HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

Claudius, king of Denmark.

Francisco, a soldier.

Hamlet, son to ne former king, and nephew to the Reynaldo, servant to Polonius.

Laertes, son to Polonius.

present king.

Polonius, lord chamberlain.

Horatio, friend to Hamlet.

A Captain. An Ambassador.
Ghost of Hamlet's father.

Fortinbras, prince of Norway.

Gertrude, queen of Denmark, and mother of
Hamlet.

Ophelia, daughter of Polonius.

Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Players, Grave diggers, Sailors, Messengers, and other Al

tendants.

Scene, Elsinore.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Elsinore. A platform before the castle. Francisco on his post. Enter to Bernardo.

WHO'S there?

Bernardo.

him

Hor. What, has this thing appear'd again tonight?

Ber. I have seen nothing.

Mar. Horatio says, 'tis but our fantasy;
And will not let belief take hold of him,
Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us;
Therefore I have entreated him, along
With us to watch the minutes of this night;

Fran. Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold That, if again this apparition come,

Yourself.

And I am sick at heart.

Ber. Have you had quiet guard?
Fran.

Ber. Well, good night.

When yon same star, that's westward from the

pole,

Not a mouse stirring. Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus, and myself,
The bell then beating one,-

If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
The rivals' of my watch, bid them make haste.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Fran. I think, I hear them.-Stand, ho! Who
is there?

Hor. Friends to this ground.

And liegemen to the Dane..

Mar.
Fran. Give you good night.
Mar.

O, farewell, honest soldier:

Who hath reliev'd you?
Fran. Bernardo hath my place.
Give you good night.

Mar.

[Exit Francisco.. Holla! Bernardo!

Ber. In the same figure like the king that's dead.
Mar. Thou art a scholar, speak to it, Horatio.
Ber. Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.
Hor. Most like:-it harrows me with fear, and
wonder.

Ber. It would be spoke to.
Mar.
Speak to it, Horatio.
Hor. What art thou, that usurp'st this time of
night,

Together with that fair and warlike form

In which the majesty of buried Denmark
Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee,

Where we shall Fny him most convenient. [Exe. Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:]
I do beseech you, give him leave to go.
King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine
And thy best graces: spend it at thy will.-

SCENE II-The sume. A room of state in the
same. Enter the kg, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius,
Laertes, Voltina, Soretius, Lords, and Alten-But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,-

dants.

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

nom

The memory be green and that it us be ted
To bear our hears in grief, and our whole
To be contracted in one brew of wo;
Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
That we with wisest sorrow think on in,
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 marriag
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.

Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras
Holding a weak supposa! of our worth;
Or thinking, by our late dea: 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 wri
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.

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 th; nighted colour of
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 fore'd breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief,
That can denote me truly: These, indeed, s,
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 yes
ture, Hamlet,

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 unfortised, cr mind impatient;
An understanding simpic and unschool'd:
For what, we know, bust Le, and is as commor
As any the most vulgar t.ing to sense,
Why should we, in our peevich opposition,

Farewell: and let your haste commend your div.Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fau. to inve
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,

A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd; whose common. hee
Is death of fathers, and who still hath criea,
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 throuc;
And, with no less nobility of love,
Than that which dearest father bears his soc
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

No jocund health, that Denmark drinks to-day,
But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell;
And the king's rouse1 the heaven shall bruit again,
Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.

[Exeunt King, Queen, Lords, &c. Polonius,
and Laertes.

Ham. O, that this too too solid flesh would
melt,

Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!
Or, that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! O fie' 'tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in

nature,

Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead!-nay, not so much, not

two:

So excellent a king; that was, to this,

Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother,
That he might not beteem' the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on: And yet, within a month,-
Let me not think on't;-Frailty, thy name

woman!

A little month; or ere those shoes were old,
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears;-why she, even she,-
O heaven! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer,-married with my
uncle,

My father's brother; but no more like my father,
Than I to Hercules: Within a month;
Fre yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married:-O most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to, good;

But break, my heart: for I must hold my tonge!

Enter Horatio, Bernardo, and Marcellus.
Hor. Hail to your lordship.
Ham.

Ham. Thrift, thrift, Hcratio: the funeral-bak'd

meats"

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
'Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!
My father,-Methinks, I see my father.
Hor.
My lord?

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Where,

Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king.
Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw! who?

Hor. My lord, the king your father.
Ham.

The king my father!
Hor. Season your admiration for a while
With an attent1 ear; till I may deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham.
For God's love, let me hear.
Hor. Two nights together had these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waste and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
Armed at point, exactly, cap-à-pé,

is Appears before them, and, with solemn march,
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd,
By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,
Within his truncheon's length; while they, distill'd
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me,
In dreadful secrecy, impart they did;
And I with them, the third night, kept the watch:
Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes: I knew your father;
These hands are not more like.

I am glad to see you well: foratio, or I do forget myself. Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant

ever.

Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name
with you.

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
Marcellus?

Mar. My good lord,——

Ham. I am very glad to see you; good even,
sir.-

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.

Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so :
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against yourself: I know, you are no truant.
But what is your affair in Elsinore ?
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

Ham.
But where was this?
Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we
watch'd.

Ham. Did you not speak to it?
Hor.

My lord, I did,
But answer made it none: yet once, methought,
It lifted up its head, and did address
Itself to motion, like as it would speak:
But, even then, the morning cock crew loud;
And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,
And vanish'd from our sight.

Ham.

'Tis very strange.
Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty,
To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
Hold you the watch to-night?

All.

We do, my lord.

All. My lord, from head to foot.
Ham.
His face?

Hor. O, ves, my lord; he wore his beaver11 up.
Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?
Hor.
A countenance more

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

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.
Hant. 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!

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
O fear me not.

Laer.

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; Till then sit still, my soul; Foul deeds will rise, The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to 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. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in, Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice: Take each man's censure, 13 but reserve thy judg

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,
Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood;

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

Oph.
Laer.

No more but so?

ment.

14

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.16
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!

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,
Whereof he is the head: Then if he says he What I have said to you.

loves you,

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,

(1) Increasing. (2) Sinews.
(3) Subtlety, deceit.

(4) Discolour.

(5) Believing. (6) Listen to. (7) Licentious. (8) Most cautious. (9) Careless;