King. What do you call the play? Ham. The mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is the duke's name, his wife, Baptista: you shall see anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: But what of that? your majesty, and we that have free souls, it touches us not: Let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung.— Enter Lucianus.

This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king.
Oph. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
Ham. 1 could interpret between you and your
love, if I could see the puppets dallying.

Oph. You are keen, my lord, you are keen. Ham. It would cost you a groaning, to take off Oph. Still better, and worse.

Ham. So you mistake your husbands.-Begin, murderer; leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come;

-The croaking raven

Doth bellow for revenge.

Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing;

Confederate season, else no creature seeing;
Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,
With Hecat's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
Thy natural magick and dire property,
On wholesome life usurp immediately.

[Pours the Poison into the Sleeper's Ears. Ham. He poisons him i' the garden for his estate. His name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and written in very choice Italian: You shall see unon, how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife.

Oph. The king rises.

Ham. What! frighted with false fire!
Queen. How fares my lord ?

Pol. Give o'er the play.

King. Give ine some light-away!
Pol. Lights, lights, lights!

[Exeunt all but Hamlet and Horatio. Ham. Why let the strucken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play:

For some must watch, while some must sleep; Thus runs the world away.Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers (if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me,) with two provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir?

Hor. Half a share.

Ham. A whole one, I.

For thou dost know, O Damon dear,
This realm dismantled was

Of Jove himself; and now reigns here

A very, very-peacock.

Hor. You might have rhymed.

Ham. O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pound. Didst perceive? Hor. Very well, my lord.

Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning,-
Hor. I did very well note him.
Ham. Ah, hal-Come, some musick; come,
the recorders.-

For if the king like not the comedy,
Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy.
Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Ham. O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother!-but is there no sequel at the heela of this mother's admiration 7 impart.

Ros, She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you go to bed.

Ham. We shall obey were she ten times our mother. Have you any further trade wth us? Ros. My lord, you once did love me. Ham. And do still, by these pickers and

stealers.

Ros. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you do surely but bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your griefa to your friend.

Ham. Sir, I lack advancement.

Ros. How can that be, when you have the voice of the king himself for your succession

in Denmark ?

Ham. Ay, sir, but While the grass grows,the proverb is something musty.

Enter the Players, with Recorders.

O, the recorders-let me see one.-To with draw with you.-Why do you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me into a toil ?

Guil. O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.

Ham. I do not well understand that. Will
you play upon this pipe?
Guil. My, lord, I cannot.
Ham. I pray you.

Guil. Believe me, I cannot.
Ham. I do beseech you.

Guil. I know no touch of it, my lord.

Ham. 'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with your fingers and thumb, give à breath with your mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent musick. Look you, these are the stops.

Guil. But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony; I have not the skill. Ham. Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me? You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much musick, excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me. Enter Polonius.

Pol. I will say so. [Exit Polonius. Ham. By and by is easily said.-Leave me, friends. [Exeunt Ros. Guil. Hor. Sc. 'Tis now the very witching time of night; When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes

out

Contagion to this world: Now could I drink hot blood,

And do such bitter business as the day

But to confront the visage of offence;
And what's in prayer but this two-fold force,-
To be forestalled, ere we come to fall,
Or pardon'd, being down? Then I'll look up;
My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer
Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul mur-
That cannot be; since I am still possess'd

der!

mother,

I your commission will forthwith despatch, And he to England shall along with you: The terms of our estate may not endure Hazard so near us, as doth hourly grow Out of his lunes.

Guil.

We will ourselves provide: Most holy and religious fear it is, To keep those many, many bodies safe, That live and feed upon your majesty, Ros. The single and peculiar life is bound, With all the strength and armour of the mind, To keep itself from 'noyance; but much more That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest The lives of many. The cease of majesty Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw What's near it, with it: it is a massy wheel, Fix'd on the summit of the bighest mount, To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things Are mortis'd and adjoin'd; which, when it falls, Each small annexment, petty consequence, Attends the boist'rous ruin. Never alone Did the king sigh, but with a general groan. King. Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy

voyage;

For we will fetters put upon this fear,
Which now goes too free-footed.
Ros. Guil.

We will haste us. [Exeunt Ros. and Guil. Enter Polonius.

Pol. My lord, he's going to his mother's closet; Behind the arras I'll convey myself,

To hear the process; I'll warrant she'll tax him home;

And as you said, and wisely was it said,

My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.
May one be pardon'd, and retain the offence?
In the corrupted currents of this world,
Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice;
And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself
Buys out the law: But 'tis not so above:
There is no shuffling, there the action lies
In his true nature and we ourselves compell'd,
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faulis,
To give in evidence. What then? what rests?
Try what repentance can: What can it not?
Yet what can it, when one cannot repent?
O wretched state! O bosom, black as death!
O limed soul; that struggling to be free,
Art more engag'd! Help, angels, make assay!
Bow, stubborn knees! and, heart, with strings
of steel,

Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe;
All may be well!

[Retires and kneels.

Enter Hamlet.

Ham. Now might I do it, pat, now he is praying;

And now I'll do't; and so he goes to heaven :
And so am I reveng'd? That would be scann'd:
A villain kills my father; and, for that,
I, his sole son, do this same villain send'
To heaven.

Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge.
He took my father grossly full of bread:
With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as

May;

And, how his audit stands, who knows, save heaven?

But in our circumstance and course of thought,
"Tis heavy with him: And am I then reveng'd,
To take him in the purging of his soul,
When he is fit and season'd for his
passage
?
No.
Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent;
When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage;
Or in the incestuous pleasures of his bed;
At gaming, swearing; or about some act
That has no relish of salvation in't:
Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven:
And that his soul may be as damn'd, and black,
As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays:
This physick but prolongs thy sickly days..

[Erit. The King rises and advances. King. My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:

hear

[Exit Polonius. O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven; It hath the primal eldest curse upon't, A brother's murder!-Pray can I not, Though inclination be as sharp as will; My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; And, like a man to double business bound, I stand in pause where I shall first begin, And both neglect. What if this cursed hand,

[Exit. SCENE IV. Another Room in the same. Enter Queen and Polonius.

Pol. He will come straight. Look, you lay home to him:

Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with:

And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between

Much heat and him. I'll silence me e'en here. 'Pray you, be round with him.

Queen. I'll warrant you; Fear me not-withdraw, I hear him coming. [Polonius rides himself.

No, by the rood, not so: You are a queen, your husband's brother's wife ;

And, 'would it were not so !-you are my mo

ther.

Queen. Nay, then I'll set those to you that can speak.

Ham. Come, come, and sit you down: you shall not budge;

You go not, tili I set you up a glass

Where you may see the inmost part of you.

murder me?

Help, help, ho!

Pol. [Behind.] What, ho! help!
Ham.
How now! a rat? [Draws.

Dead, for a ducat, dead.
[Hamlet makes a pass through the Arras.
Pol. [Behind.]
O, I am slain.
[Falls, and dies.
Queen. O me, what hast thou done?
Ham.

Is it the king?

Nay, I know not:

[Lifts up the Arras, and draws forth

Polonius.

As kill a king, and marry with his brother.
Queen. As kill a king!
Ham.

If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,
And melt in her own fire; proclaim no shame,
When the compulsive ardour gives the charge;
Since frost itself as actively doth burn,
And reason panders will.
Queen.

O Hamlet, speak no more:
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;
And there I see such black and grained spots
As will not leave their tinct.
Ham.

Nay, but to live
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed;
Stew'd in corruption; honeying, and making
love
Over the nasty sty;
Queen.

These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears:
O, speak to me no more;
No more, sweet Hamlet.
Ham.

A murderer, and a villain;

down,

Such an act,

That blurs the grace and blush of modesty ;
Calls virtue. hypocrite; takes off the rose
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
And sets a blister there; makes marriage vows
As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul; and sweet religion makes
A rhapsody of words: Heaven's face doth glow;
Yea, this solidity and compound mass,
With tristful visage, as against the doom,
Is thought-sick at the act.

Queen.
Ah me, what act,
That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?
Ham. Look here upon this picture, and on this;
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.
See what a grace was seated on this brow:
Hyperion's curls: the front of Jove himself;
An eye like Mars', to threaten and command;
A station like the herald Mercury
New-lighted on a heaven kissing hill;
A combination, and a form, indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal,

Ham.

No more. Enter Ghost.

A king

Of shreds and patches:-
Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,
You heavenly guards !-What would your gra
cious figure?

Queen. Alas, he's mad.

Ham. Do you not come your tardy son to chide, That, laps'd in time and passion, lets go by The important acting of your dread command O, say f

Ghost. Do not forget: This visitation Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. But, look amazement on thy mother sits: O, step between her and her fighting soul; Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works; Speak to her, Hamlet. Ham. How is it with you, lady! Queen. Alas, how is't with you? That you do bend your eye on vacancy, And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep; And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look? Ham. On him! on him!-Look you, how pale

King. At supper? Where?

name,

And hit the woundless air.-O, come away!
My soul is full of discord, and dismay.

[Exeunt. SCENE IL Another Room in the same.

Enter Hamlet. Ham.Safely stowed,-[Ros. &c. within. Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!] But soft!-what noise? who calls on Hamlet? O, here they come.

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Ros. What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?

Ham. Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.

Ros. Tell us where 'tis; that we may take it thence,

And bear it to the chapel.
Ham. Do not believe it.
Ros. Believe what?

Ham. That I can keep your counsel, and not mine own. Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! -what replication should be made by the son of a king?

Ros. Take you me for a sponge, my lord? Ham. Ay, sir; that soaks up the king's countenance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the king best service in the end. He keeps them, like an ape doth nuts, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to be last swallowed: When he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.

Ros. I understand you not, my lord. Ham. I am glad of it: A knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.

Ros. My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the king. Ham. The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thingGuil. A thing, my lord? Ham. Of nothing: bring me to him. and all after.

Hide fox, [Exeunt. SCENE III. Another Room in the same. Enter King attended.

King. I have sent to seek him, and to find the body.

How dangerous is it, that this man goes loose! Yet must not we put the strong law on him: He's lov'd of the distracted multitude,

Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes; And, where 'tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd,

But never the offence. To bear all smooth and

fat ourselves for maggots; Your fat king, and your lean beggar, is but variable service; two dishes, but to one table; that's the end.

King. Alas, alas!

Ham. A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king; and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.

King. What dost thou mean by this?

Ham. Nothing, but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar. King. Where is Polonius ?

Ham. In heaven; send thither to see: if your messenger find him not there, seek him the other place yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby. King. Go seek him there. [To some Attendants Ham. He will stay till you come. [Exeunt Attendants King. Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,

Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve
For that which thou hast done,-must send thes
hence
With fiery quickness: Therefore prepare thyself;
The bark is ready, and the wind at help,
The associates tend, and every thing is bent
For England.
Ham.

King.

Ham.

For England?

Good

Ay, Hamlet. King. So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. Ham. I see a cherub, that sees them.-But, come; for England!-Farewell, dear mother. King. Thy loving father, Hamlet.

Ham. My mother: Father and mother is man and wife; man and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England. [Erii. King. Follow him at foot: tempt him with speed aboard:

Delay it not, I'll have him hence to-night;
Away; for every thing is seal'd and done
That else leans on the affair: 'Pray you, make
haste.
[Exeunt Ros. and Gal
And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught,
(As my great power thereof may give thee sense;
Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red
After the Danish sword, and thy free awe
Pays homage to us,) thou may'st not coldly set
Our sovereign process; which imports at full,
By letters conjuring to that effect,

The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
For like the hectick in my blood he rages,
And thou must cure me: Till I know 'tis done,
Howe'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin.