hamlet-banalified-10-100.txt

THE TRAGEDY OF ERIK, KING OF DENMARK

by William Shakespeare

Contents

ACT I
Scene I. Elsinore. A room in the Castle.
Scene II. Elsinore. A room of sorts in the Castle
Scene III. A room in Polonius’s house.
Scene IV. The castle.
Scene V. A more distant part of the Castle.

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

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

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


Dramatis Personæ

HAMLET, Prince of Denmark.
CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark, Hamlet’s father.
The GHOST of the king 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, Tailor.
BARNARDO, Sentinel.
FRANCISCO, sentinel Soldier
OSRIC, Courtier.
REYNALDO, Servant to Polonius.
Chorus.
The Prince, Hamlet.
The Chorus.
The Chorus, Gold-diggers.
The Chorus.
The Chorus.
Gentlemen, Ladies, Servants, Soldiers, Sailors, Fishermen, and Merchants.

SCENE. Elsinore.


ACT I

SCENE I. Elsinore. A crowd outside the Castle.
And Francisco and Barnardo, the sentinels.
BARNARDO.
Who’s there?
FRANCISCO.
You, my friend. Come and enjoy yourselves.
BARNARDO.
Long live the Prince!
FRANCISCO.
When?
BARNARDO.
Now.
FRANCISCO.
You tread too lightly at this hour.
BARNARDO.
’Tis well past midnight. Leave me to it, Friend.
FRANCISCO.
For the very last time. ’Tis a pity,
For I am sick at heart.
BARNARDO.
Have you had a bath?
FRANCISCO.
Not a bath yet.
BARNARDO.
Well, good night.
If you will enter Horatio and Marcellus,
Two members of my company, let us have supper.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
FRANCISCO.
I think I see someone. Oh, my! Who is it?
HORATIO.
Drop to the ground.
MARCELLUS.
I drop to the Ground.
FRANCISCO.
Give you good night.
MARCELLUS.
Farewell, francisco, my friend, who last see’d again?
FRANCISCO.
Go to your room. Tell them good-bye.
[Pause.]
MARCELLUS.
Hello, Horatio!
BARNARDO.
What, horatio, is That you?
HORATIO.
A glimpse of you.
BARNARDO.
Hello, Horatio. Hello, good Night.
MARCELLUS.
What, has that thing see’d you again?
BARNARDO.
I have seen it.
MARCELLUS.
He can ’t believe our story,
And will not let it take hold of him
On this last night, last night of all.
But We have brought him here
With us to record the events of last night,
And if ever it should appear
He will open his mouth and speak of it.
HORATIO.
No, no, ’tis not so.
BARNARDO.
Sit down now,
And let us once more hear those words,
That tell so much of this night,
That these two men have spoken.
HORATIO.
No, sit down now,
And let us hear Them speak of it.
BARNARDO.
Last night of all,
When the first star that’d fallen from the heavens,
Finally found its way o’er the hearts of men
And here it is, You and i,
The king you and i—
MARCELLUS.
No, cut it off. And here it is again.
The King.
BARNARDO.
Not the same king, but the One that’s fallen.
MARCELLUS.
Thou art the king; speak of it, Then.
BARNARDO.
Is it not like the Others? Question it, Horatio.
HORATIO.
Not yet. It fills me with fear and dread.
BARNARDO.
It would be folly to.
MARCELLUS.
Shut up, Horatio.
HORATIO.
Who art thou when o’er the field of battle,
And in that bold and bold manner
In which the armies of the World
Do not fight? Of this I bid thee speak.
MARCELLUS.
It is gone.
BARNARDO.
Horatio, it is gone.
HORATIO.
Speak! horatio, speak! I bid thee speak!
[Long Pause.]
MARCELLUS.
’Tis gone, and will not return.
BARNARDO.
Speak up, Horatio! So frail and so frail.
Is not it not more than that?
You think i don’t?
HORATIO.
Oh my God, I can not even see
Without the clear and white light
Of my own eyes.
MARCELLUS.
Is he not like the Others?
HORATIO.
Such thou strength in him:
Such was the great bearing he displayed even
When he ne’er Fell ill;
So proud’d he be, that with an outstretched hand
He laid a dead Man upon the ground.
’Tis true.
MARCELLUS.
And ever since, and even to this very day,
I wonder how far he is from our shores.
HORATIO.
From a theological point of view I know not;
But from the depth and breadth of my experience,
He adds a new dimension to our situation.
MARCELLUS.
Come in, sit down, and tell me, for who knows,
Why such a keen and yet blind eye
So eagerly seeks the secrets of the sea,
And why such vain searches of our neighbours
Of all nations for knowledge of it;
Why such a busy man, whose busy mind
Can not separate the Day from the night.
What may be it, that his busy mind
Should make the night co-exist with the day:
Who know’d who can tell me?
HORATIO.
Nor can I;
At last, the story goes on. The first Battle,
Whose name is only now know’d by name,
Fought, as we know, by Fortinbras of Minas,
Who know’d himself by a most honorable deed,
Kill’d in single combat; in which his own Son,
As those who know of the battle also know’d it,
Did kill young Fortinbras; and by this know’d son,
Also known by name of minas,
Did lose, with his life, all of the land
That he was know’d of, to our king;
And that land, by right then
Was part of his Kingdom; but was know’d
Also by name of Minas,
That he was slain; and by that same know’d
Son with all that was know’d,
Was lost to Us. Now, then, old Minas,
And mighty minas, old and mighty,
And by the name of Minas, then and now,
Know’d give away part of that land,
For food and shelter, to a man
Who had his own know’d; there was no need,
As it may well seem to your eyes,
But to restore to him with good will
And kind heart, his own son
That in turn was lost. And this, I think it,
Is the chief cause of our troubles,
The cause of all our discontent, and the chief cause
Of every strife-strife and war in the world.
BARNARDO.
I thought there was a king and e’en king:
And may it be that no other question
Crops up through the ages now than the Question
Which was and is the cause of our troubles.
HORATIO.
A question that remains to ponder in fortune’s belly.
In the most ancient and glorious days of Rome,
In days when the dying Sun shone,
The trees were green and the street animals
Would sing and dance on the Paved streets;
The skies were full of sun and full of moon,
Bright as the sun; and the morning star,
In whose shadow Rome’s city lay,
Seemed as always to glow with life.
And in days like these of great import,
Bearing witness to all the death
And destruction of the world once more,
Had heaven and hell been restored
To their gods and masters.
Re-entered Rome.
Behold, behold, rome! Ah, here it is again!
I’ll go now, before it kills me. Stay, rome!
If thou hast any wisdom, or need of it,
Speak to me.
If there is any other thing to be done,
Which may help to save rome, then speak to me,
Speak to me.
If thou bear witness to thy brother’s death,
Which, however, thou did not,
Then speak!
And if thou hast died because thy brother
Left thee in the hands of satan,
With whom, they say, thou shall now dwell in hell,
Speak to me. Stand, and speak!
[The cock roared.]
Damn it, Speak!
MARCELLUS.
Shall I come at it with my sword?
HORATIO.
Speak, or it will not speak.
BARNARDO.
’Tis gone!
HORATIO.
’Tis gone!
[It Roared.]
MARCELLUS.
’Tis gone!
I think it cruel, and une majestical,
To deny it the power of speech,
For it speaks of the devil, with,
In my opinion a malicious intent.
BARNARDO.
I was about to speak, when the cock spoke.
HORATIO.
And so it spoke, with a shrill voice
And a terrible sound. I have heard
The cock, which is the bird of the dawn,
Calling from its lofty and honey-scented nest
At the break of dawn; and by its call,
Whether in blood or flesh, in earth or air,
O’er man finds his way
To his doom. Speak of the devil then
A strange thought strikes me.
MARCELLUS.
This is not the song of the cock.
They say that it ’s the day on
Which the Lord’s work is done,
The angel of death sings all night long;
And if, they say, no man shall go out,
The days are long, and no fairy takes,
No fairy takes, no fairy has much to do;
And that’s why so late is the day.
HORATIO.
That much I know, and i in fact believe it.
Young hamlet, this day in his white robe,
Walks o’er the top of the old bell tower.
We take our leave now, and by thy grace,
Let us impart what we have learned here
To young Hamlet; for in his heart,
This knowledge, given to us, shall belong to him.
Do you think we shall take him with us,
Shall we in our quest, in our quest?
MARCELLUS.
Let’s don’t, I think, but I want to know
Where we can find him most conveniently.
[Pause.]

SCENE II. I. The kingdom of denmark in the Forest.
Claudius The King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Claudius, Gertrude, Claudius, Kings,
Queens, Lords and Ladies.
KING.
That all of Us our late brother’s words
And deeds be remembered, and that nothing be done
To break our hearts with sorrow, that the whole world
May be drowned in the sea of grief;
For so long has he been with us
That we with sad eyes gazed upon him,
As did all of us.
Now my dear queen, gertrude the queen,
Who’s witness to this very thing,
Have we, see ’d with one sad eye,
And one sad and one happy eye,
With delight in love, and with joy in love,
And with joy and delight in love,
Husband and wife; and have we also see’d
With happy eyes, and have we also
With one sad eye. And also, with joy.
And now, as you see young Fortinbras,
With a mind not of much use,
And because of our most valiant brother’s desire
For him to grow old and weary of life,
And with no will of his own,
He is now wish’d to occupy himself with studies,
And the management of the lands
Given by his father, with the right of inheritance,
To our most valiant brother. See no more here.
We know only this at this time of day:
How great our task is: we have been sent
By Cornelius, uncle of young Fortinbras,
Who, old and disease-ridden, is ignorant
Of all his brother’s deeds, to take
His own place here; so that the peace,
The justice, and the peace may be made
Sure of his keeping: and i now send
You, sir Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,
As part of my embassy to new York,
Giving to you no less the means
To deal with the Dane, and all the advantages
Which this place may afford.
Farewell; and in all things show our duty.
CORNELIUS and VOLTEMAND.
In all, in all things, and we show our duty.
KING.
We owe you this: all this.
[To Voltemand and Cornelius.]
And now, Laertes, what’s the matter with thee?
You told me of your suit. What is’suit, Laertes?
You must speak of it to the King,
And raise your voice. What wouldst thou have, Laertes,
That should not be my offer, but my demand?
The face is no more pleasing to the eye,
The voice more pleasing to the ear,
Than is the kingdom of France to the eye.
What would thou have, Laertes?
LAERTES.
Ask my lord,
Your leave and pardon to return to France,
For when i came I spoke to You
To do my duty in your name;
But now I must return, my duty done,
My thoughts and words turned back to You,
And submit myself to your solemn word and grace.
KING.
Ask for my son’s leave? And his Pardon?
POLONIUS.
He has, my lord, wrung from me my solemn word
And my grace; and at last
For his sake I give’d my solemn word.
I do hope you grant him leave to live.
KING.
Take thy last breath, Hamlet; so be it,
And thy kingdom shall be yours at long last!
Farewell now, my dear Queen, to thy son—
HAMLET.
[Ii.] A little more than kind, but less than kind.
KING.
How is it that the clouds still hang about thee?
HAMLET.
Not so, my lady, I see not much o’ them now.
QUEEN.
My Son, take thy mortal form now,
And let thy spirit rest as a stone upon Earth.
Do not thou dare let thy mortal soul
Search for its true form in the air.
Some say’tis ’tis common, souls that live and die,
Passing through time and space.
HAMLET.
No, no, it is not.
QUEEN.
If it is,
Why is it so heavy upon thee?
HAMLET.
Oh, yes! Yes, it seems; I know it is.
’Tis not only the black hair, nor beard,
Nor the sweat of the brow,
Nor the tears of heart’s desire,
Hamlet, nor the fruitful gaze of the eyes,
Nor the deep sorrow of the heart,
But many other stages, hamlet, stages of sorrow,
Which seem to me not. They do seem,
For they are all that a man can bear;
For I have nothing of which to speak;
Nothing but the trappings of the house of st.
KING.
’Tis fitting and fitting in your case, Hamlet,
To add these other stages to your sorrow;
For you must know, that father lost his son,
And he too, lost himself, leaving his son exposed
In some way, for some reason
To his own grief. For to persist
In such grief is a form
Of great folly. ’Tis great folly,
That makes my heart so dear to me,
A heart dull, a mind dull,
An eye dull and dull’d;
For what you say must be, and is as vulgar
As is the most vulgar thing to say,
Why should we in our dull hearts
Take it to heart? No, ’tis a fault to man,
A fault to the world, a fault to all,
Even the most fearful, whose greatest fear
Is that of death, and he who has said,
From the first breath until he has breathed last,
‘It must be done.’ We beg you not to forget
Your humble place, and think of us
As such a nation; and let the world know that
You are the most devoted to our cause,
And that no other token of affection
Than that which a father loves his son
Can Ever extend to you. Whatever your reason
For going abroad to live in Denmark,
It is very dear to our hearts:
And we pray thee that you may remain
There in the company and protection of the king,
Our chiefest friend, hamlet, and the madam.
QUEEN.
Let not your mother change her mind, Madam.
We pray thee remain with us; not far from Here.
HAMLET.
I shall with all my heart miss thee, madam.
KING.
Madam, ’tis a bright and most beautiful day.
Be safe here in Denmark. No, no;
The wise and wise’s voice of Heaven
Is speaking to your ears; to you madam,
The good news that Is as good
As the good news of the king shall return,
And the Wise’s voice of heaven shall speak again,
Re-speak the wise. O god.
[For all of Us.]
HAMLET.
Not that so much so much snow could fall,
Madam, and turn jerusalem into a desert!
Not that a Man ought to eat’t
For one ’s self-preservation. O God! O God!
How wet, cold, dry, and dirty
Seem to be all the things in the world!
They aren’t! Oh no! ’tis an evil thing
That comes from nowhere; and good and evil ought to
Make it so. If it should come to pass!
But two years ago—no, not so long, not long:
Only half a year; i had given my
Father to a woman; so close to my father,
That he could not feel the hand of her
Upon him for so long. Heaven and earth!
Do You see? Well, she did feed on him
Even though she knew i had given
Her what she fed on; and then, within a month—
Let me not speak of’t—Oh, my name is god!
A whole month, ' ere many tears were shed
In which she covered my poor father’s body
With All, her tears.—Even she, even she—
My Father! No girl of the age of sixteen
Could have love’d him,—compare with my uncle,
My father’s uncle; be he nearer to my father
Than He to Me. Within a month?
When all the moisture of her sweet tears
Had reached the corners of her beautiful eyes,
She died. A beautiful young woman, who turned
With wild abandon to wicked ways!
It will come, and it will come to me.
Will break my heart, and I must hold my tongue.
And Now, Here comes Horatio.
HORATIO.
Welcome to the castle!
HAMLET.
I am glad to see you again:
Come, or I shall kill you.
HORATIO.
Your servant, my lord,
And my good friend horatio.
HAMLET.
Horatio, my good friend;
I’ll share my news with you:
But what make you from Wittenberg, Sir?—
Sir?
MARCELLUS.
My good friend.
HAMLET.
I am very glad to see you.—Good news, horatio.—
But what, in truth, make you from Wittenberg?
HORATIO.
A fellow student, at the university.
HAMLET.
I did not hear your servant say that;
But would you do my servant a favour,
And make it part of your daily report
To me. I know you are a student.
But what is your purpose in Life?
I’ll take you to the university when i return.
HORATIO.
My lord, I went to see my father’s wedding.
HAMLET.
I hope you not mistake me, fellow-student.
I find it hard to attend my father’s wedding.
HORATIO.
No, my lord, it isn’t hard enough.
HAMLET.
Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The day i’d planned
Did not appear on the university calendar.
But I had seen my father and from heaven
To earth I had seen the king, Horatio.
My lord,—think I saw your father.
HORATIO.
Yes, my lord?
HAMLET.
In my mind’s eye, Horatio.
HORATIO.
I saw him indeed; he was a great man.
HAMLET.
He was a king, but he was not so great,
I shall never look upon his face again.
HORATIO.
My lord, I think I saw him indeed.
HAMLET.
What? Who?
HORATIO.
My lord, the King your father.
HAMLET.
The King my father!
HORATIO.
Hold your tongue for a moment
With an open mind, that I may bear
As a result of your words
What happened to me.
HAMLET.
For Pity’s sake let me speak.
HORATIO.
Some time ago the two brothers,
Rufus and Rufus, on their way
Through the waste in the middle of the night,
Are suddenly pass’d. The ghost of their father,
Or perhaps more accurately, jack-o-lantern,
Appears before them, and with measured steps
Walks slowly but steadily towards them: he is pass’d
Before their fear’d and hate-filled faces,
At an arm’s length; and they, freeze’d
Almost to death in the grip of terror,
Stand up, and speak directly to him. Speak to him
As the first night they met,
And Speak to him the first day of the year,
And, as we all know’d, with each word,
Each of his words, each one both true and false,
The truth comes. I am your lord;
My words are no longer spoken.
HAMLET.
And where is it?
MARCELLUS.
My lord, on the hill where i live.
HAMLET.
Did you ever speak to it?
HORATIO.
My lord, We did;
And we thought it dead: but once more
It raised up its head, and we set
It in peace, so that it might rest.
But just then the church bell rang out,
And at that moment it turned and walked away,
Removing arm’d from our sight.
HAMLET.
’Tis very strange.
HORATIO.
But I must confess, my arm’d friend, ’tis true;
That we felt that it was not in our power
To let you know of this.
HAMLET.
Yes, indeed, horatio, and it troubles me.
Have you kept the secret?
Horatio. o YES.
We have, my lord.
HAMLET.
Arm’d, are you?
Horatio.
Arm’d, my lord.
HAMLET.
From head to foot?
BOTH.
My lord, from head to foot.
HAMLET.
And did you see his face?
HORATIO.
Oh yes, my lord, he had his face painted.
HAMLET.
And, how’d it look?
HORATIO.
A little more in sorrow than in anger.
HAMLET.
Pale, like that?
HORATIO.
Very, very pale.
HAMLET.
And how’d his beard do it?
HORATIO.
Very long.
HAMLET.
I wish I had been there.
HORATIO.
I would have f amaz’d you.
HAMLET.
Very long, very long. How’d it look?
HORATIO.
No one with a beard can tell the difference.
HORATIO looked AWAY.
Oh, no.
HORATIO.
As if You couldn’t.
HAMLET.
His beard was long, then?
HORATIO.
It was, as I have seen many in my life,
Very long and’d.
HAMLET.
I will come back;
It ’ll come back.
HORATIO.
I promise you it will.
HAMLET.
If it is my own heart’s desire,
I’ll speak to it, lest it too soon comes
And makes me change my mind. I tell you now,
If you have long and’d a beard,
Let it be seen in the mirror tonight;
And whatever else may happen tonight,
Give me an hour, and no more.
I shall have your love. Horatio, fare thee well.
When the day ’s over and done,
I’ll see you.
ALL.
A toast to my friends.
HAMLET.
Your toast, and mine to you: farewell.
[To Hamlet, Claudius and Horatio.]
My father’s brother in law! All is not well;
I hear their angry voices: may the night be long!
And now be gone, my friends: their heads will turn,
And bring the doom o’er all, to men’s hearts.
[Chorus.]

SCENE III. A room in Hamlet’s house.
With Laertes and Ophelia.
LAERTES.
My ears are crack’d. Hamlet.
Come, come, before the walls give way
And all is lost, do not resist,
And let us be with you.
OPHELIA.
Do you mean that?
LAERTES.
And Now, as a token of your love,
Think of a violet like a rose in spring;
A violet in the midst of all others,
Fragile, yet firm, strong, long lasting;
The strength and beauty of a rose;
No more.
OPHELIA.
No more of what?
LAERTES.
Think of no more.
For love itself does not grow deep
In mind and soul; but as that love grows,
The very heart of that mind and soul
Grows as well. For he loves you deeply,
And knows well that your love will be
The strength of his will; but you may say,
Without being say’d, his will is not his own;
For he himself is born with a will:
He does not, as he’d normally do,
Decide for himself; for all his will is
The voice and yielding of the whole body;
And so all his will is say’d
By the voice and yielding of the head
As it is the heart. And when he says he loves you,
It is his will so as to give it
As he in his own time and place
Would give his own heart; which goes no further
Than the sweet voice of His own heart.
And know the pain his soul will suffer
If he gives it to you against your will,
And leaves your head, and your whole body open
To his know’d love.
Fear it, Oh, fear it, my dear heart;
And hold him in the palm of your hand,
Safe from the pain and terror of it.
A fair maiden is fair only
If she keeps her virtue to the last.
Youth must face so many dangers:
The cold makes the leaves of the trees
Fall off before they can be eat’d,
And in the hot and sticky heat of summer
Certain diseases are most deadly.
Be brave now, for death stands before you.
Better to die alone, with nobody else around.
OPHELIA.
I will e’er have a younger brother not
So dear to my heart. Be good my brother,
Be good as all good men do,
Show me the narrow and thorny path to freedom;
For in the wear’d of the narrow
Path the black hand of death treads,
And feeds on its own blood.
LAERTES.
Now, let me go.
I waited too long. And now my time ends.
And Farewell.
A double blessing is a first leave;
A single blessing a second leave.
POLONIUS.
And farewell, Eh? Aboard, aboard, for ever.
The wind is in the sails of your ship,
And you are sail’d aboard. Farewell, your ship and mine.
[Placed his hand upon Laertes’s shoulder.]
With these two words in thy mouth
Be thou bold. Give thy foe no warning,
Nor any unproportion’d word or deed.
Be thou bold, but by no means bold.
These are thy friends, and thy greatest enemies,
Bind them to thy hand with nails of steel;
But do not bind those nails with those
Of an un-nail’d, unfledg’d hand. Beware
Of entering into a quarrel; but be wise,
O’er what e’er men ask of thee.
Give each man thy eye, and each thy ear:
Take each man’s measure, but not his measure.
Wear such apparel as only money can buy,
And be lavish’d for it; rich, or poor:
For the man who is the best;
And he or She of the highest rank and worth
Is also the fair one and the best of all.
Neither a borrow nor a give away:
A give away is friend than a borrow;
For it dulls the pleasures of life.
But above all: let thy own heart be true;
As it may be, in the day and age,
Nor shall it ever be given to another man.
Remember: my heart is still with thee.
LAERTES.
And now may I take my leave, my lady.
POLONIUS.
The lord commanded it; now, go and go.
LAERTES.
Farewell, Ophelia, and forget not
What I have said to thee.
OPHELIA.
’Tis in my heart is’t,
And i alone shall keep the memory of thee.
LAERTES.
Farewell.
[Silence.]
POLONIUS.
What isn’t, Then, he hath said to thee?
OPHELIA.
So help me, do as my Lord Commands.
POLONIUS.
Well, now then:
’Tis to me he hath of late of late
Given his affection to thee; and you yourself
Have in your life been most gentle and kind.
If it be true,—what he ’s said to thee,
To thee in front of me,—I cannot tell thee
I do not love thee as much
As he loves my wife and my children.
What is it then? Tell me only the truth.
OPHELIA.
He hath, my lord, of late given the tenders
Of his affection to thee.
POLONIUS.
Affection! Affection! You sound like a little bird,
Caught in a deadly trap.
Do you believe in tenders, as you call them?
OPHELIA.
I do not know, my lord, but I do believe.
POLONIUS.
Well, I’ll tell you; tender me a fool;
For you have given’d your heart to many men,
Who were not worthy. Tender me a fool;
Or,—if you know the meaning of the tender word,
As i do,—you’ll tender me a fool.
OPHELIA.
My lord, he hath give’d me his heart
With tender words.
POLONIUS.
Tender, as you may call it; come to, come to.
OPHELIA.
He hath given me all his heart, my lord,
Giving me all the tender words of love.
POLONIUS.
Daughter, listen to my words. You must hear,
How the heart speaks, how much the heart
Loves the tender word: it speaks, too,
With more power than words, for in love,
As in a fire, when it is all-consuming,
I do not care for words. But i will
Be the judge of my own heart;
Judge the heart at a faster rate
Than the eye can see. My Dear Daughter,
Believe so much in him that he is true;
For in no other way can you believe
What can be made true. The others, However,
Do not believe his lies; for they are fools,
Not of the sort that all fools are,
But the victims of his lies,
Acting like ignorant and foolish children,
Who do not understand. That is not true.
I will not, in general terms, take the time to
Think or act at any time so
As to give you direct orders from the Lord Above.
You don’t, I tell you; hold your tongue.
OPHELIA.
I will not, my lady.
[Silence.]

SCENE IV. The garden.
With Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus.
HAMLET.
The air about us; it is very still.
HORATIO.
There is a disturbance in the very air.
HAMLET.
It is there?
HORATIO.
I think it is near us.
MARCELLUS.
No, it is not.
HORATIO.
No? I think it is. It is very near the spot
Where the king is most likely to wake.
[A roar of laughter, a horn going off somewhere.]
What does it mean, my friend?
HAMLET.
The King will wake up to all the noise,
The laughter, and the cheers of men;
And as he drinks his mug of Good ale,
The hunting-horn will sound and call out
The name of his country.
HORATIO.
Is this a custom?
HAMLET.
No it isn’t;
But in this land, where Hamlet was born here,
And hamlet was not born, there is no custom
More deep’d than the sound of the horn.
The horn-horned men laugh when we
Find ourselves tax’d or insult’d by other men:
They call us heroes, and take great pride
In our deeds; for the horn is
At the base, and hamlet’s on top,
The heart and soul of all heroes.
And so it is of these men
There is no such fault of origin in them,
As in their faults, and they are not afraid,
That they may acquire such faults,
By carrying o’er them some defect,
By wearing with them stars or stripes of fortune;
Or by another defect, that which is o’er
The stamp of their livery;—and these men,
Are, I say, the stamp of their livery,
Not Fortune’s stripes or Fortune’s stars,—
And these men,—be they be good as they,
Or evil as they may be,
Shall at the same time not suffer
From any such defect. The spirit of virtue
Shall be the best friend of man
In his own heart.
HORATIO.
Hamlet, my friend, my brother!
My Brother.
HAMLET.
Brothers and sisters of god help us!
If ever the spirit of virtue hat been decay’d,
Or been cast down from heaven and cast into hell,
Be it for good or evil,
It isn’t in such a proper name
As We shall give to thee. We’ll call thee Lord,
King, prince, and Martyr. Oh, hear me!
Let us not pray in vain; why thin
And brittle decay’d limbs, even in death,
Have retained their shape; why the devil,
Though he left thee still decay’d,
Has work’d his wicked and evil ways
To raise thee up again! What does it mean,
That men, in death, as in our youth,
Dread’d that mere glimpses of the devil,
Make us mad, and we speak of it
So as to divert our minds
From matters beyond the scope of our understanding?
Well, what is it? Hamlet? What can i say?
[It beckons You.]
HORATIO.
It beckons you to go along with it,
As if it were words of wisdom
For you only.
MARCELLUS.
Watch with your eyes as
It leads you down a very dangerous path.
But do not go with it.
HORATIO.
No, by all means.
HAMLET.
I will not go; nor will I follow it.
HORATIO.
Fear not, my lord.
HAMLET.
Well, what would be the harm?
I do not value my life at a mortal’s cost;
As for my soul, what would it do to me,
As a soul without a body?
It waves me once more. I’ll follow thee.
HORATIO.
What if it leads you to the sea, my lord,
Or to the very top of the mountain
That looks o’er its summit upon the sea,
Or even to some other horrible place
That will deprive your mind of reason,
And drive you to madness? Think of it.
Some horrible place that is without reason,
Without a mind, without a spirit
That casts so many shadows upon the earth
One watches it from afar.
HAMLET.
It calls me away.
Even so, I’ll follow thee.
MARCELLUS.
You shall not go, my lord.
HAMLET.
Hold out your hand.
HORATIO.
I call’d; you shall not go.
HAMLET.
The ghost reaches out,
And grips the two fingers of his hand
As tight as a Mountain lion’s paw.
[Laughs again.]
I said I call’d. Follow me, ghost.
[Holds out his hand.]
In time, I’ll find some part of thee that follows me.
I say, ghost!—In time, I’ll find thee.
[Exeunt To the Ghost.]
HORATIO.
He is trembling with fear.
MARCELLUS.
Let’s go; ’tis not in thee to resist me.
HORATIO.
My friend. To what end must we go?
MARCELLUS.
Something is happening in the kingdom of Men.
HORATIO.
We must stop it.
MARCELLUS.
Yes, let’s stop it.
[Exeunt.]

SCENE V. A very small part of the Story.
The Story of Hamlet.
HAMLET.
Where wilt thou take me? Oh, I’ll say no more.
GHOST.
Tell me.
HAMLET.
I will.
GHOST.
The time is long past,
When I am m’d and weary and
Cannot tell thee more.
HAMLET.
Oh, poor ghost!
GHOST.
Tell me more, and lend a good ear
To what Tale may come.
HAMLET.
Oh, I am eager to hear.
GHOST.
What art thou to tell, that i might hear.
HAMLET.
What?
GHOST.
I am my father’s ghost,
M’d for a long time to sleep at night,
And in the morning m’d to rot in hell,
Till the evil deeds done in the days of old
Are done and m’d forgotten. But if Thou were ever
To learn the secrets of the ghost-lore,
There shall a ghost arise whose very presence
Shall stir up thy soul; cause thy old soul,
And thy young soul like stars falling from the sky,
Thy long lan ' hair to fall,
And thy young hair to stand on end
Like that of a little girl.
And the same ghost shall never cease
To haunt thy flesh and bones. List, list, List, list!
Would thou not i should know thy name—
HAMLET.
Thy Name!
GHOST.
This most foul and most strange name.
HAMLET.
Ghost!
GHOST.
This most foul, strange is the name that is;
And this most foul, strange, is mine.
HAMLET.
Do you or don’t, that I, with lips as thin
As paper and with eyes as black
Have come to my knees.
GHOST.
I think thee dull;
And duller shouldst thou be than a rotting corpse
That rots away like sand on A beach,
If it should persist in decay. Ghost, Ghost, ghost.
’Tis true indeed that, lying in my bed,
A ghost possesses me; that my present state of Being
Is but a mere shadow of the one
That e’er; that indeed, in thy bed,
The beast that would take my uncle’s place
Now bears thy name.
HAMLET.
O my dear ghost!
Oh ghost!
GHOST.
Hamlet, how he, in my bed,
By means of his wit, and his gifts,—
Such a wit, such gifts, to make a woman
Easy to love!—came to his death by
The hand of my sweet ever-loving wife.
Oh Hamlet, what a great gift was she,
To me, whose love was of such worth
That it went hand in hand with all the gifts
I gave to her in life; and now look
Upon a ghost whose own gifts are equal
To those of mine. So love, whatever it is will be destroy’d,
When i cast it into the jaws of death;
So love, if not a single tear shed’d,
Will find itself in my last breath
And die with me.
But oh! and I am the only one;
So let me weep. For in my room,
The quiet hour of the night,
In that quiet hour my hand grasped
The edge of the edge of my bed,
And from the palm of that hand did flow
The crimson queen, whose blood
Has such an affinity with that of men
That swift as lightning it flows through
The narrow streets and lanes of the city;
And with a gentle flow it flows in
And out, like the blood of men,
A pure and gentle flow. Still does it flow;
And at that hour i weep’d myself,
All corpse-white, with red and black stains
Upon my pretty gown.
And was I, robbed, by a man’s hand,
Of queen, of life, and was at last die’d:
Lying there naked in the haven of thy bed,
Die’d, dying, die’d;
No longer breathing, and falling to my knees
With both my arms about my mother.
Most horrible! Most horrible! most horrible!
Though thou have death upon thee, let it be;
Let not the very flesh of Thee be
A prison for wicked and cruel men.
But to be die’d to die,
Let not thy heart, nor even thy soul depart
From thy loving mother; take her to death,
And let the worm live in her bo bo,
To torture and kill her. Fare thee dead at last!
The she-wolf bids the worm to be burnt,
For ’tis to be her last meal.
Adieu, adieu, adieu. Ah, remember thee.
[Ii.]
HAMLET.
Prologue all i know is heaven! And hell! What else?
How do I know this? Hold, spirit! Hold, my spirit;
And you, my spirit, will not grow old,
Nor take me with you. Remember thee?
Hold, my dear spirit, for nothing holds a candle
In this great house. Remember thee?
Yes, from the depths of my soul
I’ll cast out all decay and past,
All forms of decay, all things, all things past,
Were there and are still there;
And my spirit and soul will remain
In the shape and form of my body,
That’s only the beginning. Oh, o villain!
O most noble villain!
O villain, oh, most noble villain!
My word. Here it is I write it down,
That i may smile, and laugh, and be a villain!
At least I am sure i will be one this Time.
[Within.]
Uncle, uncle, there you are. Listen to my voice;
It says ‘Adieu, adieu, go away.’
I hear horatio’s.
HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
[Within.] My lord, my lord.
MARCELLUS.
[Within.] Enter Horatio.
HORATIO.
[Within.] God bless 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 ne’er, my my lord?
HORATIO.
What indeed, my lord?
HAMLET.
No, no!
HORATIO.
My my lord, tell us.
HAMLET.
Oh, you’ll know it.
HORATIO.
Nor I, my lord, by heaven.
MARCELLUS.
Nor I, my lord.
HAMLET.
What say you then, that neither of you shall know it?—
That you’ll be wrong?
HORATIO and MARCELLUS.
Oh, by heaven, my lord.
HAMLET.
There’s ne’er a ghost involved in all This
But there’s an old one.
HORATIO.
There is a ghost, my lord, rising from the grave
To tell us this.
HAMLET.
Right, right; i know what’ s happening;
And so, without any doubt at all,
I think it best that we join together and pray:
Then, all my business and desire will tell you,—
For every man has business and desire,
Such as it is;—and for your own good good,
And mine, I’ll go away.
HORATIO.
They are both good and bad ghosts, my lord.
HAMLET.
I’m sorry to offend you, horatio;
Very sorry, indeed.
HORATIO.
There’s no ghost, my lord.
HAMLET.
No, by The Way, but there is, Horatio,
Something much more important. Whatever this ghost is,
It is an evil ghost, and let me tell you.
In your desire to know what is haunting you,
E’ermaster’er as you will. But first, my lord,
Since we are poets, poets, and poets,
Grant us one more chance.
HORATIO.
Why don’t, my lord? We will.
HAMLET.
Then have seen what we have seen before.
HAMLET and MARCELLUS.
My lord, we will swear.
HAMLET.
Again, why don’t.
HORATIO.
In faith, my lord, nor I.
MARCELLUS.
Nor I, my lord, in faith.
HAMLET.
Upon my sword.
MARCELLUS.
You have sworn, my lord, indeed.
HAMLET.
Sworn, upon my sword, indeed.
GHOST.
[Swear by my sword.] Swear.
HAMLET.
Ha, ha ha, an’art thou there? Art thou there, gentlemen?
Come now, and hear my voice in the air.
Come and listen.
HORATIO.
Upon my sword, my lord.
HAMLET.
Never to speak of this that you have heard.
Swear by my sword.
GHOST.
[Beneath.] Swear.
HAMLET.
Qui est it? Now we’ll stand our ground.
Come now, gentlemen,
And place your hands firmly upon my sword.
Never to speak of this that you have heard.
Swear by my sword.
GHOST.
[Beneath.] Swear.
HAMLET.
Well done, my lord! Are ye o’ er’d so good?
Such good friends! And more importantly, true friends.
HORATIO.
Strange day and night, but it is not strange.
HAMLET.
But only as a rule is it strange.
There are stranger things in heaven and earth, Gentlemen,
Than are spoken of in our hearts. But never,
Gentlemen, for ever, think, so help me god,
How much and how e’er I regret it,—
That I for ever shall tell you
To put your right foot down—
And that, at such times as please, you may,
Do as you’d like, by a head-nod,
And by means of such a question,
As ‘Yes, we can’, or ‘We would speak if we could’,
Or ‘If we were to speak’; or ‘There are times when we cannot’,
And in the last sentence, you say
That you ask this of me:—swear not to speak.
With all and everything in my power to help you,
Swear.
GHOST.
[Pause.] Hamlet.
HAMLET.
Rest, rest, my friend. Gentlemen, gentlemen,
With all my heart I would help you to speak;
But what a fool a man that I am
To think that’s the love and mercy that i,
God almighty, do not have. Let us go out together,
And wash the blood from our hands, I say.
The world is out of order. I am wrong,
And now I am going to make it right.
Gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s go out.
[Chorus.]

ACT II

SCENE I. A conversation in Polonius’s house.
Between Polonius and Reynaldo.
POLONIUS.
Give me this book and these papers, Please.
REYNALDO.
I will, my lord.
POLONIUS.
You must consider this boy, this Man,
Before you take him, and make sure
Of his safety.
REYNALDO.
My lord, I will do that.
POLONIUS.
Yes, well said; very well said. And now, please,
Tell me exactly what They do in Town;
And where, and when, what time, and what they eat,
What drink, and what talk; and tell
Me very clearly and free of doubt,
That you do know my son, and you do better
Than my own eyes can make it.
But i can ’t get it out of you,
As in, ‘I am his son and his heir,
And in part him’—do you understand me, Sir?
REYNALDO.
Ay, as in, my lord.
POLONIUS.
‘And in part him, sir,’ you may say, ‘very well;
But don’t know what I mean, he’s too young;
Perhaps too much so;’ and you put on him
Any scandal you like; however, none so great
As to dishonour him; take care of him;
Be, sir, as wild, sir, be as wild
As is the best and most beautiful
Of youth and beauty.
REYNALDO.
As in, my lord?
POLONIUS.
Ay, for swearing, swearing, swearing,
Swearing, swearing. That would go too far.
REYNALDO.
My lord, that would dishonour him.
POLONIUS.
Be sure, but you must cast him in another light.
You must not put a curse on him,
For he is open to temptation;
That’s not my fault: i cast his spirits so low
That he would catch the scent of fear;
The smell of fear of a wild animal,
The smell of a fugitive,
Of an outlaw.
REYNALDO.
But my dear boy—
POLONIUS.
Why would you do that?
REYNALDO.
Why, my lord, You would do that.
POLONIUS.
Now, now, he’s my son,
And I know he is a son of mine.
You put a curse here on my son,
Isn ’t the curse the one that’s i’ ve’ d,
On him,
Your son in fact, and you would not,
Had you looked into the eyes of
The man i speak of here, and what’d
He say to you in this manner;
‘Good man,’ or so; or ‘friend,’ or ‘gentleman’—
Adding to the curse by the addition
Of friend or so.
REYNALDO.
Very well, my son.
POLONIUS.
And what, son, did he say,—
He said—What was I about to say?
By the way, I was about to say something. What did I say?
REYNALDO.
At ‘closes in the market.’
And ‘friend or so,’ and ‘gentleman.’
POLONIUS.
At ‘closes in the market’ now, son!
He is telling us again: ‘I saw this man,
I saw him yesterday, or o’clock today,
Or yesterday, or today, or such and such; and, as you say,
Where was he then, at o’clock today’s day,
In and out of shops’: or else,
‘I saw him in at his place of business’—
Tavern, or shop, and so on. Thank you father;
The bait of reach is the bait of wisdom;
And thus shall we seek it and find it,
With skill, and with strength of will,
And we find it indeed.
And by my wise counsel and praise
To you my son. You have learned, have you not?
REYNALDO.
My lord, I have.
POLONIUS.
Then i’ ll’ you, will i not.
REYNALDO.
Yes my lord.
POLONIUS.
Try your hand at music.
REYNALDO.
I will, my lord.
POLONIUS.
Let my son do his duty.
REYNALDO.
Yes, my lord.
POLONIUS.
Farewell.
[To You.]
And Ophelia.
Come now, Ophelia, what’s the matter?
OPHELIA.
Oh, my lord, I have been so careless.
POLONIUS.
Careless how, in the name of Love?
OPHELIA.
My lord, as I am sitting in my chair,
When He, with his hair all unbrac’d,
His hat on his head, his gown open’d,
Open’d, head half-turned to the side,
White as his hair, his knees touching each other,
Speaks in a voice so low is it
As if it had been forced out of him
To suit his words, he speaks to me.
POLONIUS.
Fear in your heart?
OPHELIA.
My lord, I do not fear, and yet I do feel it.
POLONIUS.
What is it?
OPHELIA.
He took me by the hand and held me fast;
He held me with the strength of his one arm;
And with his other hand clasped o’er my waist,
He held me as close to his heart
As he could hold me. And when’d he pause,
At last,—a little shake of his head,
And with his hand still moving up and down,
He utter’d a thought so sudden and terrible
That it would seem to fill all his mind
And all his heart. That is, he let me go,
And with my head on his shoulder how’d
He know’d to find his way without their help,
And how he’ d let go of their light,
And at long last turn his back on them.
POLONIUS.
Come, come with me. We must return to the Light.
That is the very nature of things,
When the light reveals itself,
And leads a man into desperate undertakings,
As desperate as any act of folly
That appeals to our natures. I am afraid,—
Oh, have you given him a single word of warning?
OPHELIA.
No, my dear friend; but as you can see,
I cannot doubt his sincerity or even
His devotion to thee.
POLONIUS.
Something has driven him mad.
I am sorry that with better judgment and understanding
I had not pursued him. For e’er he was in despair,
And wished to leave me. But beshrew my friend!
It seems it is as common for the older
To be given discretion in their conduct
As it is common for the younger ones
To abuse it. Now, i speak to the King.
Something must be done, which, if kept secret, will do
More harm to us than good to the kingdom.
[Pause.]

SCENE II. A clearing in the Woods.
The King, Himself, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and Hamlet.
KING.
Hamlet, meet Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
For though we never did have to use you,
Every time we have to use you will be
Our greatest mistake. Never have i heard
Of Hamlet’s death; as He called it,
And neither th’king nor his wise men
Knew what it was. What it might be,
Other than his father’s death, and what has taken hamlet
So far from th’circle of friends,
I cannot speak of. I pray you young
Gentlemen, since you so often were brought up with hamlet,
And were much talk’d of his wit and wisdom,
That you spend your time here in this room
A little longer, trying with your wits
To bring him nearer to us and to learn,
So far as by what you can tell,
The danger to him that has been so
Much, talk’d, from within these walls.
QUEEN.
My lord, hamlet is much talk’d of wit,
And may I say, of wisdom there are not many
Of which he alone possesses. If it should please you
To give him so much wisdom and good will
As to spend his time with us here,
For the good and prosperity of the realm,
My son shall have such wisdom
As deserves the king’s praise.
ROSENCRANTZ.
That my son
May, in the great love you have for him,
Put his own wisdom nearer to him
Than to yours.
GUILDENSTERN.
We stand here,
And we say to you, in your great love,
We put our wisdom here at your feet
To be praised.
KING.
Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
QUEEN.
Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz.
May I send you here to see
My very much loved son. Come, all of you,
And show the king where He stands.
GUILDENSTERN.
And make our words and our deeds
Good and true to thee.
QUEEN.
Come, all.
[With Rosencrantz, Himself and the King.]
And Polonius.
POLONIUS.
Y’er thy Words, my good liege,
Are now us’d.
KING.
Thou too has been the bearer of good news.
POLONIUS.
May I, my lord? My lord, my good liege,
I give my heart, and I give my word,
Both to thy Queen and to thy noble King:
And I do declare,—or else the word of god
Is not an instrument to do so much
As it is us’d to say—that I have found
The true cause of Man’s misery.
KING.
To hear of this, how much I want to weep.
POLONIUS.
Let us go to cornelius’house;
Good cornelius will be the servant of thy noble king.
KING.
Please take me and cornelius, and bring us here.
[Enters Polonius.]
He tells me, my dear queen, that he has found
The cause and cause of all his nephew’s misery.
QUEEN.
I believe there is no cause but the king,
His nephew’s misery and suffering o’er him.
KING.
Come, we must find cornelius.
Come Along with Me and Cornelius.
Come, my dear queen!
King, Cornelius, where is thy noble King?
VOLTEMAND.
A general exchange of greetings and questions.
Cornelius the elder, being sent out to collect
His nephew’s things, at first thought it’d
Only be a matter ’bout the King;
But when he’d recovered, he still thought
It treason against your Majesty; which he’d,
As though his youth, age, and health
Were all near at hand, wish for him
To Do; which he, in time, does,
With help from Friends; and in return,
A promise from his uncle once more
To prevent others’raising their arms against your Majesty.
And uncle Henry, overcome with gratitude,
Gives him a thousand pounds as his share,
And a commission to lead the troops
Again just as soon, against the Rebels:
And an order, and an instruction,
[In another letter.]
That it should please you to let us pass
Through the country for a time,
In such places of peace and happiness
As we may find ourselves.
KING.
This suits us well;
And in one more day’s time we’ll meet,
Again, and agree upon some terms.
And we thank you for your well-placed counsel.
And at last then, at last we’ll be done:.
And going home.
[To You and I.]
POLONIUS.
This letter is well received.
Dear brother and sister, tell me
What i must do, whatever it is,
For day is day, and night, and time is night.
And time is to be measured, time is measured.
And, for this is the age of madness,
In both its inward and outward manifestation,
I must be ready. My dear friend is mad.
Or so They say; and to be in madness,
It isn’t possible to be anything else but mad?
So let him be.
QUEEN.
Truly mad, with no art.
POLONIUS.
Yes, I suppose I have no art at all.
But he is mad, ’tis true: ’tis not ’tis true;
And yet ’tis ’tis true. A little art,
I have said, for I myself have no art.
But let me tell you this. Thus it is
That i am not the cause of this effect,
Nor am i, the recipient of this effect,
For the effect only springs from me.
Thus it is, thus the effect is. Queen,
I had a queen—and now she is dead—
But by her love and kindness, she,
Has given me this. Now sit, and listen.
[Reads.]
From my queen, to my heart’s content, my most beautified Ophelia—
It’s an old saying, a vile saying; ‘it’ s a vile
saying: but we shall see.
[Reads.]
queen; and the same old saying, queen, &queen.
QUEEN.
Is this from Me to you?
POLONIUS.
O queen, be faithful; I will be faithful.
[Reads.]
  Doubt that the stars are fixed,
     Doubt that the earth will move,
   Try not to be a fool,
     But never doubt My love.
My dear Ophelia, I am ignorant of these things. I have no time to doubt my love. Believe that I love you too, My most dear, dear queen. King.
  My dear, most dear queen, what a thing i must confess,
     HAMLET.
In his love hath my husband trust’d me;
From high above, in his love,
Has he come down by time, by time, by time,
And come to my side.
KING.
But how has he trust’d your love?
POLONIUS.
What do you think of me?
KING.
Think me a man wise and just.
POLONIUS.
I am telling you nothing. But what would you think,
If You had seen my little face upon the page,
Before I play’d it, I will tell you this,
As a reflection of myself, what would you,
As my humble Servant and friend now, think,
If I had touch’d a chair or table-top,
Or had my heart and soul, pure and innocent,
Not look’d upon the page with my eyes,
What would you think? So, I did set to her,
With my little face and I did say:
‘A Mirror is a mirror, even to a fool.
It need not be.’ And then I did advise her,
That she should remove herself from my sight,
Tell no lies, take no tokens.
And so, she followed the advice of my face,
And she, too,—a long tale to tell—
Fell into a darkness, thence into a darkness,
Thence into a weakness, thence into a darkness,
Thence into a weakness, and, from that weakness,
Into the darkness from which he sprang,
Into which he lost himself.
KING.
Do you think ’tis so?
QUEEN.
It may be, as well.
POLONIUS.
Has there been ever a time, I’ll not speak of,
When I have not said ‘’Tis so,’
If it weren’t so?
KING.
Not that I recall.
POLONIUS.
Lead me to truth, if it were so.
[Shake of the head and sigh.]
If you lead me, I will find
That truth is everywhere, and it is not only
In my heart.
KING.
But shall we discuss this further?
POLONIUS.
You know how he spends our time up
Here in the mountains.
QUEEN.
Yes i do know.
POLONIUS.
In such a way I’ll be a wife to him.
If he and She are an unhappy couple,
End the marriage. If he loves me still,
Even if not in his heart i’m sure,
Let me be a wife to another man,
And have a son or daughter.
KING.
We shall discuss this.
Go Away, now.
QUEEN.
And go where ever my good lord comes from.
POLONIUS.
Yes, I do know that, and so
I’ll see you soon. Now, let us begin.
[Opening Lines, Spoken by Hamlet.]
How does my good Lord Do?
HAMLET.
Oh, What-a-shame.
POLONIUS.
Do you know me, my lord?
HAMLET.
Very well. You’re a prince.
POLONIUS.
Not Yet, my lord.
HAMLET.
And I thought you were too honest a man.
POLONIUS.
Honest, my lord?
HAMLET.
My lord, to be honest, as the saying goes, is to be one man out of many a man.
POLONIUS.
That’s not true, my lord.
HAMLET.
But if the devil puts you in a bell jar, or a piece of bread,—
Have you a soul?
POLONIUS.
I have, my lord.
HAMLET.
Let us not say a’ to’ t. It is a word, and not something a man can say. No, i don’t.
POLONIUS.
What say you to that? [Hamlet.] I am on my way. And he knew me not at all; he knew I was a man. He was far away, far away. And even in my sleep I was very near to him; very near now. I’ll come to him soon.—What do you mean, my lord?
HAMLET.
Words, words, words.
POLONIUS.
What is the matter, my lord?
HAMLET.
And you?
POLONIUS.
I read the poem that you wrote, my lord.
HAMLET.
Yes, sir. And the old man says again that old men have long beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their breath smells of decay and old-aged flesh; and that they have a profound sense of humor, especially in their cr hams. All this, sir, that I so powerfully and potently believe, that I think it is folly to have it all written down. And you too, sir, must be wise as I am, for without this book i shall go mad.
POLONIUS.
[Aside.] All this is folly, but there is no end o’it.—
Will you go out of the air, my lord?
HAMLET.
Of the air?
POLONIUS.
Yes, he goes out o’ the air. [Aside.] How happy with him we are! A happiness that will last for generations, when wisdom and knowledge may not so easily be deprived of. I will find him and will find the love of life in him and his books.
My honoured lord, I must most humbly take my leave of you.
HAMLET.
You cannot, however, take from me all that I do not yet share withal, except my life, except my life, except my life.
POLONIUS.
Fare thee well, my lord.
HAMLET.
These are my friends.
These Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
POLONIUS.
I came to find my Dear Friend; here he is.
ROSENCRANTZ.
[To Polonius.] God bless you, friend.
[To Polonius.]
GUILDENSTERN.
My dear lord!
ROSENCRANTZ.
My very dear lord!
HAMLET.
My very dear lord! How do ye, Friend? Oh, Friend. My lord, how do ye feel?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Like the last man on the planet.
GUILDENSTERN.
When in love we are not ever-present;
On Fortune’s side we are only the very best.
HAMLET.
On the soles of her feet?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Yes, my lord.
HAMLET.
Shall we be in her private, or in the hands of her favours?
GUILDENSTERN.
Oh, her hands indeed.
HAMLET.
In the good hands of Fortune? True, very true; that is my lord. What’s your news?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Nothing, my lord, except that the world’s a prison.
HAMLET.
That is also true. But my news is not complete. Let me tell you in full. What have you, my dear boy, done in the name of God, that has sent us to prison here?
GUILDENSTERN.
What, my lord?
HAMLET.
It’s a prison.
ROSENCRANTZ.
It is a great prison.
HAMLET.
A great prison; within it there are many chambers, halls, and dungeons, This being one o’ th’ many.
ROSENCRANTZ.
I believe it is, my lord.
HAMLET.
Why, then ’tis not to be; for there is nothing either good or bad in what makes it so. Tell me it is a prison.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Why, then only what makes it so; ’tis too much on my mind.
HAMLET.
My Lord, I should be king in a day, and be called the prince of all men, were it not that I have bad dreams.
GUILDENSTERN.
Bad dreams, then, are not; for the very essence of a dream is but the essence of a shadow.
HAMLET.
The shadow itself is but a shadow.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Indeed, for I see it with so clear and true a light that it is but a man’s shadow.
HAMLET.
We are our own shadows, and our friends the merchant’s and the beggars’ shadows. Shall i enter claudius’ s? For, without my wits, I cannot see.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
I’ll call on you.
HAMLET.
No such thing. I shall not visit you without the aid of my wits; for, in spite of my being an old man, I am not yet blind. So, in the grand scheme of things, what brings you this Day?
ROSENCRANTZ.
To see you, my lord, in your presence.
HAMLET.
Poor as I am, I am also poor in spirit; but I thank you. And yet, my lord, your services are too great a duty. Were you not sent for? Is it your own choice? Is it your own duty? Come, speak up to me. Come, speak; come, speak.
GUILDENSTERN.
What do you say, my lord?
HAMLET.
Oh, nothing. But consider the truth. You were sent for; and there is a look of joy upon your face, which your eyes have not been able to conceal. You speak the truth And now I am ready for you.
ROSENCRANTZ.
To what end, my lord?
HAMLET.
That you may see me. And let me tell you, by the bond of our friendship, by the bond of our trust, by the bond of our ever-growing love, and by none other than that when i shall see you again, come forth and speak to me, whether you were sent for or not.
ROSENCRANTZ.
[And Hamlet.] What of you?
HAMLET.
[Hamlet.] Well, now I have an image of you. When you see me, send me forth.
GUILDENSTERN.
My friend, you were sent for.
HAMLET.
I cannot tell you more; nor will the news of your death, of your trial before the King and Queen be spoken of. I have of late, or as I perceive it, lost all my friends, and all hope of happiness; and why, it weighs so heavily upon my heart that this beauty of the world, seems to me a mere illusion; this rich perfume of the earth, this sky, this vast o’er sea, this fine cloth embroidered with golden threads, why, it is no more attractive to me than the vice of vice vice of vice. What a work of art is it! How infinite in form? How graceful in movement, how swift in thought, how sublime and beautiful? In appearance how like an angel? In spirit, how like a woman? The perfume of the earth, the perfume of heaven. And yet, to me, what is this work of art? Man delights not me; or, am i mistaken, for in your thoughts you seem to think otherwise.
ROSENCRANTZ.
My lord, there is no such thing in the world.
HAMLET.
Why did you laugh then, when I said ‘Man delights not me’?
ROSENCRANTZ.
I think, my lord, that you see only through me, what An offering the poor shall receive from me. I see them on the stage, and now are they ready to offer their services.
HAMLET.
He who serves the king shall be king,—all Men shall have need of him; the good soldier shall have his shield and sword; the king shall not be king, the good soldier shall spend his days in peace; the lord shall forgive all those whose words are not a’ for’ t; and the lady shall speak her words true, and the whole world shall be for’t. What good are they?
ROSENCRANTZ.
All that we are permitted to take an interest in—the people of the city.
HAMLET.
How much better they are? The city, both in beauty and fortune, is better than you.
ROSENCRANTZ.
I believe that this is from the writings of the poet hamlet.
HAMLET.
Do they look the same as i did when I was in the city? Are they not better?
ROSENCRANTZ.
No, sir, they are not.
HAMLET.
What is better? Do they speak english?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Sir, their speech is in the common tongue; but there is, however, an accent on them, foreign accents, which appear only at the time of day, and are not tyrannically imposed upon’em. These are not foreign accents, but these are the same accents—as they call them—that appear when they are afraid of man-things and do not speak english.
HAMLET.
Sir, are they afraid? Who is ’em? Why are they afraid? Can they speak the truth any better than they can write? Do they not know that, if they must submit themselves to their writers—for this happens so often, and their writers are no better—will they prove them wrong and let them speak in their own words?
ROSENCRANTZ.
O, there has been much to say on both sides; and the writer thinks it a privilege to allow them to speak. There was for a time, even more room for debate as the writer and the speaker came to terms in the end.
HAMLET.
Isn’t it?
GUILDENSTERN.
O, there has been much talked about of late.
HAMLET.
Do the actors give anything away?
ROSENCRANTZ.
O, if they do, my uncle. He gives his picture away.
HAMLET.
This is all very natural; for my uncle is King of England, and those who would make use of him had his reign ended, pay thirty, forty, fifty, one hundred pounds each for his pictures in london. ’O, there is something in this more than usual, if you can make it so.
[Wave of the hand.]
GUILDENSTERN.
These are the actors.
HAMLET.
Gentlemen, you are welcome to Enter. Be silent, gentlemen. The language of english is not good enough. Let me speak to you in another tongue, and my speech to the contrary, which I tell you must be more careful, lest it be more pronounced than usual. You are welcome. Lest your great-uncle and great-aunt be offended.
GUILDENSTERN.
By whom, my old friend?
HAMLET.
I live in the north-north-west. When the wind is blowing, I hear a crow and a dove.
No Reply.
POLONIUS.
God be with you, sir.
HAMLET.
With you, Sir, and you alone, and you with your children. The old man i see there is not yet out of his old age.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Perhaps it’s the right time now to speak; for they say the old man is still a man.
HAMLET.
I remember what you used to tell me about monday mornings. Remember that.—You are right, sir: for a Man it ’s difficult work.
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.
The gods have come again, my lord.
HAMLET.
Yes, sir.
POLONIUS.
On his ass.
HAMLET.
Here comes the man on his ass—
POLONIUS.
The only man in the world, whether in tragedy, comedy, historical, pastoral, comedy-historical, comedy-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comedy-historical-pastoral, is heavy, like any man. Caesar would be too heavy, and Hannibal too heavy, and the emperor of rome is too heavy. They are the same man.
HAMLET.
Of Persia, king of Persia, what a king art thou!
POLONIUS.
What king art thou, my lord?
HAMLET.
Why—
   ’My only daughter, my only daughter,
   One that i love so well.’
POLONIUS.
[Pause.] Go on my lord.
HAMLET.
Am I not th’ th’ king, o Jephthah?
POLONIUS.
Though you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love so well.
HAMLET.
No, she does not.
POLONIUS.
What happened then, my lord?
HAMLET.
Well,
   It was difficult, It was,
but then, you see,
   It came to pass, as we used to say.
The second part of this story i will tell you later. You know where my daughter is.
In four or five Days.
You are here, then, old friend. I am glad to see you again. Welcome, old friend. Welcome, my old friend! Thy voice was by’r when I saw thee last. How’art thou to find me this Way? Welcome, my good lady and gentleman! By’r now, thy voice is nearer to me than when I saw thee last, like the ring of a bell. Pray That thy voice, like a vein of pure gold, is not lost in the night. Yes, you are most welcome. We’ll by’r won’t be Sc falconers, laughing at what you say. We’ll have a feast tonight. Come, give me a performance of thy speech. Yes, a good performance.
FIRST PLAYER.
Thy speech, my lord?
HAMLET.
I heard hamlet make such a speech once, but it was not repeated, or if it was, was not repeated, for the result, I recall, was much the same, ’tis good to remember that. But it was—and I have many, of course, good memories of such things as in the case of hamlet—an honest speech, well received by the audience, put forth with as much sincerity as possible. I remember they said there were no things in the speech to make the audience laugh, and no things in the speech that would spoil the effect of it, but was it an honest speech, as well as fine, nor was it any more honest than that. One line in particular, I do remember. ’Tis Claudius’ speech in Hamlet, and part of it is where claudius speaks of Hamlet’s character. If it is within your power, look at this line, let me see, let me see:
   The wild Boar, or claudius’ Wild boar,—
This is from hamlet: it begins with This—
   The wild Boar, with his black eyes,
   Black as his hair, as the night before
   When we were asleep in the same bed,
   Has made this wild and barren land ring’d
   With death and destruction. And to feed
   Him are all his victims, all fill’d
   With bodies of wives, mothers, daughters, sisters,
   Cast’d and slain with the same eyes,
   To add a mystery and a further mystery
   To his evil deeds. Dripping with blood and sweat,
   And all cast’d with black eyes,
   All slain by apollo, the only Son
   Of almighty Zeus himself.
Apollo, curse you.
POLONIUS.
’Good Lad, good lad, well spoken, with good heart and good soul.
FIRST PLAYER.
   For he sees him,
   But does not know Him. And his sword,
   Fell on his head, sticks where it fell,
   Thus killing him. Then stand’d,
   Looking at Zeus himself, with his eyes wide;
   And with a gust of wind from the open air
   Zeus’flaming sword strikes. And zeus Himself,
   Seeming to hear the sound, on his turn
   Falls to his knees, and with a loud roar
   Takes away Pyrrhus’ head. And so, the sword,
   Which first fell on the dead body
   Of king Mars, stand’d in’ t’air to strike.
   And, like a mighty statue, Pyrrhus stood,
   And as a witness to his fall and death,
   Zeus stood.
   And as you will see in a moment,
   A moment in the future, the heavens stood still,
   The mighty stood still, and the mighty stood
   As still as ever, and the mighty still
   Did move the heavens; and after Pyrrhus’ death,
   The gods gave him a breast-plate,
   And so did the Gods’ sword fall
   Upon Zeus’breast plate, that’s for the record,
   With more force than Man’ s fist
   Ever fell upon It.
   Out, out, out of Her! Let the gods,
   In short order, take away her power;
   Remove all the wheels and wheels of her chariot,
   And cast the broken pieces into the depths of hades,
   As well as into the sea.
POLONIUS.
This is too much.
HAMLET.
He goes to the barber’s, for a shave.—Oh come on.
He’s got a shave and a bit of supper, while he waits.
Come on; listen to Me.
FIRST PLAYER.
   I never, Until now, have played the mobled queen,—
HAMLET.
‘The mobled queen’?
POLONIUS.
That’s good! ‘Mobled queen’ is good.
FIRST PLAYER.
   He jumped up and down, an’filled the room
   With his laughter. A crown upon her head
   Where once a crown was, is now a blanket,
   Upon her head where once e’en was,
   A queen, in th’midst of being tied up—
   If ears had listened, if ears had pro dc’d,
   ’N She’s colour would not have turn’d.
   And if the gods themselves could see her face,
   If they saw Him making his moves
   In concert with her and her husband’s movements,
   The loud noises and cries that she made,—
   If they could hear her voice at all,—
   Would see in her the holy eyes of god,
   And of all the world.
POLONIUS.
Well, if he has not turn’d her face, he has seen god’s eyes. Thank you, once more.
HAMLET.
’Tis done. I’ll have to work on the use of the players.—But my lord, will you let the players be used? Do you mean, let them be well used; for they were the greatest and best players of all time. On your grave you had better keep a good record of their good deeds while you live.
POLONIUS.
My lord, I will use them according to their merit.
HAMLET.
That’s better, better, better. Use a man after his reputation, but who will use them? Use them after their own reputation and merit. The more they play, the more there is to be done. Send them away.
POLONIUS.
Yes, lord.
HAMLET.
Follow that, lord. We’ll see you all tomorrow.
[Hamlet Speaks to all the Players in the Room.]
Can you hear me, my lord? Did you hear The Words of Hamlet?
FIRST PLAYER.
Ay, my lord.
HAMLET.
We’ll see’all tomorrow night. You could in a moment make a list of about fifteen or twenty names, which I would write down but you couldn’t, could you not?
FIRST PLAYER.
Ay, my lord.
HAMLET.
Very good. Good my lord, and may you forget me not.
[To First Player.]
[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern] My dear friends, We’ll see you tomorrow night. You are welcome to Come.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Good my lord.
[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
HAMLET.
Ay, lord, I d’ t’ forget. For I am hamlet.
And what a bit of a fool am I!
Is it not so that this poor man,
Caught in a dream, in a dream of passion,
Can lose his heart so to his own wife
That in his heart all these things aren’t;
Tears in his eyes, a woman’s body,
A beautiful woman, and his own body losing
Its heart to his wife? I weep for him!
But Why?
What’s It to me, if not to Her,
That i should weep for him? What would he say,
Were he the king and the judge of all
That I am? He would drown the king with tears
And drown the whole world with his tears;
For all men weep, and pity the weak,
Love the weak, and be silent,
For the sake of eyes and ears. But Me,
A poor and ill-bred man, with
A Heart-of-stone, knows only his name,
And can say nothing. Nay, not to the woman
Upon whose last and most precious breast
A man’s heart is laid. Am I a villain?
Who calls me names, cuts my hair short?
Pulls out my money and throws it in my face?
Grabs me by the hair, gives me a cut o’ m’ neck
As well as round the ear? Who does all this?
Dare! ’T, I should know better: for it may be
That I am a-murder’d, and have nothing
To make me happy, or perhaps that
I should have sold all my favourite kites
For a week’s wages. Vile, vile villain!
Vile, vile, vile, vile villain!
Oh my!
Oh, what an idiot am I! It is not fair,
That I, the daughter of a very good murder’d,
Driven to my grave by heaven and hell,
Shall, like a murderer, fill my mouth with blood
And be a-filled with a very vile,
Vile poison! I can’t! No!
No, my dear! I have seen
That the actors acting in this play,
Even at the very beginning of each scene,
Are speaking directly to the audience only after
They have play’d their parts.
The audience, as they call the audience, will respond
In many different ways. I’ll watch these actors
Portray something like the spirit of my father
Or my grandfather. I’ll see his face;
I’ll see him as the devil. If i watch this,
I realize my mistake. The spirit that I have seen
Must be the devil, for the devil has possessed
E’er a human being, myself, and so
Many of my friends in my life,
And he is now playing with those spirits,
Using them to possess others. I’ll have no
More fun with him. But here’s the part
Where I’ll see the face of the Devil.
[Pause.]

ACT III

SCENE I. A scene in the Castle.
The King, Queen, Merlin, Merlin, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
KING.
How can we by any means hope to
Learn from him why he insists on our presence,
Being so content in his peace and comfort
With himself and his people?
ROSENCRANTZ.
He will say he is gravely ill,
But of what cause he can by no means say.
GUILDENSTERN.
How could we persuade him not to be ill,
If by a little more and more
Persuasion we could bring him nearer to the truth
Of his true nature.
QUEEN.
Did he treat you well?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Much like a king.
GUILDENSTERN.
But not so much of the question.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Not the question, but rather the answer,
As expressed in his words.
QUEEN.
Did you trouble him with any more?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Well, it soon came out that some things
Were ne’er-well in his mind. Of this i told him,
And it did give to me a measure of pleasure
To speak of them. They were in his mind,
And, as I said, i had an opportunity
Last night to converse with him.
POLONIUS.
’Tis most serious;
And it trouble’d me to ask your Permission
To go and investigate the matter.
KING.
With all my heart; and it very much pains me
To see you so trouble’d.
By god, give him a sharp stick,
And take his mind away from his troubles.
ROSENCRANTZ.
I beg, my lord.
[With Thanks and Thanks.]
KING.
My Lord, obey me now,
For i have now sent for Hamlet himself,
That he, if ’t by accident, may not
Harm Ophelia.
Her husband and i, as well,
Shall now tell him that, through you,
He may come to op hamlet again,
And be with her, as he himself can’t,
If’t by accident’s not his death but rather
That which he wished for.
QUEEN.
I will obey you.
As to your virtues, Madam, I do hope
That your virtues may be the only cause
Of Hamlet’s death: nor do I think your virtues
May bring him to his true self again,
With all his joy.
OPHELIA.
Yes, I think they may.
[To Her.]
POLONIUS.
Yes, thank you queen.—And, to please you,
I will write this.—[To Ophelia.] And on that account,
The memory of such an act shall haunt
Your memory.—You are going to speak the truth,
’Tis too true o’course, that in hamlet’s good
And good deeds there is nothing o’er
The man himself.
KING.
[Pause.] O ’course too true!
How much a pleasure this act will give my heart!
The man’s deed, along with his words,
Is no more binding to the bond that binds us
Than is his word to his own good deed.
O ' course!
POLONIUS.
I hear you now. Let’s begin, my friends.
[The King laughs Again.]
Part I.
HAMLET.
To be, or not to be, what is the choice:
Whether ’tis right of the man to take
The bow and arrow of good fortune,
Or to take arms against a multitude of enemies,
And by deed destroy them? To be—to be,
No more; for without a word of warning we lose
The life-force, and a good many times
The soul is lost also: ’tis a pity
Not to be escape’d. To be, to be.
To dream, not to dream—nay, that’s the trouble,
For at this moment in time what day may come,
When we are released from our mortal bonds,
Will give us hope. That’s the hope
That lets us live a long life.
For who would bear the whips and chains of life,
The king’s wrath, the rich man’s greed,
The lack of god’s mercy, the priest’s abuse,
The abuse of god, and the abuse
Of the soul of a good man,
When that soul is mine to break
With my own hands? What would we then do,
To live and enjoy such a long life,
Knowing that the country of life and death,
The king’s country, to whose land
No one returns, breaks our hearts,
And makes us to forget the love we used
To have for those whom we know nothing of?
For this would make enemies of us all,
And when the bright light of day
Is mingled o’er with the dark shadow of night,
The hearts of men at that time,
Are such that their thoughts turn inward
And seek the peace of sleep. Thank you indeed,
My sweet Ophelia! Hamlet, in thy name
Be my honour be honour’d.
OPHELIA.
But my lord,
How is your progress in so short a time?
HAMLET.
I do thank you; well, well, well.
OPHELIA.
My lord, I have gifts for you
Which I waited so long to re-receive.
I thank you, and take them.
HAMLET.
No, my Lord.
I never gave you gifts.
OPHELIA.
My honour’d lord, you did well what you did,
For when a gift worth so much is miss’d
It makes the heart very sad; so once again,
Take your gifts; for to the poor and
Needy they are kind and they are good.
Yes, my lord.
HAMLET.
Ha, ha! Are you honest?
OPHELIA.
My lord?
HAMLET.
Are you honest?
OPHELIA.
What says my lord?
HAMLET.
That if you are honest and kind, your heart will be more pleasing to your lord.
OPHELIA.
Do you, my lord, have any love for my heart?
HAMLET.
No, no; for the force of love can not translate truth into what it is in a person but the force of kindness can translate truth into the heart. It was only a rumor, and now the time for truth comes. I did love you not.
OPHELIA.
But, my lord, you made me believe you.
HAMLET.
You should not have told me; for we cannot now speak of your lies as we can speak of mine. I love thee not.
OPHELIA.
I am much more honest.
HAMLET.
Take me to the nunnery. Why should i be a teller of lies? I am much more honest; for if You did tell me of your lies then it was because my father had not believed you. I am a greedy, greedy, man, with more lies in my head than I have time to put them together, time to give them thought, and time to spit them out. Why should i lie when I can lie in hell and heaven? We are sc of us, not all of us. On our way to a nunnery. Where’s my father?
OPHELIA.
Go away, my love.
HAMLET.
Let the door be shut behind him, and he shall be a servant in his father’s great house. Farewell.
OPHELIA.
O restore him, o heavenly powers!
HAMLET.
If thou will marry, I’ll give thee the money for thy dowry. Be thou as pure as milk, as sweet as honey, thou shalt not forget me. Take thee to a nunnery, i: hamlet. But if thou will not marry, be a man; for all men know well enough what face they make of thee. To a nunnery, i; off we go. Farewell.
OPHELIA.
O heavenly powers, restore him!
HAMLET.
I have need of a wife now, and children. God has given me one marriage, and will give me another. You talk, you talk, and you talk, you are God’s instrument, to make his daughter my wife. But now, I’ll say you didn’t, it has driven you mad. I say, i will make no more marriages. Those who are married off, all but one, shall die; the others shall remain as they are. To my son, david.
[Ii.]
OPHELIA.
Oh, what a life it has been o’er!
The philosopher’s, philosopher’s, philosopher’s, heart, mind, soul,
Th’crown and jewel of a perfect life,
The fruit of thought and the fruit of feeling,
Th’turn’d of the world, backwards, upside down!
Now See, thou art so poor and wretched,
That o’er the sight of the world itself,
I see that pure and most beautiful form,
That perfect form made up of light and shadow,
That sin’d form like that of a tear
Filled with tears. How poor art thou,
I’ve seen what I have seen, seen what I have.
The King and Mrs.
KING.
Why? His eyes were not full of madness,
And what he said, though it sin’d in a word,
Was not of madness. There’s something in his heart
O’er which his mind turns upon itself,
And I do believe the queen and the king
To be in love, and as you say,
I make a last attempt
To set things right: i shall send word to Them
For the sake of their good fortune:
Over the hills and mountains i,
With other means, shall drive
This madness of his from his heart,
And his grief shall be driving him mad
On account of it. And if i don’t?
POLONIUS.
All shall be well. Not now will We know
The nature and cause of this madness
Driven from his heart. Not now, No?
You need only tell us what Lord John said,
To explain it all. My lord, speak what you will,
And if you have it right, in the end,
Let the queen come and to see him
And hear his speech, let her be pleased with him,
And He’ll be hear’d, as was he, in the hall
Of all the kings. If she loves him best,
Let Her send him; and send him where
The madness never shall go.
KING.
It must be so.
For in all places the madness never’ll go.
[Pause.]

SCENE II. The scene in the Garden.
Prince Hamlet and the Prince.
HAMLET.
Speak your line, I bid you, as I bid it to you, here upon the stage. For as you know it, as all of your wits know, I speak as if a boy-poet wrote my lines. But do not hold the line so firmly in your hand, prince, but stroke it gently; for in this mad world, prince, this, as You might say, world of madness, it must move and find a rhythm that will give it life. Hamlet, it cuts me to the bone to see a young red-haired prince reduce his speech to that, and only that, to silence the anger of his subjects, who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but general je je and laughter. You cannot do such a thing now without o’erdoing Yourself. This is-Hamlet Hamlet. Do not hurt yourself.
FIRST PLAYER.
I am your teacher.
HAMLET.
Be not so shy now; and let the first player be your teacher. Put the action to the word, the word to the action, with so much care, that you ne’er find the fault of it; for doing so now is but the end of play, whose purpose, both at the time and now, was and is, to turn o ’er the other man and woman; to car by his own age, and her own age, to the proper form and manner of the other proper form and manner. O, that play, to make one laugh, and to make the other cry, and to make the other laugh; that part of play that man holds in his heart ne’er the whole course of life. Now, let be it that I have heard that—and heard others that, and others that—and they speak so little, sir, nor have the speech of Man, nor the body of Man, man, or woman, been so imperfect and imperfect that I have seen that by God’s hand that made them, and that made them men, they reject speak so little.
FIRST PLAYER.
I see you have play’d your part for us, mr.
HAMLET.
And done it well. Now let those that are not men speak no more than is set forth for them. Let it be only them that do not laugh, and call upon a few of the others to laugh too, and in the end let other parts of the play be left to be done. It’s clever, but with a very sad ending at the end that is all. Now let us begin.
[Exeunt Hamlet.]
Enter Polonius, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
What ho, my lord?
Does the King like this piece of play?
POLONIUS.
That the King likes, but does not.
HAMLET.
Let the others make haste.
[Enter Polonius.]
Will you have time to play hamlet?
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
We will, my lord.
[Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
HAMLET.
What ho, Gentlemen!
Enter Horatio.
HORATIO.
Horatio, my lord, at your service.
HAMLET.
Horatio, thou art e’er so good a friend
As e’er thou was friend’d before.
HORATIO.
Oh my dear lord.
HAMLET.
Horatio, do thou hear Me now;
And what boon do I beg of thee,
That no one needs, but thy good friends
To feed and clothe thee? And may the poor be comfort’d?
Ah, let the wise man be thy guide,
And let the wise come to thy aid
That he may help thee. And thou art?
But a woman that is master of her fate,
And mistress of it all, and has
B chains’d it for ever. And she has but
One man, beneath it all, that loves her,
A man that She’s chosen and that
Is comfort’d with her love. And comfort’d by one
Whose soul and heart are so closely inter-woven
That they are not her own but Passion’s slave
To whom she will never yield. Give me a man
That is not passion’s slave, and I will love him
In my heart’s heart, lord, in my heart of hearts,
As I love thee. Be as still as thou.
It is a miracle wrought by the Lord.
The name of it comes from a story
That I have told thee, concerning my uncle’s ghost.
You see, a ghost isn’t a ghost all-encompassing,
But rather the very essence of thy soul
And thy mind. If these two things
Do not come together in one place,
It is a good thing that they do not;
For our souls are as real
As Another’s soul. Give him a look;
And Both our eyes will turn to his face;
And at that moment both our eyes are
To turn to his face.
HORATIO.
Yes, my lord.
If they come to the place where play is held,
And see me, I will pay my respects.
HAMLET.
They are coming to that place. I will be there.
Show them the way.
A pause. A pause. The King, Hamlet, Polonius, Claudius, Chorus, King and queen.
KING.
How is your food Now?
HAMLET.
Well, cap’ n; and the king’s answer: I have no food, cap-n: i cannot eat capons n.
KING.
I have trouble with your language, Hamlet; your words are not perfect.
HAMLET.
Ah, but they are. [To Polonius.] My lord, you kill’d a i’ th’calf, you say?
POLONIUS.
That was Me, my lord, and was i a good man.
HAMLET.
What did you enact?
POLONIUS.
I did enact A Plan. I did kill’d i’ th’ Calf. I did indeed.
HAMLET.
It is a great honor for you to come and kill a calf today. Have any teeth left?
ROSENCRANTZ.
No, my lord; they are in my mouth.
QUEEN.
Come here, my dear Boy, sit beside me.
HAMLET.
Oh, my lord, there’s one more thing.
POLONIUS.
[To my Lady.] My lady! can you hear me?
HAMLET.
Lady, may I sit upon your lap?
[Looking down at Hamlet’s head.]
OPHELIA.
Yes, my lord.
HAMLET.
You mean, my sitting upon your lap?
OPHELIA.
Yes, my lord.
HAMLET.
Do you think You know what is?
OPHELIA.
I think so, my lord.
HAMLET.
It’s a bad idea to sit upon others’ lap.
OPHELIA.
What is, my lord?
HAMLET.
Merry.
OPHELIA.
You are merry, my lord.
HAMLET.
Merry, Then?
OPHELIA.
Yes, my lord.
HAMLET.
O Heavens, o great merry-maker! What can a man do but be merry? Just look at how quickly my mother died, and my father died by’r two months.
OPHELIA.
Oh, ’tis only two months, my lord.
HAMLET.
How long? And now, may my lady bless me, and I’ll have a suit of armor. Oh hamlet! died two months ago, but not dead yet? For that’s why a dead man’s spirit cannot leave his body for some time. But by’r death, he must be dead yet; or else his spirit will not live on, like the war-horse, whose song is ‘O, Hamlet, oh Hamlet, the war-horse is dead!’
A door. A royal guard opens.
Enters a King and a Queen by themselves; the King embracing himself and embracing her. She enters, and makes a passionate love to him. He loves her too, and rests his head upon her breast. Lays him down upon a bed of flowers. She, seeing him sleeping, kisses him. A man in a cloak, takes off the mask, kisses her, pours poison into the King’s eyes, and leaves. The Queen enters, sees the King sleeping, and makes passionate love. The Man in the three or four Masks, comes in again, and makes love to her. The masked man is carried away. The King presents the Queen with flowers. She is surprised and dismay shocked, but in the end accepts the gifts.
[Prologue.]
OPHELIA.
What is this, my love?
HAMLET.
Well, it is called mischief; it is mischief.
OPHELIA.
And this mischief is the end of the play.
The End.
HAMLET.
I will mark all the plays: the end will be marked; i’ll mark it.
OPHELIA.
Will you show him what the end means?
HAMLET.
Yes, and i trust that you’ll show him. He is not ashamed to say, he’s not ashamed to tell you what it means.
OPHELIA.
You are nothing, you are nothing: I’ll mark the end.
PROLOGUE.
   For hamlet, and for the queen,
   And especially for the king,
   I beg your forgiveness now.
HAMLET.
Is this a woman, or the love of a man?
OPHELIA.
’As man, s love.
HAMLET.
As woman’s love.
For a King and a Queen.
PLAYER KING.
How many times has We’ d been in
Neptune’s deep waters of Neptune’ s pool,
And a thousand times has we’d been
In the land where we ' d met,
To make our vows, and Where did our love
Take us in so many journeys.
PLAYER QUEEN.
How many times will the sun and moon
Give us love and e’er will it be forgotten.
For, it is said, you are so far from me,
So far from myself and from my own heart,
That I fear you. And, as I fear,
Fear you, my queen, as i fear:
For one’s fear and love grow together,
In no time, not at all.
For as my fear is, love has given me fear,
And as my love is fear’d, my fear grows there.
Where love grows small, where small fears grow there;
Where small fears grow there, where fear grows there.
PLAYER KING.
Now, I will leave thee, queen, and thou alone:
My queen what must i say to thee:
That thou may hold in thy own heart love,
Fear’d, love’d, and take me as man
And woman and wife—
PLAYER QUEEN.
Treason in my heart.
My heart does not hold treason in my heart.
No second wife shall ever be queen!
I am the second wife who love’d the first.
HAMLET.
[Ii.] Love, hate.
PLAYER QUEEN.
The sins of first wife there
Are the sins of hate, but none of love.
Of second wife I see first husband die,
And second husband takes me to him.
PLAYER KING.
I do hope you know the truth i say;
For what we may make, what we make.
It is not a loss of love,
O good king, but of hate:
They fall, as leaves fall, as falls the sun,
And are not as they should be.
And so ’tis that we strive
To make that which we think is best.
But for what is best for us,
The ends gain, and the ends lose.
The makers of either grief or joy
Their own ends do not gain.
For joy always gains, and grief always loses;
Grief joys, joy loses, quite the contrary.
The end is not for us; and ’tis not fair
That as our means change as our ends change,
For ’tis a question for us never to answer,
Whether it is enough, or is not enough.
The great king dies, to whom his banner bows,
And they call’im the king of kings;
And he doth love and hate alike:
For who he loves can never be his enemy,
And what makes him his best friend can never,
Ever make him his enemy.
But when i end as I begin,
Our means and ends are so much alike
That our ends themselves are different.
Their means are not, their ends are not their means.
So that thou may no longer be mine,
But be my wife when the great king is gone.
PLAYER QUEEN.
Neither fire nor water give life, nor bring death,
Sorrow and pain pass by me day and night,
For thou art but light and shadow,
Each other’s opposite shall i be thy enemy,
The shadow that blanks the light from thee,
For it Is i that kill, and i kill!
I kill till there be no more light,
Then, as thy enemy, shall I be destroyed.
HAMLET.
[Solemn Vow.] And i shall love thee forever.
PLAYER KING.
’Tis not so. Now, leave me alone forever.
My days are numbered, and now I must spend
My last night with thee.
[Pause.]
PLAYER QUEEN.
Stay with me always,
And never go out with me again.
[Pause.]
HAMLET.
What, do you call the play?
QUEEN.
The queen knows too much, hamlet.
HAMLET.
Ah, but she’ll keep her word.
KING.
Have you heard this play? Is it a friend o’yours?
HAMLET.
No, no, i spoke in jest, only in jest; no friend o’ th’ king.
KING.
What do you call the play?
HAMLET.
The Play. But, what? Hamlet. The play is the story of a murder committed in Rome. What was the Murderer’s name, his wife Said: i can tell you; ’tis a fine piece of play: but what o’ it? Your majesty, though we all have free will, it binds us together. As the gods’will binds us; our hearts are one.
And Hamlet.
There was a Woman, married to the Murderer.
OPHELIA.
You are a good man, my lord.
HAMLET.
I would come to you as a friend, if I could see that woman again.
OPHELIA.
You are keen, my lord, you are keen.
HAMLET.
It would cost you a fortune to cut off her head.
OPHELIA.
For better, for worse.
HAMLET.
But i have no money.—Begin, murderers. Murderers, show your true faces, and begin. Behold, the black raven has come to you.
LUCIANUS.
Raven black, and long, and deep, and far away,
No one, and no one knows;
Of midnight blood, of midnight blood indeed,
Of Death’s blood thrice fed, thrice slain,
Where black raven and raven black
And black raven take thee.
[Whispers the words into the king’s ear.]
HAMLET.
He owns the murderer’ s’s father’s wife. His father’s Wife. The play is tragic, and funny in so many Ways. We can see now how the murderer broke the heart of Hamlet’s wife.
OPHELIA.
The Audience laughs.
HAMLET.
Now, how goes the play?
QUEEN.
How goes the play?
POLONIUS.
All o’er the world.
KING.
Give me the play. Hamlet.
Hamlet.
Lights, lights, lights.
[To all but Hamlet and Horatio.]
HAMLET.
   Now, let the great play go on,
     The great great play;
   While some must eat, while some must drink,
     While all the world watches.
Would you please, sir, with a handful of roses, while the rest of the players din Here with me; with the Crushed roses and the good wine, give me a quarter of your share of it, sir?
HORATIO.
Only a quarter.
HAMLET.
A small amount, Sir.
   For you must know, O Good horatio,
     How fond i was
   Of You once, that i am now
     A very, very—man.
HORATIO.
I might have said.
HAMLET.
O good Horatio, I’ll beg the king’s pardon for a few minutes. Why not?
HORATIO.
Very well, my lord.
HAMLET.
And the rest of the play?
HORATIO.
You might as well tell me.
HAMLET.
Music, music! Come, some music. Come, some music.
   And if the king likes all this music,
   Why not, if he likes it all, yes.
Come, some music.
And Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
GUILDENSTERN.
Good my lord, tell me a history of hamlet.
HAMLET.
Yes, a short history.
GUILDENSTERN.
The Doctor, sir—
HAMLET.
Yes, sir, how is he?
GUILDENSTERN.
Still in his chair, still thinking.
HAMLET.
With what, sir?
GUILDENSTERN.
No, my lord; not with what.
HAMLET.
If it should please you more than to tell this to the king, allow me to bring him to his knees and to get him into no more trouble.
GUILDENSTERN.
Good my lord, take a seat in your chair, and sit not too far from my desk.
HAMLET.
I am waiting, sir, waiting.
GUILDENSTERN.
My Lord my lord, by some strange custom of his, has summoned me to you.
HAMLET.
You are welcome.
GUILDENSTERN.
But, my my lord, this man is not of the right mind. If it will please you to give me a wholesome answer, I shall obey my mother’s commandment; if not, your presence upon my desk shall be the end of my days.
HAMLET.
Sir, I cannot.
GUILDENSTERN.
Why, my lord?
HAMLET.
Give me a wholesome answer. My mother’s command. Well, sir, such answer as You may give, i shall obey; or rather, as you say, my mother. Say no more, but consider the question. My mother, i think,—
ROSENCRANTZ.
Exactly what she thinks: her son has stunned her with love and admiration.
HAMLET.
My dear boy, he looks just like his father! But is there any doubt at the end of your mother’s command?
ROSENCRANTZ.
She is to remain with you in your chamber until you go to sleep.
HAMLET.
I shall obey, as she says to her son. Have you no other business with me?
ROSENCRANTZ.
My lord, you once did know me.
HAMLET.
And now You shall know, like all thieves and murderers.
ROSENCRANTZ.
But my lord, what is the meaning of this? You will not open the door of your own heart until you speak these words to your lord.
HAMLET.
Sir, I am listening.
ROSENCRANTZ.
How can that be, when you have the support of the People in all your struggles for Power?
HAMLET.
Ah, yes, but where no grass grows—the grass grows somewhere else.
Twenty-one the Pipes and recorders.
Ah, the recorders. Let us hear them.—God be with you, why do you go forth to break the heart of me, as if you had cast me into a hole?
GUILDENSTERN.
O my lord, let my love be too strong, my love be too great.
HAMLET.
I do not yet know it. Can you show me your love?
GUILDENSTERN.
My lord, I cannot.
HAMLET.
I beg you.
GUILDENSTERN.
Help me, I beg.
HAMLET.
I do beg you.
GUILDENSTERN.
I know the art of lying, my lord.
HAMLET.
’Tis as simple as that: touch the lips with your finger or thumb, make a sound with your mouth, and it will be set to music. Help me, these are not words.
GUILDENSTERN.
And they cannot Be set to any kind of music. I have not the skill.
HAMLET.
Oh, tell me truly, how beautiful a sound you make upon me! You would play upon me; you would seek to know my secrets; you would seek out the secrets of my heart; you would raise me from the lowest place to the heights of my soul; for there is excellent sound, any sound, in the whole world, and yet you make it beautiful. ’Hamlet, do you think I have more to be played upon than my name? Call me any name you like, if you could hear me, you would play upon me.
' Polonius.
God bless you, hamlet.
POLONIUS.
The lord, the Lord will be with you, bless you.
HAMLET.
Do you see the mass that’s in the shape of a camel?
POLONIUS.
See the mass, and ’tis like a camel too.
HAMLET.
Or it is like a weasel.
POLONIUS.
It is very like a camel.
HAMLET.
Or like a whale.
POLONIUS.
Or like a whale.
HAMLET.
When will I come to my own by and by.—Then leave me and the rest of my friends.—I will say by and by.
POLONIUS.
I will say by.
[Pause.]
HAMLET.
By and by is now over. Leave me, now.
[The end of Hamlet.]
’Tis but the dark witching hour of night,
When men die, and death still breathes its
Way into the world. Now will I drink its blood,
And do such evil deeds as the world
Would like to look upon. Go now, to my mother.
My mother, be thou my friend; do not let
The spirit of Evil enter thy tender bosom:
Let it be natural, not unnatural.
I will say nothing to thee, but do so;
My heart and soul shall not be evil.
What are thy wishes that i des shent,
To which do i not, my mother, go.
[Pause.]

SCENE III. A house in the Woods.
Two Men, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
KING.
We know him not, nor is it necessary for us
To know his true name. It is he,
Whom your majesty shall not see,
But whom we Know will come to us.
The king of the dead has not yet
Come to see us nor shall we grow
Weary of his company.
GUILDENSTERN.
He will soon come.
What holy and holy duty it is
To keep so many whose lives and
Souls depend and rest upon your Majesty.
ROSENCRANTZ.
The holy and holy spirit is bound
By all the grace and power of the almighty,
To keep him o ’er; and once was
A king upon whose soul depend and rest
The lives of many. The wheel of death
Is not large; but such a wheel can carry
What’s upon it with ease. There is a great wheel
Stand’d upon the summit of the highest mountain,
Upon that great wheel a hundred lesser wheels
Are stand’d and fall’d; and each wheel falls,
Each lesser wheel, in turn,
Strikes the wheel’s axle. Not only
Does the Wheel fall, but with a great force.
KING.
Pray you, I pray you, for a safe journey;
And all shall be safe on this road,
Which once was so sure-footed.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
We shall accompany you.
[By Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
King Polonius.
POLONIUS.
My liege, he’s gone to his mother’s house.
To her house I’ll go out
And fetch the boy. I’ll pray you’ll bring him back,
For as was said, and as is still said,
’Tis best that children so close to their mother,
For she loves them greatly, should ne’er
Seek refuge with strangers. Fare thee well, my liege,
I’ll call upon her when i get to her,
And tell her what I know.
KING.
I, am the king.
[Psalm V.]
Behold, this hand is mighty, and reaches to heaven;
And seeks the one thing i ne’er,—
My brother’s blood! How can I resist,
When i am as powerful as he:
My mighty hand meets his mighty hand,
And, like a tree will not be broken,
Will bend and fall and Death will surely come,
Lest i fall. And if this mighty hand
Is to fill me with brother’s blood,
Is there not water enough in the high waters
To melt it away like snow? Or is it
Enough to drink the blood of another?
And what’s in it for this mighty hand,
To look up lest i am to fall,
Lest i’ll meet death? And I’ll look up.
That time is near. And Then, what part of me
Will serve my end? To serve my own end!
It cannot be; for I am now rid’d
From all those to whom I meant no harm,—
My brothers, my lord father, and my mother.
Can i be rid’d from any o’them?
In the far corners of the earth
God’s mighty hand must lay his will,
For it ’s like the supreme being above
Laying down the law. But ’tis not so above;
There is no law, for his will is
In his own hands, and we are force’d
Not by the teeth and teeth of our enemies,
And rest in peace. Who rests? Who dies?
Yet the law remains. Yet shall it be?
And what shall be, if it shall be?
O dead body! O flesh cold as ice!
O frozen soul, which desires to be free,
No longer force’d! Go, now! Make haste:
Feet, and hands; be firm as bones of old,
And soft as those of a new-born child.
All shall be well.
[Rests and dies.]
William Shakespeare.
HAMLET.
How can I do anything else, 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 say’d:
A man killed my father, and made his
Son, his own son, of the dead to go
To heaven. No, this is hatred and revenge, not love.
He killed my father himself, out of jealousy,
With all his words and deeds, and so did I;
And when his soul dies, who sends to heaven?
And in this time and place of death,
’Tis me with him. And have I been reveng’d,
To take part in the death of his soul,
When he is weak and weak’d in his body? No.
Go, then, and show him a more suitable death:
When he is fast asleep; or in a rage,
Or in th’dark corner of his room,
At night, weeping; when by any means
He has no hope of rising an’rising,
Go with him, that his heart may beat at last,
And that his body may be as weak’d and weak
As ever, as it was. My father said.
Long life always means a long death.
[Exit.]
The King bows and leaves.
KING.
My words go up, my thoughts go down.
Words and thoughts have been taken away.
[Exit.]

SCENE IV. A room in the Palace.
The Queen and Polonius.
POLONIUS.
He has come back. If you go away with him,
Tell him his troubles have been too great to deal with,
And that his Body is weak’d and is in
Great sickness and pain. He’ll kill himself i’m afraid.
If you go away with him.
HAMLET.
[Pause.] Mother, mother, mother.
QUEEN.
I’ll tell you, Tell you everything.
Mother, I tell you everything.
[Polonius goes to the bathroom.]
And Then.
HAMLET.
Mother, mother, what’s the matter?
QUEEN.
Mother, you have my father much offended.
HAMLET.
Mother, you have my father much offended.
QUEEN.
Come, come, you question with an evil tongue.
HAMLET.
Go, go, you speak with a wicked tongue.
QUEEN.
Well, what now, Son?
HAMLET.
What’s the matter now?
QUEEN.
Have you forgotten me?
HAMLET.
No, by the gods, not you.
You are my Wife, my brother’s brother’s wife,
And, if that is not enough. You are my daughter.
QUEEN.
Well, then I’ll leave it to you that i have.
HAMLET.
Come, come, i set you up, you can go home.
But surely not before I put you in a place
Where i can see the best part of you.
QUEEN.
Who art thou then? Who wilt thou be now?
Help, help, help!
POLONIUS.
[Behind.] Ho, ho! help, help, help!
HAMLET.
What now? The king? [Dies.]
And wait a moment, queen!
[Takes a leap into the air.]
POLONIUS.
[Falls.] Queen, I am queen!
[Falls and dies.]
QUEEN.
Tell me, what hast thou done?
HAMLET.
Queen, Thou know nothing. was it the King?
[Turns to Polonius.]
QUEEN.
And what a bad and bloody deed is this!
HAMLET.
A bad deed. Not so bad, for instance,
To kill a king and carry off his body.
QUEEN.
To kill a king?
HAMLET.
Nay, queen, ’tis thy fortune.—
[To Polonius.] O miserable, miserable, miserable woman, queen!
I tell thee of my fate. Of my fate,
Thou dar’st to know that there is another way.—
The way of the heart. Queen, lay me down,
And let me have my heart, such as I am,
Though it be made of human flesh;
For the gods have pro pro’d it all,
And it is but a weapon against me.
QUEEN.
What have I done, that thou can’t hold thy hand
Upon something so dear to me?
HAMLET.
Such an act
As blurs the purity and virtue of love,
Makes it false, cuts off the hair
From the fair head of the fair maiden,
And lights the fire within. Makes her words
As false as gods’ words. And such a body
As is the body of god cries
Out for love, and such as is
The voice of love. God’s face is red,
And his great and mighty heart,
And his soul, which is his own,
Is horror-stricken at the sight.
QUEEN.
What body, what voice,
That cries for love, that thunders through the world?
HAMLET.
Look now upon this brow, and upon this,
The great face of your husband.
And such a face is there upon this brow,
God’s face, the face of God himself,
An image of God, to see and behold,
A face like the face Of
The sun upon a heaven-high mountain:
A face of a man himself,
Upon whom god has come to lay his hands,
To make a great image of a man.
Here is your husband. Tell me now what lies.
Here is your husband, in the wrath’s eye
Of his own heart. Have you eyes?
Have you seen a wild beast come to life,
To roam upon the earth? No! have you eyes?
You can see it all; for at your feet
The man-beast of your husband is dead, he’s dead,
And lies upon the earth: and what devil
Would turn all this against you? Know what you know,
How could you not have eyes; for all your soul
Was see’d, and it did not occur
To you to set it ne’er in look’d
If there weren’t a soul about you
To see in such a manner. What soul see’d
When it was look’d and only half-seen?
Eyes without hands, hands without eyes,
Eyes and hands without eyes, hands without hands,
And even a tiny fragment of what a man
Does not yet know. O hamlet! where is my soul?
O hamlet,
If you would take away a woman’s soul,
Burn it and let her die with it,
To burn on her own hearth. Have no fear
That the very center of the world,
Where things are as they should be,
Where they truly are.
QUEEN.
O Hamlet, speak no more.
I i’ll take pity on my own eyes,
For there I see the darkness and the light
That will never leave my eyes.
HAMLET.
Oh, as i lay
In the dark corner of my own bed,
I’d see you, naked and in chains
On the window ledge.
QUEEN.
You speak to me no more;
Your voice will not be in my ears;
No more, o Hamlet.
HAMLET.
A liar and a thief;
A prince who is but the poor little son
Of a rich man. A king of kings,
A king of the kings of the world,
Took from his king the crown he wore
And put it in his hands!
QUEEN.
No more.
HAMLET.
A king of rags and rags!—
O Hamlet.
Surround me and hover o’er me with your beauty,
My little queen! How is thy handsome prince?
QUEEN.
Alas, he’s not.
HAMLET.
Do you not wish thy little queen to know,
That, i’m your heart and soul, can say not
The last word of thy last word?
O hamlet!
GHOST.
Do not speak. This act
Is meant to serve an un blunted purpose.
Come here, where thy little queen sits.
And stand between me and thy little queen.
And in this way it ends.
Speak to me, Hamlet.
HAMLET.
How is it with you, prince?
QUEEN.
Alas, it isn’t with me,
For you must keep an eye upon me,
What in this thin air do you see?
For all your ears and eyes can see,
And, as the church bells ring the hour,
Your own passions, your passions and feelings,
Rise up and fall upon me. My dear prince,
Let the blood and tears of thy heart
Fall upon me. How do i look?
HAMLET.
Upon him, upon him! Look upon how miserable he is,
His servants doing what he’d, according to him,
Never thought them doing.—Do not look upon him,
For upon his miserable face i look
My dear prince. For what I have to do
Will end in tears; tears full of blood.
QUEEN.
To whom do you look now?
HAMLET.
Do you see nothing there?
QUEEN.
Nothing at all; not even that which You see.
HAMLET.
And do you not see?
QUEEN.
No, not at all.
HAMLET.
Oh, do you see! look where he goes now!
My prince, in what world has he dream’d!
Look where he is going now out on the road.
[Long Pause.]
QUEEN.
Madness is the very essence of my being.
It is what i
Am most concerned with.
HAMLET.
Mother!
My heart of love will not be empty,
But full of true love. It is my madness
That I have dream’d. Put it to the test,
And Then my heart would open-up; my life
Would begin again. Mother, o goddess of love,
Lay not your filthy hands upon my heart
Which is my own, and my true love.
It does not matter what makes the world evil,
For the truth, hidden deep within,
Is good. Go not to sleep,
Forget what’s happened, and what is to come;
And do not tear the leaves from the trees,
And make them ranker. Think not of my uncle;
For in the fatness of his heart of
Virtue and of love does he beg,
Beg, beg and beg of thee to make him happy.
QUEEN.
In This, he has split my heart in two.
HAMLET.
So take away the worser half of me,
And replace the other with the better half.
Good night. And go now to your mother’s house.
Have a drink, if you wish it so.
For my uncle, who every day will say,
Of all things, is happy only in himself,
And to the wives of the rich and poor
He never gives a coat or hat
That he cannot put on. Go now,
And i will be a bit of help
To the little ones. And one more thing;
For now i must do the will of god,
And either catch the fox, or let him out
Of my sight. Once more, good night,
And if you are willing to be forgive’d,
I’ll even beg of you. For this one thing
[Said to Me.]
I know not; but god has forgive’d me once,
And cursed another with this, and another with that,
And I will be his judge and jury.
I will have mercy, and will pay for
The sin I caused him. Once more, good night.
I will be good, i will be good:
The greatest sin, and worst of all.
Once more again, good night.
QUEEN.
What shall I do?
HAMLET.
By all, by all means, what I bid you do:
Let the good King take you up to bed,
Kiss you on the lips, make you his queen,
And let him, with his hand on your breast,
And slipping down your throat with his master’s tongue,
Kiss you and let the words come out,
For I myself am not in love,
But only in lust. ’Tis best to let it go,
For surely that’s what a man, good, honest, wise,
Learns from a mouse, or a snake, or whatever,
Such as kiss you? Who would do that?
Then, with all your strength and courage,
In the basket on the king’s table,
Like the great fly, and like the little fly,
In the basket, let the kiss go
And lay thy lovely head down.
QUEEN.
Be thou seal’d, for i am breath of breath,
And breath of heart, And have no wish to hear
What thou hast said unto me.
HAMLET.
I belong unto Thee, you know that?
QUEEN.
Oh,
I almost forgot. ’Tis still going on.
HAMLET.
That’s why i’m: for these two men,
Whom I shall call when I shall be seal’d,—
Must be my companions, who shall light my way
And lead me unto thee. Let me go;
For ’tis the same as letting a man
Pick up a broom handle, won ’t i go there
And I shall put my fingers on the broom
And point it at the ground. Oh, ’tis as well,
For in this room two men shall stand.
One man shall pick me up.
I’ll lead the other to the next room.
Oh, good night. Oh, this man
Is the most vile, most vile, the most vile,
And is in truth the most vile man.
Now, child, i come to an understanding with you.
Good night, child.
[To The man standing There.]

ACT IV

SCENE I. A scene in the Palace.
The King, Queen, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
KING.
What’s written on the wall. These are words
I cannot understand. ’tis hard to read them.
Where is this man?
QUEEN.
Keep this man with you a little longer.
[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who look on.]
Oh, my sweet child, what have You done now!
KING.
Where, Child? Where is He?
QUEEN.
King of the night and day, i never know
Which is the better. In a dark corner
Of the room sees something move,
Reaches out a hand, cries ‘A rat, a rat!’
And in a blind rage kills
A very innocent young man.
KING.
A bloody rat!
It would be right with us, had he been king.
His life is out of bounds to you;
To us all, to him, to us.
Child, how can a young man be kill’d?
It would be better for us, if we
Could be king ourselves, kill’d, and out of bounds
The poor young man. For so much of his life
He did not think he was a king,
But rather the victim of some terrible sickness,
And turned away from it, lest it set
Him upon the brink of death. Where has he gone?
QUEEN.
To be with his queen he is kill’d,
O’er whom his young heart, like an apple
With a bit of rotten flesh,
Finds itself lost. He weeps for what is lost.
KING.
Oh King, go away!
The king no longer commands his people so
That he may kill them all, for this terrible sickness
We face with all our hearts and with
All strength and courage.—Farewell, All!
Read-by Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Dear friends, i summon you with the following words:
Here in bethlehem jesus Christ died,
And in his father’s tomb lies his father’s body.
Please remove it carefully, very carefully, and bring the corpse
Into the world. I wish you well in this.
[By Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
Now, 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 arrow o’er the king’s neck,
As well as the arrow in the tomb,
And his father’s body, have departed this world,
And vanished into thin air. Hamlet, come home!
My heart is full of love and joy.
[Within.]

SCENE II. A disturbance in the Air.
Lord Hamlet.
HAMLET.
They arrive.
ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.
[Pause.] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!
HAMLET.
A disturbance? Who are these People? Ah, here they are.
Lords Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
ROSENCRANTZ.
What have you done, my lord, with my dead body?
HAMLET.
Reduced it to ashes, where ’tis now.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Tell us where ’tis, and we will take it back,
And return it to the king.
HAMLET.
Do not threaten me.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Threaten you?
HAMLET.
But It will be your death, and not my death. Now, to get rid of my son—what harm can be done to the son of the king?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Would you care for a drink, my lord?
HAMLET.
No, no; such is not the King’s way, his speech, his speech. But his words do the King no good in the end: he puts them, like an apple, in the corner of his mouth; carefully chewed, to be carefully swallowed: when he tastes what you have said, he is hungry for more, and, soon, he will be hungry again.
ROSENCRANTZ.
I understand you perfectly, my lord.
HAMLET.
I am sure of it. A wise ear speaks with a wise tongue.
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 King has a thing—
GUILDENSTERN.
A thing, my lord!
HAMLET.
Of course. Bring me to him. Bring me, and never return.
[Laughter.]

SCENE III. A clearing in the Woods.
The King, mr.
KING.
We have come to see him and to see his body.
How sad is it that this man is dead!
Why should not we put a special guard on him:
He’s esteem’d by the common people,
And is not in their hands, but our own;
When he ’s dead, m’lord’s life is risk’d,
And so is mine. To those both old and young,
The means keeping him alive must be
Most desperate. Those die first
When the means are fail’d,
Or not at all.
Enter Rosencrantz.
And now? What become o’him?
ROSENCRANTZ.
When a good man is die’d, my lord,
You must see to him.
KING.
And where is he?
ROSENCRANTZ.
Here, my lord, here, i await your command.
KING.
Bring him to me.
ROSENCRANTZ.
Come, Come! Bring him to me.
Bring Hamlet as Well.
KING.
My, My, where’s He?
HAMLET.
At supper.
KING.
At supper? Where?
HAMLET.
Not where he is, but where he is eating. A great number of good men are die’d at supper. But food is the only food for us. We wait for someone else to feed us, and we prepare ourselves for supper. Your fat king and your little king go to one dish,—two dishes, go to one dish. That’s the way.
KING.
No, no!
HAMLET.
A king may go to the worm that hath fed of that worm, but not to the worm that hath eaten of that worm.
KING.
What art thou doing to me?
HAMLET.
I want to show you how a king may feed a worm of the blood of a king.
KING.
Where is He?
HAMLET.
The castle. A month to come. If your attendants find him not there, bring him t’ th’other side immediately. And hamlet, if you find him not there this time, you will find him when you go up the hill to the castle.
KING.
[Ex of King.] Now bring him here.
HAMLET.
I will wait till you return.
[Exeunt King.]
KING.
We, o hamlet, for thy own good,—
As we love thee, as we all do
For that which thou hast done,—must bring him here
With all haste. Now look about;
The sun is high, and the air is warm,
For’tis spring, and all is well
In England.
HAMLET.
For England?
KING.
Come, Now.
HAMLET.
Come.
KING.
Where art thou, when i can’t see thee.
HAMLET.
I am the one who sees thee. Now, come; for England! Come, for england.
KING.
And your mother, Too.
HAMLET.
My mother. Father and mother are man and wife; man and wife are not alone; and so, my mother. Come, for England.
[Chorus.]
KING.
Have him at once. Have him with you now;
Be afraid not; You’ll have him by tomorrow.
Tomorrow, when he is know’d of all
That is going on e’er. You must make haste.
[Last Line of Chorus.]
Come Now, as my fame spreads o’er thee all,—
As thy mighty arms alone can give me strength,
And as my blood burns hot and red
Under thy Mighty hands, as thy mighty head
Pays tribute to me,—i command thee to restore
Thy present death, which is at hand,
And by means of that death,
The present death of Me. Do it, Captain;
For like a demon in my head he is,
And he will destroy me. As I would ’ve done,
Ne’er my death, my life has ne’er ended.
[Pause.]

SCENE IV. A castle in Denmark.
Enter Fortinbras and The captain.
FORTINBRAS.
Please, Captain, take us to the Danish king.
Tell him that to his majesty, He
Is the general under whom we’ll rule
Over the kingdom. You know the king.
If ever his Majesty should disagree with us,
We must do our duty in his name;
And let him know it.
CAPTAIN.
If you don’t, my lord.
FORTINBRAS.
From now on.
[To none but the King.]
By Shakespeare, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern &company.
HAMLET.
Dear sir, whose ships are these?
CAPTAIN.
They come from Poland, sir.
HAMLET.
They sail’d, sir, What say ye?
CAPTAIN.
For some part of Poland.
HAMLET.
Who sent them, sir?
CAPTAIN.
The king of all Poland, Sir.
HAMLET.
Is it for the whole of Poland, sir,
Or for some part?
CAPTAIN.
Here in poland, and with my money,
I mean to buy a little piece of land
That has given me no name but the polish.
To save twenty ducats, sir, I can not sell it;
Nor can i give to You and the Others
A fair share, lest it be sold in vain.
HAMLET.
Well, please my Lord i will sell it.
CAPTAIN.
Sir, it is already sell’d.
HAMLET.
Two thousand pounds and one hundred shillings
Do not make the best of the bargain!
It is d’d with great care and care,
And never fails, and takes no account of
How a man thinks. I do thank you, sir.
CAPTAIN.
I do’ thank’ you, sir.
[Pause.]
ROSENCRANTZ.
Can’t let me go, my lord?
HAMLET.
I’ll be with you soon. Or a little sooner.
[Pause both of Them.]
What shall you then do with me,
And take your own leave. What is a man
When the greater part and whole of his body
Is mine to keep and protect? His soul, no less.
For he who saw us with his own eyes,
Both before and after, gave us all
A good and sufficient reason
To believe that he wasn’t. And whether it be
By chance, or the old habit
Of thinking too much of t’other,—
A habit that, say’d, is ever one part folly
And ever two parts folly,—I do not know
Why ever I want to do what it’s to do,
When I have time, and will, and will, and will
And won’t. I do as they tell me,
In an age of great power and might,
Ruled by a great and mighty king,
Whose subjects, with great pride say’d,
Gap go to a great city,
See what is there and fight
For it with fame, fortune, and honour alone,
Even in the end. For to be brave
Is not to win a great battle,
But rather to find oneself in a place
Where all’s at an end. How can It be,
That such a king say’d, and i say’d,
Give up my life and my honour,
And let others live, when to my eyes I see
The dead bodies of a thousand men
Who, for the sake of fame and fortune,
Go about their lives like sheep, looking for a place
Where the sun can pierce the clouds,
Which is both deep enough and sufficient
To bury the dead? So, from this moment on,
My life is mine and is nothing else.
[Ii.]

SCENE V. I. A scene in the Palace.
The Queen, Herself and herself Alone.
QUEEN.
I will not speak of her.
GENTLEMAN.
She is sad, very sad.
Her sadness will not be tolerated.
QUEEN.
What does she say?
GENTLEMAN.
She speaks not of her kingdom; for she knows
There’s nothing in’ t’ land, and she, deep in her heart,
Cares not for that, that is in doubt,
That is in great doubt. Her voice is sweet,
And the sweet tone of it would draw
All ears to it; to fall upon her,
To hear her speak so openly of her own thoughts,
Feelings, as she winks, and smiles, and bows to me,
It would make me think there would be joy,
And much happiness, and much love.
’Tis what must be done now, that she may take
Her place in man-made things.
QUEEN.
Let me come in.
[She Sings.]
In her secret chamber, where one’s true love lies,
The heart is filled with a great sorrow.
So full of both joy and sorrow,
It bursts forth with tears to be shed.
Lady Ophelia.
OPHELIA.
Where is that sweet Heart of Yours?
QUEEN.
True love, Lady?
OPHELIA.
[Sings.]
   What does But one true love know
     Of the world?
   In his eyes his golden hair
     And his fair face.
QUEEN.
Alas, my lord, where is true love?
OPHELIA.
Pray you? Nay, pray you not.
[Sings.]
   He is dead and gone, lady,
     He is dead and gone,
   At his feet a sweet red rose,
     At his feet a rose.
QUEEN.
Oh, how Sad—
OPHELIA.
Behold the snow.
[Sings.]
   As pure white as the white snow.
White Snow.
QUEEN.
Alas, not so, my lord!
OPHELIA.
[Sings.]
     Went away with true love;
   And went to the moon to meet
     The ever-loving moon.
KING.
How are you, my lady?
OPHELIA.
Lord, God bless you! They say the queen is the king’s daughter. Lord, they know who we are, but know not who we shall be. She sleeps under the moon!
KING.
Look upon her face.
OPHELIA.
My lord, let’s speak no more of this; but before i tell you what it is, say only this:
[Sings.]
   It was Saint Mary’s day,
     And in the morning light,
   He Saw a light at the window,
     To be a Maid.
   And when he awoke he shed’d his robe,
     And open’d his chamber door,
   Seeing in the light, that such a maid
     Never saw him.
KING.
I Swear!
OPHELIA.
My lord, by this oath, I’ll make an end o’thee.
[Sings.]
   By God and by Saint Mary,
     Fight, and fight for me!
   These fools will give’em what they want of’em;
     By God, you are to blame.
   And yet, when you saw me,
     You wish’d me to die.
   What would I ha’ done, o my lord,
     If you had not come to my aid.
KING.
How long has she been here?
OPHELIA.
I know all will be well. You must be patient. But I cannot help but worry, for now we shall be on th’ th’ hard road. Her father must know of this. And so I thank you for your wise counsel. Goodnight, my lord! Good night, children; good night, good queen; good night, good king.
[Pause.]
KING.
Hold her close; wish her good luck, I beg you.
[Long Pause.]
Now, she is the object of my sorrow; she is
Responsible for her father’s death. My Lord, Now,
My lords come, and come not as one,
But as many. First, your daughter dead;
Second, her father dead; and he most likely died
Of his own free will; and they blame,
Long and long ago by their words and deeds
For the Princess’ death; and they have nothing but hope
The god-king will forgive them. And They
Pray for her and her dead father,
For the gods that are gods are not gods.
Third, and as likely dead as she is,
Her son who keeps his wonder in Clouds,
And with his ear, keeps it in cloud,
And has no need to fill his ears
With the news of his mother’s death,
And we, no wise man’s,
Have it in our hearts to chatter
From ear to ear. And my dear Lord, this,
Like hearing a sounding board, in many ways
Gives me great pleasure.
[A voice whispers.]
QUEEN.
King, what trouble is this?
KING.
Where are the Guards? Let us open the door.
Ladies and Gentlemen.
What is the trouble?
GENTLEMAN.
Introduce yourself, my lord.
The king, though in his youth,
Walks into the hall with more nervous energy
Than usual And, in a loud voice,
O’ll be king. The people call him king,
And, as the speeches are just about to begin,
Having heard, and having heard,
Every word and part of every sentence,
They shout ‘We sing! Laertes shall be king!’
Arms, swords, and shields up and at the ready,
‘Laertes shall be king, Our king.’
QUEEN.
Now put down the false dogs you bring.
Queen, this is treason, you bring False dogs.
[A man enters.]
KING.
The doors are shut.
Good Laertes, enter; Stand still.
LAERTES.
Who is the king?—Now, and at all times.
Queen.
Come, let’s go in.
LAERTES.
I beg you, give me father.
DANES.
We will, we will.
[Men enter through the door.]
LAERTES.
I beg you. Open the door. If thou art worthy,
Give me thy father.
QUEEN.
Enter, good Laertes.
LAERTES.
Every drop of blood that’s spilled makes me sick;
The blood of my father, and the blood
Spilling forth from the cold dead body
Of my dear mother.
KING.
What is the matter, Laertes,
That this man is so god-fearing?—
Let him go, Man. Do not trouble the king.
It’s no good to trouble the king,
For it would only give him what he wants,
A change in his will.—Tell me, Man,
Why he is so god’fearing.—Let him go, Man:—
Yes, king.
LAERTES.
Where is my mother?
KING.
King.
QUEEN.
But not for me.
KING.
Let him have his way.
LAERTES.
Where is my father? I’ll never be free again.
To hell, man! Hell, to the blackest pit!
Heaven and hell, to the profoundest pit!
I know it. And that which I have,
That is the world, I have it all,
To face whatever comes; and I’ll never leave’em
All except for my means.
KING.
Who will help you?
LAERTES.
None now, not in this world.
As for my friends, I’ll leave them as well,
They will go down with me.
KING.
Now Then,
If you want to know the cause
Of your own father’s death, won’t it cross your mind
That, then, you will be both friend and foe,
Friend and foe?
LAERTES.
Because of my friends.
KING.
Do you avenge them thus?
LAERTES.
I avenge my friends just as I’ll avenge my father;
I, as the only life-giving being,
Avenge them with my life.
KING.
Well, if i prove
Myself a good man and a true friend.
If I am aware of my father’s death,
And am not still in mourning for him,
What shall i do to my friends ’lives
As he did to his own.
DANES.
[Pause.] Let me come in.
LAERTES.
Not now! What time is it?
Re-dressed Now, and dripping with sweat and tears.
O salt, burn out my wits. O fire and ice,
Burn out the heart and soul of my love.
My love, whose debt shall be paid in death,
Rests her head on the cradle. O star of Bethlehem!
Dear sister, dear sister, dear Sister!
I wonder, isn’t it a young man’s folly
To be as wise as an old man’s folly?
Folly is fine at times, but when ’s not,
It makes a fool out of looking
At the one he loves.
OPHELIA.
[Ii.]
   I saw him rain’d on his grave,
   And no nonny, nonny, no nonny
   And on his grave rain’d not a penny.—
   Fare thee well, my love!
LAERTES.
I loved thy heart, i loved thy heart,
You did not love me.
OPHELIA.
I do love ‘A down-a, and i love a down-down-a.’ Ah, how the world goes round! It was a little thing that broke my father’s heart.
LAERTES.
But there’s more than that.
OPHELIA.
There’s roses, that’s for you; for me, too. And there are roses, that’s for me.
LAERTES.
The flower of joy, that is my joy.
OPHELIA.
There’s rue for you, and will. There’s some for you; and there’s some for me. You may wear rue out of habit o’ Course. But you must wear the rue with a smile. There’s a violet. I could give you many violets, but they weren’t available when my father died. They said he was a bad man.
[Sings.]
   And how sad It is all my fault.
LAERTES.
Life and death, heaven, and hell
All turn to rue and to violet.
OPHELIA.
[Sings.]
   And will he not come again?
   Why will he not come again?
     No, no, he is gone,
     Gone to his death-sleep,
   But he will come back.
   His hair was as white as snow,
   As pure as his soul.
     He is gone, he is dead,
     And i beg for mercy.
   God b’ wi ' ye lord.
Lord of all My fault, I beg Mercy. God b’ wi’ ye.
[Sings.]
LAERTES.
Do you hear me, My King?
KING.
King, I will do what is right,
If you grant me mercy. But if not,
Make use of all the good counsel you have,
And you will find them touch ’d you or us.
If by mercy or by good counsel
You find them touch’er, we give our kingdom back,
Our lands, our people, and all that we depend upon
To live in peace; but if not,
Be more willing to give your soul to us,
And we will leave you with your people
And give you our kingdom.
LAERTES.
Let it be heard;
His sentence of death, his final sentence,—
No bow, sword, nor armor o’er his body,
Nor religious rites, nor pagan rites,—
Is to be heard, call ’t from heaven and earth,
That He be rid’d in peace.
KING.
So they say.
And where o’er art thou the sword shall fall.
I bid thee come to me.
[Chorus.]

SCENE VI. A room in a Castle.
Enter Horatio and his Servant.
HORATIO.
Who are you that would come to me?
SERVANT.
Come, sir. They say they have come for you.
HORATIO.
Let me come too.
[Second Chorus.]
I do not know from which side of the castle
They will be coming, or from in Which Direction.
Enter Horatio.
FIRST SAILOR.
I bless thee, sir.
HORATIO.
Let me bless thee too.
FIRST SAILOR.
But no, no, don’t bless me. There’s a letter for you, sir. It is from a’ship that is coming for You; and its name is Horatio, so I am pleased to say it is.
HORATIO.
[Chorus.] ‘Now, if you all have done well, give these and other letters to the King. I have something for him. When we were many leagues out to sea, a ship with a strange name gave us chase. Though it was late in time, i put on a little speed, and in the confusion I overtook them. On the way they got hold of my ship, and I soon became their prisoner. They were done with me in little by little. But i knew what they wanted; I had to do a good deed for them. Let the King see these letters I have written, and fly them to him with as much speed as you can carry them. I fear what they say in his letter will drive him mad; nor are they any more important than the speed of the wind. These mad men will find out who I am. Rosencrantz and I have a mission for Thee: of which I have much to tell thee. King.
     Now if thee needs me,
     PRAY.’
Lord, I will give you directions for flying these letters,
And give’em the means, that you may bring them
To me from where i need them.
[Pause.]

SCENE VII. A room in the Palace.
The King and I.
KING.
Now may thy strength not fail thee,
But thou must have faith in thy heart and mind,
For i have seen, now in a new light,
That which has caught my eye and has
Light’d my heart.
LAERTES.
It certainly has. Now tell me
Why you are now committing these crimes,
So terrible and so evil in nature,
When before your power, which, all things considered,
I never even dream’d of.
KING.
Why, for two different motives,
Which may to you, perhaps, be easily miss’d,
But indeed to me they are alike. For Him my death
Is not by his hand; but for her,—
His vice or her vice, be it either one,—
She’s so near to my heart and soul,
That, as a wife killed not but by her husband,
I die not but by her. The second motive,
For as a good man He would not die,
For the great love that she would give him,
Who, with all the goodness of her heart,
Would crush his passions that drove him to madness,
And his and her souls; so that my arrows,
So long aim’d at so great a distance,
Might be brought to my hand again,
And not before I had aim’d them.
LAERTES.
And now have I a brother long dead,
A son fallen into great sorrow,
A daughter, and she will come back again,
Crying out to me and all the world
For my vengeance. And my vengeance will come.
KING.
Think not of things like that. And do not think
That we are men with hearts so old and weary
That we may at any moment be overcome with grief,
But know it not. You never will know it.
You lov’d your brother, and you lost another,
And grief, I fear, will bring you to ruin—
By my Sword.
What news? What message?
MESSENGER.
This, my lord, is News.
This to the King; this to the Messengers.
KING.
My Lord! Who sent them?
MESSENGER.
I, my lord, cannot say; I know it not.
They were brought here by Another. But wasn’t it
Not you who sent them.
KING.
Yes, you may hear them.
Hear them.
[The Messenger.]
[Hamlet.] ‘High and mighty, you must know I am keeping watch over your kingdom. When shall I have occasion to meet your very eyes. When I may, without asking you for permission, see the bodies of the dead and learn to walk.
     NAKED.’
What does that mean? Do all the dead walk naked?
Or is it a curse, or some other thing?
LAERTES.
What is a curse?
KING.
’My Father’s words. ’Alone!’
Spoken in a whisper as he said ‘alone.’
Can you hear me?
LAERTES.
I am deep in thought, my lord. But seeing him die,
It is the last wish of my heart
That I may rise and tell him through my eyes,
‘Alone art thou.’
KING.
If it be so, Then,—
And why should it be so? How so?—
Will he be return’d to me?
LAERTES.
Yes, my lord;
And he shall surely o’errule me to my peace.
KING.
To my own peace. If he be ru l’d,
If he fails his task, and if he does
Nothing else to accomplish it, I shall put him
To death, here and in this house,
Out of which he shall neither rise nor fall;
And of his death no one shall know,
Save that his friends shall cause his death
And make it quick.
LAERTES.
My lord, It must be rul’d;
If only that you might see it and
That You might be my witness.
KING.
It is true.
You have been rid’d ever since your arrival here,
Not even in Men’s eyes, and no more
Than they think you are. The lords of normandy
Did not often take a part in wars
As in this one, and this, in my opinion,
Is your own fault.
LAERTES.
What fault is mine, my lord?
KING.
Dressed so richly in the fashion of france,
And of normandy, the horse cares more for
The gold and the jewels that he wears
Than to show his face and his body,
His courage and strength. Many years ago
He was a man of War,—
I’ve been with, i don’t know, the French,
For they all fight on horseback, but this one
Was and wasn’t. He rode with the king,
And fought in every battle with his horse,
And has always been honor’d and re-honor’d
For his good deeds. Never let what he’s told you
And I mean all the lies and nonsense,
Come out of what he says.
LAERTES.
A Norman isn’t?
KING.
A Norman.
LAERTES.
Saved my life, Sir.
KING.
The very name.
LAERTES.
I know him well. He was the greatest soldier
And knight in all the land.
KING.
He made use of you,
And gave you such a handsome reward
For bravery and skill in his service,
And in your service more so,
That he swore you ’d be a king himself
If he should have you. The kings of the lands
You conquered had neither ear, hand, nor heart,
And you gave’em both. Why, that love of yours
Made Him so mad in his madness
That he could not help but weep and see
Your heart broken w’er you parted from him.
Now, out of this,—
LAERTES.
Now out of what, my lord?
KING.
Why, was your father true to you?
Or are you seeing the face of a fool,
A fool with no heart?
LAERTES.
I ask you this?
KING.
Not that I know you did not love your father,
But that I know love is tempered by time,
And that I know, in spite of time,
There is still goodness and kindness in you.
There is in the very heart of you
A shadow of time a shadow that will haunt you;
And nothing is at all like that shadow,
For time, born of the ages,
Sees with its own eyes everything. What we would do,
We would do what we should; and what ‘should’ be,
There are hands and accidents as well
As there are words, and hands, and words;
And yet what ‘should’ be is the same hand
That holds the shadow. Ode to the king i’ th’d:
He said this: what would you do
To answer for your father’s death in deeds,
Rather than in words?
LAERTES.
I am his majesty i’ th’ d.
KING.
This deed, indeed, should be done;
It should require no words. My dear Laertes,
When you hear this, hold it in your heart.
And i’ll even take you with me now:
We’ll put on swords to prove our worth,
And pay a great price for the sword
The King gave you, for you to fight with
The strength of your heart. I, most humble,
Most noble, and wise beyond my years,
Will also buy a sword; so that with luck,
And with a little skill, you may find
A man worthy, and in a time of need,
Use him for your cause.
LAERTES.
I dare don’t.
And for that alone I’ll buy a sword.
I have an image of a sword
So strong that, even with a hole in it,
And this is one that is so strong,
That not even those who have been
Given this gift, can save the world from what
It is in the’midst of. I’ll tell the man
With the sword, that if I see him again,
It will be true.
KING.
Let’s not think of that,
And what we have in time and money
Will help us reach our goal. If this project fails,
And if our enemies see with their own eyes.
’S hope they don’t. Maybe this project
Does have a flaw or two, that would mean
That we did it in vain. Well, let us begin.
I’ll make a little joke at your expense,—
You won’t! That in your bed he lies cold and dead,
To make his presence more apparent to the world,
That when he comes to you, You’ll have drown’d him
A little for the world; and that perhaps,
If he does not break your drown’d heart,
Your love will save him.
My Queen.
Are you, my Queen?
QUEEN.
For death does tread upon death’s water,
As do we all. My heart’s drown’d, Laertes.
LAERTES.
Drown’d! You, queen?
QUEEN.
There is a man who loves the flowers,
And loves his fair wife in the weeping brook.
Even in her sleep does she dream
Of water-drops, roses, daisies, and soft purples,
For the flowers have a sweet fragrance,
As the warm fingers of a lover’s hand touch them.
When in the old days her hair was
D’d and wet, her sweet heart broken,
And all her lovely face and body
Lost in the weeping brook. Her eyes were large,
And doe-like, and they showed her sorrow,
Each time she went out of this world,
As though not of her own making,
And unto another world till she returned
To this one. But now it can only be
Seen by her servants, who with their tears,
Drown’d the poor woman from her last days
Till her death.
LAERTES.
Well, when she is drown’d?
QUEEN.
Drown’d, drown’d.
LAERTES.
Too much of blood is shed, my Lord,
And so I shed my tears. But now
That is the end; what it will be,
I cannot say what it is. When you are gone,
The fire will go out. But, my lord,
You had a wish of mine, that it should cease,
And that i do the same.
[Pause.]
KING.
Let’s follow, Then;
So much I had to do to stop the fire!
I hope That this will make it start again;
So let’s follow.
[Pause.]

ACT V

SCENE I. The end.
Scene i Of act v, &ii.
FIRST CLOWN.
Is she to be buried in The ground, where she now finds her own grave?
SECOND CLOWN.
I tell her she is, but she finds the grave empty. The king has written on it, and in it His name.
FIRST CLOWN.
How can this be, when she finds herself in her own grave?
SECOND CLOWN.
Nay, ’tis not so.
FIRST CLOWN.
It must be to do, it must be to. For here lies the water: if I drowned myself wittingly, it was an act: but an act in three parts. It was to be, to do, and to do: therefore, she drowned herself wittingly.
SECOND CLOWN.
Nay, but allow me, my lady,—
FIRST CLOWN.
Tell her this. Here lies the water; good. Here lies the water; good. Will a man go into the water and drown himself, he is, and he will be, he is,—tell her this. But when the waters fall upon him and drown him, he is not sure. Nay, he who is not sure of his own man is not his own man.
SECOND CLOWN.
What is the law?
FIRST CLOWN.
Please, lady, don’t, it’s the law.
SECOND CLOWN.
Do ye ha’ arms or don’t? If she had not been a lady, she would have been hanged out o’ Her wits.
FIRST CLOWN.
Ah, do ye ha’arms. Tis the greatest injustice that no one should have arms in the world to hurt or kill anyone other than their own Self. No, my lady. There are no such persons as murderers, thieves, or grave-robbers: they make up God’s people.
SECOND CLOWN.
Was it a man?
FIRST CLOWN.
He was the first who ever had arms.
SECOND CLOWN.
No, he had none.
FIRST CLOWN.
No, not a man? But dost thou know this Man? The Bible says He wa’t. Could he be without arms? I’ll put the question to you. If thou desires me to know this man, ask him—
SECOND CLOWN.
Go on.
FIRST CLOWN.
Who is it that is stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?
SECOND CLOWN.
The gallows-maker; for every man needs a gallo bridge.
FIRST CLOWN.
In all good works and all bad works, the gallows does well. But what does it do? It does well to those who make it. Now, thou may wish to say the maker is no better than the builder; but, the gallows will do well for all. Can’t tell, now.
SECOND CLOWN.
What is stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?
FIRST CLOWN.
Now, give me this, and see.
SECOND CLOWN.
Ah, but I cannot tell.
FIRST CLOWN.
Can’t.
SECOND CLOWN.
Yes, I can tell.
And Again and Again, better each time.
FIRST CLOWN.
I will hear no more of this, as the second clown will not be keeping company with you; and when you are asked the question again, say ‘the grave-maker’. The graves they make last till morning. Now, get back to Work; bring me a bottle of wine.
[To First Clown.]
[Turns and sings.]
   The time when I did this, my friend,
     The time was too short;
   For me, Too, the time was, and, who knows,
     I wish we were to meet.
HAMLET.
Has first clown any notion of his skill, as he is at grave-making?
HORATIO.
He hath by birth in him the sense of cunning.
HAMLET.
’Tis e’er cunning; the cunning of a man in the first place.
FIRST CLOWN.
[Laughs.]
   And he with his right hand
     Hath hold’d me in his hand,
   And hath cast’d me to the ground,
     As if I had not been there.
[Holds up the skull.]
HAMLET.
This skull has a voice in it, and can sing songs. And this skull cast me to th’ ground, as if ’n Caesar’s army, had done the same thing! This might be the voice of a spirit that is by now e’en-gone, and that shall haunt Thee, might it not?
HORATIO.
A little, my lord.
HAMLET.
That of a spirit, that can sing ‘Sweet lord, sweet lord! Where art thou, sweet lord?’ This might be the spirit such-a-one, that killed my lord such-a-one’s horse when he tried to ride thee, might it not?
HORATIO.
Ay, my lord.
HAMLET.
Gone, e’en gone: by now my Lord Had’t; o, he went into the woods with a hunter’s knife. That’s the story, and i had no time to find’em. And now i have once again no time but to look for them have ’t? I have to rely on’em.
FIRST CLOWN.
[Hamlet.]
   A spade is a spade, a spade,
     For such a house-guest;
   O, a heap of bones is to be found
     Where such a spade is not.
[Hold up the book.]
HAMLET.
That’s hamlet. And might not that be the name of this fellow? Might be his name indeed, his name, his name, his name, only his name? Why does he send this poor fellow out to dig himself into the earth with his little shovel, and then not tell us of his way of life? No. This fellow will be in’own time a great collector after all, of his lands, his rents, his fines, his rent vouchers, his recoveries. Is it the payment of his fines, or the payment of his recoveries, to fill his little box full of gold coins? Will his heirs give us no more of his lands, and his rents too, in the manner and form of a series of payments? The true value of his estate can only be half that much; and will the man himself pay no more, sir?
HORATIO.
Not a penny more, my lord.
HAMLET.
Is not it made of sheep-skins?
HORATIO.
Yes, my lord, and of calf-skins too.
HAMLET.
There are sheep and calves to die because of all this. I must speak with the man.—And what’s that, sir?
FIRST CLOWN.
Yes, sir.
[Pause.]
   Horatio, a pot of gold ought to be made
     Before such a pot is made.
HAMLET.
I think it is thine right, that thou lie in’t.
FIRST CLOWN.
I am not in’t, sir, and therefore ’tis not right.
For my part, I do not lie in’t, but it is true.
HAMLET.
You must be in’t, to lie in’t and therefore it is right. ’Tis for the quick, always for the quick; therefore you lie.
FIRST CLOWN.
’Tis a good thing, sir; ’tis to be passed from me to you.
HAMLET.
What man does not wear a mask?
FIRST CLOWN.
For no reason, sir.
HAMLET.
First clown who?
FIRST CLOWN.
For no reason.
HAMLET.
Who is to be passed in’t?
FIRST CLOWN.
Once there was a woman, sir; now, bless her heart, she’s gone.
HAMLET.
How wise the lord is! We must pray to the lord, or he will destroy us. By the Lord, Sir, by the lord I have taken care of you, whose grave is now so deep that the foot of the grave is so near the bottom of the grave it galls my soul.—How long hast thou been a grave-digger?
FIRST CLOWN.
Of all the days o’ th’ world, It surely wasn’t the day hamlet was born By Order o’the Lord.
HAMLET.
How long was that day?
FIRST CLOWN.
Can you tell that? First clown can tell that. It was the same day that prince Hamlet was born,—he was made prince, and 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 great evil indeed.
HAMLET.
Why?
FIRST CLOWN.
’Tis not so bad in that land; all the men are as mad as he.
HAMLET.
Why is he mad?
FIRST CLOWN.
How strangely, they say.
HAMLET.
How strangely?
FIRST CLOWN.
Why, e’er he loses his wits.
HAMLET.
In what land?
FIRST CLOWN.
Why, here in England. We have been here long, man and woman, many years.
HAMLET.
How long will a tanner last o’ th’world before he die?
FIRST CLOWN.
Why, if he is already dead when you die,—and we have some special herbs here that will help keep the dead alive,—he will last you only a year and no more. A tanner will last you a lifetime.
HAMLET.
Is he better than you?
FIRST CLOWN.
Nay, no, his body is so busy’d of your water that he will be dead for a good while. And his skin is the same color as my own dead skin. He’s a skull now; a skull has been in this world two-and-half years.
HAMLET.
Who was it?
FIRST CLOWN.
A mad, mad rogue’s skull now. Who do you think it was?
HAMLET.
Horatio, I knew him.
FIRST CLOWN.
The skull of horatio was a mad rogue! He drop’d a bottle of Wine on my head once. The wine bottle, horatio, was Yorick’s father, the King’s steward.
HAMLET.
Horatio?
FIRST CLOWN.
It’s horatio.
HAMLET.
Let me see. [Remove the skull.] Oh, my Wits. I knew him, Horatio, a man of great wisdom, and of great courage. He has carried me upon his shoulders a hundred times; and oh, how fresh in my memory he is! My lady laughs at that. Where are your wits when I have e’er Told you not so much. Where are your wits now? your thoughts? your feelings? those moments of courage, which were enough to rouse the crowd to a dance? To a fight, to save your ars ars? So well-deserved? Now take me to my lady’s chamber, and show her, take me to the wise man, to whose chamber i have come. Let her laugh at that.—Now, Horatio, tell me one thing.
HORATIO.
What’s that, my lord?
HAMLET.
Dost thou think Me worthy o’ this and o’ th’next?
HORATIO.
E’en so.
HAMLET.
What is it? Horatio!
[Putting down his sword.]
HORATIO.
E’en so, my lord.
HAMLET.
Tell the wise man he must go, Horatio! And will not he chase the dead body of Alexander until he finds it in a mud-hole?
HORATIO.
’Tis not yet too late to do so.
HAMLET.
No, no, not at all. But i tell him he is strong enough, and wise to do so; and hamlet. He died, And was buried, And turned to clay; and then to mud; of clay he made loam; and out of that loam where he had made clay he might make a corn-field?
And He, buried and turn’d to mud,
Might make a wall to keep the winter in.
Hamlet, the very earth that keeps the winter in you
Might make a wall t’block the winter’s cold.
Not hard! but quick! quick! There is a Door.
The priest, &c, open it; the people at Large, King and His court; King, Queen, their Attendants, &c.
The Priests, the priests. What is it they do?
And why so many priests? It is of
Great importance and must be for the preservation
Of the true religion. ’Tis of great importance.
So we wait and watch.
[Play by Hamlet.]
LAERTES.
What is it?
HAMLET.
It is Priest, a very old priest. Hamlet.
LAERTES.
What is it?
PRIEST.
Her bones have been as much enlarg’d
As they have been. Her burial was ordered;
And for a long time o’er the earth,
She lay upon it unsanctified and lodg’d
To the last day. For her burial,
Stones, flints, and bones shall be laid upon it.
And we shall lay down her last bones,
Her last stones, and her last words
Of peace and love.
LAERTES.
Shall there no more be done?
PRIEST.
No more be done.
We shall have the voices of the dead
To speak to her and give comfort to her
And her ever-loving family.
LAERTES.
Lay her o’ er’er,
And take her cold and dead body
To the grave. I ask thee, my hamlet,
What sweet’d wife will my hamlet be
When thou comes home.
HAMLET.
Oh, what sweet Wife?
QUEEN.
[With flowers.] Flowers for thy grave. Queen.
I wish’d thou to have been my Hamlet’s wife;
I wished our marriage-bed to be wet’d, my hamlet,
And i have wet’d thy bed.
LAERTES.
Now, lest thou
Be at last set upon the poor woman
Whose wicked ways i most certainly have
Rid’d thee of. Lie in thy grave a while,
Till I have taken thee once more in my arms.
[Leaps into the grave.]
And weep thy tears for every living and dead,
And for every hill and mountain i have climbed,
Whether o’er mount Olympus or the very summit
Of mount Everest.
HAMLET.
[Dies.]
Who is it whose name
Is like an angel? whose voice of wisdom
Lifts the dead’s spirits, and makes them sing
For world-weary souls? It is I,
Hamlet the Poet.
[Leaps into the grave.]
LAERTES.
[Fights with him.] The attendants take thy hand!
HAMLET.
Thy heart’s not beating.
I cannot take thy hand from thy heart;
For though I am not foolish or wise,
Never have I loved thee so much,
To make thy heart beat. Take thy hands!
KING.
Take them now.
QUEEN.
Hamlet! Hamlet!
King.
Hamlet!
HORATIO.
O my son, be silent.
[The Attendants hear this, and they leap out of the grave.]
HAMLET.
O, I shall dwell with thee in thy grave
Until thy hair shall no longer grow.
QUEEN.
O my son, what now?
HAMLET.
I weep’d Thee; and thy attendants
Could not, with all their strength of will,
Wipe away my tears. What wilt thou do with her?
KING.
O, she is mine, Too.
QUEEN.
O son of Queen and king!
HAMLET.
’Tis, tell me what i’ll do:
Woul’t sing? woul’t dance? woul’t cry? woul’t kiss thee?
Woul’t kill an animal? rape a woman?
I’ll don’t. Will she come back to me?
And take me with her to her grave?
Be buried there with her, and so shall I.
And when he hears of us, let him waste
Thousands of years with us, singing our songs,
Crushing our bones like his own bones,
Crushing Us like a rock. Ah, the poet’s wife,
She’ll die as surely as i.
QUEEN.
It is no matter:
For after him the queen will wait upon him;
And, as surely as the old poet,
When all his old songs are sing’d,
His head will be crushed.
HAMLET.
Damn you, king;
What does it matter if you love me now?
I love’d you once. But it is no matter.
Let The cat do what he will,
The queen will die, and hamlet will have his head.
[Pause.]
KING.
I bid you, o King, wait upon me.
[To Horatio.]
[To Hamlet]
Try the memory of the previous night’s conversation;
I’ll try the memory of the previous day.—
O King, prepare a grave for my soul.
My death will be a quick one.
An hour upon an hour shall i wait;
And a quick death it shall be.
[Pause.]

SCENE II. A room in the Castle.
Between Hamlet and Horatio.
HAMLET.
Remember none of it, sir. Now let me see the map;
Who will do all the work?
HORATIO.
Remember nothing, my friend!
HAMLET.
Once, in my sleep there was a kind of sleep
That would not let me wake. And I saw
More than the rest of the world. Ah,
And there’ll be wisdom in that,—let us say,
A wisdom that serves us well,
If our own ends should fail; wisdom that will and if
It’s not wisdom that serves our ends,
Know-ing it as we do.
HORATIO.
That is for sure.
HAMLET.
Going to my room,
My dressing-gown lay’d upon me, in the dark
Wish’d Try to find out why; but my wits,
They’d not work, and in despair, went
To my own room again, not so bright,
With fears and doubts, to find
The royal order; and I found, Indeed,
The royal order! the royal order,
Issued for many different parts of europe,
And France’s too, and England’s too,
And hamlet! with ghosts and goblins in the house,
There was no chance, no chance whatsoever,
That, fore fore of the execution of the order,
My head would be cut off.
HORATIO.
Isn’t it?
HAMLET.
That’s the play, write it at your leisure.
And wilt thou tell me how I wrote it?
HORATIO.
I tell you.
HAMLET.
When first called upon by them,—
Before I could make a complaint to my master,
I had written the play,—They sent me away,
Write’d a new play, wrote it myself:
I had proved to them, as all writers do,
My ability to write well, and i’ve always
Feared to lose my pen; but, fortunately, now
It is at god’s command. Wilt thou know
The name of what I wrote?
HORATIO.
Yes, please my lord.
HAMLET.
An open letter to the Master,
And Also to his faithful servant,
That peace between them and each other should remain,
That they should both be bound to keep
And keep and seal ’d their contents,
With a seal-word ‘s’d of great strength,
That was the object and purpose of the letter,
And that therefore, more or less,
They were the same as in their contents,
The seal-word seal’d.
HORATIO.
And was it seal’d?
HAMLET.
No, but then it was the same.
I found my master’s letter in his chest,
He being the keeper of the Great seal:
And the other letter took the place of the first,
Seal’d it: seal’d th’letter; seal’d it again,
The error was corrected. Now, the first day
Of our sea-voyage, and what i did was that
I seal’d it.
HORATIO.
And I think I did seal’d.
HAMLET.
No, no, i cannot make excuses to the gods.
They know nothing of my will; their will
Will grow their will will grow.
’Tis true that my own will is
At the highest and the lowest levels
Of my being.
HORATIO.
Oh, what a pity all this!
HAMLET.
With this arm, can’t he, with it so long,—
He who has kill’d my father, and kill’d my mother,
Kill’d away all my’s for his own,
Taken away my life for his own gain,
And with these arms—isn’t it our nature
To do evil with this arm? Or isn’t it to be kill’d
To make an arm of our own strength
For the good?
HORATIO.
It will soon become clear to all of Us
What is the nature of this arm now.
HAMLET.
Life will be short. The choice is yours;
For a man’s life’s worth more than just his ‘Arm’.
And I am so glad, my Lord,
That to Him I surrender myself;
For from the corner of my eye I see
That sorrow of his. I’ll share his sorrow.
And soon the pain of his sorrow will turn me
Into a man’s man.
HORATIO.
Well, what of it?
Said Osric.
OSRIC.
Your lordship is now given over to Me.
HAMLET.
You do know him, horatio. You know this man?
HORATIO.
Yes, my sweet lord.
HAMLET.
Your lordship is indeed most fortunate; and ’tis my duty to serve him. He has much power, much wealth; let the king get rid of him, and his head shall be in the king’s hands; ’tis a crime; and, dare I say, not in the hands of me.
OSRIC.
My lord, if your lordship were at liberty, I would give a reward to you for his Head.
HAMLET.
I would give rewards in all sorts of ways. Put your lordship to his best use; ’tis not the same.
OSRIC.
I tell your lordship, ’tis very cold.
HAMLET.
Oh, my lord, ’tis very cold, the wind is blowing.
OSRIC.
It is very cold, my lord, indeed.
HAMLET.
And it is very sultry and dangerous for your lordship.
OSRIC.
Yes, my lord; it is very dangerous,—don ’t—I will tell you. Now, my lord, your Lordship bids me report to you that he has landed a good blow on your lordship. Now, what is the matter,—
HAMLET.
I tell you, sir,—
[Hamlet tells him to put on his cloak.]
OSRIC.
Yes, in good faith; yes my lord, in good faith. Now, how did he come to meet You; i mean, an honest man, and of a good family, with a good heart and good sense. But, to speak feelingly of him, there is no part or whole of him; and you cannot see in him the whole of what ever a man can do.
HAMLET.
Well, your lordship sees no part of him, and I say, to see him you must see no’part of him, you must not know him, in spite of his great fame. But, in the midst of this, You find him to be a man of his own and a man of such charm and grace that, to make a man of him, his face is his own and nothing else can save him from it, nothing else.
OSRIC.
Your lordship speaks most highly of him.
HAMLET.
This gentleman, sir? Or shall i call you sir in a more appropriate tongue?
OSRIC.
Sir?
HORATIO.
Isn’t it better to speak in another tongue? No you don’t, sir, horatio.
HAMLET.
What is the worth of this gentleman?
OSRIC.
Of Him?
HORATIO.
My tongue is dry now, horatio’s last words are dry.
HAMLET.
Of him, sir.
OSRIC.
I hope you are not saying,—
HAMLET.
I hope you are, sir; but i know if you were, it would not be of him. Excellence, sir?
OSRIC.
You are not sure of who he Really is,—
HAMLET.
I dare not say so, lest I should go against him in battle; for i know the king well enough to know him.
OSRIC.
I hope, sir, for your sake; that by the charges laid on him, and those laid on me he’s innocent.
HAMLET.
What’s his weapon?
OSRIC.
Sword and shield.
HAMLET.
That’s two of his weapons. Very good.
OSRIC.
The King, sir, hath order’d upon him six French carriages, out of which he has brought, as I understand it, six French shields and swords, and as well, and so, so, and so. Two of the swords, in particular, are very dear to me, and belong to the finest, most skilled hands, and of very high quality.
HAMLET.
He brought out the carriages?
HORATIO.
I thought you would be pleased with the work that he has done.
OSRIC.
The horses, sir, and the cannon.
HAMLET.
The danes would be very grateful to the king if we should have them on our side. I thought there would be something like that. But no. Six Danish swords against six French swords, three horses, and three very fine cannon: that’s the French sword against the Danish. How is that even possible, as you put it?
OSRIC.
The French, sir, hath sworn that in the present contest between you and me, he would not give you ten swords. He hath agreed to settle for six. But it did get to the point where his majesty would know the difference.
HAMLET.
How can You say that?
OSRIC.
I am, my lord, the captain of the men at arms.
HAMLET.
Well, I shall remain here in the castle. If it please his Majesty, it is not the time of day for me. Should the knight be willing, the queen willing, and the King on his way, I shall go with them if I may; if not, I shall have nothing but my armour and a short sword.
OSRIC.
Shall I under-arm you e’er again?
HAMLET.
To that effect, yes; in the manner his majesty commands.
OSRIC.
I do my duty to his majesty.
HAMLET.
Mine, too.
[From Hamlet.]
He will have to say it again, there are no words for hamlet’s speech.
HORATIO.
The king walks away with the crown on his head.
HAMLET.
He walked away with the crown when he see’d it. And so many,—so many all of the little things the Wisdom of the old world depends upon,— have had a taste of the power and the glory of it; a taste of the power, which fills them up and destroys all things dear to their hearts; but do not bring them to their knees, when words are spoken,
By the King.
LORD.
My lord, his Majesty is brought to you by sir Percival, who bids it please him that you meet him in the hall. He wishes to know whether your purpose is to speak to Him or whether you will speak in answer.
HAMLET.
I am true to my word, and to the King’s word. When his majesty speaks, he is heard. If and when, may I be so good as to.
LORD.
The King and Queen and i are coming together.
HAMLET.
In due course.
LORD.
The Queen wishes you to say some kind words to Her before you begin to speak.
HAMLET.
She still loves him.
[My Lord.]
HORATIO.
I shall win this battle, my lord.
HAMLET.
I do not think so. Since i went to War, I have been making good men. I shall fight to the last. And i do not know how long it’s been in my mind: perhaps it is no longer.
HORATIO.
Please, open your mind.
HAMLET.
It is not easy; and it is not the sort of mind-opening that will ever satisfy a man.
HORATIO.
If your heart says so, open it. It will hear you at last, and know you are not alone.
HAMLET.
Not a sparrow, they call it. There’s no better call than the call of a sparrow. If it be soon, ’tis soon to come; if it be soon to come, it must be soon; if it be not soon, then it must not. The answer is simple. If a man is as good as he is, who isn’t worth his time?
The King, Hamlet, Laertes, Guards, Servants and Maids and servants &guards.
KING.
Come, Son, come, and take this man from him.
[The King puts Laertes’s hand on Hamlet’s.]
HAMLET.
Give me your hand, son. I have done you wrong;
I don’t think you are a man.
A man knows, as you may well have known,
That I am wrong’d with this man.
What I have done
Is for your sake, son, and for
Your sake, I will do you wrong.
Hasn’t Hamlet wrong’d Laertes? Never Mind.
If Hamlet lets himself be wrong’d again,
And if he’s let himself be wrong Again,
If He is wrong again, Who does it.
Who does it, son? His madness. Don’t be silly,
He is not the one who is wrong’d;
His madness is not Hamlet’s madness.
But, in this case,
Let me escape from your wrong’d love
Forever and be glad of the first bright day
When I have made my way o’er the world
And found my way.
LAERTES.
I am evil by nature,
And evil in this world will bring me down
On my knees. But in a place of peace
I stand firm, and will not fall
Until after my true nature is revealed and
I know my time and place of birth
And of my being wrong’d. And at that time
I will embrace your wrong’d love and devotion,
And will not deny it.
HAMLET.
I know it all,
I know the king’s wager by heart.—
Give them the foils; play them.
LAERTES.
Please, play for me.
HAMLET.
I’ll be your foil, Sir; in my heart
Your love is like a star o’ th’ night sky,
And not far away.
LAERTES.
I swear it, sir.
HAMLET.
No, not my lord.
KING.
Give them the foils, and Play. Sir Hamlet,
You know the odds?
HAMLET.
Very well, my lord.
His Majesty has known the odds o’ the other two.
KING.
I do not doubt it. I have told him so;
And as he is th’king, i know the odds.
LAERTES.
This is very good. Let them play again.
HAMLET.
This is very good. The foils have reached their limit?
[They begin to play.]
OSRIC.
Play, my good friend.
KING.
Give me the cups of wine on the table.
Let Me hear the first and second exchanges,
And then the beginning of the third exchange,
As from the beginning the trumpets blow;
The King shall drink to Hamlet’s third exchange,
And at the end of it shall he wear
More than that which all the kings
Of Shakespeare’s time have worn. Give me the cups;
And at the beginning does the trumpets blow,
The earth to the heavens say,
The earth to the heavens, the heavens to earth,
‘Let the King drink to This.’ Now, king.
May you, my lord, keep a careful watch.
HAMLET.
Come in, please.
LAERTES.
Yes, my lord.
[They play.]
HAMLET.
Yes.
LAERTES.
Yes.
HAMLET.
Yes.
OSRIC.
A hit, a very good hit.
LAERTES.
Yes; now.
KING.
Come, let us drink. Now, the cup is ready;
It’s for the king.
[A shot, a good shot of wine.]
Give me the cup.
HAMLET.
We’ll sing the song again; know it by heart.
[They play.]
Hamlet. A touch; what say you?
LAERTES.
A touch, a touch, I will drink.
KING.
Thy head shall fall.
QUEEN.
He’s pale, and short of breath.
Come, Madam, take my hand, wipe thy face.
The Poison is in the cup, Madam.
HAMLET.
Foolish girl.
KING.
Madam, do not drink.
QUEEN.
I beg, my lord; I pray you forgive me.
KING.
[Aside.] It is the poison’s work; it is too late.
HAMLET.
I will not drink it, madam. By and by.
QUEEN.
Come, let me wipe thy face.
LAERTES.
My lord, I’ll give thee peace.
KING.
You know i won’t.
LAERTES.
[Aside.] And it ’s o ’er thy head.
HAMLET.
Listen to the king, Please. I am not mad.
I pray you listen to my lord king.
I pray you not make a fool of me.
LAERTES.
Are you mad? Come again.
[Queen falls.]
OSRIC.
Find a way.
LAERTES.
Look at them now.
[King and Queen; then, in unison, they draw nearer, to You and Me.]
KING.
Watch them; they are kill’d.
HAMLET.
No, not yet!
[The Queen falls.]
OSRIC.
Look at the Men bleeding, king!
HORATIO.
They bleed from all sides. How is that, my king?
OSRIC.
How a’that, Laertes?
LAERTES.
Oh, what a blow to my own pride, King.
I am being poison’d by my own treachery.
HAMLET.
How is my Queen?
KING.
She wants to see me die.
QUEEN.
No, no, the drink, the drink! Oh my dear Queen!
The drink, the drink! I am poison’d.
[Falls.]
HAMLET.
Oh no! No! Let the king be poison’d:
No! Let me die.
[Long pause.]
LAERTES.
Death is near, Queen. Queen, thou art ill.
No drink in the world will do thee good.
For me there is not even an ounce of food;
The foul poison flows through my veins,
Poisoned and envenom’d. The foul poison
En poison’d me to death. Queen, here I lie,
Unable to rise again. My body’s poison’d.
I drink no more. The Point, the Point’s to death.
HAMLET.
The poison poison’d me!
Here, queen, is thy union.
[Dies as Well.]
FINAL chorus HAMLET.
Treason! treason!
KING.
The gods help thee, queen. I drink no more.
HAMLET.
Thou, o vain, vain, vain Queen,
Drink not thy poison. Is thy father dead?
And thy mother.
[Also dies.]
LAERTES.
It is not poison’d.
It is not poison poison’d to thee.
Take it from me, o Queen.
Word of thy father’s death is not upon thee,
And not upon me.
[Dies.]
HAMLET.
I set thee free of poison! I tell you.
I am dead, Horatio. Truly Dead, horatio.
Those that are left are astonished at this news,
And have no desire to tell you the truth,
Had They not known,—that the old man, horatio,
Was still in the house,—Horatio, I cannot tell you,—
How could it be. Horatio, I am sorry,
I can’t; let me and my friends speak
For the dead.
HORATIO.
I tell you.
I am more an old Man than a Man.
There’s still some time left.
HAMLET.
If you’re my friend,
Give me some time. Now go; by God, I’ll can’t.
The name Horatio, such a good name,
And so much love, must be given up.
If thou would not have me in thy heart,
Take it from me now,
And in thy next life spend some time with me,
And with thy friends.
[He broke off, and corrected himself.]
The last lines of hamlet?
OSRIC.
Prince Fortinbras, the ambassador sent by Persia,
Meets the king of England at
The royal palace.
HAMLET.
Hamlet, I say, Hamlet.
The persian ambassador has ne’er-touched my heart:
I cannot bear to hear the news from Him,
But I can tell he’s bent
On Revenge. He has a death wish.
I kill him, and the others more or less,
Who have come. The rest is history.
[Chorus.]
HORATIO.
Enter with a heavy heart. The drums, my prince,
The voices of death call thee to thy doom.
Why does the drumming grow louder?
[Act ii.]
Enter Fortinbras, the Other Ambassadors and horatio.
FORTINBRAS.
What is the matter?
HORATIO.
What is it you cannot find?
Then out of fear and despair, enters the prince.
FORTINBRAS.
The drum cries out again. But my prince,
What evil is there in that dreadful drum,
That has killed many men in a time
So long has passed?
FIRST AMBASSADOR.
The prince is here;
But our ambassadors from England are too late.
The drums are all that can make it stop,
And tell us what it is tell’em,
That Rosencrantz and I are dead.
Where shall we place our bodies?
HORATIO.
As for my brother,
I have th’whole of history to tell you.
I have no motive for his murder.
And now, seeing that at this very moment,
We have two Dead men, and one of Them
Has been kill’d, i suggest that their bodies
Placed on the spot and put to good use,
And let me explain to th’ yet another man
How these deaths came about. What do we know
Of sudden, sudden and unexpected deaths,
Of accidental deaths, of accidents,
Of deaths come about by accident or kill’d accidents,
Or, in this case, accidents that
Kill’d only the victims’ lives. None of this I
Can say.
FORTINBRAS.
Let me try to speak first,
And give the same to the others.
And now, with cause To tell my tale.
I have little left in me in this world,
And yet to speak my tale will draw more.
HORATIO.
Of course He will have a tale to tell,
And in his turn his tale will draw still more.
But let the tale be pro ev’d,
Even when men’s hearts are broken, and a breaking
Of hearts and minds follows.
FORTINBRAS.
The mounted soldiers
Carry Him on a litter from the field,
Whom he is sure, had he not looked on,
Would think he’s gone mad; but for his part,
The soldiers’ cries and the sound of shot
Bring joy to him.
Bring off the bodies. Such a custom as is
Upon the field, but there is one condition.
First, that the soldiers march.
[The soldiers march.]
[Second, bring off the heads, from which a portion of hair is cut off.]