O, say!

That I must be their scourge and minister. I will bestow him, and will answer well

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 fighthing 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 th' incorporal air do hold discourse?
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
And, as the sleeping soldiers in th' 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 he
glares!

His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,
Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;
Lest, with this piteous action, you convert
My stern effects: then what I have to do
Will want true colour; tears, perchance, for blood.
Queen. To whom do you speak this?
Ham. Do you see nothing there?

Queen. Nothing at all; yet all, that is, I see.
Ham. Nor did you nothing hear?
Queen. No, nothing, but ourselves.

Ham. Why,look you there! look, how it steals away! My father, in his habit as he liv'd:

Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!
[Exit Ghost.
Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain:
This bodiless creation ecstasy
Is very cunning in.

Ham. Ecstasy!

My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,
And makes as healthful music. It is not madness,
That I have utter'd: bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word; which madness
Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul,
That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place;
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;
And do not spread the compost on the weeds,
To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue :
For in the fatness of these pursy times,
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg;
Yea, curb and woo, for leave to do him good.
Queen. O Hamlet! thou hast cleft my heart in twain.
Ham. O, throw away the worser part of it,
And live the purer with the other half.
Good night! but go not to my uncle's bed;
Assume a virtue, if you have it not.

That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat
Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this;
That to the use of actions fair and good
He likewise gives a frock, or livery,
That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night;
And that shall lend a kind of easiness

To the next abstinence: the next more easy:
For use almost can change the stamp of nature,
And either curb the devil, or throw him out
With wondrous potency. Once more, good night!
And when you are desirous to be bless'd,
I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,
[Pointing to Polonius.
I do repent. But heaven hath pleas'd it so,-
To punish me with this, and this with me,

The death I gave him. So, again, good night! — I must be cruel, only to be kind :

Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind. But one word more, good lady!

Queen. What shall I do?

Ham. Not this, by no means, that I hid you do:
Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed:
Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;
And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,

Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,
Make you to ravel all this matter out,
That I essentially am not in madness,
But mad in craft. 'Twere good, you let him know:
For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,
Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,
Such dear concernings hide? who would do so?
No, in despite of sense, and secrecy,
Unpeg the basket on the house's top,
Let the birds fly; and, like the famous ape,
To try conclusions, in the basket creep,
And break your own neck down.

Queen. Be thou assur'd, if words be made of breath,
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe
What thou hast said to me.

Ham. I must to England; you know that?
Queen. Alack,

I had forgot; 'tis so concluded on.

Ham. There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows,

Whom I will trust, as I will adders fang'd,-
They bear the mandate: they must sweep my way,
And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;
For 'tis the sport, to have the engineer
Hoist with his own petar: and it shall go hard,
But I will delve one yard below their mines,
And blow them at the moon: O 'tis most sweet,
When in one line two crafts directly meet. -
This man shall set me packing.

I'll lug the guts into their neighbour room: -
Mother, good night!-Indeed, this counsellor
Is now most still, most secret, and most grave,
Who was in life a foolish prating knave.
Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you:
Good night, mother!

[Exeunt serverally; Hamlet dragging in
Polonius.

King. There's matter in these sighs; these profound heaves

You must translate; 'tis fit we understand them:
Where is your son?
Queen. Bestow this place on us a little while. -
[To Rosenscrantz and Guildenstern,
who go out.

Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night!
King. What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?
Queen. Mad as the sea, and wind, when both contend
Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit,
Behind the arras hearing something stir,
Whips out his rapier, cries, A rat! a rat!
And, in this brainish apprehension, kills
The unseen good old man.
King. O heavy deed!

It had been so with us, had we been there:
His liberty is full of threats to all;
To you yourself, to us, to every one.

[He answers.]

So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed. King. How long hath she been thus? Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient; but I cannot choose but weep, to think, they should lay him i'the cold ground. My brother shall know of it, and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies! good night, sweet ladies! good night, good night! [Exit. King. Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you! [Exit Horatio. O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's death: and now behold, O Gertrude, Gertrude!

When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions! First, her father slain;
Next, your son gone; and he most violent author
Of his own just remove: the people muddied,l
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whis-

pers,

For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,

In hugger-mugger to inter him: poor Ophelia
Divided from herself, and her fair judgment;
Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts.
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France:
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death;
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering piece, in many places
Gives me superfluous death!

Queen. Alack! what noise is this?
Enter a Gentleman.

King. Attend!

A noise within.

me bastard;

Cries, cuckold, to my father; brands the harlot Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow Of my true mother.

King. What is the cause, Laertes, That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?— Let him go, Gertrude! do not fear our person; There's such divinity doth hedge a king, That treason can but peep to what it would, Acts little of his will.-Tell me, Laertes, Why thou art thus incens'd? - Let him go, Gertrude!

Speak, man.

Laer. Where is my father?
King. Dead.

Queen. But not by him.
King. Let him demand his fill.
Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:
To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil!
Conscience, and grace, to the profoundest pit!
I dare damnation: to this point I stand,-
That both the worlds I give to negligence,
Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd
Most throughly for my father.
King. Who shall stay you?

Laer. My will, not all the world's: And, for my means, I'll husband them so well, They shall go far with little.

Gent. Save yourself, my lord!

The ocean, overpeering of his list,

Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste,
Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,

O'erbears your officers! The rabble call him, lord;
And, as the world were now but to begin,
Antiquity forgot, custom not known,
The ratifiers and props of every word,
They cry, Choose we; Laertes shall be king!
Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!
Queen. How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!
O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!
King. The doors are broke!

[Noise within. Enter LAERTES, armed; Danes following. Laer. Where is this king-?- Sirs, stand you all without!

Dan. No, let's come in!

Laer. I pray you, give me leave!

Dan. We will, we will.

Danes. [Within.]Let her come in!
Laer. How now! what noise is that?
Enter OPHELIA, fantastically dressed with straw
and flowers.

O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,
Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!-
By heaven, thy madness shall be paid with weight,
Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May!
Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!--
O heavens! is't possible, a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal, as an old man's life?
Nature is fine in love: and, where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of itself
After the thing it loves.

Oph. They bore him barefac'd on the bier Hey no nonney, nonney hey nonny: And in his grave rain'd many a tear ; Fare you well, my dove!

Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade re

venge,

It could not move thus.

him a-down-a. O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole his master's daughter. Laer. This nothing's more than matter. Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember! and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

Laer. A document in madness; thoughts and remembrance fitted.

Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines : — there's rue for you; and here's some for me:-we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays: - you may wear your rue with a difference.-There's a daisy -I would give you some violets; but they withered all, when my father died; they say, he made a good end, For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,- [Sings. Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favour, and to prettiness.

And of all christian souls! I pray God. God be wi' you! [Exit Ophelia.

Laer. Do you see this, O God! King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief, Or you deny me right. Go but apart, Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will, And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me: If by direct or by collateral hand

They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,
Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,
To you in satisfaction; but, if not,

Be you content to lend your patience to us,
And we shall jointly labour with your soul,
To give it due content.

Laer. Let this be so;

His means of death, his obscure funeral,

No trophy, sword, nor hatchment, o'er his bones, No noble rite, nor formal ostentation, —

Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth, That I must call't in question.

King. So you shall;

And, where the offence is, let the great axe fall. I pray you, go with me!

[Exeunt.

ment gave us chase: finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valour; and in the grapple I boarded them: on the instant, they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy: but they knew what they did; I am to do a good turn for them. Let the king have the letters I have sent: and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou would'st fly death. I have words to speak in thine ear, will make thee dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter. These good fellos will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England; of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell! He that thou knowest thine, Hamlet. Come, I will give you way for these your letters; And do't the speedier, that you may direct me To him, from whom you brought them. [Exeunt. SCENE VII. Another room in the same. Enter King and LAERTES.

King. Now must your conscience my acquittance seal,

And you must put me in your heart for friend;
Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
That he, which hath your noble father slain,
Pursu'd my life.

Laer. It well appears: - but tell me,
Why you proceeded not against these feats,
So crimeful and so capital in nature,

As by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else,
You mainly were stirr'd up.

King. O, for two special reasons; Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd, But yet to me they are strong. The queen, his mother, Lives almost by his looks; and for myself, (My virtue, or my plague, be it either which,) She is so conjunctive to my life and soul, That, as the star moves not but in his sphere, I could not but by her. The other motive, Why to a public count I might not go, Is, the great love the general gender bear him: Who, dipping all his faults in their affection, Work like the spring that turneth wood to stone, Convert his gyves to graces; so that my arrows, Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind, Would have reverted to my bow again, And not where I had aim'd them.

Laer. And so have I a noble father lost; A sister driven into desperate terms; Whose worth, if praises may go back again, Stood challenger on mount of all the age For her perfections. But my revenge will come. King. Break not your sleeps for that: you must not think,

That we are made of stuff so flat and dull,

I do not know from what part of the world
I should be greeted, if not from lord Hamlet.
Enter Sailors.

1 Sail. God bless you, sir!
Hor. Let him bless thee too.

1 Sail. He shall, sir, an't please him! There's a letter for you, sir! it comes from the ambassador that was bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.