You will reveal it.

Hor. Not I, my lord, by heaven.

Mar. Nor I, my lord.

Ham. How say you then? would heart of man But you'll be secret,— [once think it? Hor. & Mar. Ay, by heaven, my lord. Ham. There's ne'er a villain, dwelling in all But he's an arrant knave. [Denmark, Hor. There needs no ghost, my lord, come To tell us this. [from the grave, Ham. Why, right; you are in the right; And 80, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit, that we shake hands, and part: You, as your business and desire shall point you; For every man hath business and desire, Such as it is, and, for my own poor part, Look yon, I will go pray.

[my lord, Hor. These are but wild and whirling words, Ham. I am sorry they offend you, heartily; 'Faith, heartily: [yes,

Hor. There's no offence, my lord.
Ham. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is,
Horatio,

And much offence too. Touching this vision here,-
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you:
For your desire to know what is between us,
O'er-master it as you may. And now, good friends;
As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,
Give me one poor request.

Hor. What is't, my lord?

We will.

Ham. Never make known what you have seen Hor. & Mar. My lord, we will not. [to-night. Ham. Nay, but swear't.

Hor. In faith,

My lord, not I.

Mar. Nor I, my lord, in faith.
Ham. Upon my sword.

Mar. We have sworn, my lord, already.
Ham. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.,

SCENE I. A ROOM IN POLONIUS'S HOUSE. Enter Polonius and Reynaldo.

Ham. And therefore as a stranger give it welThere are more things in heaven and earth, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. [Horatio, But come ;

Here, as before, never, so help you mercy
How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,
As I, perchance, hereafter shall think meet
To put an antic disposition on ;—
That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As, Well, well, we know; or, We could, an if we
would; or, If we list to speak; or, There be, an if
they might;

Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
That you know aught of me :-this do you swear,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you!
Ghost. [beneath] Swear.
[men,
Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So, gentle-
With all my love I do commend me to you;
And what so poor a man as Hamlet is
May do, to express his love and friending to you,
God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together,
And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.
The time is out of joint ;-O cursed spite!
That ever I was born to set it right!
Nay, come, let's go together

[exeunt.

As thus, I know his father, and his friends,
And, in part, him;'-Do you mark this, Rey-
Rey. Ay, very well, my lord.
[naldo?

Pol. And, in part, him ;'-but, you may say,
But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild; ['not well.
Addicted so and so;'-and there put on him
What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank
As may dishonour him: take heed of that;
But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual, slips,
As are companions noted and most known
To youth and liberty.

Rey. As, gaming, my lord.

Pol. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quar*Drabbing :-you may go so far. [relling,

Rey. My lord, that would dishonour him. Pol. 'Faith, no; as you may season it in the You must not put another scandal on him, [charge That he is open to incontinency;

That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly,

That they may seem the taints of liberty:
The flash and out-break of a fiery mind;
A savageness in unreclaimed blood,
Of general assault.

Rey. But, my good lord,—

Pol. Wherefore should you do this?
Rey. Ay, my lord,

I would know that.

Pol. Marry, sir, here's my drift;
And, I believe, it is a fetch of warrant.
You laying these slight sullies on my son,
As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working,
Mark you,

Your party in converse, him you would sound,
Having ever seen, in the prenominate crimes,
The youth you breathe of, guilty, be assur'd,
He closes with you in this consequence;
'Good sir,' or so; or friend,' or 'gentleman,'
According to the phrase, or the addition,
Of man and country.

Rey. Very good, my lord.

Pol. And then, sir, does he this, he does-what was I about to say?-By the mass, I was about to say something;—where did I leave? Rey. At, closes in the consequence. [1 [marry;' Pol. At, closes in the consequence. Ay, Ile closes with you thus: I know the gentleman; I saw him yesterday, or t'other day, [say, Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you There was he gaming; there o'ertook in his rouse; There falling out at tennis; or, perchance, I saw him enter such a house of sale, (Videlicet, a brothel), or so forth.'— See you now;

Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth:
And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,

• With windlaces, and with assays of bias,
By indirections find directions out;
So, by my former lecture and advice,

Shall you, my son; you have me, have you not?
Rey. My lord, I have.

Pol. God be wi' you; fare you well.

Rey. Good, my lord,——

Pol. Observe his inclination in yourself.

Rey. I shall, my lord.

Pol. And let him ply his music.

Rey. Well, my lord.

Enter Ophelia.

[exit.

Pol. Farewell!-How now, Ophelia; what's the matter? [affrighted! Oph. O, my lord, my lord, I have been so Pol. With what, in the name of heaven? Oph. My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd ; No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle; Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so piteous in purport, As if he had been loosed out of hell, To speak of horrors,-he comes before me. Pol. Mad for thy love?

Oph. My lord, I do not know;

But, truly, I do fear it.

Pol. What said he?

Oph. He took me by the wrist, and held me
Then goes he to the length of all his arm; [hard;
And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
He falls to such perusal of my face,

As he would draw it. Long staid he so:
At last, a little shaking of mine arm,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound,
As it did seem to shatter all his bulk,
And end his being: that done, he lets me go:
And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;
For out o'doors he went without their helps,
And, to the last, bended their light on me.

Pol. Come, go with me; I will go seek the king. This is the very ecstasy of love;

Whose violent property foredoes itself,
And leads the will to desperate undertakings,
As oft as any passion under heaven,

That does afflict our natures. I am sorry,—
What, have you given him any hard words of late?
Oph. No, my good lord; but, as you did com-
I did repel his letters, and denied
[mand,
His access to me.

Pol. That hath made him mad.

I am sorry, that with better heed and judgment
I had not quoted him: I fear'd, he did but trifle,
And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my
It seems, it is as proper to our age [jealousy!
To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions,
As it is common for the younger sort
To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king:
This must be known; which, being kept close, might
More grief to hide, than hate to utter love. [move
Come.
[exeunt.

SCENE II. A ROOM IN THE CASTLE.

Enter King, Queen, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and Attendants.

King. Welcome, dear Rosencrantz, and GuildenMoreover that we much did long to see you, [stern! The need, we have to use you, did provoke Our hasty sending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet's transformation; so I call it, Since not the exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was: what it should be, More than his father's death, that thus hath put him So much from the understanding of himself, I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, That,-being of so young days brought up with him; [humour,And, since, so neighbour'd to his youth and That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time: so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures; and to gather, So much as from occasion you may glean, Whether aught, to us unknown, afflict him thus, That, open'd, lies within our remedy.

[you;

Queen. Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of And, sure I am, two men there are not living, To whom he more adheres. If it will please you To shew us so much gentry, and good will, As to expend your time with us a while, For the supply and profit of our hope, Your visitation shall receive such thanks As fits a king's remembrance.

Ros. Both your majesties

Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty.

Guil. But we both obey;

And here give up ourselves, in the full bent,
To lay our service freely at your feet,
To be commanded.

[stern.
King. Thanks, Rosencrantz, and gentle Guilden-
Queen. Thanks, Guildenstern, and gentle Rosen-
And I beseech you instantly to visit [crantz:
My too-much changed son.-Go, some of you,
And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
Guil. Heavens make our presence, and our prac-
Pleasant and helpful to him!
[tices,

Queen. Ay, amen!
[exeunt Rosen. Guild. and some Attendants.
Enter Polonius.

Pol. The ambassadors from Norway, my good
Are joyfully return'd.
[lord,
King. Thou still hast been the father of good news.
Pol. Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good liege,
I hold my duty, as I hold my soul,
Both to my God, and to my gracious king:
And I do think (or else this brain of mine
Hunts not the trail of policy so sure
As it hath us'd to do), that I have found
The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.

King. O, speak of that; that do I long to hear. Pol. Give first admittance to the ambassadors; My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. King. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. [exit Polonius. He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found The head and source of all your son's distemper.

Queen. I doubt, it is no other but the main ; His father's death, and our o'er-hasty marriage. Re-enter Polonius, with Voltimand and Cornelius. Kiny. Well, we shall sift him.-Welcome, my good friends!

Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?
Volt. Most fair return of greetings, and desires.
Upon our first, he sent out to suppress
His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd
To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack;
But, better look'd into, he truly found

It was against your highness: whereat griev'd,-
That so his sickness, age, and impotence,
Was falsely borne in hand,-sends out arrests
On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys;
Receives rebuke from Norway, and, in fine,
Makes vow before his uncle, never more
To give th' assay of arms against your majesty
Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,
Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee;
And his commission, to employ those soldiers,
So levied as before, against the Polack:
With an entreaty, herein further shown,

Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together:
Most welcome home! [exeunt Volt. and Cor
Pol. This business is well ended.

My liege, and madam, to expostulate
What majesty should be, what duty is,

Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time.
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,--
I will be brief: your noble son is mad:
Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,
What is't, but to be nothing else but mad?
But let that go.

Queen. More matter, with less art.

Pol. Madam, I swear I use no art at all.
That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true, 'tis pity;
And pity 'tis, 'tis true: a foolish figure;
But farewell it, for I will use no art.
Mad let us grant him then: and now remains,
That we find out the cause of this effect;
Or rather say, the cause of this defect;
For this effect, defective, comes by cause
Thus it remains, and the remainder thus.
Perpend.

I have a daughter; have, while she is mine;
Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,
Hath given me this. Now, gather and surmise.

To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified Ophelia,'

That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; a vile phrase; but you shall hear.

'beautified' is Thus:

1

O, dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; have not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O, most best, believe it. Adieu.

Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him, Hamlet. This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me: And more above, hath his solicitings,

As they fell out by time, by means, and place, All given to mine ear.

King. But how hath she

Receiv'd his love?

Pol. What do you think of me?

King. As of a man faithful and honourable.

Pol. I would fain prove so. But what might you When I had seen this hot love on the wing, [think, (As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that, Before my daughter told me,) what might you, Or my dear majesty, your queen here, think, If I had play'd the desk, or table-book; Or given my heart a working, mute and dumb; Or look'd upon this love with idle sight? What might you think? No, I went round to work, And my young mistress thus did I bespeak; 'Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy sphere; This must not be;' and then I precepts gave her That she should lock herself from his resort, Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. Which done, she took the fruits of my advice,

comes, reading.

Pol. Away, I do beseech you, both away; I'll board him presently.-O, give me leave. [exeunt King, Queen, and Attendants.

How does my good lord Hamlet?
Ham. Well, God-'a-mercy.
Pol. Do you know me, my lord?
Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.
Pol. Not I, my lord.

Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man.
Pol. Honest, my lord?

Ham. Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.

Pol. That's very true, my lord.

Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god, kissing carrion,-have you a daughter?

Pol. I have, my lord.

Ham. Let her not walk i'the sun: conception is a blessing; but as your daughter may conceive, -friend, look to't.

Pol. How say you by that? [aside] Still harping on my daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said, I was a fishmonger. He is far gone, far gone: and, truly, in my youth I suffered much extremity for love; very near this. I'll speak to nim again. What do you read, my lord? Ham. Words, words, words!

Pol. What is the matter, my lord?
Ham. Between who?

Pol. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. Ham. Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here, that old men have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thick amber, and plumtree gum; and that they have a plentiful

lack of wit, together with most weak hams: all of which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, shall be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward.

Pol. Though this be madness, yet there's method in it. [aside] Will you walk out of the air, my lord?

Ham. Into my grave?

Pol. Indeed, that is out o'the air. How preg nant sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter. My honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.

Ham. You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal; except my life, except my life, except my life.

Pol. Fare you well, my lord.
Ham. These tedious old fools!

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Pol. You go to seek the lord Hamlet; there he is.
Ros. God save you, sir! [to Polonius: exit Pol.
Guil. My honour'd lord!

Ros. My most dear lord!

Ham. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both?

Ros. As the indifferent children of the earth. ' Guil. Happy, in that we are not over happy; On fortune's cap we are not the very button. Ham. Nor the soles of her shoe?

Ros. Neither, my lord.

Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favours?

Guil. 'Faith, her privates we.

Ham. In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she is a strumpet. What news?

Ros. None, my lord; but that the world s grown honest.

Ham. Then is dooms-day near. But your news is not true. Let me question more in particular. What have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, that she sends you to prison hither?

Guil. Prison, my lord!
Ham. Denmark's a prison.
Ros. Then is the world one.

Ham. A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons; Denmark being one of the worst.

Ros. We think not so, my lord.

Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: To me it is a prison.

Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind.

Ham. O God! I could be bounded in a ontsheli, and count myself a king of infinite space; were it not that I have bad dreams.

Guil. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.

Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.

Ros. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality, that it is but a shadow's shadow. Ham. Then are our beggars, bodies, and our monarchs, and outstretch'd heroes, the beggars' shadows. Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason.

Ros. & Guil. We'll wait upon you,

Ham. No such matter; I will not sort you with the rest of my servants; for, to speak to you like

turous knight shall use his foil and target: the lover shall not sigh gratis: the humorous man shall end his part in peace: the clown shall make those laugh, whose lungs are tickled o'the sere; and the lady shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt for't.-What players are they?

Ros. Even those you were wont to take such delight in, the tragedians of the city.

Ham. How chances it, they travel? their resi

Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear, a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, come; deal justly with me; come, come; nay, speak.`

You

Guil. What should we say, my lord? Ham. Any thing-but to the purpose. were sent for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: I know, the good king and queen have sent for you,

Ros. To what end, my lord?

Ham. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you were sent for, »r no?

Ros. What say you?

[to Guildenstern, Hum. Nay, then I have an eye of you; [aside] -if you love me, hold not off.

Guil. My lord, we were sent for.

Ham. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult no feather. I have of late (but, wherefore, I know not,) lost all my mirth, foregone all custom of exercises: and, indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form, and moving, how express and admirable! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me, nor woman neither; though, by your smiling, you seem to say so. [thoughts. Ros. My lord, there is no such stuff in my Ham. Why did you laugh then, when I said, man delights not me?'

both ways.

Ros. I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation.

Ham. Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city? Are they so followed? Ros. No, indeed, they are not.

Ham. How comes it? Do they grow rusty? Ros. Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace; but there is, sir, an aiery of children, little eyases that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the fashion; and so berattle the common stages (so they call them) that many, wearing rapiers, are afraid of goose quills, and dare scarce come thither.

Ham. What, are they children? who maintains them? how are they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing? will they not say afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common players (as it is most like, if their means are no better,) their writers do them wrong, to make them exclaim against their own succession?

Ros. 'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and the nation hold it no sin, to tarre them on to controversy; there was, for awhile, no money bid for argument, unless the poet and the player went to cuffs in the question.

Ham. Is it possible?

Guil. O, there has been much throwing about of brains.

Ham. Do the boys carry it away?

Ros. Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too.

Ham. It is not very strange: for my uncle is king of Denmark; and those, that would make mouths at him while my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, an hundred, ducats a-piece, for his picture in little. 'Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.

[flourish of trumpets within. Guil. There are the players.

Ham. Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. -Your hands,-Come; then the appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb; lest my extent to the players, which, tell you, must show fairly outward, should more appear like entertainment than yours. You are welcome; but my unclefather, and aunt-mother, are deceived.

Guil. In what, my dear lord?

Ham. I am but mad north-north west: when the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a hand-saw.