Where we shall find him most convenient. [Exe. Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:]
I do beseech you, give him leave to go.
SCENE II-The same. A room of state in the
same. Enter the King, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, And thy best graces: spend it at thy will.—
King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
Laertes, Voltimand, Cornelius, Lords, and Atten-But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,-

dants.

King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's
death

The memory be green; and that it us befitted
To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
To be contracted in one brow of wo;
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature,
That we with wisest sorrow think on him,
Together with remembrance of ourselves.
Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
The imperial jointress of this warlike state,
Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,-
With one auspicious, and one dropping eye;
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,
In equal scale weighing delight and dole,'
Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
With this affair along :-For all, our thanks.

Hom. A little more than kin, and less than kind.

[Aside.
King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
Ham. Not so, my lord, I am too much i'the sun.
Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
Do not, for ever, with thy veiled lids'
Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
Thou know'st, 'tis common; all, that live, must die,
Passing through nature to eternity.

Ham. Ay, madam, it is common.
Queen.

If it be,

Why seems it so particular with thee?
Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not

seems.

'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,

Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,-No, nor the fruitful river in the eve,
Holding a weak supposal of our worth;
Or thinking, by our late dear brother's death,
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands,
Lost by his father, with all bands2 of law,
To our most valiant brother.-So much for him.
Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting.
Thus much the business is: We have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,-
Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew's purpose,-to suppress
His further gait3 herein; in that the levies,
The lists, and full proportions, are all made
Out of his subject:-and we here despatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
Giving to you no further personal power
To business with the king, more than the scope
Of these dilated articles allow.

Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief,
That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem,
For they are actions that a man might play:
But I have that within, which passeth show;
These, but the trappings and the suits of wo.
King. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your na
ture, Hamlet,

Farewell and let your haste commend your duty.
Cor. Vol. In that, and all things, will we show
our duty.

King. We doubt it nothing; heartily farewell.
[Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius.
And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?
You told us of some suit; What is't, Laertes?
You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,
And lose your voice: What would'st thou beg,
Laertes,

That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
The head is not more native to the heart,
The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
What would'st thou have, Laertes?

Laer.

My dread lord,
Your leave and favour to return to France;
From whence though willingly I came to Denmark,
To show my duty in your coronation;
Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,
My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France,
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
King. Have you your father's leave? What says
Polonius?

Pol. He hath, my lord, [wrung from me my slow
leave,

By laboursome petition; and, at last,

To give these mourning duties to your father:
But, you must know, your father lost a father;
That father lost his; and the survivor bound
In filial obligation, for some term

To do obsequious sorrow: But to perséver
In obstinate condolement, is a course

Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief:
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven;

A heart unfortified, or mind impatient;
An understanding simple and unschool'd:
For what, we know, must be, and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we, in our peevish opposition,
Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd; whose common theme
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
From the first corse, till he that died to-day,
This must be so. We pray you, throw to earth
This unprevailing wo; and think of us
As of a father: for let the world take note,
You are the most immediate to our throne;
And, with no less nobility of love,
Than that which dearest father bears his son,
Do I impart toward you. For your intent
In going back to school in Wittenberg,
It is most retrograde to our desire:
And, we beseech you, bend you to remain
Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers,
Hamlet;

I pray thee, stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.
Ham. I shall in all my best obey you madam.
King. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply ;
Be as ourself in Denmark.-Madam, come;
This gentle and unfore'd accord of Hamlet'
Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,

(4) Nature; a little more than a kinsman, and
less than a natural one.
(5) Lowering eyes.

(6) Contrary.

Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-In sorrow than in anger.

(11) That part of the helmet which may be liftled up.

Ham.

I would, I had been there.
Hor. It would have much amaz'd you.
Ham.

Very like: Stay'd it long?

Very like,

Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell
a hundred.

Mar. Ber. Longer, longer.
Hor. Not when I saw it.
Ham.

If with too credent' ear you list his songs;
Or loose your heart; or your chaste treasure open
To his unmaster'd' importunity.
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;
And keep you in the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon:

His beard was grizzled? no? Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes :

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver'd.

Ham.

I will watch to-night!

Perchance, 'twill walk again.

Hor.
I warrant, it will.
Ham. If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape,
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still;
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue;
I will requite your loves: So, fare you well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you.

All.
Our duty to your honour.
Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: Farewell.
[Exeunt Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo.
My father's spirit in arms! all is not well;

I doubt some foul play: 'would, the night were

come!

Till then sit still, my soul; Foul deeds will rise,
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to

eyes.

SCENE III-A room in Polonius's house. ter Laertes and Ophelia.

The canker galls the infants of the spring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd;
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary then: best safety lies in fear;
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.

Oph. I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,
As watchman to my heart: But, good my brother,
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own read.10

I stay too long;-But here my father comes.
Enter Polonius.

A double blessing is a double grace;
Occasion smiles upon a second leave.
Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for
shame;
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
men's And you are staid for: There,-my blessing with
[Exit.
you; [Laying his hand on Laertes' head.
En-Look thou character." Give thy thoughts no tongue,
And these few precepts in thy memory
Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel;
But do not dull thy palm12 with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade.

Laer. My necessaries are embark'd; farewell:
And, sister, as the winds give benefit,
And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,
But let me hear from you.

Oph.

Do you doubt that?

Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour,Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in, Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood;

A violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,
The pérfume and suppliance of a minute;
No more.

Oph.
Laer.

No more but so?

Think it no more:
For nature, crescent,' does not grow alone
In thews, and bulk; but, as this temple waxes,
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withal. Perhaps, he loves you now;
And now no soil, nor cautel, doth besmirch
The virtue of his will: but, you must fear,
His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;
For he himself is subject to his birth:
He may not, as unvalued persons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The safety and the health of the whole state;
And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd
Unto the voice and yielding of that body,

loves you,

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy
For the apparel oft proclaims the man;
And they in France, of the best rank and station,
Are most select and generous, chief in that.
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be:
For loan oft loses both itself and friend;
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry, 15
This above all,-To thine ownself be true;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell my blessing season" this in thee!

Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
Pol. The time invites you; go, your servants
tend. 18

Laer. Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well Whereof he is the head: Then if he says he What I have said to you. Oph. 'Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it. Laer. Farewell. [Exit Laertes. Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you. Oph. So please you, something touching the lord Hamlet.

It fits your wisdom so far to believe it,
As he in his particular act and place

May give his saying deed; which is no further
Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,

(2) Sinews.

(4) Discolour.

(1) Increasing.
(3) Subtlety, deceit.
(5) Believing. (6) Listen to. (7) Licentious.
(8) Most cautious. (9) Careless;

(10) Regards not his own lessons.
(11) Write.
(13) Opinion.
(16) Economy.

(12) Palm of the hand.
(14) Noble. (15) Chiefly.
(17) Infix.
(18) Wait.

I think, it lacks of twelve. Mar. No, it is struck. Hor. Indeed? I heard it not; it then draws near

That beetles' o'er his base into the sea?
And there assume some other horrible form,
Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason,
And draw you into madness? think of it:
The very place puts toys of desperation,
Without more motive, into every brain,
That looks so many fathoms to the sea,
And hears it roar beneath.

Ham.

Go on, I'll follow thee.

It waves me still :

Mar. You shall not go, my lord.
Ham.

Hold off your hands.

Hor. Be rul'd, you shall not go.
Ham.
My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Némean lion's nerve.-
[Ghost beckons.
Still am I call'd ;-unhand me, gentlemen ;-
[Breaking from them.
By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets

me:

I say, away:-Go on, I'll follow thee.

I find thee apt;

And duller should'st thou be than the fat weed
That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,
Would'st thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear:
'Tis given out, that, sleeping in mine orchard,'
A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark
Is, by a forged process of my death,
Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father's life,
Now wears his crown.

Ham. O, my prophetic soul! my uncle!
Ghost. Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,.
With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts
(O wicked wit, and gifts, that have the power
So to seduce!) won to his shameful lust
The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen:
O, Hamlet, what a falling off was there!
From me, whose love was of that dignity,
That it went hand in hand even with the vow
I made to her in marriage; and to decline
Upon a wretch, whose natural gifts were poor
To those of mine!

[Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet.
Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination.
Mar, Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him.
Hor. Have after:-To what issue will this come?
Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Den-But virtue, as it never will be mov'd,

My hour is almost come,
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames
Must render up myself.

Alas, poor ghost!

Ham.
Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing
To what I shall unfold.
Ham.

Speak, I am bound to hear.
Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt
hear.
Ham. What?

Ghost. I am thy father's spirit:
Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night;
And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature,
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word
Would harrrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood;
Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their
spheres ;

Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand an-end,
Like quills upon the fretful Porcupine:
But this eternal blazon' must not be

To ears of flesh and blood:-List, list, O list!-
If thou didst ever thy dear father love,-
Ham. O heaven!

Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural
murder.

Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven;
So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,
Will sate itself in a celestial bed,
And prey on garbage.

Brief let me be :-Sleeping within mine orchard,
But, soft! methinks, I scent the morning air;
My custom always of the afternoon,
Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of cursed hebenon" in a vial,
And in the porches of mine ears did pour
The leperous distilment: whose effect
Holds such an enmity with blood of man,
That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through
The natural gates and alleys of the body;
And, with a sudden vigour, it doth posset
And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine:
And a most instant tetter bark'd about,
Most lazer-like, with vile and loathsome crust,
All my smooth body.

Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand,
Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatch'd: 1o
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
Unhousel'd," disappointed, 12 unanel'd ;13
No reckoning made, but sent to my account
With all my imperfections on my head:
O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be
A couch for luxury and damned incest.
But, howsoever thou pursu'st this act,
Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive
Against thy mother aught; leave her to heaven,
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,
To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!
The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,
And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:
Adieu, adieu, adieu! remember me.

[Exit.

Ham. O all you host of heaven! O earth! what

else?