost, address
him.]
[Footnote II.26: _You are a fishmonger._] This was an expression
better understood in Shakespeare's time than at present, and no
doubt was relished by the audience of the Globe Theatre as
applicable to the Papists, who in Queen Elizabeth's time were
esteemed enemies to the Government. Hence the proverbial phrase
of _He's an honest man and eats no fish_; to signify he's a
friend to the Government and a Protestant.]
[Footnote II.27: _For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog,
being a god, kissing carrion,----Have you a daughter?_] _i.e._,
Hamlet having just remarked that honesty is very rare in the
world, adds, that since there is so little virtue, since
corruption abounds everywhere, and maggots are _bred_ by the sun,
which is a god, even in a dead dog, Polonius ought to take care
to prevent his daughter from walking in the sun, lest she should
prove _"a breeder of sinners;"_ for though _conception_
(understanding) in general be a blessing, yet as Ophelia might
chance to _conceive_ (to be pregnant), it might be a calamity.
Hamlet's abrupt question, _"Have you a daughter?"_ is evidently
intended to impress Polonius with the belief of the Prince's
madness.--MALONE.]
[Footnote II.28: _The satirical rogue_] Hamlet alludes to
Juvenal, who in his 10th Satire, describes the evils of long
life.]
[Footnote II.29: _How pregnant his replies_] Big with meaning.]
[Footnote II.30: _Beaten way of friendship_,] Plain track, open
and unceremonious course.]
[Footnote II.31: _Rights of our fellowship and constancy of our
youth_,] Habits of familiar intercourse and correspondent years.]
[Footnote II.32: _A better proposer_] An advocate of more address
in shaping his aims, who could make a stronger appeal.]
[Footnote II.33: _Even_] Without inclination any way.]
[Footnote II.34: _Nay, then, I have an eye of you._] _i.e._, I
have a glimpse of your meaning. Hamlet's penetration having shown
him that his two friends are set over him as spies.]
[Footnote II.35: _So shall my anticipation prevent your
discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult no
feather._] Be beforehand with your discovery, and the plume and
gloss of your secret pledge be in no feather shed or tarnished.]
[Footnote II.36: _Express_] According to pattern, justly and
perfectly modelled.]
[Footnote II.37: _Paragon_] Model of perfection.]
[Footnote II.38: _Lenten entertainment_] _i.e._, sparing, like
the entertainments given in Lent.]
[Footnote II.39: _We coted them on the way_;] To cote, is to pass
by, to pass the side of another. It appears to be a word of
French origin, and was a common sporting term in Shakespeare's
time.]
[Footnote II.40: _The humorous man shall end his part in peace_;]
The fretful or capricious man shall vent the whole of his spleen
undisturbed.]
[Footnote II.41: _The lady shall say her mind freely, or the
blank verse shall halt for't._] _i.e._, the lady shall mar the
measure of the verse, rather than not express herself freely and
fully.]
[Footnote II.42: _Travel?_] Become strollers.]
[Footnote II.43: _It is not very strange; for my uncle is king of
Denmark_;] This is a reflection on the mutability of fortune, and
the variableness of man's mind.]
[Footnote II.44: _Make mouths at him_] _i.e._, deride him by
antic gestures and mockery.]
[Footnote II.45: _In little._] In miniature.]
[Footnote II.46: _I know a hawk from a hern-shaw._] A hernshaw is
a heron or hern. _To know a hawk from a hernshaw_ is an ancient
proverb, sometimes corrupted into _handsaw_. Spencer quotes the
proverb, as meaning, _wise enough to know the hawk from its
game._]
[Footnote II.47: _Buz, buz!_] Sir William Blackstone states that
_buz_ used to be an interjection at Oxford when any one began a
story that was generally known before.]
[Footnote II.48: _Then came each actor on his ass._] This seems
to be a line of a ballad.]
[Footnote II.49: _Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too
light._] An English translation of the tragedies of Seneca was
published in 1581, and one comedy of Plautus, viz., the
Menoechme, in 1595.]
[Footnote II.50: _For the law of writ and the liberty, these are
the only men._] The probable meaning of this passage is,--_For
the observance of the rules of the Drama, while they take such
liberties, as are allowable, they are the only men_--_writ_ is an
old word for _writing_.]
[Footnote II.51: _As by lot, God wot_,] There was an old ballad
entitled the song of Jephthah, from which these lines are
probably quotations. The story of Jephthah was also one of the
favourite subjects of ancient tapestry.]
[Footnote II.52: _The first row of the pious Chanson_] This
expression does not appear to be very well understood. Steevens
tells us that the _pious chansons_ were a kind of _Christmas
carols_, containing some scriptural history thrown into loose
rhymes, and sung about the streets. The _first row_ appears to
mean the _first division_ of one of these.]
[Footnote II.53: _My abridgment comes._] Hamlet alludes to the
players, whose approach will shorten his talk.]
[Footnote II.54: _Thy face is valanced_] _i.e._, fringed with a
beard. The valance is the fringes or drapery hanging round the
tester of a bed.]
[Footnote II.55: _Com'st thou to beard me_] To _beard_ anciently
meant to set _at defiance_. Hamlet having just told the player
that his face is valanced, is playing upon the word _beard_.]
[Footnote II.56: _By the altitude of a chopine._] A chioppine is
a high shoe, or rather clog, worn by the Italians. Venice was
more famous for them than any other place. They are described as
having been made of wood covered with coloured leather, and
sometimes _even half a yard high_, their altitude being
proportioned to the rank of the lady, so that they could not walk
without being supported.]
[Footnote II.57: _Like French falconers_,] The French seem to
have been the first and noblest falconers in the western part of
Europe. The French king sent over his falconers to show that
sport to King James the First.--_See Weldon's Court of King
James._]
[Footnote II.58: _Quality_;] Qualifications, faculty.]
[Footnote II.59: _Caviare to the general_;] Caviare is the spawn
of fish pickled, salted, and dried. It is imported from Russia,
and was considered in the time of Shakespeare a new and
fashionable luxury, not obtained or relished by the vulgar, and
therefore used by him to signify anything above their
comprehension--general is here used for the people.]
[Footnote II.60: _As much modesty as cunning._] As much propriety
and decorum as skill.]
[Footnote II.61: _Falls with the whiff and wind of his fell
sword_] Our author employs the same image in almost the same
phrase:
"The Grecians _fall
Even in the fan and wind of your fair sword._"
_Tr. & Cress. V. 3. Tr._]
[Footnote II.62: _The rack_] The clouds or congregated vapour.]
[Footnote II.63: _The mobled queen?_] Mobled is veiled, muffled,
disguised.]
[Footnote II.64: _All his visage wann'd_;] _i.e._, turned pale or
wan.]
[Footnote II.65: _His whole functions suiting with forms to his
conceit?_] _i.e._, his powers and faculties--the whole energies
of his soul and body giving material forms to his passion, such
as tone of voice, expression of face, requisite action, in
accordance with the ideas that floated in his conceit or
imagination.]
[Footnote II.66: _The cue_] The point--the direction.]
[Footnote II.67: _Like John a-dreams_,] Or dreaming John, a name
apparently coined to suit a dreaming, stupid person; he seems to
have been a well-known character.]
[Footnote II.68: _Unpregnant of my cause_,] _i.e._, not quickened
with a new desire of vengeance; not teeming with revenge.]
[Footnote II.69: _Defeat was made._] Overthrow.]
[Footnote II.70: _Lack gall to make oppression bitter_;] _i.e._,
lack gall to make me feel the bitterness of oppression.]
[Footnote II.71: _Kindless_] Unnatural.]
[Footnote II.72: _About, my brains!_] Wits to work.]
[Footnote II.73: _I'll tent him to the quick:_] _i.e._, probe
him--search his wounds.]
[Footnote II.74: _Blench_,] Shrink, start aside.]
[Footnote II.75: _More relative than this:_] Directly
applicable.]
ACT III.
SCENE I.--A ROOM IN THE CASTLE.
_Three chairs on_ L.H., _one on_ R.
_Enter_ KING _and_ QUEEN, _preceded by_ POLONIUS. OPHELIA,
ROSENCRANTZ, _and_ GIULDENSTERN, _following_ (R.H.)
_King._ (C.) And can you, by no drift of conference,
Get from him why he puts on this confusion?
_Ros._ (R.) He does confess he feels himself distracted;
But from what cause he will by no means speak.
_Guild._ (R.) Nor do we find him forward[1] to be sounded
But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,
When we would bring him on to some confession
Of his true state.
_Queen._ (R.C.) Did you assay him[2]
To any pastime?
_Ros._ Madam, it so fell out, that certain players
We o'er-raught on the way:[3] of these we told him;
And there did seem in him a kind of joy
To hear of it: They are about 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 inclin'd.
Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,
And drive his purpose on to these delights.
_Ros._ We shall, my lord.
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN, R.H.]
_King._ Sweet Gertrude, leave us too;
For we have closely sent[4] for Hamlet hither,
That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
Affront Ophelia:[5]
Her father and myself (lawful espials[6]),
Will so bestow ourselves, that, seeing, unseen,
We may of their encounter frankly judge;
And gather by him, as he is behaved,
If't be the affliction of his love or no
That thus he suffers for.
_Queen._ (R.) I shall obey you:
And for your part, Ophelia,
[OPHELIA _comes down_ L.H.]
I do wish
That your good beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues
Will bring him to his wonted way again,
To both your honours.
_Oph._ Madam, I wish it may.
[_Exit_ QUEEN, R.H.]
_Pol._ Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you,
We will bestow ourselves. Read on this book;
[_To_ OPHELIA.]
That show of such an exercise may colour
Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,--
'Tis too much prov'd,[7] that, with devotion's visage
And pious action, we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.
_King._ O, 'tis too true! how smart
A lash that speech doth give my conscience!
[_Aside._]
_Pol._ I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord.
[_Exeunt_ KING _and_ POLONIUS, R.H.2 E., _and_
OPHELIA, R.H.U.E.]
_Enter_ HAMLET (L.H.)
_Ham._ To be, or not to be, that is the question:[8]
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,[9]
And, by opposing end them?--To die,--to sleep,
No more;--and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To 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 shuffled off this mortal coil,[10]
Must give us pause:[11] There's the respect[12]
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,[13]
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,[14]
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make[15]
With a bare bodkin?[16] Who would fardels bear,[17]
To groan and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn[18]
No traveller returns,[19] puzzles 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;[20]
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,[21]
With this regard, their currents turn away,
And lose the name of action.[22]--
[OPHELIA _returns._]
--Soft you now![23]
The fair Ophelia:--Nymph, in thy orisons[24]
Be all my sins remember'd.
_Oph._ (R.C.) Good my lord,
How does your honour for this many a day?
_Ham._ (L.C.) I humbly thank you; well.
_Oph._ My lord, I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longГЁd long to re-deliver;
I pray you, now receive them.
_Ham._ No, not I;
I never gave you aught.
_Oph._ My honour'd lord, you know right well you did;
And, with them, words of so sweet breath compos'd
As made the 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?
_Oph._ My lord?
_Ham._ Are you fair?
_Oph._ What means your lordship?
_Ham._ That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no
discourse to your beauty.[25]
_Oph._ Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with 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 his likeness:[26] this was some time 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 our old stock, but we shall relish of it:[27] I loved you
not.
_Oph._ I was the more deceived.
_Ham._ Get thee to 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[28]
than I have thoughts to put them in,[29] 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, all;
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
nowhere but in's own house. Farewell.
_Oph._ O, help him, you sweet heavens!
_Ham._ If thou dost 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; 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; go; go.
_Oph._ Heavenly powers, restore him!
_Ham._ I have heard of your paintings[30] too, well enough; Heaven
hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another:[31] you
jig, you amble, and you lisp,[32] and nickname Heaven's creatures,
and make your wantonness your ignorance.[33] Go to, I'll no more
of't; it hath made me mad.
[HAMLET _crosses to_ R.H.]
I say, we will have no more marriages: those that are married
already, all but one,[34] shall live; the rest shall keep as they
are. To a nunnery, go.
[_Exit_ HAMLET, R.H.[35]]
_Oph._ (L.) O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
The expectancy and rose of the fair state,[36]
The glass of fashion[37] and the mould of form,[38]
The observ'd of all observers, quite, quite down!
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That suck'd the honey of his musick vows,[39]
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh:
O, woe is me,
To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
[_Exit_ OPHELIA, L.H.]
_Re-enter_ KING _and_ POLONIUS.
_King._ Love! his affections do not that way tend;
Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,
Was not like madness. There's something in his soul,
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;
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 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 origin and commencement of his grief
Sprung from neglected love. 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: let her be round with him;[40]
And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear
Of all their conference. If she find him not,[41]
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 go.
[_Exeunt_, L.H.]
_Enter_ HAMLET _and a_ Player (R.H.)
_Ham._ (C.) Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you,
trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, as many of our players
do, I had as lief[42] the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw
the air too much with your hands thus;[43] 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
perrywig-pated fellow[44] tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to
split the ears of the groundlings,[45] who, for the most part, are
capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and noise: I would
have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant;[46] it
out-herods Herod:[47] Pray you, avoid it.
_1st Play._ (R.) I warrant your honour.
_Ham._ Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your
tutor; suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this
special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature: for
any thing so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both
at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up
to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and
the very age and body of the time its form and pressure.[48] Now,
this overdone, or come tardy off,[49] though it make the unskilful
laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure of which
one[50] must, in your allowance,[51] o'erweigh 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,[52] that, neither
having the accent of christians, nor the gait of christian, pagan,
nor man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of
nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they
imitated humanity so abominably.
[_Crosses to_ R.]
_1st Play._ (L.) I hope we have reformed that indifferently[53] with
us.
