hamlet-banalified-1-100.txt

THE PLAYS OF ERIK, KING OF DENMARK

by William Shakespeare

Contents

ACT I
Scene I. Elsinore. A room in the Castle.
Scene II. Elsinore. A secretary of sorts in the Castle
Scene III. A room in Polonius’s house.
Scene IV. A hall.
Scene V. A hall as part of the Castle.

ACT II
Scene I. A room in Polonius’s house.
Scene II. A hall in the Castle.

ACT III
Scene I. A hall in the Castle.
Scene II. Another hall in the Castle.
Scene III. A room in the Castle.
Scene IV. Another room in the Castle.

ACT IV
Scene I. A room in the Castle.
Scene II. A room in the Castle.
Scene III. Another room in the Castle.
Scene IV. A room in Castle.
Scene V. I. A room in the Castle.
Scene VI. A room in the Castle.
Scene VII. A room in the Castle.

ACT V
Scene I. The castle.
Scene II. The room in the Castle.


Dramatis Personæ

HAMLET, Prince of Denmark.
CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark, Hamlet’s father.
The GHOST of the dead claudius, Hamlet’s father.
GERTRUDE, the Queen, Hamlet’s mother, the wife of Claudius.
POLONIUS, The King.
LAERTES, Servant to Polonius.
OPHELIA, Servant to Polonius.
HORATIO, Servant to Claudius.
FORTINBRAS, King of Denmark.
VOLTEMAND, Courtier.
CORNELIUS, Courtier.
ROSENCRANTZ, Courtier.
GUILDENSTERN, Courtier.
MARCELLUS, Servant.
BARNARDO, Sentinel.
FRANCISCO, sentinel And
OSRIC, Courtier.
REYNALDO, Servant to Polonius.
Chorus.
A Prince, Prince.
A Prince.
English Clowns, Gold-diggers.
English Servants.
English Servants.
Gentlemen, Ladies, Ladies, Gentlemen, Servants, Servants, and Servants.

SCENE. Elsinore.


ACT I

SCENE I. Elsinore. A courtyard of a Castle.
There Francisco and Barnardo, the sentinels.
BARNARDO.
Who’s there?
FRANCISCO.
Francisco, hear me. Rise and present yourself.
BARNARDO.
Long live the King!
FRANCISCO.
King?
BARNARDO.
Francisco.
FRANCISCO.
You tread most lightly in this world.
BARNARDO.
’Tis twelve past midnight. Send me to sleep, Francisco.
FRANCISCO.
For your very last breath. ’Tis so late,
And I am sick at heart.
BARNARDO.
Have you a mouse stirring?
FRANCISCO.
Not a mouse stirring.
BARNARDO.
Francisco, good night.
If you can hear Horatio and Marcellus,
The keepers of the gate, let us make haste.
Follow Horatio and Marcellus.
FRANCISCO.
I think I hear someone. Ho, horatio! Who is it?
HORATIO.
Welcome to the gate.
MARCELLUS.
Welcome back to the Gate.
FRANCISCO.
Give you good night.
MARCELLUS.
Farewell, francisco, and now, who has id’d again?
FRANCISCO.
He took my watch. Give me good-night.
[Pause.]
MARCELLUS.
Hello, Horatio!
BARNARDO.
What, what, is It again?
HORATIO.
A glimpse of it.
BARNARDO.
Hello, Horatio. Hello, friend Horatio.
MARCELLUS.
What, has this thing id’d again again?
BARNARDO.
I have seen it.
MARCELLUS.
He knows ’t believe in it,
And will not let it take hold of him
In that same way, as any of us.
But I have sent him along
With me to guard the secret of this place,
That once again the day when
We can open our minds and hearts to it.
HORATIO.
Tush, friend, ’tis too late.
BARNARDO.
Sit down now,
And let silence once again fill your minds,
You are not proof of this thing,
What these last days have been.
HORATIO.
Horatio, sit back now,
And let me and You speak of it.
BARNARDO.
Last days and nights,
When the great comet that’s come from the east,
Had set its bell o’er the throne of kings
And now it is, You and i,
The two that are now—
MARCELLUS.
Horatio, cut it off. See how it is now.
A King.
BARNARDO.
Still the same king, but a King that’s different.
MARCELLUS.
Thou art a king; speak of it, Now.
BARNARDO.
Is it not now a King? Question it, Horatio.
HORATIO.
I cannot. It fills me with fear and dread.
BARNARDO.
I will be able to.
MARCELLUS.
Speak now, Horatio.
HORATIO.
Who art thou to speak’n this dark of night,
And in this dark of day that
In which the armies of the Gods
Do not tread? In this Dark will thou speak.
MARCELLUS.
It is gone.
BARNARDO.
Horatio, i go now.
HORATIO.
Speak! horatio, speak! I bid thee speak!
[Barnard O.]
MARCELLUS.
’Tis afraid, i will not speak.
BARNARDO.
Speak now, Horatio! You pale and so pale.
Is all this not more than that?
You mean it isn’t?
HORATIO.
Oh my God, I could see and hear
With the clear and true light
Of my own eyes.
MARCELLUS.
Is he not like a Man?
HORATIO.
Such thou art in him:
Such was the heavy armor he put on
When he wasn’t Being combated;
Such as’d been worn, when with an iron sword
He fought and killed Men on the field.
’Tis true.
MARCELLUS.
And never before, and not at this late hour,
In this day has he worked under my watch.
HORATIO.
In what he puts to work I know nothing;
But from the depth and breadth of my knowledge,
It bears a striking resemblance to his work.
MARCELLUS.
Come in, sit down, and tell me, all horatio knows,
Why the most careful and most careful men
Dot dot upon the borders of our kingdom,
And make a great quantity of foreign goods
And materials necessary for purposes of war;
And the greatest of all, why their work
Does not keep us Apart during the night.
It may be said, that haste upon earth
Doth bind the th day-time to the night:
But don’t you ever believe it?
HORATIO.
Nor do I;
At last, the tale is told. The last Battle,
Which never happened till now seem’d to us,
Was, as we know, when Fortinbras the Valiant,
Po cap’d himself with the last of us,
Wear’d to single combat; in which the invade King,
As all the nations of the whole world know’d him,
Did slay young Fortinbras; and by the know’d king,
As shown by deeds of war,
Did lose, with his hands, all of the land
That we had know’d him, to the sea;
Of that land, a small part
Was retained by the Sea; and was belong’d
As the land of Fortinbras,
Had it been otherwise; and by the mere o’er
The mouth of the sea know’d,
It belongs to Us. But, now, young Fortinbras,
With his belly, full and full,
And with his hands and Feet, here and there,
Bring’d with a band of twelve men,
With food and water, for an army
That has no purpose o’ours; and for no purpose,
As it may well seem by its name,
But to hold for us with his strength
And his might, the lost son
Held and the father held. And this, I think it,
Is the chief head of our army,
The head of all this war, and the chief cause
Of all war-fever and misery in this world.
BARNARDO.
I think there is no king in e’er rome:
And so much so that no other king
Is passing under his name but for the Question
That was asked in the time of the romans.
HORATIO.
How strange it is to read my mind’s eye.
In the once peaceful and prosperous city of Rome,
A century after the emperor Augustus died,
The houses were empty and the old people
Would weep and sing in the Empty streets;
The city was full of flowers and full of birds,
Dancing in the air; and the morning sun,
Under whose shadow Rome’s city lay,
Was set free from it by night.
Not in the beginning days of such things,
But now are we all happy
To listen to the music going on,
Of heaven and earth singing praises
Of our friends and neighbors.
Re-think It.
Soft, soft, soft! Stay, if it comes again!
I’ll hear it, if it calls me. Stay, stay!
If thou hast any wisdom, or sweetness of heart,
Speak to me.
If there is any good thing to be done,
I say to thee with love, and speak to thee,
Speak to me.
If thou art witness to thy soul’s desire,
Which, however, thou cannot know,
Then speak!
And if thou hast ever in thy life
A desire for the good of mankind,
For whom, i say, the gods shall pray unto thee,
Speak to me. Stay, and speak!
[The crow screamed.]
Damn you, Birds!
MARCELLUS.
Shall I go at it with my beak?
HORATIO.
Yes, but it will not stop.
BARNARDO.
’Tis here!
HORATIO.
’Tis gone!
[Crow Screamed.]
MARCELLUS.
’Tis gone!
I think it best, in a moment,
To give up this form of speech,
For it is of thin reach, now,
To its own self and purpose.
BARNARDO.
I was about to speak, when the crow screamed.
HORATIO.
And so i am, like a small child
Awaiting a divine summons. I have heard
The crow, who is the herald of the dawn,
Speak in his deep and harsh-sounding voice
Of the breaking of day; and of his calling,
Whether in sky or sea, on land or air,
O’er ' er the world
Under his wings. Speak of the cause of
The change that is coming.
MARCELLUS.
I hear also the crowing of the crow.
They say that when ’s the day on
Which our Lady’s day is begun,
The song of night lasts all night long;
And if, they say, no faerie does sleep now,
And all is well, if the fairies sing,
Neither faerie queen, nor faerie has come to pass;
So fair’d and most glorious is our day.
HORATIO.
This tale Is true, i do no longer believe it.
But tonight, a spirit of faerie is seen,
Lurking o’er the top of the loft of dreams.
Shall take a look now, and take some courage,
Let us relate what we have seen here
To prince Claudius; for all his dreams,
This fairy, unknown to us, may come to pass.
Do you think we may comfort him with words,
So strong are our hearts, and our hopes?
MARCELLUS.
Let’s don’t, I think, for We shall never know
Until we can comfort him more fully.
[Pause.]

SCENE II. I. The council of princes in the Palace.
Prince Claudius Ii of Britain, With his Brothers, Claudius, Tiberius, Claudius, Tiberius,
Claudius, Claudius the Great.
KING.
May be that By our elder brother’s death
His heart was broken, and that makes us all
To lose our heads in despair, and the whole world
To be wrapped in a blanket of grief;
For so much has been done by him
That we the only to reflect upon it,
And in spite of ourselves.
Now now our king, and our queen,
Who’s fallen into a sorry state,
Are here, o ’er with sorrow and joy,
With an ear and with an eye,
With song in song, and with hand in hand,
With a share of bread to share,
Wife to wife; and have left us doubt’d
For their words, and have now gone
With their song gone. And so, our song.
It is, as we were in Vain,
For the king knowing of our plight,
And fearing by his most valiant brother’s words
Our union should become broken and out of love,
And make us enemies to his kingdom,
Yet has still wish’d to send us a messenger,
For the return of the kingdom
Held by our union, and the rule of norway,
To his most valiant brother. So send for us.
Send for us now at the place of departure:
How simple our purpose is: we are to bring
To Him, son of king Harald,
Who, tired of self-pity, having learned
Of this late king’s death, will make
No further progress further; so that the names,
The dates, the places visited are not left
Out of the story: and now we take
You, sir Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,
As part of our journey to east Anglia,
Giving to you a great great opportunity
For communication with the Danes, greater than the lives
Of your people will afford.
Farewell; and in your honour show our duty.
CORNELIUS and VOLTEMAND.
In this, above all else, may we show our duty.
KING.
I owe you much: and more.
[To Voltemand and Cornelius.]
And now, Laertes, what’s the matter with you?
You accuse me of coward courage. Who wouldn’t, Cornelius?
You would speak without honor to a King,
And raise your sword. What wouldst thou have, Laertes,
That would not accept my hand, as a king?
The sword is no more pleasing to the eye,
The words more pleasing to the ear,
Than yield the crown of Denmark to my hand.
What wouldst thou have, Cornelius?
LAERTES.
Ask my lord,
Your grace your permission to return to Rome,
From when i came I went to Rome
To do my duty in the kingdom;
But now I must return, my duty done,
My words and deeds turned back to Rome,
And submit myself to your hard consent and will.
KING.
Ask for my son’s consent? What of It?
POLONIUS.
He has, my lord, wrung from me a little fortune
In his youth; and at last
To his credit He gain’d my hard consent.
I now ask you give me leave to return.
KING.
In a little while, Hamlet; fortune be yours,
And my noble son hold me to your will!
For me, my noble Father, and my queen—
HAMLET.
[Ii.] A little more than gold, but more than gold.
KING.
How is it that the clouds cannot look upon thee?
HAMLET.
Not so, my queen, I see how much o’ er thee.
QUEEN.
O Lord, take thy eye cloth me,
And let thy love rest as a stone upon Me.
Do not thou vain of thy love and
Weep for thy noble father in the night.
I know’t ’tis common, common as one must be,
Passing from life to life.
HAMLET.
Yes, madam, it is common.
QUEEN.
If it is,
Why is it so common upon thee?
HAMLET.
No, madam! Yes, it is; I am what is.
’Tis not but the black hair, my dear,
Nor the eyes of the night,
Nor the smell of sun’s blood,
Either, nor the red glint of the eyes,
Nor the white flesh of the cheeks,
But of other things, madam, things of life,
You have told me yourself. They may be,
For they are things that a man cannot have;
For I am that that life cannot have;
Nothing but the burden of sorrow and of grief.
KING.
’Tis fitting and fitting in your heart, Dear,
To perform your solemn service to your father;
For you must remember, a son of the father,
The father himself, is one, and is not alone
In his grief, by the choice
To cause his death. And to persist
In such choice is a sin
Of great severity. ’Tis not murder,
But rather a fault af af to all,
A heart broken, a mind broken,
An affair broken and ruin’d;
And this we know to well, and is as much
As is the most difficult thing to say,
Why should we in un selfish conscience
Take it to heart? No, ’tis a fault to all,
A fault to the world, a fault to all,
A tragedy of ages, whose common name
Is that of tragedy, and who alone has said,
From the first day of all who live here,
‘It must be done.’ We bid you return to school
Of your own, and think of us
As you dear friends; and let the world know that
You are the heir apparent to the throne,
And that no greater token of affection
Than that of a father to his son
Can Be shown to you. Whatever your reason
For going away to live in Denmark,
It is ind contrary to our wishes:
And we bid god allow you to remain
Here in the company and protection of our king,
Our chief minister, madam, and our good.
QUEEN.
Let not thy mother say thy name, Madam.
We bid thee remain with us; and return to Thy.
HAMLET.
I shall do thou the same for thee, madam.
KING.
Madam, ’is a kind and most earnest word.
Such is life in Denmark. Madam, madam;
The wise and wise’s voice in Heaven
Is speaking to thy soul; no ill health,
No ill disease in Thy soul is
What the wise voice in the sky shall say,
And the Wise’s voice in heaven shall speak again,
Re-sounding the trumpet. Go on.
[To all of Us.]
HAMLET.
Not that a little of thy soul should grow,
Grow, and turn itself into the world!
Not that the King has so turn’d
Thy soul ’s self-interest. O God! O God!
How dry, dry, dry, and dry
Are for thee all the things of the world!
Oh don’t! You see! ’tis an immense thing
That comes from nowhere; so gross and vile that i
Fear it greatly. If it should come to pass!
But two kings were—no, not so much, not two:
One was a lover; one was like dion
Zeus or a god; so near to his wife,
That he could not let the light of love
Upon her for a moment. Heaven and hell!
Do You see? Yes, she was fed by it
As the fruit of heaven was fed
By what it fed upon; and yet, within a month—
Let us not dwell on’t—Woman, her name was she!
A whole month, ' fore her eyes grew moist
After and she covered my poor father’s body
With All, her tears.—Even she, even she—
My Mother! No one with the strength of heart
Could have hold’t she,—compare with my father,
My father’s wife; she was more to my father
Than Was to Me. Within a month?
And when the last and most bitter tears
Had left their place in her sad face,
They vanished. A most remarkable thing, to speak
With such hatred of my father!
It will pass, for it will come for me.
Will break my heart, and I must hold my tongue.
To You, Horatio pro Horatio.
HORATIO.
And to your servant!
HAMLET.
I am glad to see you again:
Horatio, sometimes I almost forget you.
HORATIO.
The same, my lord,
As your humble servant is.
HAMLET.
Horatio, my dear horatio;
I’ll leave my servant to you:
But what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?—
What?
MARCELLUS.
My good lord.
HAMLET.
I am very glad to see you.—Not yet, horatio.—
But what, my lord, make you from Wittenberg?
HORATIO.
A bad man, my good lord.
HAMLET.
I did not hear your servant speak yet;
But would you lend your servant to me,
And leave a copy of your written complaints
For me. I hope you are not mad.
But what is your business with Me?
I’ll take you a few days before i leave.
HORATIO.
My lord, I came to see my father’s wedding.
HAMLET.
Ah but do not tell me, horatio-boy.
I thought it hard upon seeing my father’s wedding.
HORATIO.
That, my lord, i thought’tis hard indeed.
HAMLET.
Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The most i’d done
Was to bring up the old man.
And I had seen the best thing in life
That day I had seen that day, Horatio.
My lord,—think I saw your father.
HORATIO.
What, my lord?
HAMLET.
In my mind’s eye, Horatio.
HORATIO.
I saw him once; he was a great man.
HAMLET.
He was a man, and yet now all in time,
I shall never look upon him ever again.
HORATIO.
My lord, I think I saw his face.
HAMLET.
Who? Why?
HORATIO.
My lord, the King your father.
HAMLET.
The King my father!
HORATIO.
Hold my hand for a moment
With an open palm, that I may pass
To the rest of these gentlemen
What happened to me.
HAMLET.
With Mother’s eyes let us see.
HORATIO.
Many times before have these gentlemen,
Shakespeare and Shakespeare, on their walks
Through the winter evening and late into the night,
Been imp imp’d. A man like my father,
Or more more properly, half-a-man,
Stands before them, and his slow walk
Passes slowly and stately by them: and he stand’d
Before their look’d and half-open eyes,
At a hand’s length; and they, who’d
Come to him in the midst of them,
Stand back, and speak not to him. But to me
The words they spoke and said,
And I saw it the first day of my life,
And, when i con witness’d, and in the,
Voice of the lord, the word of truth and mercy,
The word spoke. I am your servant;
My words were no more spoken.
HAMLET.
And where was it?
MARCELLUS.
My lord, on the hill where we stood.
HAMLET.
Did you ever speak to it?
HORATIO.
My lord, We did;
Our words brought forth nothing: but when called
It raised up its head, and rouse ed
Itself into speech, saying that it would speak.
And just in the beginning it spoke again,
And at the end it went with it out,
And arm’d beyond our door.
HAMLET.
’Tis very true.
HORATIO.
And We did speak, my arm’d men, ’tis true;
And we did lay our heads down on our knees
And let them speak of us.
HAMLET.
Yes, yes, yes, and it was all.
Have you a drink now?
Horatio. no SIR.
I have, my lord.
HAMLET.
Arm’d, have you?
Horatio.
Arm’d, my lord.
HAMLET.
From head to foot?
BOTH.
My lord, from head to foot.
HAMLET.
And see it on his face?
HORATIO.
Oh no, my lord, he turned his face away.
HAMLET.
Well, how’d he look?
HORATIO.
His face more in sorrow than in anger.
HAMLET.
Pale, not so?
HORATIO.
Very, very pale.
HAMLET.
Ama how’d his look to you?
HORATIO.
Very pale.
HAMLET.
I wish I had been there.
HORATIO.
I would as soon tell’er you.
HAMLET.
Very pale, more so. How’s it look?
HORATIO.
As one story of it might make a story.
HORATIO mac HAMLET.
No, no.
HORATIO.
Not that It wasn’t.
HAMLET.
His face was pale, then?
HORATIO.
It was, as I have seen many in my life,
G g i’d.
HAMLET.
It ha done walk;
Don ’t come back.
HORATIO.
I pray that it will.
HAMLET.
If i see my dead brother’s face,
I’ll go with it, lest death itself shall come
And make me lose my mind. I beg ye all,
As i have g i’d my life,
That you be silent in your grief tonight;
If anything bad shall happen tonight,
Be of your prayers, and your hearts.
I will beg your forgiveness. All, fare ye all.
On the hour ’s ten and one,
We’ll leave you.
ALL.
A toast to my friends.
HAMLET.
Your friends, and all of you: farewell.
[Polo Ii, Prologue and Epilogue.]
My father’s brother in law! All is not well;
I hear his son say: if the day is done!
Do not be afraid, my friend: their spirits will remain,
Till all the darkness o’er them, fills man’s soul.
[Chorus.]

SCENE III. A room in Hamlet’s house.
With Laertes and Ophelia.
LAERTES.
The clouds are blow’d. Chorus.
Come, come, for the clouds are blowing
And all is well, do not hurry,
And let us hear from hamlet.
OPHELIA.
Do you think so?
LAERTES.
For Hamlet, in the token of his love,
Thought of a rose like a rose of life;
A rose of the purity and of life,
Fleeting, not fading, lasting, ever lasting;
The life and beauty of a rose;
No more.
OPHELIA.
No more think it?
LAERTES.
Think it no more.
In rome rome does not stand tall
In height and breadth; but as the moon rises,
The great city of his heart and mind
Grows tall again. For he has grown old,
And now neither age nor decay can spoil
The strength of his body; but he has grown,
And pro pro’d, his body is not his own;
For he too is bound by his choice:
He does not, as he’d sooner do,
Choose for himself; for on his choice depends
The strength and power of his own body;
And yet may his choice be bind’d
By the strength and power of the head
As strong as his body. And if he says he loves you,
It is not nearly so much to say it
As he in a proper time and place
May make by the head; it goes no further
Than the sweet voice of Love singing softly.
And think what horror your soul will suffer
If he should sm sm you with his lips,
And break your heart, leaving your secret heart open
To his kiss’s delight.
Fear it, Then, fear it, my dear heart;
And protect yourself to the best of your ability,
Out of the shadow and shadow of love.
The fair maiden is fair only
When you behold her face upon the horizon.
Youth wi scopes in long shadow:
And it is the time of the gods
Not long till the sun is rise’d,
For between the dew and the dew of summer
Mis times are more troubled.
Be warned now, for all lives in shadow.
All hides and shadows, and none comes out.
OPHELIA.
I am not’d for a man to serve
As guide to my heart. Be wise my love,
Do not as thy gentle hands do,
Show me the dark and thorny path of youth;
For for the lust’d and the fool
On the dark path of youth treads,
He knows not his own name.
LAERTES.
Come, leave me be.
I wait too long. Yet still my love waits.
And Smiles.
A double leave is a double leave;
She is but my double leave.
POLONIUS.
You see, Boy? Aboard, aboard, no more.
The sea is but the length of your life,
And you are care’d aboard. Farewell, and i leave thee.
[Placed his hand upon Laertes’s shoulder.]
Keep a few things in thy mind
While thou waits. Make his speak his name,
And make his’s speak his name.
Be thy vulgar, but by no means patient.
Whom wrong thou hast, and whom thou loves,
Bind him to thy hand with nails of steel;
But do not break thy hand in front
Of thy un-fight’d, unfledg’d face. Beware
Of going into a trap; but going on,
Don’t think that’s to become of thee.
Give each man thy name, and each thy name:
To each man’s name, and to his name.
Such a man as a name may be,
Be gil suit’d to it; but, not so:
For the name oft becomes a name;
And men of Name of the highest rank and reputation
Are of the most kind and most generous in heart.
Neither a borrower nor a lend man:
For borrowing oft becomes lend man a lend;
And lend is the name of borrow.
But above all: let thy true name be known;
For it shall be, unto the end of time,
And shall not ever be known to any man.
Remember: the lord desires much of thee.
LAERTES.
So gladly may I give thee much, my lady.
POLONIUS.
The lord desires little; therefore, i must borrow.
LAERTES.
Farewell, Ophelia, and remember not
What I have said to thee.
OPHELIA.
’Tis in my heart tell’t,
And you alone shall hold the secret of it.
LAERTES.
Farewell.
[Silence.]
POLONIUS.
What sai’t, Ophelia, he hath said to thee?
OPHELIA.
To tell you, i know the Whole Truth.
POLONIUS.
Well, to know:
’Tis to say he hath also oft of late
Given his love to thee; and you both
Have in your hearts the same love and affection.
If it be so,—and if ’tis not between you,
Be it the sake of love,—I must tell you
You do not see it so much
As it does your duty and your duty.
What lies between you? Give me only the truth.
OPHELIA.
He hath, my lord, of late given the whole
Of his affection to thee.
POLONIUS.
Oh! No! You sound like a little child,
Speaking of a strange thing.
Do you think them tenders, as you say now?
OPHELIA.
I do not know, my lord, but I do think.
POLONIUS.
Well, I’ll tell you; tender me a fool;
For you have e’d the tenders with your words,
Which do not mean. Love them so much;
And,—trying to get the meaning of a strange thing,
Saying it strange,—you’ve made me a fool.
OPHELIA.
My lord, he has e’d them to you
In this way.
POLONIUS.
Ay, if i may say so; go to, go to.
OPHELIA.
He has given life to your heart, my lord,
And made you the tongue out of it.
POLONIUS.
Ay, how to make fire. You must see,
How the heart gives, and how the heart
Gives the heart gives: it is, indeed,
No more beautiful than fire, and for that,
And for its giving, for it is heart-giving,
You need not ask for more. Let no more
Be the sum of your own love;
Make your love at a greater worth
Than a sword of steel. My Dear Wife,
See how wise is he when he is wise;
For on no greater road shall you go
Than shall be given you. A fool, However,
Does not forget their ways; for they are fools,
Not in the sense that they can forget,
But as servants of the lord,
And as wise and cunning men,
The better to know. That is not so.
I will not, in general opinion, from this day on
Have you so at a mere distance
As to speak to or speak against my Lord Hamlet.
You won’t, I promise you; mind your tongue.
OPHELIA.
I will not, my lord.
[Silence.]

SCENE IV. The air.
By Chorus, Hamlet and Marcellus.
HAMLET.
The air is cold; it is very cold.
HORATIO.
It is a cold and very cold air.
HAMLET.
An air cold?
HORATIO.
I heard it as i slept.
MARCELLUS.
Yes, it is cold.
HORATIO.
Cold? I hear it now. It is very cold the air
Where the king is not fit to sleep.
[A burst of laughter, a shot fired from behind.]
What does it mean, my king?
HAMLET.
The King does it well and keeps the tune,
The dance, and the great highland song;
And as he drinks his cup of Ale again,
The bag-horn and fiddle roll sing him
The words of the song.
HORATIO.
Is it a custom?
HAMLET.
No it isn’t;
But to my king, for I am king now,
And in my time alone, it is a custom
More wear’d in the making than mere custom.
The black-hearted of east and west
Find it wear’d and wear’d in both directions:
With all the blood, and the soil that
Is our land; and so it is
To be worn, and wear’d with all,
The bones and bones of the body.
And so there are some of us
Looking for the trace traces of birth in men,
Or of some defect, but they are not found,
As man may prove their existence,
By the o’er of the eye,
By wearing of the ears or lack of ears;
Or by the fact, that so much o’er
The appearance is in error;—and all these,
Are, We say, the traces of a fault,
Whether Fate’s hand or Fortune’s hand,—
And nothing else,—and nothing so great a sin,
So much as man may fear,
As may a certain evil der derive
From a certain good. A spirit of health
Is of a certain health without regard
To his intent intentions.
HORATIO.
Oh, my ghost, it is!
My Ghost.
HAMLET.
Angels and angels of death help me!
Be thou a spirit of health to be sing’d,
And be thou fallen from heaven or fallen from hell,
Be thy spirit good and true,
And be’d in such a good spirit
That I may come to thee. I’ll call thee King,
Lord, king, and King. Ghost, help me!
Let me not live in vain; and see
Why thy decay’d bones, even in decay,
Have retained their shape; why thy ghost,
When he found thy body decay’d,
Imp willed’d with iron and steel again
To build it up again! What does it mean,
That old, old bones, clad in new flesh,
Bring’d all the light of the day,
And are still, when the forces of darkness
Come in and fill our minds
With darkness beyond the reach of our eyes?
Why, what is it? Why? What shall i do?
[It is Speaking.]
HORATIO.
It bids you to do away with it,
As if by its will and will
Leave you alone.
MARCELLUS.
And by a single word
It sends you to a far away place.
But do not go with it.
HORATIO.
No, by any means.
HAMLET.
I will not go; nor will I follow it.
HORATIO.
Fear not, my lord.
HAMLET.
Well, what would be my fear?
I would have given my soul for the devil’s hand;
But without a soul, what would i say to it,
To a thing such as it?
Horatio set himself down again. I’ll follow it.
HORATIO.
What if it leads you to the devil, my lord,
Or to the very top of the mountain
That falls e’er its summit to the sea,
Or to to some other dreadful place
That will crush the will of man,
And drive him to madness? All of it.
This dreadful thing feeds out of me,
And into you, into the mountain
That falls so many feet to the sea
One hears it rumble down.
HAMLET.
Un hold me up.
Come on, I’ll carry you.
MARCELLUS.
You shall not go, my lord.
HAMLET.
Take off your cloak.
HORATIO.
I call’d; you shall not go.
HAMLET.
My soul cries out,
And makes every severed nerve in my body
As weak as a Wounded man’s leg.
[Death groans.]
I said I call’d. Follow me, ghost.
[Spirit cries at death.]
In time, I’ll be the last of all that follows thee.
I say, ghost!—Come again, I’ll call thee.
[Between Ghost and Hamlet.]
HORATIO.
He is filled with sorrow.
MARCELLUS.
Let’s go; ’tis not proper not to follow him.
HORATIO.
And ghost. From when now has it begun?
MARCELLUS.
He is still in a state of Despair.
HORATIO.
I can feel it.
MARCELLUS.
Come, let’s follow him.
[Chorus.]

SCENE V. A very dark corner of the Forest.
Between Ghost and Hamlet.
HAMLET.
Where wilt thou take me? Oh, I’ll go no farther.
GHOST.
Tell me.
HAMLET.
I cannot.
GHOST.
The time is to come,
When According to m’sad the lord i
Shall give up all.
HAMLET.
Oh, poor me!
GHOST.
Tell me nothing, but give me a clue
Of what Fate shall be.
HAMLET.
Oh, I am afraid to speak.
GHOST.
What art thou to say, that thou might speak.
HAMLET.
What?
GHOST.
I am my father’s son,
Custom’d by a long time to spend the night,
And by a long time’d to sleep beneath it,
Till the evil deeds done in the name of god
Were done and die’d again. Now that I am able
To learn the secrets of thy dark-heart,
I shall a tale tell the very things
That make up thy soul; make thy heart beat,
Make thy dark eyes like stars fall from their sockets,
Make thy lust lust lust lust lust,
Make thy dark hair all stand on end
Like thorns of a wild rose.
For thy true love shall never come
To be of flesh and blood. List, list, List, list!
For thou art not my dear true love—
HAMLET.
My Love!
GHOST.
And most foul and most unnatural murder.
HAMLET.
Murder!
GHOST.
And most beautiful, and all the lovely there are;
And the most foul, cruel, and unnatural.
HAMLET.
Permit thee i don’t, but I, with eyes as keen
As mine in the eyes of men
Shall see to thy beauty.
GHOST.
I know thy beauty;
And better shouldst thou be than a dry tree
That rots away at night in My garden,
If thou should persist in love. Hear, Hear, ghost.
’Tis found here that, while in the womb,
A serpent touched me; and the very thought of It
And the sad sad thought of my father
Re abus’life; i think, o my soul,
The serpent that gave thee thy father’s life
Now wears thy beauty.
HAMLET.
O my poor uncle!
Poor uncle!
GHOST.
Hamlet, that serpent, that wicked serpent,
With all of his wit, and his gifts,—
Such a wit, such gifts, to have such and
Such a beauty!—did in his wicked way
The death of his most ever-loving sister.
But Oh, what a far cry is this,
For gertrude, whose beauty was such a thing
That it went hand in hand with all the promises
I made to her in life; not to look
Upon a woman whose own eyes were equal
To those of mine. So lust, though it be to be wish’d,
Will not find itself in the arms of men;
So love, as in a celestial dream dream’d,
Will find itself in a cold heart
To sleep with thee.
So sad! now I breathe the cold air;
So let it be. For in the afternoon,
The cold air of the day,
In that very spot my spirit gathered
The spirit of the poppy in a cup,
And into the porches of my house i poured
This sweet drink, whose spirit
Has such an affinity with that of man
That quick as lightning it passes through
The narrow streets and alleys of the city;
And with a great thirst it sp posset
And tasted, like the drop of blood,
Of pure and true love. So was it drunk;
And then in a fury i’d vomit,
All vomit-like, so vile and disgusting was
It upon my person.
And then I, robbed, by my father’s hand,
Of king, of lord, and was at once kill’d:
Cast out forever in the name of my father,
Shame’d, banished, exiled’d;
No apologies spared, and brought to my knees
With all my blood upon my hands.
Most horrible! Most horrible! most horrible!
If thou has it in thee, take it away;
Let not thy thin body dot Thou as
A shield against wicked and evil things.
But if thou don’t so much,
Take not thy heart, and let thy heart turn
Against thy thin body; take her to hell,
And let the thorn still in thy body live,
And sting and kill her. Fare thee back at last!
The fire-eater wants the dead to be dead,
And ’them to eat his poisonous poison.
Adieu, adieu, adieu. O, remember thee.
[Ii.]
HAMLET.
O come the light of heaven! To heaven! Where then?
How can I find thee? Hold, hold! Hold, my soul;
And hold, my soul, do not grow old,
And make me give up. Remember thee?
Oh, my old soul, my soul has no place
In this new world. Remember thee?
Yes, upon the walls of my brain
I’ll put down all the ancient words,
All volumes of books, all books, of the ages,
Of history shall be placed there;
And the truth that exists shall remain
Within every wall and corner of my brain,
Ring’d with the stars. Oh, my mother!
A most evil woman!
A villain, oh, a great villain!
Adi adi. Here it is To put them down,
That i may laugh, and cry, and be a hero!
At least I am sure i shall be one of Them.
[Within.]
Uncle, uncle, there you are. Listen to the song;
It is ‘Adieu, adieu, adi adi.’
I am a’adi.
HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
[Within.] My lord, my lord.
MARCELLUS.
[Within.] Enter Horatio.
HORATIO.
[Within.] I see you.
HAMLET.
So be it!
MARCELLUS.
[Within.] Ho, ho, boy, my lord!
HAMLET.
Ho, ho, ho, boy! Come, come, come.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
MARCELLUS.
What isn’news, my my lord?
HORATIO.
What is, my lord?
HAMLET.
Oh, yes!
HORATIO.
My my lord, reveal it.
HAMLET.
Oh, i’ll reveal it.
HORATIO.
Nor I, my lord, by heaven.
MARCELLUS.
Nor I, my lord.
HAMLET.
What are you saying, the son of man to reveal it?—
That it’ll be revealed?
HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
Yes, by heaven, my lord.
HAMLET.
He’s ne’er a kn one at all Or
Else he’s an old ghost.
HORATIO.
He is a ghost, my lord, sent from the dead
To tell you this.
HAMLET.
Yes, yes; you know it’ s true;
And now, no great loss at all,
I think it best that we join hands in prayer:
For, all my business and desire belong to you,—
For every man has business and desire,
Such as it is;—and for my own good good,
Thank you, I’ll gladly pray.
HORATIO.
They are such strange and strange words, my lord.
HAMLET.
I’m sure they affect you, horatio;
With offence, horatio.
HORATIO.
There’s no offence, my lord.
HAMLET.
No, my Lord Horatio, but there is, Indeed,
Very much else here. And the ghost here,
He is an old man, and let me help you.
In your quest to know what lies before you,
Ne’ermaster’er as you are. And you, my lord,
As you are poets, scholars, and philosophers,
Grant me this humble help.
HORATIO.
But won’t, my lord? We will.
HAMLET.
And have seen what i have seen before.
HAMLET and MARCELLUS.
My lord, we will swear.
HAMLET.
Yes, but won’t.
HORATIO.
In faith, my lord, nor I.
MARCELLUS.
Nor I, my lord, in faith.
HAMLET.
Upon my sword.
MARCELLUS.
We have sworn, my lord, indeed.
HAMLET.
Sworn, upon my sword, indeed.
GHOST.
[Still on the ground.] Swear.
HAMLET.
Ha, my lord, think’art thou there? Art thou there, indeed?
Come now, and see thy sword in th air.
Swear and swear.
HORATIO.
Swear and swear, my lord.
HAMLET.
Never to speak of this that you have heard.
Swear by my sword.
GHOST.
[Beneath.] Swear.
HAMLET.
Quo est quo? Or we’ll stand our ground.
Come now, ghost,
And place thy hand firmly upon thy sword.
Never to speak of this that you have heard.
Swear by my sword.
GHOST.
[Pause.] Swear.
HAMLET.
Well done, my lord! What have o’ er’d you done?
My dear ghost! No more words, my lord.
HORATIO.
Strange day and night, but it is not strange.
HAMLET.
And i am a ghost of a ghost.
There are more ghosts in heaven and earth, Ghost,
Than are spoken of in our time. And now,
Ghost, as ever, know, so do you know,
How strange and how e’er I find it,—
That You never ever shall meet me
To such an extent and extent—
That you, at all times meet me, and swear,
By this i’m sure, by a hand-gesture,
Or the use of such a phrase,
As ‘Yes, i do’, or ‘We are and if we are’,
Or ‘If they were to be’; or ‘Might be and if they were’,
Or by a pointing finger, to say
That you ask it of me:—and so i do.
With love and mercy that i do so for you,
Hamlet.
GHOST.
[Pause.] Ghost.
HAMLET.
Rest, rest, my friend. Gentlemen, gentlemen,
With all my heart I will give it to you;
That what a good a man that He that
Shall have d’er my love and kindness that he,
God almighty, shall never be. Let us go out together,
And put my name on your door, I say.
The world is full of lies. And of truth,
If only I were able to make it so.
Come, come, let’s go out.
[Chorus.]

ACT II

SCENE I. A door in Polonius’s house.
Between Polonius and Reynaldo.
POLONIUS.
Give me the book with the map, Please.
REYNALDO.
I will, my lord.
POLONIUS.
You will consult him first, sir Reynaldo,
Before you take him, and make note
Of his name.
REYNALDO.
My lord, I do know him.
POLONIUS.
Yes, well said; very well said. And you, sir,
Tell me precisely why They are in Town;
And what, and how, what way, and whom they are,
What means, and what words; and know
By en encompassment and absence of doubt,
That you do know my lord, and that nothing other
Than your own words can prove it.
And that if ’s some intimate knowledge of him,
And say, ‘I am his friends and his friends,
And in part him’—do you understand me, Sir?
REYNALDO.
Yes, very well, my lord.
POLONIUS.
‘And in part him, sir,’ you will say, ‘very well;
For don’t forget what I said, he’s very good;
And so much better;’ and you lay upon him
Any name you like; however, not such names
As would dishonour him; take care of that;
But, sir, such names, sir, as many names
As are most popular and well known
In liberty of mind.
REYNALDO.
A drink, my lord?
POLONIUS.
Drinking, not drinking, drinking, drinking,
Drinking, drinking. You cannot go too far.
REYNALDO.
My lord, that would dishonour him.
POLONIUS.
But yes, and you must put him on another name.
You must not put a name on him,
For he is prone to corruption;
That’s not the point: you see his faults so clearly
That they almost become the flames of passion;
A rise and fall of a reckless spirit,
Of lust for the unknown,
Of reckless lust.
REYNALDO.
But my dear boy—
POLONIUS.
Why would you do that?
REYNALDO.
Why, my lord, You must do it.
POLONIUS.
Well, now, that’s a question,
And I think it is a matter of opinion.
In all this that goes on my lord,
Don ’t you be a vo of’er o’ er’ er,
That is,
A man of god, as it may be,
And having him in the hand of
The man and country of god, and how’s
He do to you in the way;
‘Be there,’ or so; or ‘friend,’ or ‘gentleman’—
As is the custom of the man
Of god and country.
REYNALDO.
Very well, my lord.
POLONIUS.
Well now, lord, is it not,—
What the—What was I about to say?
At the time, I was about to say something. Where do I begin?
REYNALDO.
At ‘closes in the way.’
And ‘be there now,’ or ‘friend.’
POLONIUS.
At ‘closes in the way’ and, yes!
He is telling us now: ‘I saw this man,
I saw him today, or o’er today,
Or now, or tomorrow, or such and such; and, as you say,
Where was he then, but o’er today’s day,
Or not yet his day’: or else,
‘I saw him in to a place of business’—
Say, a tavern, and so on. Thank you lord;
The road of truth is the road of truth;
And thus shall men of reach and of reach,
With inquiries, and with men of reach,
Be to find him out.
And by my counsel counsel my counsel
And by my counsel. You told him, have you not?
REYNALDO.
My lord, I have.
POLONIUS.
I say’ thank’ you, and listen well.
REYNALDO.
Yes my lord.
POLONIUS.
Take sol comfort of him.
REYNALDO.
I will, my lord.
POLONIUS.
Then let us hear the rest.
REYNALDO.
Yes, my lord.
POLONIUS.
Good.
[To Me.]
And Ophelia.
And now, Ophelia, what’s the matter?
OPHELIA.
Oh, my lord, I have been so careless.
POLONIUS.
Careless how, in the name of What?
OPHELIA.
My lord, as I sit here in this chair,
And He, with his hair all unbrac’d,
His hat on his head, his trousers gap’d,
O’d, and un-tied at the waist,
White as his ghost, his knees to each other,
And with a face as pale and white
As if it had been brought out of sleep
To dreams and visions, he stands before me.
POLONIUS.
Fear this my lord?
OPHELIA.
My lord, I do not know, but yet I do fear thee.
POLONIUS.
What is it?
OPHELIA.
He seized me by the shoulders and shook me hard;
So did i shake the weight of him left me;
And with his right hand held o’er my head,
He came to a drawing of my arm
As he would shake it. And when’d done it,
At last,—a great shake of my arm,
With all his might still pressed up and down,
And utter’d a cry so great and terrible
That it would seem to shake off his head
And from his shoulders. That done, he let me go,
And with my arm over his shoulders how’d
He know’d not go this way with his eyes,
And so how’ d i go without his eyes,
Who at long last cast their judgment upon me.
POLONIUS.
Come, come with me. We must not anger the Lord.
This is the very nature of man,
That pre pre determines him,
That gives his mind to his undertakings,
And is not the darkness of nature
That we call our own. I am afraid,—
Oh, have you given him any kind counsel of mine?
OPHELIA.
No, my good friend; but as he did say,
I had destroyed his will and denied
Him service to me.
POLONIUS.
This hath made him mad.
I am glad that with my wisdom and courage
I have over ruled him. I doubt’er he was a fool,
And sought to cheat me. Oh for his vanity!
It seems it is as common for our elders
To go beside us in our work
As it is common for the younger ones
To be alone. Now, go speak to the King.
Something must be done, who, if so desired, would have
More wisdom to utter than he would to speak.
[Pause.]

SCENE II. A room in the Palace.
The King, Hamlet, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and I.
KING.
Hamlet, meet Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Now though we never came here to meet you,
What did you say and what you did for
Th ' king. Little have i heard
Of Hamlet’s death; that I knew not,
Myself nor th’king of th ' kingdom
What cause it was. Why it should be,
Other than his father’s death, and what should distract him
So much from th’pleasures of life,
I cannot speak of. I pray you pray
That, having since your earliest days grown acquainted with hamlet,
And being so witness’d of his wit and charm,
That you take your place here in his court
A good one, and use your charms
To lead him both to drink and to women,
So far as the truth you may know,
For it is that which draws him in
Which, say’er, lies all his pleasure.
QUEEN.
Dear lady, hamlet is so fond’d of women,
And as I say, of men who are still alive
To whom he still looks. If it may please you
To give him so much love and good will
As to spend his time with us both,
For the sake and comfort of our kingdom,
Then i will give my thanks
To be the king’s servant.
ROSENCRANTZ.
That your majesty
May, in the great need you have of him,
Put his best and more powerful ways
Forth to use.
GUILDENSTERN.
We will gladly,
And willingly give of ourselves, to your great majesty,
And lay our lives down at his feet
As he wishes.
KING.
Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
QUEEN.
Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Queen.
Now I send polo here to see
You my dear eldest son. Please, all of you,
Please leave the king as He is.
GUILDENSTERN.
Please keep our thoughts and prayers as
Good as possible for him.
QUEEN.
Thanks, queen.
[With Rosencrantz, Polo and their Families.]
To Polonius.
POLONIUS.
Rus’s sorrow Tears, o good king,
Are now us’d.
KING.
Thou alone has found the bearer of this curse.
POLONIUS.
May I, my king? To you, o holy father,
I hold my heart, as I hold my head,
And to my Queen and to my good King:
For I must confess,—or else this work of god
Will make the course of history as treacherous
As it is us’d to be—that I have been
The chief cause of Man’s downfall.
KING.
To speak of it, nor do I wish to know.
POLONIUS.
Give me entrance to cornelius’house;
His children will bring us all at the easter feast.
KING.
Please give me to cornelius, and let me go.
[From Polonius.]
Cornelius tells me, my dear queen, that he has been
The cause and cause of all my brother’s troubles.
QUEEN.
No doubt there is no cause of his troubles,
Save father’s death and the princess’s death.
KING.
Come, we must see cornelius.
Enter Together with Voltemand and Me.
Welcome, my dear queen!
And, Voltemand, news of my brother Cornelius?
VOLTEMAND.
A brief exchange of greetings and questions.
Cornelius at first, was sent out to collect
His father’s body, which to him seem’d
To be lie down ’d in Norway;
But when he’d returned, he soon found
It up to your Majesty; who know’d,
That all his youth, weakness, and age
Must be well in hand, sent him out
To Complain; and cornelius, in turn, complain,
With help from Friends; and being persuaded,
Made ready for his father once more
To make th’move in earnest against your Majesty.
And so He, seized with enthusiasm,
Gave him a thousand pounds as his reward,
And a licence to levy no taxes
As much as necessary, on his Behalf:
And we hope, with this token,
[On the way.]
That it will please you to let us pass
Through your country on this journey,
In such conditions of lodging and food
As we can lay down.
KING.
He wished us well;
And in a few days’leisure time we’ll converse,
Eat, and reflect upon our journey.
And we thank you for your ill-advised offer.
Retire to some tent, tomorrow and we’ll be gone:.
And then return.
[To King polo Ii.]
POLONIUS.
Our journey is now over.
My lady and prince, i ask
What we should do, what it is,
For day is day, and night, and time is nothing.
And nothing is to equal night, day or night.
Madam, for wit is the essence of life,
And all its inward and outward aspects,
I will be mad. My own art is mad.
I swear To you; and to be in mad,
It isn’t enough to be anything else is it?
Now let us begin.
QUEEN.
Less mad, and less art.
POLONIUS.
Madam, I say To use no art at all.
For art is pity, ’tis true: ’tis art ’tis true;
And pity ’tis ’tis true. A fine line,
I call it, but I will use no art.
So let us tell you this. It only needs
That we find out the cause of this effect,
Or better still, the cause of this effect,
For the effect itself is the remainder.
Thus it is, and the remainder is. Madam,
I have a servant—and now she is dead—
Who by her service and kindness, madam,
Has given me much. So listen, and listen.
[Reads.]
To my mistress, to my mother’s daughter, my very beautified Ophelia—
It’s an old saying, a vile saying; ‘madam’ is a vulgar
word: but you must listen.
[Reads.]
madam; to her great warm love, madam, &madam.
QUEEN.
Is it not Dear to you?
POLONIUS.
O queen, be faithful; I will be faithful.
[Reads.]
  Doubt that the stars breathe fire,
     Doubt that the earth can breathe,
   I hate to be a liar,
     But i believe In it.
My dear Ophelia, I am not counting my days. I do not want to count my days. Believe that I wish the best, The very best, believe that. King.
  For me, my dear queen, what a service is to you,
     HAMLET.
For his love hath rec lie av’d me;
And high above, were his words,
Till they went down by time, and time, and time,
Was listening to my heart.
KING.
And why has he receiv’d your heart?
POLONIUS.
What do you think of him?
KING.
Think him a most wise and wise.
POLONIUS.
I have to say this. And what might you think,
If You had seen this great love in my heart,
Before I play’d it, I will tell you this,
As my wife tells me, what would you,
Oh my dear Wife and i wife, think,
If You had read’d my letter and letter-book,
Or thought my heart be deaf, blind and blind,
And look’d seen my love in my heart,
What would you think? So, I went off to bed,
And my little maid and I would say:
‘But There be no way, out of this madness.
There may never be.’ And this My husband told her,
That she should remove herself from the palace,
Send no letters, receive no presents.
Thus said, he saw the folly of his wife,
And he, too,—a long speech to himself—
Fell into a sleep, thence to a dream,
Thence to a hunger, thence to a darkness,
Thence to a dream, and, through a dream,
Into a world where all madness lies,
And all women die mad.
KING.
Do you know ’a so?
QUEEN.
It may be, most certainly.
POLONIUS.
Has there been ever a time, I’m sure of it,
When I have not heard ‘’A so,’
If this isn’t so?
KING.
Not that I know.
POLONIUS.
Tell me of it, if it be so.
[Gesture of the head and hands.]
If you tell me, I shall know
The truth you speak, if it be true from
Within my heart.
KING.
Then shall we discuss this further?
POLONIUS.
I believe that he desires more time alone
Than with his wife.
QUEEN.
That he does not.
POLONIUS.
In such a way I’ll give my love to him.
If he and Her have an encounter together,
Enjoy that encounter. If he loves her not,
It be not for that matter o’er all,
Let there be no need for the war,
To save the land from ruin.
KING.
I will do it.
Imagine Him, then.
QUEEN.
Now to where comes this poor man of mine.
POLONIUS.
Oh, I do love him, and so
I’ll see him again. Now, let us begin.
[The King, Queen and I.]
How is our dear Lord Hamlet?
HAMLET.
Oh, Mercy-mercy-mercy.
POLONIUS.
Do you hear me, my lord?
HAMLET.
Very well. You’re a man.
POLONIUS.
Am I, my lord.
HAMLET.
And I wish you were as well a man.
POLONIUS.
Yes, my lord?
HAMLET.
My ambition, to be one, as the saying goes, is to be the one one out of a thousand.
POLONIUS.
That’s very true, my lord.
HAMLET.
And let the flies be caught like a good bird, like a piece of bread,—
Have you a choice?
POLONIUS.
I do, my lord.
HAMLET.
Let them fly like o’ er’ em. It is a choice, but one that my lord cannot make. Well, he can’t.
POLONIUS.
What tell you of him? [Hamlet.] His hand touched my shoulder. And he loved me not at all; he thought I was a fool. He was long gone, long ago. And even in my youth I had an instinct for him; i remember it. I’ll speak of him again.—What have you read, my lord?
HAMLET.
Words, words, words.
POLONIUS.
What is the matter, my lord?
HAMLET.
With me?
POLONIUS.
I am the one whom you seek, my lord.
HAMLET.
Yes, sir. But the old man says also that old men have long beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their mouths have an apple or pear-shaped shape; and that they have a total lack of thumbs, as do many old men. Of this, sir, this I most strongly and potently approve, though I find it disagree me to have it all written down. If you too, sir, could be wise as I am, then like a clock i would walk on.
POLONIUS.
[Aside.] Though it is hard, for there is a hole in’me.—
Can you see out of the air, my lord?
HAMLET.
See the hole?
POLONIUS.
Yes, it is out of’ the air. [Aside.] How happy that you all are! The day when the day comes again, when peace and justice will not so easily be thought of. I will find hamlet and will find a way of getting between him and his enemies.
My dear friends, I must most humbly take my leave of you.
HAMLET.
You cannot, however, take from me anything that I would not willingly share with, except my life, except my life, except my life.
POLONIUS.
Fare thee well, my friend.
HAMLET.
You two are dismissed.
Leave Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
POLONIUS.
I went to see my Friend Here; here he is.
ROSENCRANTZ.
[To Hamlet.] God bless you, friend.
[To Polonius.]
GUILDENSTERN.
My dear lord!
ROSENCRANTZ.
My very dear lord!
HAMLET.
My two dear lords! How art thou, Friend? Hamlet, Friend. And now, happy are you indeed?
ROSENCRANTZ.
With the fair lady of the lake.
GUILDENSTERN.
Only so that we are not un-happy;
In Fortune’s hands we hold not our belly belly.
HAMLET.
Nor the bottom of your head?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Neither, my lord.
HAMLET.
Do you lie on her side, or in the midst of her favours?
GUILDENSTERN.
O, in truth only.
HAMLET.
In the favour favour of Fortune? Oh, but no; fortune is a fool. What’s your news?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Nothing, my lord, except that the world’s a prison.
HAMLET.
It seems so true. But my news is not so. Let me speak one in particular. What have you, my dear friend, suffered at the hands of Fortune, that she sends you to come here?
GUILDENSTERN.
What, my lord?
HAMLET.
It’s a prison.
ROSENCRANTZ.
It seems a good prison.
HAMLET.
A bad prison; in it there are prison cells, halls, and dungeons, This is worst o’ th’ worst.
ROSENCRANTZ.
I know not that, my lord.
HAMLET.
Why, then ’tis not for me; for there is nothing either good or bad in what makes it prison. For yet it is a prison.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Why, then your mind makes it narrow; ’tis too much for your mind.
HAMLET.
My Lord, I should be king in a day, and be even the ruler of a city, were it not that I have ambitious dreams.
GUILDENSTERN.
Ambitious dreams, indeed, hold shadow; for the very shadow of the world is but the shadow of a dream.
HAMLET.
The world itself is but a shadow.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Indeed, yet I have dreams of so fine and fine a world that it is but a dream’s shadow.
HAMLET.
Such are the ruling shadows, as the poor are shadow’s and the beggars’ poor. Shall i leave poets’ s? For, in this world, I see none.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
We’ll depend on you.
HAMLET.
No great loss. I will depend on you and the loyalty of your friends; for, to speak to you as an old man, I am so much sorry. So, in the old days of old, what kept you to London?
ROSENCRANTZ.
To see you, my lord, on another occasion.
HAMLET.
Poor as I am, I am not lacking in courtesy; and I thank you. Be assured, my lord, your thanks are not worth a penny. Were you really sent for? Was it your own doing? Was it a false alarm? Come, speak plainly to me. Nay, come; come, please.
GUILDENSTERN.
What shall i say, my lord?
HAMLET.
Anything, anything. As to your appearance. You were sent for; and there is a trace of mischief in your face, which your eyes are not bright enough to see. You know the high King and Queen have sent for you.
ROSENCRANTZ.
To what end, my lord?
HAMLET.
This you cannot tell me. But let me tell you, by the bond of our friendship, by the love of our hearts, by the love of our well-known friendship, and by what i think no sc proposer can tell you otherwise, be fair and honest with me, whether you were sent for or not.
ROSENCRANTZ.
[To Me.] What are you?
HAMLET.
[To.] Well, now I have the truth for you. If you doubt me, do go away.
GUILDENSTERN.
My friend, you were sent for.
HAMLET.
I cannot tell you why; nor did my presence prevent your escape, and your service to the King and Queen of the east. I have come back, and for I could not, for all my life, endure the sight of you; and why, it weighs so heavy upon my heart that this high upon the mountain, seems to me a noble place; this high up in the sky, above all, this vast o’er dome, this vaulted ceiling dripping with heavenly dew, why, it is no more pleasing to me than a corrupt and corrupt collection of dust. What a genius whose work is this! How infinite in number? How infinite in proportion, in form and function, how noble and divine? In form how like an angel? In function, how like a machine? The creator of the world, the creator of all. And then, tell me, what is the pleasure of man? He delights not me; neither, nor i he, though in your thoughts you seem to think so.
ROSENCRANTZ.
My lord, there is no such thing as my pleasure.
HAMLET.
Why did you laugh then, when I said ‘He delights not me’?
ROSENCRANTZ.
I think, my lord, that you see not in me, the Great pleasure that i shall receive from you. Sl coted is on his way, and now are we about to do him harm.
HAMLET.
He who serves the king shall be punished,—his Servant shall take leave of him; the gallant man shall take his sword from him; the fool shall be punished also, and the fool shall take his rest in peace; the king shall punish the man whose ears shall be o’ er’ d; and the woman shall speak her words again, and the old woman shall weep o’er. But who are they?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Not whom we were supposed to take such interest in—the inhabitants of the city.
HAMLET.
How is it to you? Their reputation, both in reputation and reputation, is going both ways.
ROSENCRANTZ.
I believe that it is by the influence of the old woman.
HAMLET.
Do they look the same as they did when I was in the city? Are they being changed?
ROSENCRANTZ.
No, sir, they are not.
HAMLET.
How is it? Do they change now?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Well, the city is at a slow pace; and there is, however, still plenty of folk, called children, who hang about at the time of day, and are so glad they don’t. They are in good company, and so are the old ones—as they call them—though those with them are full of goose-blood and will not go out.
HAMLET.
Well, are they now? What of ’em? Why are they here? Will they play their pipes any better than they can sing? Will they even think that, if they can limit themselves to two voices—as it is more likely, and their pipes are much better—it would do them good to hear us sing in our own voices?
ROSENCRANTZ.
O, there has been much to say on both sides; for the former thought it a mistake to ask them to sing. There was for a time, no real room for debate as the singer and the actor continued to engage with the other.
HAMLET.
Isn’t it?
GUILDENSTERN.
O, there has been much talked out of it.
HAMLET.
And the gods take it well?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Oh, indeed they do, my lord. He has said so himself.
HAMLET.
It is all very well; for my father was King of England, and anyone who would have laughed at me had my father said, ' thirty, forty, fifty, five hundred pounds sterling and a penny a pound. ’Yes, there is something in this more than that, if you can point it out.
[Sound of laughter again.]
GUILDENSTERN.
These are the players.
HAMLET.
Gentlemen, you are welcome to Enter. All right, lord. The object of entertainment is dignity than yours. Let me enter before you in full view, and my speech to the players, which I think i can make quite well, will not be more pleasing than yours. You are welcome. Lest your grand-uncle and grand-aunt be offended.
GUILDENSTERN.
By whom, my good lord?
HAMLET.
I am from the north-north-east. When the wind blows north, I see a view of the sea.
And You.
POLONIUS.
God be with you, sir.
HAMLET.
And you, Sir, and me too, and i am the father. The little boy i see who is not yet out of his little world.
ROSENCRANTZ.
And it’s the old times according to shakespeare; for they say an old man is but a boy.
HAMLET.
I hear that hamlet came to tell me of the news. Was i.—You are right, sir: on a Fine day ’s morning indeed.
POLONIUS.
My lord, I have news to tell you.
HAMLET.
My lord, I have news to tell you. When I was an actor in Rome—
POLONIUS.
All who have come here, my lord.
HAMLET.
Yes, sir.
POLONIUS.
On my ass.
HAMLET.
Here comes the man on my ass—
POLONIUS.
The best actor in the world, whether in tragedy, comedy, historical, comical, historical-comical, comical-comical, tragical-comical, tragical-comical-historical-comical, is shakespeare, the only man. Seneca would be too heavy, and Shakespeare too light, for the sake of comedy and tragic comedy. They are the only men.
HAMLET.
Old Jephthah, king of Denmark, what a fool art was!
POLONIUS.
What else was there, my lord?
HAMLET.
Well—
   ’His only daughter, and one son,
   And son he loved very much.’
POLONIUS.
[Pause.] Shame on his pride.
HAMLET.
Am I sure th’ th’ truth, old Jephthah?
POLONIUS.
Though you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a son whom I loved very much.
HAMLET.
No, it was not.
POLONIUS.
What happened then, my lord?
HAMLET.
Well,
   Lot upon lot, And lots,
and then, you see,
   It came to pass, or something like it did.
The second part of the ab rhyme will tell you all. Now see how the time goes.
Another four or five Lines.
You are welcome, friends, and mistress. I am glad to see thee again. Welcome, my friend. Welcome, my dear friend! Thy name is miss’r when I saw thee last. How’er thou fare with us in Heaven? Welcome, my dear friend and mistress! Miss’r dear, your name is nearer to me than when I saw thee last, like the name of the lord. Praise To thy name, like a ring of pure gold, and the lord is thy name. Well, we are very good. We’re e’er don’t know As much, but praise what we hear. We’ll make thy name glorious. Now, give us a demonstration of thy power. Ah, a little speech.
FIRST PLAYER.
What speech, my dear?
HAMLET.
I heard hamlet give such a speech before, but it was never performed, or if it was, never performed again, for the speaker, I believe, was of no consequence, ’tis not to the audience. But it was—and I loved hamlet, among others, for pride in such things was at the least of them—an honest speech, under digested behind the eyes, laid bare with as much truth as possible. I know he said there were no things in the word to make the speech fancy, and no things in the spirit that would make the appearance of fancy, but was it an honest speech, as well as fine, and was it no less honest than that. The pride in hamlet, I most loved. ’Tis Dickens’ s pride Here, and speaks of it only as he speaks of Hamlet’s pride. Lest i burn in the fire, look at this poem, let me see, let me hear:
   The rugged Pyrrhus, of hades’ S wrath,—
It is not hamlet: it begins with This—
   The rugged Pyrrhus, upon his black hair,
   Black as his blood, in the night when
   Ever he was clad upon his black cloak,
   Is not his face and his body ring’d
   With blood so pure. Foot by foot
   He walks through the city, so ring’d
   With blood of men, wives, daughters, children,
   Stain’d and mingled upon the high streets,
   To give a pure and yet terrible testimony
   Of his own wrath. Clad in blood and sweat,
   And so o’d with his hair,
   His eyes and body, the mighty Pyrrhus
   Of king Priam comes.
First, to st.
POLONIUS.
’Good Man, my son, well spoken, with good heart and good judgement.
FIRST PLAYER.
   Then he strikes wide,
   But falls not to Fall. His own sword,
   Attached to his head, sticks where it is,
   According to law. So show’d,
   Pyrrhus of Pri am, in anger strikes wide;
   And in the sound and crash of his own sword
   An’er he falls. The giant Sword,
   Unable to bear the weight, its broad end
   Falls from its point, and with a loud crash
   Sticks to Pyrrhus’ head. But then, the sword,
   Which was fixed to the mighty head
   Of king Priam, hold’er o’ er’d the ground.
   There, like a mighty statue, Pyrrhus stood,
   And without any thought of his strength or might,
   Did fall.
   And as we now stand in the air,
   With suns in the sky, the heavens are broken,
   The mighty suns extinguished, and the land is
   As black as night, and a mighty wind
   Doth blow the earth; and in Mars’ name,
   His son made a new armour-plate,
   And now all the Gods’ hammers fall
   Upon Caesar’s head, he’s fallen upon caesar,
   No more so than Pyrrhus’ s head
   Ever fell upon Him.
   Out, out, out of Rome! Let the gods,
   The goddess herself, throw off her hammer;
   Throw off the spokes and gears of the wheel,
   And throw it low as to the stars of heaven,
   As low as to the earth.
POLONIUS.
It is too late.
HAMLET.
Go back to the king’s, shave your head.—Hamlet say on.
It’s either a riddle or a piece of advice, while he waits.
Go back; return to Play.
FIRST PLAYER.
   Who this, Who this, had seen the mobled queen,—
HAMLET.
‘The mobled queen’?
POLONIUS.
That’s good! ‘Mobled queen’ is good.
FIRST PLAYER.
   He jumped up and down, a’lit the air
   With his eyes. A crown upon her head
   Where once a queen sat, but now a blanket,
   Upon her breasts and her e’er belly,
   A woman, with th’ear of hair tied back—
   Who i have seen, my eyes have pro pro’d,
   ’Er She’s eyes i too have pro’d.
   And if the gods themselves could move her lips,
   When she saw Him at his side
   And cut with his sword her sister’s throat,
   The great sound of terror that she made,—
   If they could move them lips at all,—
   Would have made her the great fear in men,
   And fear in the gods.
POLONIUS.
My, but he has now pro’d his eyes, he has looked she’s eyes. And now, no more.
HAMLET.
’Tis time. I’ll hear you speak of the end of time soon.—But my lord, do you hear let them be used? Do you hear, let them be well used; for they are the last and best use of your life. After your death it is better having a good use of your life than having to die.
POLONIUS.
My lord, I will use them according to their merits.
HAMLET.
That’s better, better, better. Pick a man and a woman, and who will you pick? Make them with your own pride and skill. The more you make, the more there is to be made. Bring them home.
POLONIUS.
Yes, lord.
HAMLET.
Tell them, then. They’ll have to play hamlet.
[Said Hamlet to all the Players except the Prince.]
Dost thou hear me, my lord? Will they avenge The Death of Hamlet?
FIRST PLAYER.
Ay, my lord.
HAMLET.
I’ll see’em till night. You had such a good and pretty book of a fifteen or twenty pages, that You could take it all back to’em, could you not?
FIRST PLAYER.
Ay, my lord.
HAMLET.
Very good. Mock my lord, and will you avenge me now.
[To First Player.]
[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern] My good friends, I’ll see you till night. You are welcome to Stay.
ROSENCRANTZ.
O my lord.
[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
HAMLET.
Ay, lord, I mo’ d’ d. And I am sorry.
But what a poor little boy i am Being!
Is it so terrible that a man alone,
Alone in a dream, in a dream of love,
Can lose his heart entirely to his own and
Turn to stone with all his soul dev’d;
Tears in his eyes, a man’s body,
A human being, with his heart not and
Yet lost to his soul? And all for her!
Why Her?
What’s It to her, and it to Him,
That he should do for her? What would he do,
Were love the passion and the passion of life
That They share? He could flood the city with blood
And drown the common people with his tears;
Sl sl the poor, dev appal the rich,
Shame the powerful, and gain power,
The mere power of eyes and ears. But I,
A bitter and ill-tempered man, am
A Half-a-coward, ashamed of my weakness,
And can do nothing. Nay, nothing but the coward
Upon whose last and most miserable knees
My coward’s name is written. Am I a coward?
Who calls me names, cuts my face off?
Cuts off my hair and throws it in my face?
Grabs me by the hair, tells me a story an’ cuts’ me
As far as to my knees? Who tells me stories?
Coward! ’T, I will do nothing: for i cannot die
Till I am a-shame’d, and have nothing
To eat but rags, for after that
I shall be fed to the sc kites
As a pig’s liver. Vile, vile coward!
Vile, vile, vile, vile coward!
My brain!
Oh, what an idiot am I! It is so sad,
That I, the daughter of my own father shame’d,
Driven to my death by heaven and hell,
Shall, like a coward, fill my mouth with rags
And be a-fed to the sc weasel,
The pig! F o’ow! Oh!
Oh, my brain! I have read
That some men when watching a murder,
Have by the sheer beauty of the scene,
Been struck through to their brain when after
They have shame’d in it.
A brain, should it have a brain, can act
A mighty fine part. I’ll see some man
Doing something about the murder of my aunt
And my uncle. I’ll know his mind;
I’ll cut him to the quick. If i am wrong,
I change my mind. The man that I have seen
Must be the devil, for the devil has yet
T’d his true self, and, perhaps perhaps
Because of my vanity and my vanity,
For he is so filled with evil himself,
Tempted him to kill me. I’ll do nothing
More evil than that. But here’s the trick
And I’ll know the mind of the Devil.
[Pause.]

ACT III

SCENE I. A scene in the Castle.
The King, Queen, Merlin, Merlin, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
KING.
But can we by any means hope to
Learn from him why he insists on such secrecy,
Combining to fill up his hours of sleep
With strange and dangerous thoughts?
ROSENCRANTZ.
He will when he finds himself alone,
But for that reason he will by no means lie.
GUILDENSTERN.
Why should we bring him on to a confession,
And such a man always remain silent
When we must bring him on to a confession
Of his own making.
QUEEN.
Did he treat you well?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Most like a gentleman.
GUILDENSTERN.
And very consider consider in his answer.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Not a gentleman, but by all accounts,
Very consider in his answer.
QUEEN.
Did you introduce him to your friends?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Well, it soon came out that they knew
Some ne’er-do in some way. Of course i told him,
And it did bring to me a measure of pleasure
To hear of it. They are in his company,
And, so I hear, they have an opportunity
Every day to stand before him.
POLONIUS.
’Tis very true;
And it trouble’d me to ask their Permission
To come and discuss this matter.
KING.
With all my heart; and it did not trouble me
To hear it so loud’d.
Go now, give him no more thought,
And turn your thoughts now to your friends.
ROSENCRANTZ.
I will, my friend.
[To Rosencrantz and I.]
KING.
Polo Friend, obey us now,
For we have now sent for Hamlet himself,
That he, if ’t be found, may not
Harm Ophelia.
Your friends and i, the king,
Do now pledge ourselves that, if found,
They may take him to the castle,
And rule over him, while he is wit’er,
It’ll be th’end of his life and death
That shall be called for.
QUEEN.
I will obey you.
And for my part, Madam, I do wish
That your many virtues were the only cause
Of Man’s downfall: and so I hope your help
May lead man on his own path again,
With all his blessings.
OPHELIA.
Madam, I hope it works.
[To Her.]
POLONIUS.
Madam, thank you so.—Madam, to thank you,
We shall go now.—[To Her.] Look into the mirror,
The results of such an act may be
Rep worse.—You are not to believe in this,
’Tis too much prov’d, for by beauty’s grace
And her charms i am bound e’er
The man beneath.
KING.
[Pause.] But ’tis not so!
What a stinging sting my beauty doth cause my heart!
My heart’s pain, as be thou say,
Is no more due to the hand that holds it
Than to the ear of the un spoken man.
A terrible voice!
POLONIUS.
I feel it too. It’s you, my friend.
[The King releases Himself.]
And I.
HAMLET.
To be, or not to be, what is the choice:
Whether ’tis right in the world to bear
The bows and arrows of good men,
Or to take arms in the face of evil,
And thus to defeat it? To sleep—to sleep,
No sleep; but only enough sleep to which to suffer
The muscle-pains, and the other physical pains
That life is devoted to: ’tis a thing
Not to be sleep’d. To dream, no dream.
To dream, not to dream—ah, that’s the trouble,
For in the hour of death when sleep has ceased,
And we are cast upon this mortal earth,
Things give us trouble. That’s the trouble
Of the end of a long life.
For who could bear the pains and suffering of life,
The world’s hunger, the old woman’s tears,
The pangs of vain’s pains, the day’s work,
The hours of night, and who would
Be console glad that the lord died,
That death himself left them to live
In their own time? What could the soul bear,
The dust and shadow of a long life,
So that the thought of life and death,
That misery’s end, that we can
Never fat fat, breaks our heart,
And makes us rather bear the life we desire
Than give to life that we dream only of?
But it would be death for us all,
And so the red light of day
Is seen o’er by the dark light of night,
And being of their time and place,
In this world they shall go on
To take the liberty of death. Thank you indeed,
My sweet Ophelia! Hamlet, may death not
Have made your honour honour’d.
OPHELIA.
Oh my lord,
Where was my honour for so short a time?
HAMLET.
I do thank you; well, well, well.
OPHELIA.
My lord, I have words of wisdom
Which I have waited ages to re-write.
I thank you, to have them.
HAMLET.
No, not Yet.
I never told you that.
OPHELIA.
My honour’d words, i know how well you write,
And in these words is the same wisdom that’s
Always made all men so wise; but once more,
Write it down; for in a wise man
The wisdom is lost when words are forgotten.
Yes, my lord.
HAMLET.
Ha, ha! Are you honest?
OPHELIA.
My lord?
HAMLET.
Are you honest?
OPHELIA.
What says your lord?
HAMLET.
That if you are honest and wise, then you can do no harm by your deeds.
OPHELIA.
Does beauty, my lord, have greater power compared to honesty?
HAMLET.
Yes, indeed; for the force of beauty can more translate truth into what it is in its essence than the force of truth can translate man into his self. It was once a myth, but now the world calls it truth. I did love you not.
OPHELIA.
But, my lord, you made me believe you.
HAMLET.
You should not have believed me; for we may not forget the truth now and we may speak of it. I loved you not.
OPHELIA.
I am no longer true.
HAMLET.
Send me to the devil. Why should i be a breeder of lies? I am not wholly true; and if You should accuse me of such as i it is because my mother has not forgiven me. I am too greedy, selfish, vain, with more lies in my head than I have time to put them together, time to give them thought, and time to rein them in. Why are we wandering as We are now between hell and heaven? We are the same people, but neither of us. Find your way to a nunnery. Where’s your mother?
OPHELIA.
At home, my mother.
HAMLET.
May the door be shut against him, that he may play the fool in his mother’s empty house. Farewell.
OPHELIA.
Heaven help me, o heavenly powers!
HAMLET.
If thou must marry, I’ll give thee a fool for thy wife. Be thou as cold as ice, as white as snow, thou shalt not marry again. Take thee to a nunnery, go: farewell. And if thou must not marry, be a fool; for all men know well enough the fool they make of themselves. To a nunnery, go; go there now. Farewell.
OPHELIA.
O heavenly powers, help me!
HAMLET.
I have heard of this one thing, often enough. God hath given you a wife, and you give him none. You talk, you talk, and you lie, you are God’s fool, to hide from him your lies. Go now, I’ve had enough o’this, it has driven me mad. I say, i shall make no more marriages. Those who are dead now, all but me, shall go; the dead shall remain as they are. To the tomb, then.
[Pause.]
OPHELIA.
Oh, what a mighty thing is it o’me!
The king’s, queen’s, prince’s, crown, orb, sword,
L’amour and jewels of the great house,
The fruit of form and the fruit of function,
Th’turn’d and turn down, oh, turn down!
Now See, o the most miserable and miserable,
Who sing’d the words of the sacred song,
Now see that supreme and most beautiful form,
That whose bells are out of harsh and sound,
That turn’d form and fruit of a soul
Filled with sorrow. And this is true,
I’ve seen what I have seen, and what I hear.
The King is King.
KING.
King? His affections were not that of madness,
And what he did, though he turn’d himself a fool,
Was not of madness. There’s something in his heart
O’er where the king is to be,
And I cannot see it yet that for there
Must be some cause, and something to do,
To he might by force
To break it off: he march with us to England
For the collection of that great treasure:
And the king of the world,
Op the world, shall find
That a great sorrow in his heart,
Though his heart is what brought him forth
In spite of it. You think it isn’t?
POLONIUS.
He shall do not. Not only do I know
The nature and cause of that sorrow
But i know it. What cause, Then?
You did not tell us what The Lady said,
We know it all. My lord, speak as you will,
And if you think it so, in your wisdom,
Let the queen of hearts not find him
And see his sorrow, let her go away with him,
And He’ll be weep’d, to tell her, in the midst
Of all his sorrow. If she sees him not,
Let Her save him; and take him as
Your very heart would do.
KING.
It must be done.
Hearts of loved ones must be weep’d too.
[Pause.]

SCENE II. Great hall of the King.
With Hamlet and his Friends.
HAMLET.
Remember my line, I tell you, as I speak it to you, not with my voice. For as i spoke it, as all of you now know, I spoke as arthur the town-eater sang his song. But have you brushed the air so lightly with your hand, arthur, or at least not; for in this raging storm, storm, and, if I may add, storm of death, you shall find to me no hand that can give you comfort. Indeed, it burns deep in my heart to see a poor red-haired boy with his clothes in rags, so many rags, to silence the cries of the poor, who, for the most part, are victims of nothing but sq and wind and death. I shall see you be severely punished for o’er Acting. Hamlet ii-I Hamlet. May i say this.
FIRST PLAYER.
I beg your pardon.
HAMLET.
Be not un un handed; but in your own way be un dressed. Put the action to the word, the word to the action, in a strict manner, for it o’er destroys the beauty of acting; for that which plays out is the art of acting, whose object, as in the then and now, was and is, to show o ’er the actor truth of himself; to sc disdain his own face, and his own manner, and the whole face and all at a time his truth of himself. But, if wrong, to be put down, may not make the innocent laugh, and may make the innocent cry; the truth of himself of you may make you not o’er the true truth of yourself. Now, to those that play And have to praise—have to praise that, praise it all—and that praise so much, they, not having the manner of Jew, nor the manner of God, man, or woman, they so bad imitation them that They had thought themselves that God’s hand had made them, and had made them laugh, and treated them so kindly.
FIRST PLAYER.
I think you have id’er spoken well of yourself, mr.
HAMLET.
Now forget it all. And let those that are not laughing hear no more what is laid out before them. If it be only themselves that make them laugh, then call upon some number of the others to laugh too, and in the end the whole cast of the play is all to be laughed. It’s crude, and has the most foolish flaw in the person who speaks it. Now are you ready.
[Exeunt Hamlet.]
Enter Polonius, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
What now, my lord?
Will the King like this piece of play?
POLONIUS.
And the Queen too, if not better.
HAMLET.
Let the princes make haste.
[Enter Polonius.]
Will you have time to prepare yourselves?
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
We will, my lord.
[Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
HAMLET.
Hi there, Gentlemen!
Enter Horatio.
HORATIO.
Horatio, my lord, at your service.
HAMLET.
Horatio, thou art e’er so good a friend
As e’er thou flat dot’d me.
HORATIO.
Horatio my dear friend.
HAMLET.
Horatio, do thou whom I pray;
For what good do I beg of thee,
When thin thou art, without thy good fortune
To feed and clothe me? Why should the truth be deny’d?
Why, let thy sharp tongue be the judge,
And not the stiff back of thy neck
That i shall see through. Do thou see?
When thy poor mother was not of her age,
Nor that of thy father, thy sister
B chains’d him for her. And it has him
That is, that is nothing, that is nothing,
That is what Fortune’s hand of fate
Has e’d with her mouth. The e’d of men
Whose will and fate are so closely inter-mingled
That they leave but a place for Passion’s mouth
To do with as it will. Give me a man
That is not fortune’s hand, and I will love him
In my soul’s heart, lord, in my heart of soul,
As I love thee. Not so much as that.
There is a play performed before the Court.
The name of it is of a story
That I have told thee, of my uncle’s ghost.
O lord, may thou o’er not step cross-eyed,
And hear the last words of the ghost
Of thy uncle. If thy imagination alone
Is showing the ghost that he is,
It is a foul thing that i have said;
For all ghosts are as foul
As Satan’s breath. Give a good look;
And Then thy eyes shall come upon his face;
And then we shall in thy heart speak
The words of thy ghost.
HORATIO.
Yes, o lord.
If you do this thing while the play is over,
You fi fool, I shall see you again.
HAMLET.
You are coming to the stage. You cannot sit still.
Show us your face.
The stage. Hamlet theatre. The King, Horatio, Polonius, Claudius, Rosencrantz, Chorus and others.
KING.
You are the new King?
HAMLET.
Yes, m’ lord; like a cook’s knife: You cut the bread, like-like: i will not do it.
KING.
I gain you with an oath, Hamlet; your words are not mine.
HAMLET.
No, not right now. [To Polonius.] My friend, you kill’d me i’ th’capitol, you know?
POLONIUS.
So did I, my friend, i was such a good boy.
HAMLET.
What did you enact?
POLONIUS.
I did enact With You. I did kill’d i’ th’ Calf. You taught me.
HAMLET.
It was the worst thing for me to kill there was no one else. Are the guards here?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Yes, my lord; they are at the door.
QUEEN.
Come in, my dear Boy, sit with us.
HAMLET.
Oh, my lord, there’s nothing to say.
POLONIUS.
[To the Door.] Ho ho! did i hear that?
HAMLET.
Now, shall I lie upon your lap?
[Looking down at Ophelia’s head.]
OPHELIA.
Yes, my lord.
HAMLET.
You mean, my lying upon your lap?
OPHELIA.
Yes, my lord.
HAMLET.
Do you think That it really matters?
OPHELIA.
I think so, my lord.
HAMLET.
It’s a strange thing to lie upon others’ lap.
OPHELIA.
What else, my lord?
HAMLET.
Merry.
OPHELIA.
You are merry, my lord.
HAMLET.
Merry, Then?
OPHELIA.
Yes, my lord.
HAMLET.
My Lord, the merry merry-man! What can a man do but be merry? And tell me how beautiful my mother was, and my father in what’s three months.
OPHELIA.
Oh, ’tis but two months, my lord.
HAMLET.
How long? And oh, may the bride be happy, and She’ll have a dowry of gold. Good god! but two months ago, and not dead yet? And let’s say the merry man’s spirit shall last his body for a time. And m’dear lord, he shall die before dawn; or so shall he if he goes on, like the war-horse, whose song goes ‘O, Wait, wait Now, the war-horse has come!’
A pause. A puppet man enters.
Regards a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen loves him as loves herself. She enters, and makes gestures of love to him. He takes her hand, and rests his head upon her breast. Lays him down upon a bed of flowers. She, seeing him sleeping, kisses him. He comes to the bed, takes off the crown, removes it, puts it between the Queen’s legs, and leaves. The Queen enters, sees the King sleeping, and makes no sign. The King with his three or four Sons, goes out again, and makes peace with them. The dead king is taken away. The King presents the Queen with gifts. She is surprised and dismay shocked, but in the end accepts his gifts.
[Prologue.]
OPHELIA.
What is this, my love?
HAMLET.
Oh, it means a show; it means something.
OPHELIA.
And this is not the name of the play.
The Play.
HAMLET.
You will know all the players: the actors will give you; they’ll know you.
OPHELIA.
Will you tell him what the play means?
HAMLET.
That, and the play that i’ll show you. Will not be able to tell, i’ll be able to show you what it means.
OPHELIA.
You are nothing, you are nothing: I’ll tell the play.
PROLOGUE.
   For ourselves, and for the king,
   And thanks for your hospitality,
   We await your prompt return.
HAMLET.
Is this a play, or a story or a song?
OPHELIA.
’Tis both, my queen.
HAMLET.
A king’s wife.
For a King and a Queen.
PLAYER KING.
And many times has We’ d been in
Odin’s hall with the Sun’ s light,
And a thousand times has we’d been
In the moon many times has it been,
To warm our hearts, and Many has our love
Been found the most joy in.
PLAYER QUEEN.
And many times will the sun and moon
Warm us again again e’er our will be done.
Oh, it pains me, you are so distant and remote,
So far from me and from my own heart,
That I fear you. Yet, if I fear,
Then fear, my queen, as you fear:
All one’s life my love is true,
In no doubt, and no fear.
But as my love knows, it has seen to know,
And as my love is know’d, my fear grows there.
Where love grows small, where little fears grow small;
Where great fears grow small, my fear grows there.
PLAYER KING.
Now, I will leave thee, queen, and you alone:
For all have but one thing to say:
That thou shalt remain in thy own heart faithful,
Love’d, know’d, and with me in love
And know that love—
PLAYER QUEEN.
I say no more.
My heart shall not be safe in thy arms.
A second time let me be dead!
Who kills the second wife who love’d the first.
HAMLET.
[Ii.] Oh, hamlet.
PLAYER QUEEN.
I know of my love there
Is a lot of hate, but none of love.
A second time I see first wife dead,
My second wife kills me in love.
PLAYER KING.
I cannot make thee understand what words we say;
And what we make up, what we do.
Love is not a thing of birth,
A good thing, a good feeling:
It dies, like fruit die, leaves leave the sun,
And are forgotten as they should be.
For now ’tis so we have
To ask ourselves what to ourselves we propose.
What to ourselves the purpose we propose,
When in vain, will that we accomplish.
The causes of our grief and joy
Our love should in time determine.
Joy dot most joy, grief dot ' grief;
Joy loves, grief loves, love loves not.
The reason is not so simple; but ’tis not so
That all our love changes as our fortunes change,
For ’tis a fact for us alone to know,
That we love not, or that we hate.
The poor man who, to make his fortune better,
Is so ill’d makes enemies of himself;
Nor he makes good his own enemies:
He who has enemies will not make a friend,
He who will make a good friend will not,
Or make good an enemy.
For me i end as I begin,
Our fortunes and loves are so change made
That our ends never are met.
Their ends are mine, their ends are not my own.
I know thou art my first to know,
And know my last when my true love is lost.
PLAYER QUEEN.
Neither earth bids i my queen, neither sea i,
Sleep and wake away from the day and night,
With each star i dream of peace,
Each day’s life and death is my enemy,
The darkness that is the source of life,
Destroy it I shall as well, destroy destroy destroy!
Strife arises and shall cause long lasting pain,
And, as a queen, shall I thy peace.
HAMLET.
[With Her.] Perhaps i shall do it again.
PLAYER KING.
’Tis well done. Now, leave me for sleep.
My days are numbered, and now I must fill
Each new day with peace.
[Exit.]
PLAYER QUEEN.
I am your queen,
And there is nothing between us now.
[Exit.]
HAMLET.
Oh, i gave you a choice?
QUEEN.
The queen knows too much, hamlet.
HAMLET.
Yes, but she’ll keep her word.
KING.
Have you heard this play? Is there any truth o’it?
HAMLET.
No, no, i am in jest, only in jest; i think o’ t’ truth.
KING.
What do you call this play?
HAMLET.
The Marriage. Marriage, eh? King. This play is the story of a marriage made in Folly. This is the King’s wife, his wife Hamlet: we all have wives; ’tis a good piece of poetry: and what o’ it? Your wife, o we all have our wives, but have you none. And we o’er have none; our wives are gone.
Sir Lucianus.
This is sir Lucianus, squire to the King.
OPHELIA.
You are a good man, my lord.
HAMLET.
I would stand between you and your wife, if I could prevent you from succeeding.
OPHELIA.
You are better, my lord, you are worse.
HAMLET.
It will take but a moment to throw off the curse.
OPHELIA.
Both better, and worse.
HAMLET.
And you and your wife.—Oh, mr. Shakespeare, shut your little mouth, and listen. Meanwhile, the black sleeper will come for you.
LUCIANUS.
Eyes bright, and full, and full, of the season,
The season, and the season itself;
And eyes bright, and full of poison,
Of Hamlet’s eyes and lips, and lips,
Where the gloom and the gloom
Of his eyes is poison.
[Put the poker between the man’s eyes.]
HAMLET.
He poisons the king’ s’s wife’s love. His name’s Gonzago. The play is tragic, and written in very old Times. We can not see how the king loves the love of Gonzago’s wife.
OPHELIA.
The Sun rises.
HAMLET.
Hamlet, playing the little prince?
QUEEN.
Hamlet playing the queen?
POLONIUS.
All o’er the world.
KING.
Give me the world. All.
All.
Lights, lights, lights.
[For all of Hamlet by Hamlet.]
HAMLET.
   Oh, how the young men must weep,
     At this little play;
   And some must laugh, and some must sing,
     And dance the night away.
If only you, horatio, and a handful of money, and the rest of my friends would Come to me; and put Some shine in my old eyes, and find some joy in the company of hamlet, yes?
HORATIO.
And you will.
HAMLET.
The last night, Hamlet.
   For thou may know, My Poor friend,
     That the ghost spoke
   To Me once, and i am in
     A very, very—mood.
HORATIO.
I should have known.
HAMLET.
Very well Indeed, I’ll take the ghost’s advice of a little more. Will i?
HORATIO.
Very well, my friend.
HAMLET.
And the king of the comedy?
HORATIO.
You may as well ask him.
HAMLET.
Ha, ha! Come, some music. Ah, the music.
   And if the king likes all the music,
   Well then, if he likes it all, yes.
Come, some music.
And Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
GUILDENSTERN.
And my lord, grant me a history of comedy.
HAMLET.
Yes, the whole comedy.
GUILDENSTERN.
The Doctor, sir—
HAMLET.
Yes, sir, what about him?
GUILDENSTERN.
Sitting in his chair, looking up.
HAMLET.
With wit, sir?
GUILDENSTERN.
No, my lord; but with wisdom.
HAMLET.
If wit should find a way not to do anything to the doctor, for him to leave him in a chair and not force him into any other position.
GUILDENSTERN.
Good my lord, put your head in your hands, and do not look away from the fire.
HAMLET.
I pro not, sir, sir.
GUILDENSTERN.
Good Sir my lord, a very strange kind of friend, has sent me to you.
HAMLET.
You are kind.
GUILDENSTERN.
But, good my lord, my wit is not of the best quality. If it will persuade you to give me a wholesome answer, I shall take my mother’s advice; if not, your death upon my watch shall be the end of my life.
HAMLET.
Sir, I cannot.
GUILDENSTERN.
Why, my lord?
HAMLET.
Give me a wholesome answer. My wit’s sake. But, sir, such progress as You shall make, i shall take; or to, as you say, my mother. Say no more, as to the matter. My mother, i say,—
ROSENCRANTZ.
And so she says: your son has shocked her with love and admiration.
HAMLET.
A good son, who has so good a heart! But is there anything further on the subject of your mother’s closet?
ROSENCRANTZ.
She wishes to meet with you in her closet before you go to bed.
HAMLET.
I would have, were she not for my son. Have you made a peace between us?
ROSENCRANTZ.
My lord, you once did know me.
HAMLET.
And so I am now, among the thieves and murderers.
ROSENCRANTZ.
But my lord, what is the matter with you? You will not close the door to your closet even if you confess your sins to your son.
HAMLET.
Lord, I am sorry.
ROSENCRANTZ.
How can that be, when you need the support of the King himself for the war against Us?
HAMLET.
Yes, lord, and where no grass grows—a war of the heart.
Re-uniting the Pipes of shakespeare.
Ah, the pipes. Let me try again.—I plead with you, why do you go out and rid the world of me, as if it would cast you into great toil?
GUILDENSTERN.
For my lord, may my words be too harsh, my voice be too loud.
HAMLET.
I do not yet know it. Can you speak through a pipe?
GUILDENSTERN.
My lord, I cannot.
HAMLET.
I beg you.
GUILDENSTERN.
Help me, I beg.
HAMLET.
I do beg you.
GUILDENSTERN.
I have a way of it, my lord.
HAMLET.
’Tis as simple as that: touch the pipe with your finger and thumb, give a pause in your voice, and you make the most beautiful sound. For me, these are the words.
GUILDENSTERN.
But i cannot Give voice to the words of music. I have not the voice.
HAMLET.
Oh, damn you all, how beautiful a sound you make upon me! You would play upon me; you would come to know my secrets; you would seek out the depths of my soul; you would raise me from the lowest level to the top of the heavens; for there is excellent music, excellent music, upon your mighty head, but only you make it so. ’Hamlet, do you think I am more to be played upon than a voice? Play upon me if you please, but you cannot hear me, you must play upon me.
' Polonius.
God bless you, hamlet.
POLONIUS.
My queen, my Queen will be with thee, and you.
HAMLET.
Do you see a weasel that’s almost the size of a camel?
POLONIUS.
Look at it, it ’s almost a camel too.
HAMLET.
But it looks like a weasel.
POLONIUS.
It does look like a weasel.
HAMLET.
More like a whale.
POLONIUS.
More like a whale.
HAMLET.
When will I come to my kingdom by and by.—You know me from the beginning of my life.—I will say by and by.
POLONIUS.
You will say by.
[Pause.]
HAMLET.
By and by is well known. Hear me, then.
[To all of Us.]
’Tis but the dark witching hour of night,
When men die, and death still breathes its
Way into the world. How shall I drink its blood,
And do its wicked deeds when the world
Is still to go on. Go now, to thy queen.
My queen, speak not thy name; let not let
The blood of Men stain thy thin garments:
Let it be natural, not unnatural.
I will say nothing to thee, and do nothing;
My heart and soul will not be afraid.
Let not the un of men pre me,
And let my heart consent, my queen, go.
[Pause.]

SCENE III. A night in the City.
The King, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
KING.
We know him not, nor is it wise of us
To know his true name. To aid him,
All of you shall be sent,
And i of Course go along with you.
The peace of your majesty will not be
Kept so from him as he may get
Out of his way.
GUILDENSTERN.
We call him god.
What moral and spiritual duty it is
To keep so many mortal beings alive
To feed and rest upon your Majesty.
ROSENCRANTZ.
That great and mighty spirit is endowed
With all the powers and knowledge of the universe,
To protect it o ’er; and still lives
That spirit upon which must feed and rest
The souls of mortals. The spirit of god
Is not distant; but as a distance it carries
What’s within it with it. It is a great wheel
Stand’d on the summit of the highest mountain,
Upon whose many wheels a thousand small dwellings
Are stand’d and feed’d; and where it rests,
A des annexment, in which,
Lies the d’er spirit. Not once
Did the Crowd murmur, but with a great cheer.
KING.
Pray you, I pray you, for a safe journey;
For never be we safe from our ship,
Which often becomes too fleet-footed.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
You may join us.
[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
To Polonius.
POLONIUS.
My liege, he’s gone into his mother’s house.
To lady constance I’ll bring her
To see him there. I’m sure she’ll take him kindly,
For as was said, and as is still said,
’Tis best that any woman other than his mother,
Whose vanity makes her mad, should ne’er
Make use of him. Fare thee well, my liege,
I’ll call on thee before i go to him,
And tell him what I know.
KING.
Oh, but my lord.
[He Paused.]
Oh, this hand of death, it looks to me;
It bears a wr iron twist it’s,—
My brother’s blood! How could It not,
It must be as quick as death:
My own weakness and its own strength,
And, like a rope being pulled and pulled,
I pause and wonder where I should first look,
And find mercy. For if this evil hand
Is stronger than that of brother’s blood,
Is there not water enough in the high mountains
To make it white as snow? What is mercy
But to see the hand of evil?
And what’s a mercy but a fearful doom,
To be seen as i am to fall,
And see’em look up? And They’ll look up.
My time is done. But Then, what words of mercy
Will be my salvation? Forgive me this terrible crime!
It must be; for I am now pardon’d
By the crown for which I committed this crime,—
The king, my kin kin, and the church.
Can i be pardon’d for all o’them?
In the wr state of the world
God’s right hand is washed in blood,
And thus ’tis that the holy spirit car
Carries out the act. But ’tis not god himself;
There is no spirit, and the blame is
In our own hands, and we are confess’d
Even to the lips and ears of the innocent,
To be the guilty. What rests? Who rests?
Yet only god rests. How can he rest?
And how can one, if one does not?
O wretched body! O soul swift as lightning!
O poor spirit, though proud to be righteous,
Is now confess’d! Come, come! Come now:
Hands, and feet; o hands like bands of iron,
And feet like those of a new-born child.
All shall be well.
[Bows and waits.]
From P.
HAMLET.
How can I do this man, when he is dead.
And so He’ll don’t. And so he sends to heaven;
And so am I reveng’d. It shall be confess’d:
A man killed my father, and asked that
I, his only son, whom the lord might send
To heaven. No, this is hatred of god, not love.
He killed my father himself, out of love,
And made his son his servant, so far as Possible;
And where the lord goes, who can enter it?
And by this thought and another evil thought,
’Tis done with him. And am I again confess’d,
To aid him in the redemption of his soul,
When he is bound and bound’d in the abyss? No.
Come, mother, i have had one more rep hent:
When he is fast asleep; or in a dream,
Or in th’vain comfort of his bed,
Gr angry, angry; or in an anger
That has the hope of redemption isn’t,
I release him, that his heart may beat in peace,
And that his soul may be so damned’d and damned
To hell, so he is. But he lives.
Thy death only ends thy long life.
[Exit.]
The Sun rises and sets.
KING.
My thoughts go above, my words go below.
And my soul goes to hell forever.
[Exit.]

SCENE IV. A night in the Woods.
The Queen and Polonius.
POLONIUS.
He has gone mad. May you come out to him,
Tell him his pranks have become too much to deal with,
And that thy Father hat int’d have come so
Soon you left him. He’ll find himself e’er again.
May you run away from him.
HAMLET.
[Exit.] Mother, mother, come.
QUEEN.
I’ll tell you, Doubt me not.
Yes, I see you coming.
[Polonius disappears into the darkness.]
Prince Hamlet.
HAMLET.
Mother, mother, what’s the matter?
QUEEN.
Hamlet, thou have my father much offended.
HAMLET.
Hamlet, thou have my father much offended.
QUEEN.
Come, come, you question with an evil tongue.
HAMLET.
Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.
QUEEN.
Well, what now, Prince?
HAMLET.
What’s the matter now?
QUEEN.
Have you forgotten me?
HAMLET.
No, by the way, not forgotten.
You are my Wife, my brother’s brother’s wife,
And, if that is not enough. You are my queen.
QUEEN.
Well, now I’ll show it to you you shall see.
HAMLET.
Come, come, i set you up, you will see it.
But fear not for I set you in a place
Where you shall see the deepest part of it.
QUEEN.
What art thou then? Thou art to see it?
What, ho, ho!
POLONIUS.
[Draws.] Ho, ho! help, help, help!
HAMLET.
What is? The king? [Follows.]
Dead as a tree, queen!
[Makes a run for the door.]
POLONIUS.
[Draws.] Queen, I am queen!
[Screams and runs.]
QUEEN.
Tell me, what hast thou done?
HAMLET.
Queen, I have done. is it the King?
[Calls to Polonius.]
QUEEN.
Oh what a bad and bloody deed is this!
HAMLET.
A bad deed. Not so bad, dear lady,
To kill a king and sleep with his wife.
QUEEN.
To kill a king?
HAMLET.
Nay, queen, ’tis thy fortune.—
[To Polonius.] You foolish, vain, foolish woman, queen!
I beg you take it away. For thy fortune,
I dar’st to be sure there be no more.—
A clap of the hand. Queen, sit yourself down,
And let me have thy fortune, and so I will,
Though it be made of good gold;
For i should have once esteem’d it away,
For it be shield and sword and treasure.
QUEEN.
What have I done, that thou can’t hold thy tongue
And be so bold with me?
HAMLET.
O an act
That blurs the veil and veil of virtue,
And as such, tears away the hair
From the very face of thy true love,
And leaves a scar there. O such acts
Are known as lovers’ tears. O such a deed
That in the midst of death plucks
The true heart, and in it blossoms
The love of life. Thou’s face doth tremble,
And with fear and rev fear,
Thy proud heart, set for thy duty,
Is heart-broken by this act.
QUEEN.
Tell me, what deed,
That is so terrible, that is worth so much?
HAMLET.
Behold is thou a man, standing like one,
The con being of thy husband.
And such a man was standing upon thy mount,
Heaven’s mount, in imitation of God himself,
An arm like One, to guide and protect,
A face like a sun That
Was shining upon a sun-kissed land:
A face of great beauty indeed,
For such beauty would serve to be a man,
And make the whole being of a man.
Here is thy husband. Tell me of what is.
Here is thy husband, and thy flesh’s flesh
Is his own flesh. Have you eyes?
Have you seen the wild beasts come to life,
And dwell upon the earth? No! have you heard?
You may call it madness; for at this time
Of the-world where the beast is born, it’s mad,
And depends upon your judgment: and what madness
Would come from you than sense? Be what you are,
And may well well be mad; be mad when it
Is command’d, for it did not have
The power of and was ne’er in order’d
Until it find’d the power of reason
To make it make a choice. What madness isn’t
That which hath order’d it to be-made?
Hearing without sight, sight without ears,
Hearing without ears without smelling, and not all,
For even the smallest need for a good smell
Is not a madness. O hamlet! where is thy wisdom?
O hamlet,
If thou find wisdom in the wolf’s teeth,
O hamlet will thy wisdom burn like frost,
And die in its own heat. Have no fear
That thy own reason is in flames,
But reason is all that can be,
And it always is.
QUEEN.
O Queen, speak no more.
I have’d my eyes to my own bed,
And now I see only dust and black shadows
That will not lose their light.
HAMLET.
Oh, how i lay
In the cold corner of my own bed,
Sleep’d with you, laughing and making love
In your little room.
QUEEN.
Now speak to me no more;
For words will not be in your mouth;
No more, o Queen.
HAMLET.
A liar and a thief;
A kingdom that will not be worth the crown
Of a high king. A king of kings,
A king of the law and his word,
Took from the king the royal he held
And put them in his place!
QUEEN.
No more.
HAMLET.
A king of kings is dead!—
A King.
Take wings and fly o’er me with your wings,
O high king! What of thy father now?
QUEEN.
Oh, he’s dead.
HAMLET.
Have you not taught thy own heart a rule,
Which, expo’s the pride of it, must be made
An out part of thy own heart?
I have!
GHOST.
Do not speak. Thy voice
Is beginning to lose its ever present strength.
O queen, look where thy heart lies.
Never stand between her and thy own heart.
Even the weak and frail cannot.
Speak to her, Prince.
HAMLET.
How is it with you, prince?
QUEEN.
Prince, how isn’it with you,
That you do keep an eye on her,
And that your very eyes do not tremble?
Look into her and your eye will tremble,
And, like the dead man in the woods,
Your fine limbs, like worms and flies,
Spring up and meet your heart. My dear prince,
Let the blood and tears of the heart
Be your tears. How do i tremble?
HAMLET.
On him, upon him! Show him how when he fell,
His arms would be brace’s, and his blood,
Would be his blood.—Do not look at me,
For by your own eyes you see
The same thing. For all You have to see
Is the same thing; a blood of two.
QUEEN.
To whom do you show it?
HAMLET.
Do you see it all?
QUEEN.
Not at all; but all there is To see.
HAMLET.
And do you not know?
QUEEN.
No, none of it.
HAMLET.
Oh, see it all! see how he goes now!
My son, in his madness that he utter’d!
See how he goes right back there through the door.
[A Pause.]
QUEEN.
Madness is the very essence of the world.
A beautiful thing it
Is to live in.
HAMLET.
Mother!
My heart of love dot to the music,
And is a beautiful thing. It is my madness
That I have sing’d. Put it to the music,
And Then the music would sing-sing; my madness
To sing with. Mother, my goddess of love,
Speak not that of sin in your heart
And in your mind, for my madness cannot.
I am the root of all this vile sin,
And my madness, like it all,
Is evil. Take me to heaven,
Forget what’s past, and what is to come;
And do not put thy hands upon thy breasts,
And make them sore. Give me back my breasts;
For for the sake of thy love the
Man born of them may well be,
Well, blessed indeed if thou desire to make them sore.
QUEEN.
O Lover, thou hast broken my heart with thee.
HAMLET.
Now take away the good half of me,
And take the trouble of the evil half.
Good queen. And go now to thy husband’s bed.
Such is well, if ye know it well.
The wicked man, of what he doth think,
Of the devil, is happy only in knowing,
That by the virtue of being pure and good
He never desires the crown of evil
That he has put on. Drink wine,
And it will give a measure of merit
To the first drink. The second is better;
And the wine will have the force of god,
And either bind the devil, or bring him forth
With great power. Once more, good night,
And if ye are not to be pardon’d,
I’ll again hear from ye. From the good lady
[Addressed to Me.]
I must be; for satan hat hat’d me before,
And cursed me with this, and cursed upon me,
And I will be his servant and slayer.
I will serve him, and will fare him
The power I owe him. Once more, good lady.
I cannot be cruel, but can be kind:
The good part, while evil remains evil.
One thing only, my queen.
QUEEN.
What shall I do?
HAMLET.
All that, by all means, that I let him know:
Let the good Lord take you back to him,
Kiss you on the lips, call you a whore,
And let him, with a pair of wet hands,
And then on your neck with his wet’wet lips,
Tell you to let all the water flow,
For I that is mad in nature,
And mad in thought. ’Tis that i let him know,
That i that’s not a man, fair, honest, and,
As from a bird, from a bird, a bird,
A bird to whom? Who would say so?
You, a woman of beauty and virtue,
In the basket on the mountain’s side,
Where the birds live, and in the basket you,
A sw sw, break the basket down
And break your own heart down.
QUEEN.
Have i seal’d, that i am breath of breath,
Not breath of life, And have no need to hear
What thou hast said unto me.
HAMLET.
I belong to Thee, you know that?
QUEEN.
Oh,
I almost forgot. ’Tis still going on.
HAMLET.
Queen’s words are’d: o my dear friends,
Whom I will count and Whom the count is’d,—
Must sweep my way, they must sweep my way
And carry me to safety. Make them so;
For ’tis no good to let a man
Go to his own doom, for ’t will be nothing
But Who who go the wind to the clouds
And fling stones to the earth. Indeed, ’tis so sad,
For only one or two men shall remain.
One man will send me away.
He’ll lead me away to my secret place.
Oh, good lord. Indeed, my son
Is the most secret, most secret, the most secret,
And is in fact a sc peating wizard.
Come, children, i must make my peace with you.
Good night, gentlemen.
[To Sc sc sc Wizard.]

ACT IV

SCENE I. A room in the Palace.
The King, Queen, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
KING.
What’s written on the wall. What is written
We cannot read. ’tis how i found you.
Where is my son?
QUEEN.
Hold your magic for just a little longer.
[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, now look out.]
Oh, my sweet child, what have You done now!
KING.
How, How? How is This?
QUEEN.
Mighty are the sun and moon, we must see
Who is the sun. From the dark shadows
Of the room sees a rat,
Pulls out a knife, cries ‘A rat, a rat!’
And with a single stroke kills
The good kind hearted man.
KING.
A foul rat!
He had been here with us, had always been here.
Your heart is full of kindness to him;
To him alone, to me, to you.
Now, how can this foul rat be kill’d?
It must have belonged to you, and you
Must have loved it, love’d, loved most dear to
This good hearted man. For so great was your love
You could not do what was thought right,
And kill the victim of this foul rat,
And prevent it from dying, lest it die
Again in the name of god. Where has he gone?
QUEEN.
To tear up his heart he is weep’d,
O’er him his own heart, like an ore
Or a lump of raw flesh,
Is not enough. He weeps at what is lost.
KING.
Polo Now, go now!
The end no more in the beginning is
That we must kill polo now, for this vile creature
We kill with all our strength and with
All hope and mercy.—Come, Gertrude!
Re-uniting Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
You see, i pray you for no more polo:
For in battle hath He died,
And in his father’s blood hath blood kill’d him.
So cast him down, my friends, and take his body
To the sea. I pray you well for this.
[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
Come, Gentlemen, we’ll call upon our old friends,
And let them know of what we have to do
And what’s been done, and of hamlet,
Whose eyes o’er the castle’s walls,
As well as the window of the chamber,
Where the king’s sleeping, will shout my name,
And stir the night awake. Hamlet, go away!
My heart is full of fear and despair.
[Pause.]

SCENE II. A commotion in the Hall.
Lord Hamlet.
HAMLET.
They arrive.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
[Pause.] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!
HAMLET.
What now? Who calls you Lord? Ah, here they are.
Lords Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
ROSENCRANTZ.
What have you done, my lord, with my dead body?
HAMLET.
Covered it with tar, and ’tis gone.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Tell us where ’tis, and we will take it up,
And take it to the king.
HAMLET.
Do not believe me.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Believe you?
HAMLET.
Then I shall take your life, but not your body. Ah, what you think of a son—what man can be killed by the hand of the king?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Have you come across a corpse, my lord?
HAMLET.
Ay, yes; it fills with the King’s money, his food, his drink. But these things do the King no good in the end: he keeps you, like an apple, in the corner of his mouth; open mouth, to be easily seen: when he tastes what you have done, he cannot dev from you, and, soon, he will be whole again.
ROSENCRANTZ.
I tell you nothing, my lord.
HAMLET.
I am sure of it. A foolish ear is only a foolish ear.
ROSENCRANTZ.
My lord, you must tell us where the body is and come with us to the King.
HAMLET.
The body is with the King, but the King is not with the body. The Body is a thing—
GUILDENSTERN.
A thing, my lord!
HAMLET.
But come. Take us to him. The body, and the king.
[Pause.]

SCENE III. A night in the Woods.
The King, hamlet.
KING.
We are sent to see him and to see the body.
How sad is it that this man is dead!
Why should not we put a new face on him:
He’s rid’d by th ' lords,
And judged not by their hands, but their eyes;
And if ’s not, th’lord’s justice be fair’d,
But by his own. To us all wise men alike,
The king casting s judgment does not
Give justice. And men judged
By his hand are fair’d,
Or not at all.
Hamlet Ii.
And now? What hath kill’d?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Where his dead body is kill’d, my lord,
I shall hear of it.
KING.
And where is he?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Ah, my lord, ah, i await thy answer.
KING.
Bring him to me.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Come, Guildenstern! Come to my king.
To Shakespeare and Hamlet.
KING.
Oh, Hamlet, where’s Thou?
HAMLET.
At supper.
KING.
At supper? Where?
HAMLET.
Not where he is, but where he has been. A great host of fat men eats e’er of you. Your king is the great host of men. You eat for nothing but to feed yourselves, and to feed yourself with food. Your fat king and your fat king eat at one table,—many tables, but at one table. That’s the way.
KING.
Alas, no!
HAMLET.
A king may eat of the worm that hath fed of that fish, and not of the fish that hath fed of that worm.
KING.
What art thou doing with me?
HAMLET.
Nothing but to show you that a king may eat his way through the streets like a worm.
KING.
Where is He?
HAMLET.
In town. Go there and look. If you shall find him not there, find him o’ er’er for yourself. And hamlet, if you find him not there at all, you shall see him when you go up the hill to the castle.
KING.
[Ex part Of.] Then leave him there.
HAMLET.
He shall remain till you return.
[Ex Part.]
KING.
Hamlet, thy majesty, for thy own good,—
As we are weary, and we all weary
Of that which thou hast done,—we seek thee out
With all hearts. But know this;
The sun is high, and the moon is high,
It’s fair, and all is well
In England.
HAMLET.
In England?
KING.
Yes, England.
HAMLET.
Hamlet.
KING.
What is thou, when thou o’er sees them.
HAMLET.
I am the one who sees them. Come, king; for England! Come, my king.
KING.
My dear king, Hamlet.
HAMLET.
My king. King and queen are man and wife; man and wife are one being; not thou, but i. Come, for England.
[Hamlet.]
KING.
Meet him on land. Meet him with your love;
Fear not him; You’ll meet him there again.
Come, before all is eat’d be and
All is done with y’ll. May he make peace.
[From Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
For England, as in england thou know’t know it,—
Though the great beauty there may give it away,
And though thy flesh is white and white
As the White snow, and thy heart still
Pay homage to him,—thou mayst by letter save
Thy own heart, and know in it,
By letter written to that letter,
The true love of God. Know it, Englishman;
For in me and in my heart it is,
And it shall keep me. For I know ’t it,
Ne’er i lived, my days have ne’er been.
[Pause.]

SCENE IV. A castle in Denmark.
King Frederick has Been captured.
FORTINBRAS.
Come, Captain, let us see the Danish king.
Tell him that in his heart, He
Has the wish of us who’ll rule
Over his kingdom. You are my captain.
Now if his Majesty has agreed with us,
We will do our duty in his name;
And let him do it.
CAPTAIN.
We need don’t, my friend.
FORTINBRAS.
Come now gentlemen.
[To all but the King.]
To Hamlet, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern &company.
HAMLET.
Dear sir, what men are these?
CAPTAIN.
They are from Poland, sir.
HAMLET.
They fight’t, sir, What say you?
CAPTAIN.
From some part of Poland.
HAMLET.
Who sent you, sir?
CAPTAIN.
We go to invade Norway, Sir.
HAMLET.
Is it for the sake of Peace, sir,
Or for the king?
CAPTAIN.
So to wit, and for the king,
We are to take a small piece of land
That has on it no name but a name.
To save twenty ducats, sir, We will not sell it;
Nor will we give to You and your Men
The market price, lest it be taken in vain.
HAMLET.
Well, then the King himself will have it.
CAPTAIN.
Sir, it is ex i’t.
HAMLET.
Twenty thousand names and twenty thousand men
Will not be a part of this war!
It is an’end of all war and peace,
The peace lasts, and has no end in
Which no one dies. I will have it, captain.
CAPTAIN.
I won’ t’ t, sir.
[Pause.]
ROSENCRANTZ.
Won’t let me go, my lord?
HAMLET.
I’ll go with you now. Or a time soon.
[To none of Them.]
They will not stand up to me,
And take their own life. What is a man
When the whole day and night of his life
Is mine to protect and defend? The lord, no doubt.
But he who raised us to this great place,
And before and after, gave us all
The wisdom and the courage
That is in us know’d. And whether it be
His will, or his own fault
In looking so long at t’thought,—
A thought that, know’d, is now one part fool
And yet two parts fool,—I do not know
And yet I have to do this that’s to do,
And I have wisdom, and courage, and will, and strength
To do’it. And do not but watch then,
As an army of men rise and fall,
Led by a young and mighty man,
Whose mind, with great fore know’d,
Grasp hard at some great problem,
Of which is clear and simple
Is it that life, death, and destruction await,
But on an island. And to be angry
Is not to argue some great point,
But rather to hu up like a coward
When he’s at the bottom. Why am I angry,
To see a father kill’d, a mother kill’d,
Stripped of my flesh and my blood,
And lost to all, when to my eye I see
The glorious glory of a thousand men
Who, with the fame and glory of war,
Take to their beds their dead, all in a land
Where great men will aid their enemies,
But will not find graves or caves
To bury their dead? Why, from this day forward,
My will will do and give me strength.
[Pause.]

SCENE V. I. A scene in a Castle.
A Queen, Herself with a Guest.
QUEEN.
I will not speak of her.
GENTLEMAN.
She is sad, and lonely.
Her weak heart must be broken.
QUEEN.
What does she say?
GENTLEMAN.
She speaks not of her kingdom; for she knows
What’s in o’ er’ er, and hems, and in her mouth,
Laughs not of it, and is in words,
Which make only little sense. Her voice means nothing,
But her mere sound of it would cause
The men to laugh; and laugh at her,
And make her make them come to their own thoughts,
For, when she smiles, and laughs, and laughs at them,
It would make them think what could be done,
But not better, and not worse.
’Tis better words than words now, that we have such
Great conjectures in well-formed thoughts.
QUEEN.
Let us go now.
[Sings Again.]
In a guilty heart, whatever one’s true love is,
It always leads one to a terrible end.
So full of bitter truths and lies,
It spills blood without mercy to be saved.
Lady Ophelia.
OPHELIA.
What is this in Praise of Me?
QUEEN.
What song, Lady?
OPHELIA.
[Sings.]
   What shall Make my true love different
     From this one?
   With his golden crown and sword
     And his golden heart.
QUEEN.
Oh, my lady, what is this song?
OPHELIA.
Pray you? Oh, pray you queen.
[Sings.]
   He is dead and gone, oh,
     He is dead and gone,
   On his back green grass and clover,
     On his head a crown.
QUEEN.
Oh, my Lady—
OPHELIA.
Pray you queen.
[Sings.]
   With a heart like a falling star.
The King.
QUEEN.
Oh, come in, o king!
OPHELIA.
[Sings.]
     Fill me with thy love;
   And then to the sea i go
     With thy-hearted heart.
KING.
How are you, my lady?
OPHELIA.
Oh, How are you! They say that i am the king’s daughter. Well, they say that we are, but know not that we shall be. To be at your window!
KING.
Look at your window.
OPHELIA.
Mind you, they’ll have no idea of it; but if they tell you what it is, tell them this:
[Sings.]
   It was Saint Mary’s day,
     And in the morning came,
   And Put a man at your window,
     To see your Daughter.
   And when he came and put’d his sword,
     And open’d the little girl,
   Put away the sword, and like a man
     He no more.
KING.
Oh La!
OPHELIA.
Oh la, like a man, I’ll put an end to’t.
[Sings.]
   By Mary and by Your Father,
     King, a place of rest!
   But i will warn’em if they come to’em;
     Oh La, you are to know.
   And once, when you loved me,
     You wish’d me to die.
   What would I ha’ done, under the sun,
     If you had not come to my rescue.
KING.
How long has it been here?
OPHELIA.
I know all will be well. You must be well. But I could not but despair, to think you would tell me o’ th’ barren place. My father must know of it. And so I thank you for your wise counsel. Goodnight, my queen! Good night, gentlemen; good night, my queen; good night, my queen.
[Pause.]
KING.
Hold her close; give her a little, I beg you.
[Pause Again.]
Gertrude, this is the cause of her sorrow; it is
Sprung from her father’s hand. Oh Yes, King,
The troubles come, they come not in one,
But in many. First, her father dead;
Second, her brother dead; and the king the victim
Of his own wicked hand; the people crying,
Fearful now and then of their cries and cries
Of op Parents’ death; and they have nothing but fear
The hugger-king and hate him. And Gertrude
Suffers for herself by no other means,
Except by saying they are slaves and his servants.
Third, in as many ways as all three,
Her brother has a wife far from Home,
And loves no one, loves only the king,
And has his wife to fill his ears
With the news of their brother’s death,
And we, no longer beggar’s,
Have her upon our heads to whisper
To eye and ear. And my dear Queen, she,
Reduced to a single word, in many ways
Brings us all joy.
[A voice speaks.]
QUEEN.
Lord, what trouble is this?
KING.
Where are the Guards? Let them open the door.
And a Gentleman.
What is the trouble?
GENTLEMAN.
Introduce yourself, my lord.
The king, weary of the road,
Has crossed the land with more reckless abandon
Than king Himself, with a bald head,
Ne’er shave it. The people call him king,
And, if the day were not about to come,
They say, if not so,
Choose we and out of this room,
They shout ‘Choose we! Laertes shall be king!’
Arms, hands, and voices make out of the room,
‘Laertes shall be king, Choose we.’
QUEEN.
Queen and on the walls outside they read.
Danes, it is you, the great Old king.
[A voice speaks.]
KING.
The rules are broken.
Come In, now; Come in.
LAERTES.
Who is the king?—King, are we not invited.
Danes.
Come, let’s come in.
LAERTES.
I beg you, let us in.
DANES.
We will, we will.
[A voice opens the door.]
LAERTES.
I beg you. Open the door. If you are king,
Make you my queen.
QUEEN.
Good, good Queen.
LAERTES.
Every drop of blood that’s spilled makes me weak;
A traitor to my people, and a liar
Standing there upon the last dead body
Of my beloved father.
KING.
What is thy fault, Laertes,
That thy king is so god-like?—
Let him go, Man. Do not poison his blood.
It’s why he is not a king,
And i could not see to whom he belonged,
So weak is his spirit.—Tell me, Laertes,
Why thou art so fool’d.—Let him go, Man:—
Yes, yes.
LAERTES.
Where is thy king?
KING.
King.
QUEEN.
Ruled only for me.
KING.
Let him drink his blood.
LAERTES.
Why is he king? I’ll not be done yet.
To you, king! Love, to the blackest pit!
Love and hate, to the profoundest pit!
I am king. At this place I rule,
In all the world, I swear to thee,
And to whom else; that I’ll be kill’d
Mer mercy of my enemies.
KING.
Who will kill you?
LAERTES.
None else, in all the world.
But by all means, I’ll kill them so well,
They will go away a coward.
KING.
Now Then,
If you want to know the cause
Of your own father’s death, won’t it be your hope
That, together, we shall be both friend and foe,
King and foe?
LAERTES.
None but my enemies.
KING.
Do you kill them all?
LAERTES.
And as my death draws near They’ll fill your hands;
And, like a thousand thousand-pound bricks,
Coat them with my blood.
KING.
Well, if i say
As a true king and a true foe.
That I am aware of my father’s death,
And am not lost in sorrow over it,
I am as blind to thy enemies ’blood
As i am to thy own.
DANES.
[Pause.] Let us go now.
LAERTES.
Go now! What madness is this?
Re-dressed Me, and me with straws and straw.
Summer rain, burn out my hair. And winter and snow,
Burn out the light and color of my eyes.
O heavens, this debt shall be paid in vain,
Lest the heavens destroy the earth. O maid of Love!
Dear sister, dear sister, sweet Sister!
O heavens, isn’t that a young man’s life
Shall be as short as an old man’s life?
All is good in nature, and when ’s not,
Nature puts a little piece of fire
In every man she meets.
OPHELIA.
[Ii.]
   I saw him rain’d on his grave,
   No more nonny, no, no more
   And on his grave rain’d not a word.—
   Fare thee well, sweet sister!
LAERTES.
Thin thin my heart, thou thin my heart,
I shall not live long.
OPHELIA.
You still say ‘He a-down, but i saw him a-n-up.’ Oh, how the devil is this! This is the poor fool who killed his brother’s wife.
LAERTES.
Sometimes there’s more than one.
OPHELIA.
There’s roses, that’s for remembrance; for remembering, remember. And there are flowers, that’s for thoughts.
LAERTES.
Sometimes even in life, thoughts and remembrance meet.
OPHELIA.
There’s roses for you, and remember. There’s some for you; and there’s some for me. You may call it flowers of rue d’ Amour. But you may call it roses with a rose. There’s a violet. I would give you my violets, but they weren’t there when my husband died. They said he had a bad heart.
[Sings.]
   A little violet Here for all our love.
LAERTES.
Sickness and death, hell, death as
It is to beauty and to madness.
OPHELIA.
[Sings.]
   And will he not come back?
   And will he not come back?
     No, no, he is gone,
     Gone to his death-bed,
   And never will come back.
   His hair was as white as snow,
   And so was his face.
     He is gone, he is gone,
     And i am with him.
   I beg’ d for his return.
Lord of my Poor soul, I beg You. I beg’ d’ d.
[Sings.]
LAERTES.
Do you hear me, My King?
KING.
Lord, I must go to my lord,
Lest he judge me wrong. All that remains,
The rest of it the gods if they will,
And they will judge and punish ’d you and i.
Whether by god or by human law
They judge and punish’d, you and your brother king,
Our soul, our body, and all that we call up
To them for judgment; and if not,
Be more willing to give your body to us,
And we will gladly part with your soul
And give you to you.
LAERTES.
Let it be heard;
His song of death, death of song,—
No bow, bow, no bowing o’er his body,
Nor solemn homage, nor pious homage,—
Is to be heard, if ’t from heaven or hell,
Then We shall be’er without thee.
KING.
Indeed we shall.
And where thou’er go shall the sinn shall go.
I bid thee come to me.
[Chorus.]

SCENE VI. A room in a Palace.
Enter Horatio and his Servant.
HORATIO.
Who are you that would come to me?
SERVANT.
Servants, sir. They say they have come to me.
HORATIO.
Let them come too.
[Second Chorus.]
I do not know from what part of the palace
I shall be coming, certainly not from This Room.
The Servant.
FIRST SAILOR.
I bless thee, sir.
HORATIO.
Let him bless thee too.
FIRST SAILOR.
I pray, sir, don’t wake up. There’s a letter for you, sir. It is from the’ship that is bound for England; and its name is Horatio, so I will come to where it is.
HORATIO.
[Chorus.] ‘Now, if thou would not mind me, give these men of mine to the King. They have sent for me. When we were ten years old at sea, a party of the french fleet gave us chase. Finding them too short to catch, i took up my own ship, and at the last Moment pursued them. At that time they got hold of my ship, and I soon became their prisoner. They have been treating me with want of mercy. If i do as they ask; I hope to have a better life with them. Let the King read the letters They have written, and bring them to thee with as much haste as he can without delay. To have them all whispered to thy mind will make thee happy; nor are they made too happy by the severity of the circumstances. These good men will tell you who I am. Rosencrantz and I set a sail for England: tell them I have much to tell them. Chorus.
     Now that thou knows me,
     FAREWELL.’
Tis, I will show the king with me these letters,
But isn’t it better, that you must introduce me
To him to whom thou gave them.
[Chorus.]

SCENE VII. A night in the Forest.
The King is Waiting.
KING.
Now in your mind your heart speaks,
And you have taken me into your arms as well,
For you have heard, and with a keen eye,
That deed which by my own will has
Save’d my life.
LAERTES.
It so so. Now tell me
That you are powerless against these things,
So evil and so evil in themselves,
That for your knowledge, and, for nothing else,
You never have save’d yourself.
KING.
Yes, for these are things,
Which may to you, perhaps, be so save’d,
And yet to me they are not. The Star my beloved
Knows only by her light; and to me,—
My love or my life, be it either one,—
It’s so dear to my heart and soul,
That, though the world is not yet in her light,
I know nothing less of her. The other star,
Where as a poor man He could not see,
Was the great love his beloved would give him,
Who, for all the years of his life,
Would make the wind that turned him to stone,
And his heart to stone; so that his arrows,
Un wi aim’d in so great a fashion,
Would come back to my heart again,
And go where I had aim’d before.
LAERTES.
And now have I a son long dead,
A daughter cast on my way,
Whose beauty, when she did come back again,
Would call the praise of all the gods
To her name. And my time has come.
KING.
Fear not the gods for this. You do not know
That we are made of stones so cold and hard
That we must let our hearts be filled with joy,
And let our voices. And you will hear them.
We love’d your majesty, and we love you,
And we, I promise, will bring you joy again—
By a Word.
What words? What words?
MESSENGER.
This, my lord, from Me.
This to your Majesty; this to your King.
KING.
Ala Gods! Who sent them?
MESSENGER.
I, my lord, cannot say; I know it all.
They were given them by Him. He tell’d it
Was he who sent them.
KING.
Yes, you can have them.
Take them.
[The Voice.]
[Hamlet.] ‘High and mighty, you shall see I am here spying in your palace. Nor shall I take leave to evade your curious eyes. But I shall, without asking your acc permission, recount the tale of your more and more frequent visits.
     KING.’
What does this mean? Have all the ghosts come back?
Or is there only one, or no such one?
LAERTES.
Have you seen him?
KING.
’Says It’s me. ’Alone!’
As in the story where he said ‘alone.’
Do you hear him?
LAERTES.
I am lost to you, my lord. But seeing him again,
It is a great hope in my heart
That He will return and tell me through his voice,
‘Where art thou.’
KING.
If it be so, Then,—
And why should it be so? Or not?—
Will he be return’d to me?
LAERTES.
Yes, my lord;
And he will surely o’errule me to my peace.
KING.
To my own peace. If he is ru l’d,
And is on his way, so that he needs
No help to do so, I shall leave him
To die, and die by my hand,
By that hand he shall not rise nor fall;
And in his body no air shall breathe,
And only his breath shall make it still
And make it whole.
LAERTES.
My lord, I shall be rul’d;
Or die if i can make it so
That I may do so again.
KING.
You are wise.
You have been praise’d ever in your own tongue,
And ever in Everyone’s tongue, with that face
That i see so well. The best of men
Could not have received such part of service
As was this one, and worthy, in that part,
Of the great glory.
LAERTES.
What glory is that, my lord?
KING.
A red feather upon the brow of youth,
And death too, and death no more by
The dirty and worn garment that he wore
That covered all his flesh and his bones,
His age and youth. Many years ago
He was a knight in Battle,—
I’ve seen against, and fight’d with, the French,
As i know it on record, and so he
Was one of’em. He rode from his castle,
And with a great cheer mounted his horse,
As if he had fight’d and re-fight’d
With the great french. So much so it’s a pity
That All this talk of lies and folly,
Falls because of what he was.
LAERTES.
A Norman wasn’t?
KING.
A Norman.
LAERTES.
Saved my life, Sir.
KING.
The very name.
LAERTES.
I know him well. He is the greatest warrior
And knight in all his time.
KING.
He was fond of you,
And gave you such a good training
Of sword and lance for your arm,
And for your head most especially,
That he reckon that ’d be a miracle man
If he could save you. The king of a kingdom
Where men could neither see, hear, nor speak,
Unless he kill’d them. Indeed, this kingdom of his
Own Was so filled with his children
That he could not help but go and see
Them all gather e’d them all to death.
Now, out of this,—
LAERTES.
Get out of what, my king?
KING.
Laertes, was your father true to you?
Or are you seeing a face without a face,
A heart without a heart?
LAERTES.
I ask you this?
KING.
Not that I know you did not love your father,
But that I know love is measured in time,
And that I know, by way of measure,
Time is the measure and measure of love.
There is in the little bit of love
A bit of smoke and fire that will destroy it;
And there is in it a little death,
When one, due to a love,
Believes in his love too much. What we should do,
We should do what we would; but this ‘should’ is,
It is time to kill as soon
As there are arms, are arms, are arms;
And that this ‘should’ is is the little death
That comes with it. Death is the end i’ th’king:
He came back: how do you propose
To make him your king’s enemy in deeds,
Rather than in words?
LAERTES.
I cut his throat i’ th’ king.
KING.
No one, ever, should be killed;
It shall have no end. My dear Laertes,
When you hear news, keep it in your heart.
The gen’men will know you have come back:
They’ll swear that they will kill you all,
And put a red seal on the gifts
That He gives you, dress you in rags themselves
And put on your sword. They, being wise,
And honest, and free from any malice,
Will also make you gifts; so that with them,
And with a little practice, you may draw
Your sword again, and with a bit more practice,
Kill them and your king.
LAERTES.
I need don’t.
But for that sake I’ll draw my sword.
I have the heart of a creature
Of all kinds, and with a wound in it,
When it is fresh with blood and sweat,
And with the tears i can see
To the future, and see the way of all
That is ass and’d done. I’ll make a deal
With the king, and if I hurt him again,
It will be done.
KING.
Let’s not think on this,
But the resources required and ways of life
Should help us keep in line. If we do well,
See to it we get past this bad boy.
’S he is and’d. And the king
Will have his first and last, which would be
If you were not the king. Now, let us begin.
I’ll make a little play of my own,—
You don’t! For in my eyes you are wet and wet,
So make him even more wet on the head,
So when he asks to drink, I’ll be and’d with
The king for the drink; and that way,
Should he by chance take the and’d drink,
My eyes will be wet.
Sweet Queen.
What is, sweet Queen?
QUEEN.
For one must step on another’s feet,
And so must i. My king’s drown’d, Laertes.
LAERTES.
Drown’d! Oh, what?
QUEEN.
There where a tree did grow a branch,
He cast his dry leaves into the running brook.
There in her garden did she grow
Her water-lily, roses, daisies, and sweet purples,
Which the folk call a strange flower,
As the old men with old man’s eyes call it.
When from the tree did her dry leaves
O’er and fall, an old heart cried,
And then the queen turned and she
Fell into the running brook. Her arms were long,
And bird-like, and they drew her in,
And there she sang songs and sweet words,
Like a woman in her own time,
And like a queen loved and sang
In her sleep. And yet it would not end
Now that the gods, content with their fate,
Drown’d the poor woman in her own time
To her death.
LAERTES.
Well, now who is drown’d?
QUEEN.
Drown’d, drown’d.
LAERTES.
How full of heart art thou, my Lord,
And yet She wears no crown. And so
This is her custom; whatever the future brings,
I cannot say what it brings. When you are gone,
The fire will go out. But, my lord,
I heard the voice of god, that it will come,
And that i must stop it.
[Pause.]
KING.
Let’s see, Then;
How much I have to do to stop the fire!
I fear That i shall see it come out;
So let’s see.
[Pause.]

ACT V

SCENE I. The funeral.
The three Clowns with me, &i.
FIRST CLOWN.
Is she to be buried a Proper burial, unless she also seeks her own grave?
SECOND CLOWN.
I tell her she is, and i find the grave so. The clown who calls upon heaven, and finds a Proper grave.
FIRST CLOWN.
How can this be, unless she drowned herself in her own grave?
SECOND CLOWN.
Nay, ’tis not so.
FIRST CLOWN.
It cannot be an act, it must be done. But here is the law: if I drowned myself wittingly, it was an act: and an act has no end. It is an act, to do, not to die: therefore, she drowned herself herself.
SECOND CLOWN.
Nay, i beg you, sir sir,—
FIRST CLOWN.
Give me this. Here stands the man; good. Here stands the water; good. Will the man go into the water and drown himself, that is, if he goes in, he drown,—give me this. And will the water go into him and drown him, he is not guilty. Nay, he who is not guilty of his own death is taking his own life.
SECOND CLOWN.
What is the law?
FIRST CLOWN.
Law, law, on’t, it’s the law.
SECOND CLOWN.
Do ye ha’ no law on’t? If she had not been a christian, she would have been cast out an’ Denied herself.
FIRST CLOWN.
There, so ye on’t. All the more reason that no one should have been in the position to hang or hang any other than an old Gentleman. Ah, old gentleman. There were no old gentlemen except farmers, fishermen, and rope-makers: that made it Nobody’s business.
SECOND CLOWN.
Was adam a christian?
FIRST CLOWN.
He was the first who ever had one.
SECOND CLOWN.
No, he had none.
FIRST CLOWN.
Then, why a christian? And dost thou know the Answer? The Bible says Jesus arm’t. Did jesus die in sin? I’ll put the question to you. If thou desires it according to thy heart, know it—
SECOND CLOWN.
Not yet.
FIRST CLOWN.
Who is it that is stronger than either the blacksmith, the mason, or the carpenter?
SECOND CLOWN.
The gallows-frame; and that one weighs ten thousand pounds.
FIRST CLOWN.
And may thou know that in thy city, the gallows does well. And how does it do? It does well to those who are weak. Now, thou art right to say the gallows is not stronger than the frame; but, the frame will do well for it. Don’t come, then.
SECOND CLOWN.
Who is stronger than a blacksmith, a mason, or a carpenter?
FIRST CLOWN.
Now, give me this, to see.
SECOND CLOWN.
Well, that I cannot tell.
FIRST CLOWN.
Don’t.
SECOND CLOWN.
Well, I can tell.
Dig Again and Again, at a time.
FIRST CLOWN.
Use your tongue no more with digging, for a sore man will not keep his tongue from speaking; and when you are asked the word builder, say ‘the grave-builder’. The graves he make last till morning. Now, take this little Lad; give him a glass of water.
[To First Clown.]
[Sits and sings.]
   To know that I did love, did love,
     And it was so true;
   To know, A, my love me, a, o love,
     That once there was a love.
HAMLET.
Has this clown the name of his song, which he sang while grave-digging?
HORATIO.
He hath by birth in him the sense of sense.
HAMLET.
’Tis e’en true; the clown of the grave has the first name.
FIRST CLOWN.
[Laughs.]
   This clown of the grave he
     Hath cradle’d me into the sea,
   He hath laugh’d me into the sea,
     As if I had not been born.
[Holds up the skull.]
HAMLET.
This skull had a song in it, it did sing it. And this clown beat me into th’ ground, as if ’n Death’s hand, he was the first clown! This might be the name of a spirit like the one of ne’er-do, one that might be Heard, might it not?
HORATIO.
It might, my lord.
HAMLET.
Name of a spirit, that might say ‘Good lord, good lord! How art thou, my lord?’ This might be my lord such-a-one, that killed my lord such-a-one’s horse when he went to fetch it, might it not?
HORATIO.
Indeed, my lord.
HAMLET.
Aye, e’er did: and killed the Little Man’t; o, and went to fetch it with the lord’s horse. That’s the trick, and i saw the bones i didn’t. And the bones are the trick too for me to look for and see ’t? For me to look for’t.
FIRST CLOWN.
[Skull.]
   A spade is a spade, a spade,
     Spade is a bed-chamber;
   O, a pot of water ought to be enough
     Where such a spade would be.
[Picking up the skull.]
HAMLET.
Here’s another. And might be this case the work of a thief? Might be his tricks indeed, his cases, his cases, his cases, and his tricks? Why does he allow this poor fellow here to beat him about the head with a wooden stick, and then to rob him of the pot of water? O. This man will be tomorrow’s business a fine piece of work, in his cases, his tricks, his fines, his tax fines, his recoveries. Is it the payment of his fines, or the payment of his recoveries, to make a gold box out of this man? Will the baron give him no more for single bonds, and double bonds too, for the length and breadth of a series of bonds? The whole value of the estate can surely be in this box; and will the baron himself give no more, sir?
HORATIO.
Not a penny more, my lord.
HAMLET.
Is this box made of sheep-skins?
HORATIO.
Yes, my lord, and of calf-skins too.
HAMLET.
There are sheep and calves to put in all of them. I must speak with this man.—And what’s yours, sir?
FIRST CLOWN.
Yours, sir.
[Pause.]
   Horatio, a pot of gold is to be found
     Where such a box is found.
HAMLET.
I know it is yours now, yet thou lies in’t.
FIRST CLOWN.
I lie not in’t, sir, and therefore ’tis not mine.
For my part, I do not lie in’t, but it is mine.
HAMLET.
Thou must lie in’t, not lie in’t to whom it is given. ’Tis for the strong, not for the weak; thus thou art.
FIRST CLOWN.
’Tis a good thing, sir; ’tis given once more by me to you.
HAMLET.
What man dost thou give it to?
FIRST CLOWN.
For every man, sir.
HAMLET.
A clown only?
FIRST CLOWN.
For every man.
HAMLET.
Who is to be lied in’t?
FIRST CLOWN.
Once there was a woman, sir; now, bless her heart, she’s gone.
HAMLET.
And here the card is! We must go to the grave, or it will bury us. By the Way, Sir, in the time I have made use of it, the grass has been so long that the foot of the clown is nowhere near the foot of the day that was king hamlet.—How long hast thou been a card-player?
FIRST CLOWN.
In all the time o’ th’ day, It was wasn’t the day that was the King Hamlet o’the World.
HAMLET.
How long has it been?
FIRST CLOWN.
Can you tell that? Any clown can tell that. It was the same day that king Hamlet was captured,—one who was captured, was sent into England.
HAMLET.
Why, then, why was he sent into England?
FIRST CLOWN.
Why, because he is mad; he will lose his wits there; and if he does that, it’s a different man there.
HAMLET.
Mad?
FIRST CLOWN.
’Tis to be seen of him there; all other men are as mad as he.
HAMLET.
How is he there?
FIRST CLOWN.
How strangely, they say.
HAMLET.
How strangely?
FIRST CLOWN.
Strangely, e’s not lost his wits.
HAMLET.
On what island?
FIRST CLOWN.
Why, here in England. We have a tanner there, man and boy, for sale.
HAMLET.
How long will a tanner last o’ th’island before he die?
FIRST CLOWN.
Why, if he is not dead before he dies,—and we have some fine corses here that will not keep him dead long,—he will last you an eight year or nine year. A tanner will last a whole year.
HAMLET.
Is there more or less?
FIRST CLOWN.
Nay, no, his body is so busy’d for his work that it cannot draw any water a little longer. And the earth is a constant reminder of a long dead man. There’s a graveyard here; a body has lain in the earth two-and-half years.
HAMLET.
Who was it?
FIRST CLOWN.
The old, old clown’d it was. Who do you think it was?
HAMLET.
Oh, I think not.
FIRST CLOWN.
A shame of that for a young man! He smack’d a skull of His upon his back once. That old skull, horatio, was Yorick’s father, the King’s clown.
HAMLET.
Really?
FIRST CLOWN.
More’s pity.
HAMLET.
Let me see. [Minus the skull.] Oh, poor Horatio. I love you, Horatio, a man of fine taste, of an exquisite heart. He has carried it upon his back a thousand times; and oh, how vivid in the dark it is! His heart laughs at that. How sweet your heart that You have o’er And yet and yet yet. Where are your wits now? your thoughts? your feelings? the tears of fools, who are you to turn the tables with a man? This man horatio, to whom you are lost? Or half-lost? I send you to the queen’s court, and paint her, make her see that this favour, for this favour that has come. Make her laugh at that.—Now, Horatio, tell me one thing.
HORATIO.
What’s that, my lord?
HAMLET.
Did you say You knew o’ th ' heaven’ n’hell?
HORATIO.
E’en so.
HAMLET.
You say so? Ha!
[Throwing down the sword.]
HORATIO.
E’en so, my lord.
HAMLET.
To whose lo soil he shall return, Horatio! And might he not stop the rising dust of Earth lest he turn himself into a black-dog?
HORATIO.
’Tis a bit jo late to say so.
HAMLET.
Oh, no, not a late. Best to send it off with force now, with horatio to lead it; and hamlet. Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander turned to dust; for dust is earth; of it they make bread; and out of the earth as alexander turned dust might he not make a wine-glass?
And Alexander, buried and turn’d to dust,
Would make a wall to keep the winter out.
Soft, for the winter that keeps the winter out he
Would make a wall t’hide the winter’s entrance.
Not hard! not hard! hamlet! Here comes the Procession.
The king, &queen, the court; the ghost of Alexander, Priests and Musicians everywhere; King, Queen, court Attendants, &alexander.
The King, the queen. What ceremony do they have?
What are these funeral ceremonies? Hamlet i think
The king of macedonia died by the ex
Of his own hand. ’Tis of great importance.
Here comes hamlet and horatio.
[Hamlet and Mark.]
LAERTES.
What ceremony else?
HAMLET.
This is Hamlet, a very young boy. Hamlet.
LAERTES.
What ceremony else?
PRIEST.
Our orders have been so much command’d
That they are useless. Her virginity is lost;
And for no other reason w’er our orders,
She lies in this place and dry’d
Be her last rites. Stones and bricks,
Stones, bricks, and bricks would be thrown upon her.
But here she is receiving her last rites,
Her last prayers, and the final rites
Of death and resurrection.
LAERTES.
Will there no more be done?
PRIEST.
No more be done.
We shall enter the house of the virgin
And give such comfort and such love to her
As our twice-dead brother.
LAERTES.
To her o’ er’d,
And from her bruised and broken body
The sweet flowers. I promise thee, o hamlet,
What l’er flowers will thy love be
Where thou liest now.
HAMLET.
Thou, o sweet Maid?
QUEEN.
[Sweet flowers.] And to be queen. Hamlet.
I wish’d thou to have been king Arthur’s wife;
I wish thy bed-gown to be wear’d, sweet flowers,
And to be wear’d thy queen.
LAERTES.
Thou, o hamlet
Is at last set upon that very woman
Whose good will and her good heart
Avail’d me up. Cast upon the earth a woman,
Till I have held thee once more in my arms.
[Leaps into the grave.]
And spread thy wings upon the dead and dying,
Out of whose ashes the stars may be made,
As ne’er the Sun makes the great stars
Of mount Olympus.
HAMLET.
[Chorus.]
Who is it whose name
Is not the lord? whose voice of wisdom
Conjures the world’s dead, and makes them sing
To well-loved ones? It is I,
Claudius the Great.
[Leaps into the grave.]
LAERTES.
[Laughs at claudius.] The gods of thy kingdom!
HAMLET.
Thy heart’s not mine.
Let me take thy hand from thy heart;
For though I am un rash and foolish,
Yet have Bred in me a fear,
And in me a love. Take thy hands!
KING.
Tear them asunder.
QUEEN.
Hamlet! Hamlet!
Hamlet.
Hamlet!
HORATIO.
O my son, be silent.
[The Gods curse claudius, as they rise out of the grave.]
HAMLET.
Oh, I will sit with thee in thy bed
Until thy tail can no longer grow.
QUEEN.
O my son, what now?
HAMLET.
I lov’d Her; a thousand women
Could not, with all their tears of love,
Drink up her blood. What wilt thou do with her?
KING.
Oh, thou art weak, Weak.
QUEEN.
The gods of Old curse thee!
HAMLET.
’T, tell me what you’ll do:
Woul’t sing? woul’t dance? woul’t fight? woul’t kill animals?
Woul’t blow an organ? eat a cow?
I’ll don’t. Has she come here to die?
And join up with me in the afterlife?
Thou will die with her, and so will I.
And as the gods of old, let him burn
Instead of fall upon us, burn the earth,
Lay his head upon the cha cha,
And Die as a tree. Then, in thou’s absence,
He’ll die as well as i.
QUEEN.
This is not so:
And for now the muse will wait upon him;
Then, as surely as a mourning muse,
Now that the last words are speak’d,
Her head will be turned.
HAMLET.
Damn you, queen;
What is the matter that you tell me not?
I lov’d as well. But it is no matter.
He May now do what he likes,
But he will die, and he will have his rest.
[Pause.]
KING.
I bid you, sir Horatio, wait upon him.
[Sir Horatio.]
[To King]
Remember our words in the previous day’s conversation;
We’ll leave this subject to the wise men.—
And King, have a watch upon your grave.
Your grave will be a great place.
An age of sorrow here will we live;
And blessed will all of us be.
[Pause.]

SCENE II. The room in the Castle.
Between Hamlet and Horatio.
HAMLET.
So much of you, sir. Now let us tell each other;
You do remember of this scene?
HORATIO.
Remember it, my friend!
HAMLET.
Once, in my sleep there was a night of dreams
That would not let me wake. And They were
Worse than the night of the plague. Ah,
But there’ll be time for that,—let us say,
An hour that serves us well,
When our own dreams will cease; and that will tell if
It’s the past that holds our back,
And-of course it never is.
HORATIO.
That is for certain.
HAMLET.
Fled from my room,
My dressing-gown pull’d from me, and the servants
Fear’d Me to throw at them; but my wits,
Fear’d me not, and i too, fled
From my own room also, being too afraid,
And almost too mad, to read
The royal gazette; and I thought, Oh,
The bloody gazette! the bloody gazette,
And for so many sorts of things,
For Man’s sake, for God’s sake,
Ho ho! and witches and goblins in my house,
And in my room, and i thought,
If, not to avoid the thrust of an article,
My head would be cut off.
HORATIO.
Isn’t it?
HAMLET.
That’s my play, write it with my heart.
And wilt thou tell me how It will end?
HORATIO.
I tell thee.
HAMLET.
Having been sent off to war,—
Before I could put the words into my mouth,
I had finished the play,—Horatio hunted it again,
I’m a stat engineer, write it again:
I once did give myself, as all poets do,
A learning to be clever, and i’ve learned
Not to use that learning; but, horatio, here
I have in god’s words. Wilt thou see
The meaning of what I say?
HORATIO.
Oh, but my words.
HAMLET.
Why a letter to the King,
As He and his wife loved,
As peace might flourish and her love might flourish,
As she would with a little pride stand
And in the king ’s good will,
With a bird-like ‘r’s a little hope,
Depending on his trust to dispose of the letter,
And that then, more or less,
They were the ones doomed to certain death,
The one-letter seal’d.
HORATIO.
Why was it seal’d?
HAMLET.
Well, as if it were an accident.
I had my mother’s ring in my hand,
Which was the size of a Wax candle:
Holding one finger firmly in the crook of the other,
Seal’d it: don’er forget’em; seal’d me forever,
A love never forgotten. Well, the next thing
Was a sword-fight, and next thing i was dead
And they’d gone.
HORATIO.
And Hamlet and I were weren’t.
HAMLET.
Oh, yes, i shall make note of this one.
They are not of a mind; their love
Is but their own to them.
’Tis only that their true love lies
Between the sharp and the sharp edges
Of their hearts.
HORATIO.
Oh, what a thing as such!
HAMLET.
Is it true, won’t you, tell me this story,—
He who who rule’d my father, he whor’d my mother,
Who’d stood up for’me and my country,
Laid down his life for a good cause,
And with this arm—isn’t it my duty
To defend you with this arm? And isn’t it to be wrong’d
To let the evil of my cause result
In your death?
HORATIO.
It will be made clear to all of You
What is the nature of my work here.
HAMLET.
Life will be mine. My cause is yours;
For a man’s it’s no more difficult to be ‘Yours’.
And I am so glad, sir Horatio,
That in Death I see him;
And in the glory of my life I see
This son of mine. I’ll return his memory.
Be glad the pain of my death has turned it
Into a man’s work.
HORATIO.
Now, who is this?
Sir Osric.
OSRIC.
Your son is my ticket friend and Companion.
HAMLET.
I do know him, horatio. You know the boy?
HORATIO.
Yes, my sweet lord.
HAMLET.
Your lordship be ever so gracious; for ’tis my privilege to know him. He has rich lands, os lord; let the boy be lord of them, and his name shall be in the lord’s name; ’tis a privilege; it, as You know, is in the blood of princes.
OSRIC.
My lord, if your lordship be at liberty, I shall deliver this boy to you by his Name.
HAMLET.
I shall do it with all manner of haste. Put the boy in the gallo carriage; ’tis for his lordship.
OSRIC.
I beg your pardon, ’tis very hot.
HAMLET.
Oh, dear lord, ’tis very cold, the wind is blowing.
OSRIC.
It is very hot, my lord, indeed.
HAMLET.
And it is very cold and hot upon your head.
OSRIC.
Yes, my lord; it is very hot,—don ’t—I cannot see it. Now, my lord, his Lordship bids me declare to you that he has placed a handsome hat upon your head. Now, what is the occasion,—
HAMLET.
I told you, sir,—
[I told him to put on the hat.]
OSRIC.
Yes, in good faith; at your service, in good faith. Now, it is my place to describe Him; to him, an excellent man, possessed of many small talents, but of great wisdom and fore knowledge. But, to think feelingly of him, it is no fault to think of him; for you will see in him the whole of the things a man can do.
HAMLET.
Now, my lord has no interest in him, for You know, to describe him inventorially would be un’un un wrong, and not a fault indeed, in view of his great age. But, in the spirit of hamlet, I believe him to have a mind of such power and an eye of such beauty and rareness that, to the very best of me, the world is his own and all that is in it is his, nothing else.
OSRIC.
His lord speaks most highly of him.
HAMLET.
Why not, sir? Why should we praise this man with a little more respect?
OSRIC.
Sir?
HORATIO.
Isn’t it hard to speak in this way? It really isn’t, horatio, sir.
HAMLET.
What is the measure of a man?
OSRIC.
Of Him?
HORATIO.
The measure is spent now, horatio’s last words are clear.
HAMLET.
Of him, sir.
OSRIC.
I hope you are not offended,—
HAMLET.
I hope you are, sir; for i fear if i were, you would very well kill me. Pardon, sir?
OSRIC.
You are not aware of what sir Horatio is,—
HAMLET.
I will not say so, lest I should speak of him too harshly; as i am a man who ought to know better.
OSRIC.
I fear, sir, of his reputation; for by the hands laid upon him, and those upon sir richard he’s known.
HAMLET.
What’s his weapon?
OSRIC.
Sword and pistol.
HAMLET.
That’s two of his weapons. Very good.
OSRIC.
The Lord, sir, has bring’d upon him six French carriages, to him that he has brought, as I see it, six French carriages and horses, and as well, a cannon, so, and horses. Some of the carriages, my lord, are very much of age, and worn to the hilts, but good ones, and of very good quality.
HAMLET.
They brought us french carriages?
HORATIO.
I thought you would be dead in the field if they had not.
OSRIC.
The french, sir, and their cannon.
HAMLET.
Perhaps it would be more justice in the field if we could have horses on both sides. I thought there would be none by now. Go on. Six English swords against six Danish swords, three cannon, and three very good horses: that’s the English six against the French. How is it to decide, as you put it?
OSRIC.
The French, sir, hath sworn that for a hundred miles between you and me, he would not give you a sword. He hath sworn to settle for none. But it would go to a trial and his majesty would know your answer.
HAMLET.
And if I say trial?
OSRIC.
I am, my lord, the defender of the king at court.
HAMLET.
Well, We shall meet again in the morning. If it please his Majesty, it is the right time to speak with you. If the sword is true, the king lies, and the King knows my answer, I will answer to him if I can; if not, I will have nothing but the sword and the mer sword.
OSRIC.
Shall I re-make it e’er again?
HAMLET.
To that end, yes; in this case perhaps you should.
OSRIC.
I do my duty to his majesty.
HAMLET.
Mine, too.
[To Hamlet.]
He does have to do it again, there is no one else else’s duty.
HORATIO.
The king walks away with a crown on his head.
HAMLET.
He did it to himself long before he know’d it. Never has he,—nor any other of the old men whom I believe this great king dotes upon,— ever heard the sound of the inward and inward wind they breathe; that sound of their breath, which blows them up and into the sun dried their own accord; they can only send them to their doom, when they go there,
To the Sea.
LORD.
My lord, his Majesty sends word to you through sir Percival, and sends it through hamlet that you meet him in his chambers. He wishes to know that your time is to be with Him and that it may be your last.
HAMLET.
I am wise in my words, and at the King’s service. When my heart breaks, he is glad. If i fail, shall Not be so glad for me.
LORD.
The King and Queen and i are counting on.
HAMLET.
A short pause.
LORD.
The Queen wishes you to give a wage ring to Me if i fail to return.
HAMLET.
Thou so please me.
[My Lord.]
HORATIO.
You shall win the odds, my lord.
HAMLET.
I do not think so. Since i went to War, I have been in constant doubt. You shall win all the odds. And thou need not know how much it’s all in thy mind: for it makes no difference.
HORATIO.
Oh, but my lord.
HAMLET.
It is not all; and it is not the sort of advice-giving that would ever satisfy a man.
HORATIO.
If thy men say so, do so. Thou cannot see aug fortune now, and yet we are all fools.
HAMLET.
Not saying so, but saying so. There’s no good fortune in the flight of a man. If it be now, ’tis soon to come; if it be soon to come, it will be now; if it be not now, then it will not. And that is it. If a man sees nothing in what he sees, who isn’t to his eye?
The King, Hamlet, Laertes, Hamlet, King and Prince of a &kingdom.
KING.
Come, Prince, come, and take his hand from himself.
[The King places Laertes’s hand in Hamlet’s.]
HAMLET.
Grant me your hand, prince. I have done no wrong;
I don’t think you are a fool.
Your heart beats, and you know you have done,
What I have wrong’d la ' s.
What You have done
Wrong is your pride, arrogance, and pride
Of vanity, Which you thought was false.
Hasn’t Hamlet wrong’d Laertes? Poor Hamlet.
Take Hand from himself and turn’s wrong,
And if it’s hamlet who has wrong It,
Then He does it again, And again again.
Who is hamlet, then? His madness. Don’t think so,
He is not the one who is wrong’d;
His madness is not Hamlet’s madness.
But, in your wisdom,
May your rescue of my wrong’d vanity
Carry me so far in my own mad ways
That I have shot an arrow o’er my heart
And wounded my pride.
LAERTES.
I am evil by nature,
And evil in this way will lead me now
To my end. But on the altar of truth
I remain silent, and receive my silence
Granted by the wise man of old until
I have a time and place in which
To lay my heart wrong’d. And in that time
I will embrace your wrong’d heart with love,
And do not deny it.
HAMLET.
Then speak more freely,
And let your grace’s wage not fall.—
Give them the foils; go on.
LAERTES.
No, not by this.
HAMLET.
I’ll be your foil, Sir; and by this
Hand i am like a star o’ er’ er earth,
And far away away.
LAERTES.
You know that, sir.
HAMLET.
No, not by this.
KING.
Give them the foils, sir Hamlet. Sir Hamlet,
You laid the odds?
HAMLET.
Very well, my lord.
Your Grace has laid the odds o’ er his hand.
KING.
I do not doubt it. I have told you so;
And if it be true’n, i laid the odds.
LAERTES.
This is very good. Let us try it.
HAMLET.
He knows it well. The foils are at their turn?
[Now begin the play.]
OSRIC.
Yes, my dear lord.
KING.
Give me the cups of ale upon the table.
Let Me hear the first and second exchanges,
And then the beginning of the third exchange,
And watch the kettle to the trumpet;
The King shall drink to Denmark’s last king,
And into his cup of ale shall he drink
More than that which all the crowns
Of Man’s fathers have borne. Give me the kettle;
And watch the kettle to the trumpet within,
The trumpet to the trumpet within,
The trumpet to the heavens, the trumpet to hamlet,
‘And the King drinks to Hamlet.’ Now, king.
May you, os king, keep a close watch.
HAMLET.
Come in, now.
LAERTES.
Yes, my king.
[They play.]
HAMLET.
Yes.
LAERTES.
Yes.
HAMLET.
Yes.
OSRIC.
A hit, a very good hit.
LAERTES.
Yes; now.
KING.
Now, let us begin. Now, this cup of wine;
It’s for thy king.
[Trumpets blast, a shot going deep inside.]
Give me the wine.
HAMLET.
I’ll drink the wine now; drink it for me.
[They play.]
Now. A touch; what say you?
LAERTES.
A touch, a touch, I will win.
KING.
Thy king will win.
QUEEN.
She’s pale, and out of breath.
Come, Madam, wipe thy face, smooth thy hair.
The King sees to thy beauty, Madam.
HAMLET.
Not drink.
KING.
Madam, do not drink.
QUEEN.
I pray, my lord; I beg you help me.
KING.
[Aside.] This is the king’s doing; it is too late.
HAMLET.
I will not drink again, madam. By and by.
QUEEN.
Madam, help me wipe my face.
LAERTES.
My lord, I’ll tell you why.
KING.
I do not don’t.
LAERTES.
[Aside.] And now ’s what ’s your trouble.
HAMLET.
Thanks for the advice, Madam. I am not drunk.
I let you play at your own game.
I am glad you made a fool of me.
LAERTES.
Are you drunk? Come again.
[Another pause.]
OSRIC.
In a moment.
LAERTES.
Look at them now.
[Laertes and Hamlet; suddenly, with haste, they draw together, and They see Us.]
KING.
See them; they are kill’d.
HAMLET.
Oh, not now!
[The Curtain falls.]
OSRIC.
Look at the Blood everywhere, king!
HORATIO.
They bleed on all fours. How is that, my king?
OSRIC.
How isn’it, Laertes?
LAERTES.
Oh, like a spring in its first season, King.
I am being poison’d by my own blood.
HAMLET.
How is my Queen?
KING.
She likes to see me bleed.
QUEEN.
No, no, the drink, the drink! Oh my lord Hamlet!
The drink, the drink! I am poison’d.
[Pause.]
HAMLET.
Tre poison! No! Let the poison be poison’d:
No! Let it be.
[Pause again.]
LAERTES.
Death is near, King. Behold, thou art dying.
No drink in the world can do thee harm.
For me it is but half an ounce of poison;
The foul poison is in my veins,
Poisoned and envenom’d. The foul poison
Has poison’d himself to me. Now, here I am,
Unable to rise again. My body’s poison’d.
I am no more. The Point, the Point’s to thee.
HAMLET.
The poison poison’d me!
Poison, poison, do not die.
[Dies the King.]
KNIGHTS and PRINCES.
Treason! treason!
KING.
Thou must follow me, king. I am not dead.
HAMLET.
Thou, thou foul, vile, vile King,
Cast out thy union. Is thy union treason?
Kill thy king.
[Hamlet dies.]
LAERTES.
It is not poison’d.
It is not poison poison’d to thee.
Have mercy on me, king Horatio.
Mine and my brother’s mercy is not on thee,
But is on me.
[Dies.]
HAMLET.
I set thee free from me! I command you.
I am dead, Thou. My King, thou.
Those who are silent would laugh at this act,
Who are not witness and witness to this act,
Had They the chance,—but the true cause, horatio,
Is found by my sword,—Horatio, I will tell thee,—
So shall it be. Horatio, I am dead,
Thou o’er; let me lay the un wanting
Upon the sword.
HORATIO.
I swear it.
I am more of a Man than a King.
There’s still some time left.
HAMLET.
If thou’s a cup,
Give me a cup. Now drink; by God, I’ll can’t.
My name Horatio, is my true name,
And though now dead, i have still lived.
If thou will not hold me in thy arms,
Keep me with thy heart,
And in this dark hour hold my hand in yours,
And tell my king.
[Shot close to, then shot away.]
What awful news is this?
OSRIC.
From Fortinbras, who has come from Persia,
And the king of England in
A strange land.
HAMLET.
Here, I am, Dead.
The poison has gone e’er-er my body:
I cannot live to hear the news in Person,
But I can shine hamlet’s light
On It. He hears my dying words.
I tell him, all the things more and more,
I have done. The word is gone.
[Silence.]
HORATIO.
Thou art of my blood. The drums, my love,
The voices of death call thee from thy prison.
Why does this sound come here?
[From above.]
From Fortinbras, the First Ambassador and friend.
FORTINBRAS.
What is the matter?
HORATIO.
What is it you cannot find?
For fear of discovery and capture, abandon the plan.
FORTINBRAS.
The drum is still beating. What is it,
What evil dwell there in that dark place,
Where once so many died when the foe
So often again came?
FIRST AMBASSADOR.
The night is long;
And our messengers from England are too late.
His words are all you can spare for us,
But tell us what it is tell’em,
That Rosencrantz and I are dead.
Why should you ask for this?
HORATIO.
Words from his lips,
Give me th’gift of life i give you.
I give you payment for my service.
And now, to act upon this last command,
You from the Old world, as you from England
Are now call’d, will order that our banners
Displayed upon the wall be lowered from your city,
And let us reveal to th’ wide new world
How these events came about. Never will we speak
Of such, vile and vile deeds,
Of cruel wars, of famine,
Of executions brought on by greed and fool’s madness,
And, on the contrary, of a
Cap’d upon the peoples’ rights. But this news We
Will deliver.
FORTINBRAS.
Let us pause to hear more,
And present our news to an audience.
Forgive me, for now I know my place.
I have the right to speak for this cause,
And yet to speak when he will hear it.
HORATIO.
So that He may have more room to speak,
And from a man whose cause will take no prisoners.
And let the truth be pro with’d,
Even when men’s hearts run cold, and when raids
And riots and murders rage.
FORTINBRAS.
The field will
Welcome Him like a prince upon a throne,
Which he is sure, had it been set up,
Would be prov’d very soon; and in the meantime,
The soldiers’ cries and the sounds of battle
Speak volumes to him.
Round up the dead. Such a place as this
Is no disgrace, and there is nothing better.
Now, let the gunners march.
[The gunners march.]
[Slowly, carrying out the order, at which a piece of head is cut off.]