• Hamlet

    This drama is one of the great tragedies by William Shakespeare. The themes of the plot cover indecision, revenge and retribution, deception, ambition, loyalty and fate.

  • Act 1

    A ghost resembling Hamlet the King (Hamlet’s dead father) appears on the battlements of Elsinore. The guards encourage the ghost to speak, but it does not.

    Claudius speaks of Fortinbras who has written to him demanding the land that King Hamlet won from Fortinbras’ father. In a soliloquy, Hamlet explains his disgust for his mother’s marriage. The guards tell Hamlet about the apparition.

    Laertes, who is leaving for France, warns his sister Ophelia that Hamlet’s love for her may be fleeting and inconstant. Polonius, their father, echoes his sentiments.

    The ghost appears to Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus, and explains to Hamlet that he is the spirit of his father who cannot rest until revenge is taken upon his murderer, who he reveals to be Claudius.

  • Act 2

    Ophelia claims that Hamlet came to her bedchamber, took hold of her, stared into her eyes and then left. She confirms to Polonius that she has sent back Hamlet’s love letters and refused to meet with him. Polonius believes that this may has angered Hamlet.

    Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are instructed by King Claudius and Queen Gertrude to draw Hamlet out of his melancholy. Polonius suggests that Hamlet is upset because he has been rejected by Ophelia.

  • Act 3

    Polonius and Claudius secretly watch a meeting between Hamlet and Ophelia. Hamlet denies any affection for her which confuses Polonius and Claudius. They decide that either Gertrude can get to the root of Hamlet’s “madness” or he will be sent to England.

    Hamlet directs the actors in a play to depict his father’s murder – he hopes to study Claudius’ reaction. Claudius and Gertrude leave during the performance. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern inform Hamlet that Gertrude wants to speak to him.

    When alone, Claudius speaks of his conscience and guilt. Hamlet enters from behind and draws his sword to kill Claudius but decides that it would be wrong to kill a man while praying.

    Hamlet is about reveal Claudius’ villainy to Gertrude when he hears someone behind the curtain. Thinking it is Claudius, he thrusts his sword through the arras – he has killed Polonius. Hamlet reveals all and speaks to the ghost. Gertrude, who cannot see the apparition, is now convinced of Hamlet’s madness.

  • Act 4

    Claudius decides to send Hamlet to England. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern ask Hamlet what he has done with Polonius’ body. Hamlet scorns them for their loyalty to Claudius. Claudius demands that Hamlet reveals the location of the body and informs him that he will be sent to England.

    Fortinbras sends a message to Claudius that he will be marching on his land. He encounters Hamlet, who considers humanity’s capacity for violence, and decides to be more brutal in his revenge.

    Claudius thinks that Ophelia is suffering from grief following the death of her father, as she is behaving strangely. Laertes discovers that his father is dead. A sailor gives Horatio a letter from Hamlet explaining that he has been captured by pirates en route to England.

    Laertes wants to avenge the death of his father and strikes a deal with Claudius. Laertes will stab Hamlet with a poisoned rapier and Claudius is to have a standby cup of poison prepared. Gertrude reports that Ophelia has drowned herself.

  • Act 5

    At Ophelia’s grave, Hamlet contemplates the graveyard’s skulls and their dignity in life compared to their treatment in death. He addresses the skull of Yorick, the King’s jester.

    The funeral procession enters to bury Ophelia. Hamlet realizes who they are burying and confronts Laertes. As Hamlet professes his love for Ophelia, Claudius announces that Hamlet is mad.

    Hamlet tells Horatio that Claudius had ordered his death in England. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern unsuspectingly carried the orders in a letter; which he replaced with an order for their deaths.

    Laertes and Hamlet fight. Hamlet fights well, so Claudius offers him the poison cup – which he refuses. Unknowingly, Gertrude drinks from the cup. Laertes and Hamlet accidentally swap rapiers and Laertes is injured by his poisoned rapier. As he dies, Laertes tells Hamlet of Claudius’ plan and forgives him for killing Polonius.

    A fatally wounded Hamlet kills Claudius before drinking the poison cup. Fortinbras, whose army has invaded Denmark, enters as Hamlet is dying. Hamlet bequeaths the throne to Fortinbras and is promised a soldier’s send off by the new King.

  • Act 1, Scene 1

    On a dark winter night outside Elsinore Castle in Denmark, an officer named Bernardo relieves the watchman Francisco. Francisco thanks Bernardo and prepares to go home.

    Bernardo is joined by Marcellus, another watchman, and Horatio, a friend of Prince Hamlet. They discuss the apparition they have seen for the past two nights: the ghost of the recently deceased King Hamlet.

    Horatio is skeptical, but the ghost suddenly appears before the men and then vanishes. Horatio acknowledges that the specter resembles the dead King, and declares that the ghost must bring warning of misfortune for Denmark. He mentions that Fortinbras, the young Prince of Norway, now seeks to reconquer some forfeited lands.

    The ghost materializes again, and Horatio tries to speak to it. The ghost remains silent, and disappears as the cock crows at dawn. Horatio suggests that they inform Prince Hamlet. He believes that if it is really the ghost of the king, it will not refuse to speak to his beloved son.

  • Act 1, Scene 2

    King Claudius gives a speech to his courtiers, explaining his recent marriage to Gertrude. He says that Fortinbras is demanding the surrender of lands, and dispatches messengers to the King of Norway, Fortinbras’s elderly uncle.

    Claudius turns to Laertes, the son of the Lord Chamberlain, Polonius. Polonius and Claudius give Laertes permission to return to France.

    Turning to Hamlet, Claudius asks why he is so miserable. Claudius declares that to mourn for too long is unmanly and inappropriate. Claudius urges Hamlet to think of him as a father, reminding him that he is next in line for the throne.

    Claudius says that he does not wish Hamlet to return to school at Wittenberg. Gertrude echoes her husband, and Hamlet agrees to obey her. Claudius claims to be so pleased that he will celebrate with festivities and cannon fire. He escorts Gertrude out, and the court follows.

    Alone, Hamlet wishes he could die. He remembers how deeply in love his parents seemed, and he curses the thought that now, not yet two month after his father’s death, his mother has married his father’s far inferior brother.

    Hamlet quiets as Horatio, Marcellus and Bernardo stride into the room. Horatio tells Hamlet that they have seen what appears to be his father’s ghost. Hamlet agrees to keep watch with them that night, hoping that he will be able to speak to the apparition.

  • Act 1, Scene 3

    Laertes prepares to leave for France. Bidding Ophelia farewell, he cautions her against falling in love with Hamlet. Ophelia agrees to heed Laertes’ advice but urges him not to give her advice that he does not practice himself. Laertes reassures her that he will take care of himself.

    Polonius enters to bid his son farewell. He tells Laertes that he must hurry to his ship but then delays him by giving him a great deal of advice about how to behave with integrity and practicality. Laertes leaves, bidding farewell to Ophelia once more.

    Alone with his daughter, Polonius asks Ophelia what Laertes told her before he left, and questions her about her relationship with Hamlet. He sternly forbids Ophelia to associate with Hamlet. Ophelia pledges to obey.

  • Act 1, Scene 4

    Hamlet keeps watch outside the castle with Horatio and Marcellus. Trumpets and gunfire sound from the castle - the new king is spending the night carousing. Disgusted, Hamlet declares that the king makes Denmark a laughing stock.

    The ghost appears, and Hamlet calls out to it. The ghost beckons Hamlet to follow it. His companions urge him not to follow, begging him to consider that the ghost might lead him toward harm.

    Hamlet is unsure whether his father’s apparition is truly the king’s spirit or an evil demon, but he declares that he cares nothing for his life and that the ghost can do nothing to harm his soul. He follows after the apparition and disappears.

    Horatio proclaims that heaven will oversee the outcome of Hamlet’s encounter with the ghost, but Marcellus says that they should follow and try to protect him. After a moment, Horatio and Marcellus follow after Hamlet and the ghost.

  • Act 1, Scene 5

    The ghost speaks to Hamlet, claiming to be his father’s spirit. Hamlet is appalled at the revelation that his father has been murdered, and the ghost tells him that as he slept in his garden, Claudius poured poison into his ear.

    The ghost exhorts Hamlet to seek revenge, telling him that Claudius has corrupted both Denmark and Gertrude. The ghost urges Hamlet not to act against his mother in any way.

    As dawn breaks, the ghost disappears. Hamlet swears to remember and obey the ghost. Horatio and Marcellus arrive and ask Hamlet what has happened. He refuses to tell them, and insists that they swear not to reveal what they have seen.

    He tells them further that he may pretend to be a madman, and he makes them swear not to give any hint that they know anything about his motives. Three times the ghost’s voice echoes from beneath the ground, proclaiming, “Swear.” Horatio and Marcellus swear. As they leave, Hamlet bemoans the responsibility he carries.

  • Act 2, Scene 1

    Polonius dispatches his servant Reynaldo to France with money and written notes for Laertes, ordering him to inquire about and spy on Laertes’ personal life.

    As Reynaldo leaves, Ophelia enters, visibly upset. She tells Polonius that Hamlet, unkempt and wild-eyed, has accosted her. Hamlet grabbed her, held her, and sighed heavily, but did not speak to her.

    Polonius says that Hamlet must be mad with his love for Ophelia, for she has distanced herself from him ever since Polonius ordered her to do so. Polonius speculates that this lovesickness might be the cause of Hamlet’s moodiness, and he hurries out to tell Claudius.

  • Act 2, Scene 2

    Claudius and Gertrude welcome Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, two of Hamlet’s friends. The king and queen have summoned them to Elsinore in the hope that they might be able to cheer Hamlet out of his melancholy, or discover the cause of it.

    Polonius enters, announcing the return of the ambassadors to Norway. The aged king of Norway rebuked Fortinbras, who swore he would never attack the Danes, and urged him to attack the Poles instead. He has requested safe passage for Fortinbras’s armies through Denmark.

    Polonius declares that Hamlet is in love with Ophelia, and proposes to eavesdrop on them to find out. Claudius agrees. Gertrude sees Hamlet approaching. Gertrude and Claudius exit, leaving Polonius with Hamlet.

    Polonius attempts to converse with Hamlet, who appears insane. He hurries away, determined to arrange the meeting between Hamlet and Ophelia. As Polonius leaves, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern enter. They claim they have come to visit Hamlet, but he knows that the king and queen sent for them.

    Polonius enters to announce the arrival of a theatrical troupe. Hamlet welcomes them and entreats one of them to give him a speech. He announces that the next night they will hear The Murder of Gonzago performed, with an additional speech that he will write himself.

    Hamlet leaves, and stands alone. He curses himself for his inability to take action. He devises a trap for Claudius, forcing the king to watch a play whose plot closely resembles the murder of Hamlet’s father. Hamlet reasons that he will obtain definitive proof of Claudius’s guilt by observing his reactions.

  • Act 3, Scene 1

    Claudius and Gertrude discuss Hamlet’s behavior with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and Gertrude exit, and Polonius directs Ophelia to walk around the lobby. Polonius and the king hide.

    Hamlet enters, speaking thoughtfully and agonizingly to himself about whether to commit suicide to end the pain of experience. Hamlet sees Ophelia approaching. She tells him that she wishes to return tokens of love he has given her.

    Angrily, Hamlet denies having given her anything; he claims both to have loved Ophelia once and never to have loved her at all. As he storms out, Ophelia mourns the “noble mind” that has now lapsed into apparent madness.

    The king and Polonius emerge from behind the tapestry. Claudius says that Hamlet’s behavior has clearly not been caused by love for Ophelia and that he does not seem insane. He will send Hamlet to England, hoping that a change of scenery might help him get over his troubles.

    Polonius agrees, but he still believes that Hamlet’s agitation comes from loving Ophelia. He asks Claudius to send Hamlet to Gertrude’s chamber after the play, where he can hide again and watch unseen; he hopes to learn whether Hamlet is really mad with love.

  • Act 3, Scene 2

    That evening, Hamlet lectures the players on how to act parts he has written for them. Horatio enters, and Hamlet praises him heartily. Having told Horatio what he learned from the ghost, he now asks him to watch Claudius during the play.

    The audience of lords and ladies begins streaming into the room. Hamlet warns Horatio that he will begin to act strangely so as to appear mad, and proceeds to do so.

    The players enter and act out a brief “dumbshow.” In the dumbshow, a king and queen display their love. While the king is sleeping, a man murders him by pouring poison into his ear. The murderer seduces the queen, who gradually accepts his advances.

    The players enact the play in full. Hamlet keeps up a running commentary, and teases Ophelia with oblique sexual references. When the murderer pours the poison into the king’s ear, Claudius rises and cries out. Chaos ensues as the king flees, followed by the audience.

    Hamlet and Horatio agree that the king’s behavior was telling. Hamlet continues to act frantic and scatterbrained, speaking glibly and inventing little poems. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern arrive to tell Hamlet that he is wanted in his mother’s chambers.

    Polonius enters to escort Hamlet to the queen. Hamlet asks for a moment alone. He steels himself to speak to his mother, resolving to be brutally honest with her but not to lose control of himself.

  • Act 3, Scene 3

    King Claudius speaks to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Claudius asks the pair to escort Hamlet on a voyage to England and to depart immediately. Polonius promises to tell Claudius all that he learns from spying on Hamlet and Gertrude. When the king is alone, he expresses his guilt and begins to pray.

    Hamlet slips quietly into the room and steels himself to kill the unseeing Claudius. He realizes that if he kills Claudius while he is praying, he will send Claudius’s soul to heaven. This is hardly an adequate revenge. Hamlet decides to wait, resolving to kill Claudius when the king is sinning. Hamlet leaves.

  • Act 3, Scene 4

    In Gertrude’s chamber, the queen and Polonius wait for Hamlet. Polonius urges the queen to be harsh with Hamlet. Gertrude agrees, and Polonius hides behind an arras (tapestry).

    Hamlet storms into the room. Gertrude says that he has offended his father, meaning his stepfather, Claudius. He interrupts her to say that she has offended his true father, King Hamlet. Fearing for her life, Gertrude cries out.

    Polonius calls out for help. Hamlet, suspecting that it might be Claudius behind the arras, draws his sword and stabs it, killing Polonius.

    Hamlet lifts the arras and discovers Polonius’s body. He bids the old man farewell and turns to his mother. He shows her pictures of the dead king and of the current king, and asks her what has driven her to marry Claudius.

    She pleads with him to stop. Hamlet continues to denounce her, until the ghost of his father appears to remind Hamlet of his purpose. Hamlet speaks to the apparition, but Gertrude can’t see it and believes him to be mad.

    Hamlet tries desperately to convince Gertrude that he is not mad, and he urges her to forsake Claudius. He asks her not to reveal that his madness has been an act. Gertrude, still shaken, agrees to keep his secret.

    Hamlet reminds his mother that he must sail to England with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, whom he says he will regard with suspicion. Dragging Polonius’s body behind him, Hamlet leaves his mother’s room.

  • Act 4, Scene 1

    Frantic after her confrontation with Hamlet, Gertrude hurries to Claudius, who is conferring with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. She asks to speak to the king alone.

    When Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit, she tells Claudius about her encounter with Hamlet. She says that he is mad; she also tells Claudius that Hamlet has killed Polonius.

    Claudius wonders aloud how he will be able to handle this public crisis. He tells Gertrude that they must ship Hamlet to England and explain Hamlet’s misdeed to the court and to the people. He calls Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, tells them about the murder, and sends them to find Hamlet.

  • Act 4, Scene 2

    Elsewhere in Elsinore, Hamlet has just finished disposing of Polonius’s body. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern appear and ask what he has done with the body. Hamlet refuses to give them a straight answer.

    Feigning offense at being questioned, he accuses them of being spies in the service of Claudius. At last he agrees to allow Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to escort him to Claudius.

  • Act 4, Scene 3

    The king speaks to a group of attendants, telling them of Polonius’s death and his intention to send Hamlet to England. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern appear with Hamlet, who is under guard.

    Pressed by Claudius to reveal the location of Polonius’s body, Hamlet is by turns inane, coy, and clever. Finally, Hamlet reveals that Polonius’s body is under the stairs near the castle lobby, and the king dispatches his attendants to look there.

    The king tells Hamlet that he must leave at once for England, and Hamlet enthusiastically agrees. Alone with his thoughts, Claudius states his hope that England will obey the sealed orders he has sent with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. The orders call for Prince Hamlet to be put to death.

  • Act 4, Scene 4

    On a nearby plain, young Prince Fortinbras marches with army, traveling through Denmark on the way to attack Poland. Fortinbras orders his captain to ask the King of Denmark for permission to travel.

    On his way, the captain encounters Hamlet, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern on their way to the ship bound for England. The captain informs them that the Norwegian army rides to fight the Poles.

    Seeing an army prepared for war over a tiny patch of land, Hamlet is disgusted with himself for having failed to gain his revenge on Claudius. Hamlet declares that from this moment on, his thoughts will be bloody.

  • Act 4, Scene 5

    Gertrude and Horatio discuss Ophelia. Gertrude does not wish to see her, but Horatio says that Ophelia should be pitied. Ophelia enters. Adorned with flowers and singing strange songs, she seems to have gone mad.

    Claudius enters and says that Ophelia’s grief stems from her father’s death, and that the people have been suspicious and disturbed by the death as well. He also mentions that Laertes has secretly sailed back from France.

    A gentleman enters to warn the king that Laertes has come with a mob of commoners. A furious Laertes storms into the hall, wishing to avenge his father’s death. Claudius attempts to soothe him by frankly acknowledging that Polonius is dead. Gertrude nervously adds that Claudius is innocent in it.

    When Ophelia reenters, Laertes plunges again into rage. Claudius claims that he is not responsible for Polonius’s death. Claudius convinces Laertes to hear his version of events, which he says will answer all his questions.

  • Act 4, Scene 6

    In another part of the castle, Horatio is introduced to a pair of sailors bearing a letter for him from Hamlet. In the letter, Hamlet says that his ship was captured by pirates, who have returned him to Denmark.

    He asks Horatio to escort the sailors to the king and queen, for they have messages for them as well. He also says that he has much to tell of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Horatio takes the sailors to the king and then follows them to find Hamlet, who is in the countryside near the castle.

  • Act 4, Scene 7

    Claudius and Laertes discuss Polonius’s death. Claudius explains that he acted as he did because both the common people and the queen love Hamlet very much. A messenger enters with a letter from Hamlet, which says that Hamlet will return tomorrow.

    Claudius agrees that Laertes deserves to be revenged upon Hamlet. The devious king begins to think of a way for Laertes to have his revenge without any appearance of foul play.

    The king and Laertes plot to tempt Hamlet into a duel. Laertes will use a sharpened sword rather than a dull fencing blade. Laertes also proposes to poison his sword. The king has a backup plan, proposing that if Hamlet succeeds in the duel, Claudius will offer him a poisoned cup of wine.

    Gertrude enters with tragic news. Ophelia, mad with grief, has drowned in the river. Laertes flees the room. Claudius summons Gertrude to follow. He worries that the news of Ophelia’s death will reawaken Laertes’s rage.

  • Act 5, Scene 1

    In the churchyard, two gravediggers dig a grave for Ophelia. They argue whether Ophelia should be buried in the churchyard, since her death looks like a suicide.

    Hamlet and Horatio watch the gravediggers work. Hamlet looks with wonder at skulls they excavate and speculates about what occupations the owners of these skulls served in life. Hamlet asks the gravedigger whose grave he digs, and the gravedigger spars with him verbally.

    Hamlet picks up a skull, and the gravedigger, who does not recognize Hamlet, tells him that the skull belonged to Yorick, King Hamlet’s jester. Hamlet tells Horatio that as a child he knew Yorick and is appalled at the sight of the skull.

    The funeral procession for Ophelia enters the churchyard. Hamlet, wondering who has died, notices that the funeral rites appear to be for a suicide. He and Horatio hide as the procession approaches the grave.

    As Ophelia is buried, Hamlet realizes who has died. Laertes leaps into Ophelia’s grave in grief. Hamlet bursts in, declaring his love for Ophelia. He leaps into the grave and fights Laertes. Gertrude and Claudius declare that Hamlet is mad. Hamlet storms off, and Horatio follows. The king urges Laertes to be patient, and to remember their plan.

  • Act 5, Scene 2

    Hamlet tells Horatio how he plotted to overcome Claudius’s scheme to have him murdered. He replaced the sealed letter carried by Rosencrantz and Guildenstern with one calling for the execution of the letter-bearers.

    Their conversation is interrupted by Osric, a foolish courtier. He tells them that Claudius wants Hamlet to fence with Laertes. Against Horatio’s advice, Hamlet agrees to fight.

    The court marches into the hall, and Hamlet asks Laertes for forgiveness. Laertes says that he will not forgive Hamlet until an expert in the fine points of honor has advised him. But, he says, he will accept Hamlet’s offer of love.

    They select their foils and the king says that if Hamlet wins the first or second hit, he will drink to Hamlet’s health, then throw into the cup a valuable gem and give the wine to Hamlet. The duel begins.

    Hamlet strikes Laertes but declines to drink, saying that he will play another hit first. He hits Laertes again, and Gertrude rises to drink from the poisoned cup. The king tells her not to drink, but she does so anyway.

    They fight again, and Laertes scores a hit against Hamlet, drawing blood. Scuffling, they manage to exchange swords, and Hamlet wounds Laertes with his own blade.

    The queen falls. Laertes is poisoned by his own sword. The queen moans that the cup must have been poisoned, calls out to Hamlet, and dies. Laertes tells Hamlet that he, too, has been slain, and that the king is to blame both for the poison on the sword and in the cup.

    Hamlet runs Claudius through with the poisoned sword and forces him to drink the poisoned wine. Claudius dies. Hamlet exchanges forgiveness with Laertes, who dies after absolving Hamlet.

    The sound of marching echoes through the hall. Fortinbras has come in conquest from Poland. Hamlet tells Horatio that he is dying, and urges his friend not to commit suicide, but to stay alive and tell his story. He says that he wishes Fortinbras to be King of Denmark; then he dies.

    Fortinbras marches into the room accompanied by the English ambassadors, who announce that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. Horatio says that he will tell everyone assembled the story that led to the gruesome scene now on display. Fortinbras orders for Hamlet to be carried away like a soldier.

  • SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle.

    FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO

    BERNARDO

    Who's there?

    FRANCISCO

    Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.

    BERNARDO

    Long live the king!

    FRANCISCO

    Bernardo?

    BERNARDO

    He.

    FRANCISCO

    You come most carefully upon your hour.

    BERNARDO

    'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.

    FRANCISCO

    For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,
    And I am sick at heart.

    BERNARDO

    Have you had quiet guard?

    FRANCISCO

    Not a mouse stirring.

    BERNARDO

    Well, good night.
    If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,
    The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.

    FRANCISCO

    I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there?

    ENTER HORATIO AND MARCELLUS

    HORATIO

    Friends to this ground.

    MARCELLUS

    And liegemen to the Dane.

    FRANCISCO

    Give you good night.

    MARCELLUS

    O, farewell, honest soldier:
    Who hath relieved you?

    FRANCISCO

    Bernardo has my place.
    Give you good night.

    EXIT

    MARCELLUS

    Holla! Bernardo!

    BERNARDO

    Say,
    What, is Horatio there?

    HORATIO

    A piece of him.

    BERNARDO

    Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.

    MARCELLUS

    What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?

    BERNARDO

    I have seen nothing.

    MARCELLUS

    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;
    That if again this apparition come,
    He may approve our eyes and speak to it.

    HORATIO

    Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.

    BERNARDO

    Sit down awhile;
    And let us once again assail your ears,
    That are so fortified against our story
    What we have two nights seen.

    HORATIO

    Well, sit we down,
    And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.

    BERNARDO

    Last night of all,
    When yond same star that's westward from the pole
    Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
    Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
    The bell then beating one,--

    ENTER GHOST

    MARCELLUS

    Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!

    BERNARDO

    In the same figure, like the king that's dead.

    MARCELLUS

    Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.

    BERNARDO

    Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.

    HORATIO

    Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.

    BERNARDO

    It would be spoke to.

    MARCELLUS

    Question it, Horatio.

    HORATIO

    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, speak!

    MARCELLUS

    It is offended.

    BERNARDO

    See, it stalks away!

    HORATIO

    Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!

    EXIT GHOST

    MARCELLUS

    'Tis gone, and will not answer.

    BERNARDO

    How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale:
    Is not this something more than fantasy?
    What think you on't?

    HORATIO

    Before my God, I might not this believe
    Without the sensible and true avouch
    Of mine own eyes.

    MARCELLUS

    Is it not like the king?

    HORATIO

    As thou art to thyself:
    Such was the very armour he had on
    When he the ambitious Norway combated;
    So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle,
    He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.
    'Tis strange.

    MARCELLUS

    Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,
    With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.

    HORATIO

    In what particular thought to work I know not;
    But in the gross and scope of my opinion,
    This bodes some strange eruption to our state.

    MARCELLUS

    Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,
    Why this same strict and most observant watch
    So nightly toils the subject of the land,
    And why such daily cast of brazen cannon,
    And foreign mart for implements of war;
    Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task
    Does not divide the Sunday from the week;
    What might be toward, that this sweaty haste
    Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day:
    Who is't that can inform me?

    HORATIO

    That can I;
    At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king,
    Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
    Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
    Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,
    Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet--
    For so this side of our known world esteem'd him--
    Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact,
    Well ratified by law and heraldry,
    Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands
    Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror:
    Against the which, a moiety competent
    Was gaged by our king; which had return'd
    To the inheritance of Fortinbras,
    Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant,
    And carriage of the article design'd,
    His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
    Of unimproved mettle hot and full,
    Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there
    Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,
    For food and diet, to some enterprise
    That hath a stomach in't; which is no other--
    As it doth well appear unto our state--
    But to recover of us, by strong hand
    And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands
    So by his father lost: and this, I take it,
    Is the main motive of our preparations,
    The source of this our watch and the chief head
    Of this post-haste and romage in the land.

    BERNARDO

    I think it be no other but e'en so:
    Well may it sort that this portentous figure
    Comes armed through our watch; so like the king
    That was and is the question of these wars.

    HORATIO

    A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
    In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
    A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
    The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead
    Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets:
    As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
    Disasters in the sun; and the moist star
    Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands
    Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:
    And even the like precurse of fierce events,
    As harbingers preceding still the fates
    And prologue to the omen coming on,
    Have heaven and earth together demonstrated
    Unto our climatures and countrymen.--
    But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!

    RE-ENTER GHOST

    I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!
    If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,
    Speak to me:
    If there be any good thing to be done,
    That may to thee do ease and grace to me,
    Speak to me:
    
    Cock crows
    If thou art privy to thy country's fate,
    Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak!
    Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life
    Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,
    For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,
    Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus.

    MARCELLUS

    Shall I strike at it with my partisan?

    HORATIO

    Do, if it will not stand.

    BERNARDO

    'Tis here!

    HORATIO

    'Tis here!

    MARCELLUS

    'Tis gone!

    EXIT GHOST

    We do it wrong, being so majestical,
    To offer it the show of violence;
    For it is, as the air, invulnerable,
    And our vain blows malicious mockery.

    BERNARDO

    It was about to speak, when the cock crew.

    HORATIO

    And then it started like a guilty thing
    Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,
    The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
    Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
    Awake the god of day; and, at his warning,
    Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
    The extravagant and erring spirit hies
    To his confine: and of the truth herein
    This present object made probation.

    MARCELLUS

    It faded on the crowing of the cock.
    Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes
    Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
    The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
    And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;
    The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
    No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
    So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

    HORATIO

    So have I heard and do in part believe it.
    But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
    Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill:
    Break we our watch up; and by my advice,
    Let us impart what we have seen to-night
    Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,
    This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
    Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
    As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?

    MARCELLUS

    Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know
    Where we shall find him most conveniently.

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE II. A room of state in the castle.

    ENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, LORDS, AND ATTENDANTS.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    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 woe,
    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 to this warlike state,
    Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,--
    With an auspicious and a 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.
    Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
    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 the 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 bonds 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 gait herein; in that the levies,
    The lists and full proportions, are all made
    Out of his subject: and we here dispatch
    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 delated articles allow.
    Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.

    CORNELIUS VOLTIMAND

    In that and all things will we show our duty.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    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 loose your voice: what wouldst 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 wouldst thou have, Laertes?

    LAERTES

    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 CLAUDIUS

    Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

    LORD POLONIUS

    He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave
    By laboursome petition, and at last
    Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:
    I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
    And thy best graces spend it at thy will!
    But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,--

    HAMLET

    [Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

    HAMLET

    Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
    And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
    Do not for ever with thy vailed lids
    Seek for thy noble father in the dust:
    Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,
    Passing through nature to eternity.

    HAMLET

    Ay, madam, it is common.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    If it be,
    Why seems it so particular with thee?

    HAMLET

    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 forced breath,
    No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
    Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage,
    Together with all forms, moods, shapes 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 woe.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
    To give these mourning duties to your father:
    But, you must know, your father lost a father;
    That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
    In filial obligation for some term
    To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever
    In obstinate condolement is a course
    Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief;
    It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
    A heart unfortified, a 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 woe, 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 GERTRUDE

    Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet:
    I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.

    HAMLET

    I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply:
    Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;
    This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet
    Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,
    No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,
    But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,
    And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again,
    Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.
    
    EXEUNT ALL BUT HAMLET

    HAMLET

    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! God!
    How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
    Seem to me all the uses of this world!
    Fie on't! ah 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 is 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, God! 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:
    Ere 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 tongue.
    
    ENTER HORATIO, MARCELLUS, AND BERNARDO

    HORATIO

    Hail to your lordship!

    HAMLET

    I am glad to see you well:
    Horatio,--or I do forget myself.

    HORATIO

    The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.

    HAMLET

    Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:
    And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus?

    MARCELLUS

    My good lord--

    HAMLET

    I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir.
    But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

    HORATIO

    A truant disposition, good my lord.

    HAMLET

    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.

    HORATIO

    My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

    HAMLET

    I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student;
    I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

    HORATIO

    Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

    HAMLET

    Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked 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.

    HORATIO

    Where, my lord?

    HAMLET

    In my mind's eye, Horatio.

    HORATIO

    I saw him once; he was a goodly king.

    HAMLET

    He was a man, take him for all in all,
    I shall not look upon his like again.

    HORATIO

    My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

    HAMLET

    Saw? who?

    HORATIO

    My lord, the king your father.

    HAMLET

    The king my father!

    HORATIO

    Season your admiration for awhile
    With an attent ear, till I may deliver,
    Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
    This marvel to you.

    HAMLET

    For God's love, let me hear.

    HORATIO

    Two nights together had these gentlemen,
    Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
    In the dead vast and middle of the night,
    Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,
    Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,
    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; whilst they, distilled
    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.

    HAMLET

    But where was this?

    MARCELLUS

    My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.

    HAMLET

    Did you not speak to it?

    HORATIO

    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.

    HAMLET

    'Tis very strange.

    HORATIO

    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.

    HAMLET

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

    MARCELLUS BERNARDO

    We do, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Arm'd, say you?

    MARCELLUS BERNARDO

    Arm'd, my lord.

    HAMLET

    From top to toe?

    MARCELLUS BERNARDO

    My lord, from head to foot.

    HAMLET

    Then saw you not his face?

    HORATIO

    O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.

    HAMLET

    What, look'd he frowningly?

    HORATIO

    A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

    HAMLET

    Pale or red?

    HORATIO

    Nay, very pale.

    HAMLET

    And fix'd his eyes upon you?

    HORATIO

    Most constantly.

    HAMLET

    I would I had been there.

    HORATIO

    It would have much amazed you.

    HAMLET

    Very like, very like. Stay'd it long?

    HORATIO

    While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

    MARCELLUS BERNARDO

    Longer, longer.

    HORATIO

    Not when I saw't.

    HAMLET

    His beard was grizzled--no?

    HORATIO

    It was, as I have seen it in his life,
    A sable silver'd.

    HAMLET

    I will watch to-night;
    Perchance 'twill walk again.

    HORATIO

    I warrant it will.

    HAMLET

    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.

    HAMLET

    Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.

    EXEUNT ALL BUT HAMLET

    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 men's eyes.

    EXIT

  • SCENE III. A room in Polonius’ house.

    ENTER LAERTES AND OPHELIA

    LAERTES

    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.

    OPHELIA

    Do you doubt that?

    LAERTES

    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.

    OPHELIA

    No more but so?

    LAERTES

    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 health of this whole state;
    And therefore must his choice be circumscribed
    Unto the voice and yielding of that body
    Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he 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,
    If with too credent ear you list his songs,
    Or lose 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:
    Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes:
    The canker galls the infants of the spring,
    Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,
    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.

    OPHELIA

    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;
    Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
    Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
    And recks not his own rede.

    LAERTES

    O, fear me not.
    I stay too long: but here my father comes.

    ENTER POLONIUS

    A double blessing is a double grace,
    Occasion smiles upon a second leave.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!
    The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
    And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee!
    And these few precepts in thy memory
    See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
    Nor any unproportioned thought his act.
    Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
    Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
    Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
    But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
    Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware
    Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
    Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee.
    Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
    Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
    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 of a 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.
    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!

    LAERTES

    Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.

    LORD POLONIUS

    The time invites you; go; your servants tend.

    LAERTES

    Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well
    What I have said to you.

    OPHELIA

    'Tis in my memory lock'd,
    And you yourself shall keep the key of it.

    LAERTES

    Farewell.

    EXIT

    LORD POLONIUS

    What is't, Ophelia, be hath said to you?

    OPHELIA

    So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Marry, well bethought:
    'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late
    Given private time to you; and you yourself
    Have of your audience been most free and bounteous:
    If it be so, as so 'tis put on me,
    And that in way of caution, I must tell you,
    You do not understand yourself so clearly
    As it behoves my daughter and your honour.
    What is between you? give me up the truth.

    OPHELIA

    He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders
    Of his affection to me.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl,
    Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
    Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?

    OPHELIA

    I do not know, my lord, what I should think.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby;
    That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay,
    Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly;
    Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
    Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool.

    OPHELIA

    My lord, he hath importuned me with love
    In honourable fashion.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.

    OPHELIA

    And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,
    With almost all the holy vows of heaven.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,
    When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
    Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,
    Giving more light than heat, extinct in both,
    Even in their promise, as it is a-making,
    You must not take for fire. From this time
    Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence;
    Set your entreatments at a higher rate
    Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,
    Believe so much in him, that he is young
    And with a larger tether may he walk
    Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia,
    Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,
    Not of that dye which their investments show,
    But mere implorators of unholy suits,
    Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,
    The better to beguile. This is for all:
    I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth,
    Have you so slander any moment leisure,
    As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
    Look to't, I charge you: come your ways.

    OPHELIA

    I shall obey, my lord.

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE IV. The platform.

    ENTER HAMLET, HORATIO, AND MARCELLUS

    HAMLET

    The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.

    HORATIO

    It is a nipping and an eager air.

    HAMLET

    What hour now?

    HORATIO

    I think it lacks of twelve.

    HAMLET

    No, it is struck.

    HORATIO

    Indeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the season
    Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
    
    A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within
    What does this mean, my lord?

    HAMLET

    The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse,
    Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels;
    And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,
    The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out
    The triumph of his pledge.

    HORATIO

    Is it a custom?

    HAMLET

    Ay, marry, is't:
    But to my mind, though I am native here
    And to the manner born, it is a custom
    More honour'd in the breach than the observance.
    This heavy-headed revel east and west
    Makes us traduced and tax'd of other nations:
    They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase
    Soil our addition; and indeed it takes
    From our achievements, though perform'd at height,
    The pith and marrow of our attribute.
    So, oft it chances in particular men,
    That for some vicious mole of nature in them,
    As, in their birth--wherein they are not guilty,
    Since nature cannot choose his origin--
    By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,
    Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason,
    Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens
    The form of plausive manners, that these men,
    Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,
    Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,--
    Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace,
    As infinite as man may undergo--
    Shall in the general censure take corruption
    From that particular fault: the dram of eale
    Doth all the noble substance of a doubt
    To his own scandal.

    HORATIO

    Look, my lord, it comes!

    ENTER GHOST

    HAMLET

    Angels and ministers of grace defend us!
    Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,
    Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
    Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
    Thou comest in such a questionable shape
    That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet,
    King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me!
    Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell
    Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death,
    Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre,
    Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,
    Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws,
    To cast thee up again. What may this mean,
    That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel
    Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,
    Making night hideous; and we fools of nature
    So horridly to shake our disposition
    With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
    Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?

    GHOST BECKONS HAMLET

    HORATIO

    It beckons you to go away with it,
    As if it some impartment did desire
    To you alone.

    MARCELLUS

    Look, with what courteous action
    It waves you to a more removed ground:
    But do not go with it.

    HORATIO

    No, by no means.

    HAMLET

    It will not speak; then I will follow it.

    HORATIO

    Do not, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Why, what should be the fear?
    I do not set my life in a pin's fee;
    And for my soul, what can it do to that,
    Being a thing immortal as itself?
    It waves me forth again: I'll follow it.

    HORATIO

    What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,
    Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff
    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.

    HAMLET

    It waves me still.
    Go on; I'll follow thee.

    MARCELLUS

    You shall not go, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Hold off your hands.

    HORATIO

    Be ruled; you shall not go.

    HAMLET

    My fate cries out,
    And makes each petty artery in this body
    As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
    Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen.
    By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!
    I say, away! Go on; I'll follow thee.

    EXEUNT GHOST AND HAMLET

    HORATIO

    He waxes desperate with imagination.

    MARCELLUS

    Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him.

    HORATIO

    Have after. To what issue will this come?

    MARCELLUS

    Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.

    HORATIO

    Heaven will direct it.

    MARCELLUS

    Nay, let's follow him.

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE V. Another part of the platform.

    ENTER GHOST AND HAMLET

    HAMLET

    Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further.

    GHOST

    Mark me.

    HAMLET

    I will.

    GHOST

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

    HAMLET

    Alas, poor ghost!

    GHOST

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

    HAMLET

    Speak; I am bound to hear.

    GHOST

    So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.

    HAMLET

    What?

    GHOST

    I am thy father's spirit,
    Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
    And for the day confined to fast in fires,
    Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
    Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid
    To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
    I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
    Would harrow 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 on end,
    Like quills upon the fretful porpentine:
    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--

    HAMLET

    O God!

    GHOST

    Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.

    HAMLET

    Murder!

    GHOST

    Murder most foul, as in the best it is;
    But this most foul, strange and unnatural.

    HAMLET

    Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift
    As meditation or the thoughts of love,
    May sweep to my revenge.

    GHOST

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

    HAMLET

    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!
    But virtue, as it never will be moved,
    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.
    But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;
    Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,
    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 my 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 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 lazar-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 dispatch'd:
    Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
    Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd,
    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 pursuest 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! Hamlet, remember me.

    EXIT

    HAMLET

    O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else?
    And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart;
    And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
    But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee!
    Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat
    In this distracted globe. Remember thee!
    Yea, from the table of my memory
    I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,
    All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,
    That youth and observation copied there;
    And thy commandment all alone shall live
    Within the book and volume of my brain,
    Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!
    O most pernicious woman!
    O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!
    My tables,--meet it is I set it down,
    That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
    At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark:
    
    Writing
    So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;
    It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.'
    I have sworn 't.

    MARCELLUS HORATIO

    [Within] My lord, my lord,--

    MARCELLUS

    [Within] Lord Hamlet,--

    HORATIO

    [Within] Heaven secure him!

    HAMLET

    So be it!

    HORATIO

    [Within] Hillo, ho, ho, my lord!

    HAMLET

    Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.
    
    ENTER HORATIO AND MARCELLUS

    MARCELLUS

    How is't, my noble lord?

    HORATIO

    What news, my lord?

    HAMLET

    O, wonderful!

    HORATIO

    Good my lord, tell it.

    HAMLET

    No; you'll reveal it.

    HORATIO

    Not I, my lord, by heaven.

    MARCELLUS

    Nor I, my lord.

    HAMLET

    How say you, then; would heart of man once think it?
    But you'll be secret?

    HORATIO MARCELLUS

    Ay, by heaven, my lord.

    HAMLET

    There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark
    But he's an arrant knave.

    HORATIO

    There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave
    To tell us this.

    HAMLET

    Why, right; you are i' the right;
    And so, 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 has business and desire,
    Such as it is; and for mine own poor part,
    Look you, I'll go pray.

    HORATIO

    These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

    HAMLET

    I'm sorry they offend you, heartily;
    Yes, 'faith heartily.

    HORATIO

    There's no offence, my lord.

    HAMLET

    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'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends,
    As you are friends, scholars and soldiers,
    Give me one poor request.

    HORATIO

    What is't, my lord? we will.

    HAMLET

    Never make known what you have seen to-night.

    HORATIO MARCELLUS

    My lord, we will not.

    HAMLET

    Nay, but swear't.

    HORATIO

    In faith,
    My lord, not I.

    MARCELLUS

    Nor I, my lord, in faith.

    HAMLET

    Upon my sword.

    MARCELLUS

    We have sworn, my lord, already.

    HAMLET

    Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.

    GHOST

    [Beneath] Swear.

    HAMLET

    Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there,
    truepenny?
    Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage--
    Consent to swear.

    HORATIO

    Propose the oath, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Never to speak of this that you have seen,
    Swear by my sword.

    GHOST

    [Beneath] Swear.

    HAMLET

    Hic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground.
    Come hither, gentlemen,
    And lay your hands again upon my sword:
    Never to speak of this that you have heard,
    Swear by my sword.

    GHOST

    [Beneath] Swear.

    HAMLET

    Well said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast?
    A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.

    HORATIO

    O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!

    HAMLET

    And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
    There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
    Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. 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 headshake,
    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 not to do,
    So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear.

    GHOST

    [Beneath] Swear.

    HAMLET

    Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!
    
    They swear
    So, gentlemen,
    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

  • SCENE I. A room in POLONIUS’ house.

    ENTER POLONIUS AND REYNALDO

    LORD POLONIUS

    Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo.

    REYNALDO

    I will, my lord.

    LORD POLONIUS

    You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo,
    Before you visit him, to make inquire
    Of his behavior.

    REYNALDO

    My lord, I did intend it.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir,
    Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris;
    And how, and who, what means, and where they keep,
    What company, at what expense; and finding
    By this encompassment and drift of question
    That they do know my son, come you more nearer
    Than your particular demands will touch it:
    Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him;
    As thus, 'I know his father and his friends,
    And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo?

    REYNALDO

    Ay, very well, my lord.

    LORD POLONIUS

    'And in part him; but' you may say 'not well:
    But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild;
    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.

    REYNALDO

    As gaming, my lord.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling,
    Drabbing: you may go so far.

    REYNALDO

    My lord, that would dishonour him.

    LORD POLONIUS

    'Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge
    You must not put another scandal on him,
    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 outbreak of a fiery mind,
    A savageness in unreclaimed blood,
    Of general assault.

    REYNALDO

    But, my good lord,--

    LORD POLONIUS

    Wherefore should you do this?

    REYNALDO

    Ay, my lord,
    I would know that.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Marry, sir, here's my drift;
    And I believe, it is a fetch of wit:
    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 assured
    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.

    REYNALDO

    Very good, my lord.

    LORD POLONIUS

    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?

    REYNALDO

    At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,'
    and 'gentleman.'

    LORD POLONIUS

    At 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry;
    He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman;
    I saw him yesterday, or t' other day,
    Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say,
    There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's 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 windlasses 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?

    REYNALDO

    My lord, I have.

    LORD POLONIUS

    God be wi' you; fare you well.

    REYNALDO

    Good my lord!

    LORD POLONIUS

    Observe his inclination in yourself.

    REYNALDO

    I shall, my lord.

    LORD POLONIUS

    And let him ply his music.

    REYNALDO

    Well, my lord.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Farewell!

    EXIT REYNALDO

    ENTER OPHELIA

    How now, Ophelia! what's the matter?

    OPHELIA

    O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!

    LORD POLONIUS

    With what, i' the name of God?

    OPHELIA

    My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,
    Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced;
    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.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Mad for thy love?

    OPHELIA

    My lord, I do not know;
    But truly, I do fear it.

    LORD POLONIUS

    What said he?

    OPHELIA

    He took me by the wrist and held me hard;
    Then goes he to the length of all his arm;
    And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
    He falls to such perusal of my face
    As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so;
    At last, a little shaking of mine arm
    And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
    He raised 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.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Come, go with me: I will go seek the king.
    This is the very ecstasy of love,
    Whose violent property fordoes 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?

    OPHELIA

    No, my good lord, but, as you did command,
    I did repel his fetters and denied
    His access to me.

    LORD POLONIUS

    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 jealousy!
    By heaven, it is as proper to our age
    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
    move
    More grief to hide than hate to utter love.

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE II. A room in the castle.

    ENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, AND ATTENDANTS

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!
    Moreover that we much did long to see you,
    The need we have to use you did provoke
    Our hasty sending. Something have you heard
    Of Hamlet's transformation; so call it,
    Sith nor 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,
    And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior,
    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, afflicts him thus,
    That, open'd, lies within our remedy.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

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

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    GUILDENSTERN

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

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz:
    And I beseech you instantly to visit
    My too much changed son. Go, some of you,
    And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.

    GUILDENSTERN

    Heavens make our presence and our practises
    Pleasant and helpful to him!

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Ay, amen!

    EXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, AND SOME ATTENDANTS

    ENTER POLONIUS

    LORD POLONIUS

    The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord,
    Are joyfully return'd.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Thou still hast been the father of good news.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Have I, my lord? I assure 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 used to do, that I have found
    The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    O, speak of that; that do I long to hear.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Give first admittance to the ambassadors;
    My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    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 GERTRUDE

    I doubt it is no other but the main;
    His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Well, we shall sift him.

    RE-ENTER POLONIUS, WITH VOLTIMAND AND CORNELIUS
    Welcome, my good friends!
    Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?

    VOLTIMAND

    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 grieved,
    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 the 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,
    
    Giving a paper
    That it might please you to give quiet pass
    Through your dominions for this enterprise,
    On such regards of safety and allowance
    As therein are set down.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    It likes us well;
    And at our more consider'd time well read,
    Answer, and think upon this business.
    Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour:
    Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together:
    Most welcome home!

    EXEUNT VOLTIMAND AND CORNELIUS

    LORD POLONIUS

    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 GERTRUDE

    More matter, with less art.

    LORD POLONIUS

    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.

    READS

    'To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most
    beautified Ophelia,'--
    That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is
    a vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus:

    READS

    'In her excellent white bosom, these, & c.'

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Came this from Hamlet to her?

    LORD POLONIUS

    Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.

    READS

    ‘Doubt thou the stars are fire;
    Doubt that the sun doth move;
    Doubt truth to be a liar;
    But never doubt I love.
    ‘O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers;
    I 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 CLAUDIUS

    But how hath she
    Received his love?

    LORD POLONIUS

    What do you think of me?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    As of a man faithful and honourable.

    LORD POLONIUS

    I would fain prove so. But what might you think,
    When I had seen this hot love on the wing--
    As I perceived 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 winking, 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 I did bespeak:
    'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star;
    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;
    And he, repulsed--a short tale to make--
    Fell into a sadness, then into a fast,
    Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness,
    Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension,
    Into the madness wherein now he raves,
    And all we mourn for.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Do you think 'tis this?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    It may be, very likely.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Hath there been such a time--I'd fain know that--
    That I have positively said 'Tis so,'
    When it proved otherwise?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Not that I know.

    LORD POLONIUS

    [Pointing to his head and shoulder]
    Take this from this, if this be otherwise:
    If circumstances lead me, I will find
    Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed
    Within the centre.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    How may we try it further?

    LORD POLONIUS

    You know, sometimes he walks four hours together
    Here in the lobby.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    So he does indeed.

    LORD POLONIUS

    At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him:
    Be you and I behind an arras then;
    Mark the encounter: if he love her not
    And be not from his reason fall'n thereon,
    Let me be no assistant for a state,
    But keep a farm and carters.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    We will try it.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Away, I do beseech you, both away:
    I'll board him presently.

    EXEUNT KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, AND ATTENDANTS

    ENTER HAMLET, READING

    O, give me leave:
    How does my good Lord Hamlet?

    HAMLET

    Well, God-a-mercy.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Do you know me, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Not I, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Then I would you were so honest a man.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Honest, my lord!

    HAMLET

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

    LORD POLONIUS

    That's very true, my lord.

    HAMLET

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

    LORD POLONIUS

    I have, my lord.

    HAMLET

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

    LORD POLONIUS

    [Aside] How say you by that? 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 him again.
    What do you read, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Words, words, words.

    LORD POLONIUS

    What is the matter, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Between who?

    LORD POLONIUS

    I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.

    HAMLET

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

    LORD POLONIUS

    [Aside] Though this be madness, yet there is method
    in 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Into my grave.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Indeed, that is out o' the air.
    
    Aside
    How pregnant 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.

    HAMLET

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

    LORD POLONIUS

    Fare you well, my lord.

    HAMLET

    These tedious old fools!

    ENTER ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    LORD POLONIUS

    You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    [To POLONIUS] God save you, sir!

    EXIT POLONIUS

    GUILDENSTERN

    My honoured lord!

    ROSENCRANTZ

    My most dear lord!

    HAMLET

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

    ROSENCRANTZ

    As the indifferent children of the earth.

    GUILDENSTERN

    Happy, in that we are not over-happy;
    On fortune's cap we are not the very button.

    HAMLET

    Nor the soles of her shoe?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Neither, my lord.

    HAMLET

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

    GUILDENSTERN

    'Faith, her privates we.

    HAMLET

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

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    HAMLET

    Then is doomsday 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?

    GUILDENSTERN

    Prison, my lord!

    HAMLET

    Denmark's a prison.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Then is the world one.

    HAMLET

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

    ROSENCRANTZ

    We think not so, my lord.

    HAMLET

    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.

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    HAMLET

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

    GUILDENSTERN

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

    HAMLET

    A dream itself is but a shadow.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a
    quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.

    HAMLET

    Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and
    outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we
    to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason.

    ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN

    We'll wait upon you.

    HAMLET

    No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest
    of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest
    man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the
    beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.

    HAMLET

    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,
    deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak.

    GUILDENSTERN

    What should we say, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Why, any thing, but to the purpose. You 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.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    To what end, my lord?

    HAMLET

    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, or no?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    [Aside to GUILDENSTERN] What say you?

    HAMLET

    [Aside] Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If you
    love me, hold not off.

    GUILDENSTERN

    My lord, we were sent for.

    HAMLET

    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, forgone 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 a man! how noble in reason!
    how infinite in faculty! 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: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling
    you seem to say so.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.

    HAMLET

    Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me'?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what
    lenten entertainment the players shall receive from
    you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they
    coming, to offer you service.

    HAMLET

    He that plays the king shall be welcome; his majesty
    shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight
    shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not
    sigh gratis; the humourous 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?

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    HAMLET

    How chances it they travel? their residence, both
    in reputation and profit, was better both ways.

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    HAMLET

    Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was
    in the city? are they so followed?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    No, indeed, are they not.

    HAMLET

    How comes it? do they grow rusty?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but
    there is, sir, an aery 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.

    HAMLET

    What, are they children? who maintains 'em? 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?

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    HAMLET

    Is't possible?

    GUILDENSTERN

    O, there has been much throwing about of brains.

    HAMLET

    Do the boys carry it away?

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    HAMLET

    It is not very strange; for mine uncle is king of
    Denmark, and those that would make mows 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

    GUILDENSTERN

    There are the players.

    HAMLET

    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, I tell you,
    must show fairly outward, should more appear like
    entertainment than yours. You are welcome: but my
    uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.

    GUILDENSTERN

    In what, my dear lord?

    HAMLET

    I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is
    southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.

    ENTER POLONIUS

    LORD POLONIUS

    Well be with you, gentlemen!

    HAMLET

    Hark you, Guildenstern; and you too: at each ear a
    hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet
    out of his swaddling-clouts.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Happily he's the second time come to them; for they
    say an old man is twice a child.

    HAMLET

    I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players;
    mark it. You say right, sir: o' Monday morning;
    'twas so indeed.

    LORD POLONIUS

    My lord, I have news to tell you.

    HAMLET

    My lord, I have news to tell you.
    When Roscius was an actor in Rome,--

    LORD POLONIUS

    The actors are come hither, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Buz, buz!

    LORD POLONIUS

    Upon mine honour,--

    HAMLET

    Then came each actor on his ass,--

    LORD POLONIUS

    The best actors in the world, either for tragedy,
    comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical,
    historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-
    comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or
    poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor
    Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the
    liberty, these are the only men.

    HAMLET

    O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!

    LORD POLONIUS

    What a treasure had he, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Why,
    'One fair daughter and no more,
    The which he loved passing well.'

    LORD POLONIUS

    [Aside] Still on my daughter.

    HAMLET

    Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah?

    LORD POLONIUS

    If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter
    that I love passing well.

    HAMLET

    Nay, that follows not.

    LORD POLONIUS

    What follows, then, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Why,
    'As by lot, God wot,'
    and then, you know,
    'It came to pass, as most like it was,'--
    the first row of the pious chanson will show you
    more; for look, where my abridgement comes.

    ENTER FOUR OR FIVE PLAYERS

    You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am glad
    to see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my old
    friend! thy face is valenced since I saw thee last:
    comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my young
    lady and mistress! By'r lady, your ladyship is
    nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the
    altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like
    apiece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the
    ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en
    to't like French falconers, fly at any thing we see:
    we'll have a speech straight: come, give us a taste
    of your quality; come, a passionate speech.

    FIRST PLAYER

    What speech, my lord?

    HAMLET

    I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was
    never acted; or, if it was, not above once; for the
    play, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twas
    caviare to the general: but it was--as I received
    it, and others, whose judgments in such matters
    cried in the top of mine--an excellent play, well
    digested in the scenes, set down with as much
    modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there
    were no sallets in the lines to make the matter
    savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might
    indict the author of affectation; but called it an
    honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very
    much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I
    chiefly loved: 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; and
    thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of
    Priam's slaughter: if it live in your memory, begin
    at this line: let me see, let me see--
    'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,'--
    it is not so:--it begins with Pyrrhus:--
    'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms,
    Black as his purpose, did the night resemble
    When he lay couched in the ominous horse,
    Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd
    With heraldry more dismal; head to foot
    Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd
    With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,
    Baked and impasted with the parching streets,
    That lend a tyrannous and damned light
    To their lord's murder: roasted in wrath and fire,
    And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore,
    With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus
    Old grandsire Priam seeks.'
    So, proceed you.

    LORD POLONIUS

    'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and
    good discretion.

    FIRST PLAYER

    'Anon he finds him
    Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword,
    Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
    Repugnant to command: unequal match'd,
    Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide;
    But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword
    The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,
    Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top
    Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash
    Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword,
    Which was declining on the milky head
    Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick:
    So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood,
    And like a neutral to his will and matter,
    Did nothing.
    But, as we often see, against some storm,
    A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,
    The bold winds speechless and the orb below
    As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder
    Doth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause,
    Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work;
    And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
    On Mars's armour forged for proof eterne
    With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword
    Now falls on Priam.
    Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods,
    In general synod 'take away her power;
    Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,
    And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven,
    As low as to the fiends!'

    LORD POLONIUS

    This is too long.

    HAMLET

    It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee,
    say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he
    sleeps: say on: come to Hecuba.

    FIRST PLAYER

    'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--'

    HAMLET

    'The mobled queen?'

    LORD POLONIUS

    That's good; 'mobled queen' is good.

    FIRST PLAYER

    'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames
    With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head
    Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe,
    About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins,
    A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;
    Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd,
    'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have
    pronounced:
    But if the gods themselves did see her then
    When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport
    In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs,
    The instant burst of clamour that she made,
    Unless things mortal move them not at all,
    Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven,
    And passion in the gods.'

    LORD POLONIUS

    Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has
    tears in's eyes. Pray you, no more.

    HAMLET

    'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon.
    Good my lord, will you see the players well
    bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for
    they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the
    time: after your death you were better have a bad
    epitaph than their ill report while you live.

    LORD POLONIUS

    My lord, I will use them according to their desert.

    HAMLET

    God's bodykins, man, much better: use every man
    after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping?
    Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less
    they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.
    Take them in.

    LORD POLONIUS

    Come, sirs.

    HAMLET

    Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow.

    EXIT POLONIUS WITH ALL THE PLAYERS BUT THE FIRST

    Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the
    Murder of Gonzago?

    FIRST PLAYER

    Ay, my lord.

    HAMLET

    We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need,
    study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which
    I would set down and insert in't, could you not?

    FIRST PLAYER

    Ay, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him
    not.

    EXIT FIRST PLAYER

    My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are
    welcome to Elsinore.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Good my lord!

    HAMLET

    Ay, so, God be wi' ye;

    EXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    Now I am alone.
    O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
    Is it not monstrous that this player here,
    But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
    Could force his soul so to his own conceit
    That from her working all his visage wann'd,
    Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
    A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
    With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing!
    For Hecuba!
    What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
    That he should weep for her? What would he do,
    Had he the motive and the cue for passion
    That I have? He would drown the stage with tears
    And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,
    Make mad the guilty and appal the free,
    Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed
    The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,
    A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,
    Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,
    And can say nothing; no, not for a king,
    Upon whose property and most dear life
    A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?
    Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?
    Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
    Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat,
    As deep as to the lungs? who does me this?
    Ha!
    'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be
    But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall
    To make oppression bitter, or ere this
    I should have fatted all the region kites
    With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain!
    Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!
    O, vengeance!
    Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,
    That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,
    Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,
    Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,
    And fall a-cursing, like a very drab,
    A scullion!
    Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard
    That guilty creatures sitting at a play
    Have by the very cunning of the scene
    Been struck so to the soul that presently
    They have proclaim'd their malefactions;
    For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
    With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players
    Play something like the murder of my father
    Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;
    I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench,
    I know my course. The spirit that I have seen
    May be the devil: and the devil hath power
    To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps
    Out of my weakness and my melancholy,
    As he is very potent with such spirits,
    Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds
    More relative than this: the play 's the thing
    Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.

    EXIT

  • SCENE I. A room in the castle.

    ENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, AND GUILDENSTERN

    KING CLAUDIUS

    And can you, by no drift of circumstance,
    Get from him why he puts on this confusion,
    Grating so harshly all his days of quiet
    With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    He does confess he feels himself distracted;
    But from what cause he will by no means speak.

    GUILDENSTERN

    Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
    But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,
    When we would bring him on to some confession
    Of his true state.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Did he receive you well?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Most like a gentleman.

    GUILDENSTERN

    But with much forcing of his disposition.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Niggard of question; but, of our demands,
    Most free in his reply.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Did you assay him?
    To any pastime?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Madam, it so fell out, that certain players
    We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him;
    And there did seem in him a kind of joy
    To hear of it: they are about the court,
    And, as I think, they have already order
    This night to play before him.

    LORD POLONIUS

    'Tis most true:
    And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties
    To hear and see the matter.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    With all my heart; and it doth much content me
    To hear him so inclined.
    Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,
    And drive his purpose on to these delights.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    We shall, my lord.

    EXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Sweet Gertrude, leave us too;
    For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,
    That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
    Affront Ophelia:
    Her father and myself, lawful espials,
    Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen,
    We may of their encounter frankly judge,
    And gather by him, as he is behaved,
    If 't be the affliction of his love or no
    That thus he suffers for.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    I shall obey you.
    And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish
    That your good beauties be the happy cause
    Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues
    Will bring him to his wonted way again,
    To both your honours.

    OPHELIA

    Madam, I wish it may.

    EXIT QUEEN GERTRUDE

    LORD POLONIUS

    Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you,
    We will bestow ourselves.

    TO OPHELIA
    Read on this book;
    That show of such an exercise may colour
    Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,—
    ‘Tis too much proved—that with devotion’s visage
    And pious action we do sugar o’er
    The devil himself.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    [Aside] O, 'tis too true!
    How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!
    The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art,
    Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it
    Than is my deed to my most painted word:
    O heavy burthen!

    LORD POLONIUS

    I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord.

    EXEUNT KING CLAUDIUS AND POLONIUS
    ENTER HAMLET

    HAMLET

    To be, or not to be: that is the question:
    Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
    The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
    Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
    And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
    No more; and by a sleep to say we end
    The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
    That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
    Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
    To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
    For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
    When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
    Must give us pause: there's the respect
    That makes calamity of so long life;
    For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
    The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
    The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
    The insolence of office and the spurns
    That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
    When he himself might his quietus make
    With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
    To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
    But that the dread of something after death,
    The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
    No traveller returns, puzzles the will
    And makes us rather bear those ills we have
    Than fly to others that we know not of?
    Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
    And thus the native hue of resolution
    Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
    And enterprises of great pith and moment
    With this regard their currents turn awry,
    And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!
    The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
    Be all my sins remember'd.

    OPHELIA

    Good my lord,
    How does your honour for this many a day?

    HAMLET

    I humbly thank you; well, well, well.

    OPHELIA

    My lord, I have remembrances of yours,
    That I have longed long to re-deliver;
    I pray you, now receive them.

    HAMLET

    No, not I;
    I never gave you aught.

    OPHELIA

    My honour'd lord, you know right well you did;
    And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed
    As made the things more rich: their perfume lost,
    Take these again; for to the noble mind
    Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
    There, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Ha, ha! are you honest?

    OPHELIA

    My lord?

    HAMLET

    Are you fair?

    OPHELIA

    What means your lordship?

    HAMLET

    That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should
    admit no discourse to your beauty.

    OPHELIA

    Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than
    with honesty?

    HAMLET

    Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner
    transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the
    force of honesty can translate beauty into his
    likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the
    time gives it proof. I did love you once.

    OPHELIA

    Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.

    HAMLET

    You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot
    so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of
    it: I loved you not.

    OPHELIA

    I was the more deceived.

    HAMLET

    Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a
    breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest;
    but yet I could accuse me of such things that it
    were better my mother had not borne me: I am very
    proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at
    my beck than I have thoughts to put them in,
    imagination to give them shape, or time to act them
    in. What should such fellows as I do crawling
    between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves,
    all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.
    Where's your father?

    OPHELIA

    At home, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the
    fool no where but in's own house. Farewell.

    OPHELIA

    O, help him, you sweet heavens!

    HAMLET

    If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for
    thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as
    snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a
    nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs
    marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough
    what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go,
    and quickly too. Farewell.

    OPHELIA

    O heavenly powers, restore him!

    HAMLET

    I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God
    has given you one face, and you make yourselves
    another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and
    nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness
    your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath
    made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages:
    those that are married already, all but one, shall
    live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a
    nunnery, go.

    EXIT

    OPHELIA

    O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
    The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword;
    The expectancy and rose of the fair state,
    The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
    The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
    And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
    That suck'd the honey of his music vows,
    Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
    Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;
    That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth
    Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me,
    To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

    RE-ENTER KING CLAUDIUS AND POLONIUS

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Love! his affections do not that way tend;
    Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,
    Was not like madness. There's something in his soul,
    O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;
    And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose
    Will be some danger: which for to prevent,
    I have in quick determination
    Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England,
    For the demand of our neglected tribute
    Haply the seas and countries different
    With variable objects shall expel
    This something-settled matter in his heart,
    Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus
    From fashion of himself. What think you on't?

    LORD POLONIUS

    It shall do well: but yet do I believe
    The origin and commencement of his grief
    Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia!
    You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said;
    We heard it all. My lord, do as you please;
    But, if you hold it fit, after the play
    Let his queen mother all alone entreat him
    To show his grief: let her be round with him;
    And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear
    Of all their conference. If she find him not,
    To England send him, or confine him where
    Your wisdom best shall think.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    It shall be so:
    Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go.

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE II. A hall in the castle.

    ENTER HAMLET AND PLAYERS

    HAMLET

    Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to
    you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it,
    as many of your players do, I had as lief the
    town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air
    too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently;
    for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say,
    the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget
    a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it
    offends me to the soul to hear a robustious
    periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to
    very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who
    for the most part are capable of nothing but
    inexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have such
    a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it
    out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.

    FIRST PLAYER

    I warrant your honour.

    HAMLET

    Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion
    be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the
    word to the action; with this special o'erstep not
    the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is
    from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the
    first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the
    mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature,
    scorn her own image, and the very age and body of
    the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone,
    or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful
    laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the
    censure of the which one must in your allowance
    o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be
    players that I have seen play, and heard others
    praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely,
    that, neither having the accent of Christians nor
    the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so
    strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of
    nature's journeymen had made men and not made them
    well, they imitated humanity so abominably.

    FIRST PLAYER

    I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us,
    sir.

    HAMLET

    O, reform it altogether. And let those that play
    your clowns speak no more than is set down for them;
    for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to
    set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh
    too; though, in the mean time, some necessary
    question of the play be then to be considered:
    that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition
    in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready.

    EXEUNT PLAYERS

    ENTER POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, AND GUILDENSTERN

    How now, my lord! I will the king hear this piece of work?

    LORD POLONIUS

    And the queen too, and that presently.

    HAMLET

    Bid the players make haste.

    EXIT POLONIUS
    Will you two help to hasten them?

    ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN

    We will, my lord.

    EXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    HAMLET

    What ho! Horatio!

    ENTER HORATIO

    HORATIO

    Here, sweet lord, at your service.

    HAMLET

    Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man
    As e'er my conversation coped withal.

    HORATIO

    O, my dear lord,--

    HAMLET

    Nay, do not think I flatter;
    For what advancement may I hope from thee
    That no revenue hast but thy good spirits,
    To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd?
    No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,
    And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee
    Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?
    Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice
    And could of men distinguish, her election
    Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been
    As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing,
    A man that fortune's buffets and rewards
    Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those
    Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled,
    That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger
    To sound what stop she please. Give me that man
    That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him
    In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,
    As I do thee.--Something too much of this.--
    There is a play to-night before the king;
    One scene of it comes near the circumstance
    Which I have told thee of my father's death:
    I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,
    Even with the very comment of thy soul
    Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt
    Do not itself unkennel in one speech,
    It is a damned ghost that we have seen,
    And my imaginations are as foul
    As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note;
    For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,
    And after we will both our judgments join
    In censure of his seeming.

    HORATIO

    Well, my lord:
    If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing,
    And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft.

    HAMLET

    They are coming to the play; I must be idle:
    Get you a place.

    DANISH MARCH. A FLOURISH. ENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, AND OTHERS

    KING CLAUDIUS

    How fares our cousin Hamlet?

    HAMLET

    Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eat
    the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words
    are not mine.

    HAMLET

    No, nor mine now.

    TO POLONIUS

    My lord, you played once i' the university, you say?

    LORD POLONIUS

    That did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor.

    HAMLET

    What did you enact?

    LORD POLONIUS

    I did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' the
    Capitol; Brutus killed me.

    HAMLET

    It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. Be the players ready?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.

    HAMLET

    No, good mother, here's metal more attractive.

    LORD POLONIUS

    [To KING CLAUDIUS] O, ho! do you mark that?

    HAMLET

    Lady, shall I lie in your lap?
    
    Lying down at OPHELIA's feet

    OPHELIA

    No, my lord.

    HAMLET

    I mean, my head upon your lap?

    OPHELIA

    Ay, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Do you think I meant country matters?

    OPHELIA

    I think nothing, my lord.

    HAMLET

    That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs.

    OPHELIA

    What is, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Nothing.

    OPHELIA

    You are merry, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Who, I?

    OPHELIA

    Ay, my lord.

    HAMLET

    O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do
    but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my
    mother looks, and my father died within these two hours.

    OPHELIA

    Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord.

    HAMLET

    So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for
    I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two
    months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's
    hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half
    a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches,
    then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with
    the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is 'For, O, for, O,
    the hobby-horse is forgot.'

    HAUTBOYS PLAY. THE DUMB-SHOW ENTERS.

    Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love.

    EXEUNT.

    OPHELIA

    What means this, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief.

    OPHELIA

    Belike this show imports the argument of the play.

    ENTER PROLOGUE

    HAMLET

    We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot
    keep counsel; they'll tell all.

    OPHELIA

    Will he tell us what this show meant?

    HAMLET

    Ay, or any show that you'll show him: be not you
    ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means.

    OPHELIA

    You are naught, you are naught: I'll mark the play.

    PROLOGUE

    For us, and for our tragedy,
    Here stooping to your clemency,
    We beg your hearing patiently.

    EXIT

    HAMLET

    Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?

    OPHELIA

    'Tis brief, my lord.

    HAMLET

    As woman's love.

    ENTER TWO PLAYERS, KING AND QUEEN

    PLAYER KING

    Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round
    Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground,
    And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheen
    About the world have times twelve thirties been,
    Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands
    Unite commutual in most sacred bands.

    PLAYER QUEEN

    So many journeys may the sun and moon
    Make us again count o'er ere love be done!
    But, woe is me, you are so sick of late,
    So far from cheer and from your former state,
    That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,
    Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must:
    For women's fear and love holds quantity;
    In neither aught, or in extremity.
    Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know;
    And as my love is sized, my fear is so:
    Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;
    Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.

    PLAYER KING

    'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too;
    My operant powers their functions leave to do:
    And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
    Honour'd, beloved; and haply one as kind
    For husband shalt thou--

    PLAYER QUEEN

    O, confound the rest!
    Such love must needs be treason in my breast:
    In second husband let me be accurst!
    None wed the second but who kill'd the first.

    HAMLET

    [Aside] Wormwood, wormwood.

    PLAYER QUEEN

    The instances that second marriage move
    Are base respects of thrift, but none of love:
    A second time I kill my husband dead,
    When second husband kisses me in bed.

    PLAYER KING

    I do believe you think what now you speak;
    But what we do determine oft we break.
    Purpose is but the slave to memory,
    Of violent birth, but poor validity;
    Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree;
    But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be.
    Most necessary 'tis that we forget
    To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt:
    What to ourselves in passion we propose,
    The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
    The violence of either grief or joy
    Their own enactures with themselves destroy:
    Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;
    Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.
    This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange
    That even our loves should with our fortunes change;
    For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,
    Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.
    The great man down, you mark his favourite flies;
    The poor advanced makes friends of enemies.
    And hitherto doth love on fortune tend;
    For who not needs shall never lack a friend,
    And who in want a hollow friend doth try,
    Directly seasons him his enemy.
    But, orderly to end where I begun,
    Our wills and fates do so contrary run
    That our devices still are overthrown;
    Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own:
    So think thou wilt no second husband wed;
    But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.

    PLAYER QUEEN

    Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light!
    Sport and repose lock from me day and night!
    To desperation turn my trust and hope!
    An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope!
    Each opposite that blanks the face of joy
    Meet what I would have well and it destroy!
    Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,
    If, once a widow, ever I be wife!

    HAMLET

    If she should break it now!

    PLAYER KING

    'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile;
    My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile
    The tedious day with sleep.

    SLEEPS

    PLAYER QUEEN

    Sleep rock thy brain,
    And never come mischance between us twain!

    EXIT

    HAMLET

    Madam, how like you this play?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    The lady protests too much, methinks.

    HAMLET

    O, but she'll keep her word.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't?

    HAMLET

    No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence
    i' the world.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    What do you call the play?

    HAMLET

    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 o'
    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.

    OPHELIA

    You are as good as a chorus, my lord.

    HAMLET

    I could interpret between you and your love, if I
    could see the puppets dallying.

    OPHELIA

    You are keen, my lord, you are keen.

    HAMLET

    It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.

    OPHELIA

    Still better, and worse.

    HAMLET

    So you must take your husbands. Begin, murderer;
    pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come:
    'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.'

    LUCIANUS

    Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing;
    Confederate season, else no creature seeing;
    Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,
    With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
    Thy natural magic and dire property,
    On wholesome life usurp immediately.
    
    Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears

    HAMLET

    He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His
    name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and writ in
    choice Italian: you shall see anon how the murderer
    gets the love of Gonzago's wife.

    OPHELIA

    The king rises.

    HAMLET

    What, frighted with false fire!

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    How fares my lord?

    LORD POLONIUS

    Give o'er the play.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Give me some light: away!

    ALL

    Lights, lights, lights!

    EXEUNT ALL BUT HAMLET AND HORATIO

    HAMLET

    Why, let the stricken deer go weep,
    The hart ungalled play;
    For some must watch, while some must sleep:
    So 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?

    HORATIO

    Half a share.

    HAMLET

    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--pajock.

    HORATIO

    You might have rhymed.

    HAMLET

    O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a
    thousand pound. Didst perceive?

    HORATIO

    Very well, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Upon the talk of the poisoning?

    HORATIO

    I did very well note him.

    HAMLET

    Ah, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders!
    For if the king like not the comedy,
    Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy.
    Come, some music!

    RE-ENTER ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    GUILDENSTERN

    Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.

    HAMLET

    Sir, a whole history.

    GUILDENSTERN

    The king, sir,--

    HAMLET

    Ay, sir, what of him?

    GUILDENSTERN

    Is in his retirement marvellous distempered.

    HAMLET

    With drink, sir?

    GUILDENSTERN

    No, my lord, rather with choler.

    HAMLET

    Your wisdom should show itself more richer to
    signify this to his doctor; for, for me to put him
    to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far
    more choler.

    GUILDENSTERN

    Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame and
    start not so wildly from my affair.

    HAMLET

    I am tame, sir: pronounce.

    GUILDENSTERN

    The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of
    spirit, hath sent me to you.

    HAMLET

    You are welcome.

    GUILDENSTERN

    Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right
    breed. If it shall please you to make me a
    wholesome answer, I will do your mother's
    commandment: if not, your pardon and my return
    shall be the end of my business.

    HAMLET

    Sir, I cannot.

    GUILDENSTERN

    What, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but,
    sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command;
    or, rather, as you say, my mother: therefore no
    more, but to the matter: my mother, you say,--

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Then thus she says; your behavior hath struck her
    into amazement and admiration.

    HAMLET

    O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But
    is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's
    admiration? Impart.

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    HAMLET

    We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have
    you any further trade with us?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    My lord, you once did love me.

    HAMLET

    So I do still, by these pickers and stealers.

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    HAMLET

    Sir, I lack advancement.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    How can that be, when you have the voice of the king
    himself for your succession in Denmark?

    HAMLET

    Ay, but sir, 'While the grass grows,'--the proverb
    is something musty.
    
    Re-enter Players with recorders
    O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw with
    you:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me,
    as if you would drive me into a toil?

    GUILDENSTERN

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

    HAMLET

    I do not well understand that. Will you play upon
    this pipe?

    GUILDENSTERN

    My lord, I cannot.

    HAMLET

    I pray you.

    GUILDENSTERN

    Believe me, I cannot.

    HAMLET

    I do beseech you.

    GUILDENSTERN

    I know no touch of it, my lord.

    HAMLET

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

    GUILDENSTERN

    But these cannot I command to any utterance of
    harmony; I have not the skill.

    HAMLET

    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 music,
    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, yet you
    cannot play upon me.

    ENTER POLONIUS

    God bless you, sir!

    LORD POLONIUS

    My lord, the queen would speak with you, and
    presently.

    HAMLET

    Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?

    LORD POLONIUS

    By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed.

    HAMLET

    Methinks it is like a weasel.

    LORD POLONIUS

    It is backed like a weasel.

    HAMLET

    Or like a whale?

    LORD POLONIUS

    Very like a whale.

    HAMLET

    Then I will come to my mother by and by. They fool
    me to the top of my bent. I will come by and by.

    LORD POLONIUS

    I will say so.

    HAMLET

    By and by is easily said.

    EXIT POLONIUS

    Leave me, friends.

    EXEUNT ALL BUT HAMLET

    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
    Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother.
    O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever
    The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom:
    Let me be cruel, not unnatural:
    I will speak daggers to her, but use none;
    My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites;
    How in my words soever she be shent,
    To give them seals never, my soul, consent!

    EXIT

  • SCENE III. A room in the castle.

    ENTER KING CLAUDIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, AND GUILDENSTERN

    KING CLAUDIUS

    I like him not, nor stands it safe with us
    To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;
    I your commission will forthwith dispatch,
    And he to England shall along with you:
    The terms of our estate may not endure
    Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow
    Out of his lunacies.

    GUILDENSTERN

    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.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    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 highest mount,
    To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things
    Are mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls,
    Each small annexment, petty consequence,
    Attends the boisterous ruin. Never alone
    Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;
    For we will fetters put upon this fear,
    Which now goes too free-footed.

    ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN

    We will haste us.

    EXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    ENTER POLONIUS

    LORD POLONIUS

    My lord, he's going to his mother's closet:
    Behind the arras I'll convey myself,
    To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home:
    And, as you said, and wisely was it said,
    'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,
    Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear
    The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege:
    I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,
    And tell you what I know.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Thanks, dear my lord.

    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
    Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,
    Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
    To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy
    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 murder'?
    That cannot be; since I am still possess'd
    Of those effects for which I did the murder,
    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 faults,
    To give in evidence. What then? what rests?
    Try what repentance can: what can it not?
    Yet what can it when one can not repent?
    O wretched state! O bosom black as death!
    O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,
    Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay!
    Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel,
    Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe!
    All may be well.

    RETIRES AND KNEELS

    ENTER HAMLET

    HAMLET

    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 revenged. That would be scann'd:
    A villain kills my father; and for that,
    I, his sole son, do this same villain send
    To heaven.
    O, 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 revenged,
    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 pleasure 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 physic but prolongs thy sickly days.

    EXIT

    KING CLAUDIUS

    [Rising] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
    Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

    EXIT

  • SCENE IV. The Queen’s closet.

    ENTER QUEEN GERTRUDE AND POLONIUS

    LORD POLONIUS

    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 sconce me even here.
    Pray you, be round with him.

    HAMLET

    [Within] Mother, mother, mother!

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    I'll warrant you,
    Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming.

    POLONIUS HIDES BEHIND THE ARRAS

    ENTER HAMLET

    HAMLET

    Now, mother, what's the matter?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.

    HAMLET

    Mother, you have my father much offended.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.

    HAMLET

    Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Why, how now, Hamlet!

    HAMLET

    What's the matter now?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Have you forgot me?

    HAMLET

    No, by the rood, not so:
    You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;
    And--would it were not so!--you are my mother.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

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

    HAMLET

    Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge;
    You go not till I set you up a glass
    Where you may see the inmost part of you.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?
    Help, help, ho!

    LORD POLONIUS

    [Behind] What, ho! help, help, help!

    HAMLET

    [Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!
    
    Makes a pass through the arras

    LORD POLONIUS

    [Behind] O, I am slain!
    
    Falls and dies

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    O me, what hast thou done?

    HAMLET

    Nay, I know not:
    Is it the king?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!

    HAMLET

    A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother,
    As kill a king, and marry with his brother.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    As kill a king!

    HAMLET

    Ay, lady, 'twas my word.

    LIFTS UP THE ARRAS AND DISCOVERS POLONIUS

    Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!
    I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune;
    Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.
    Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down,
    And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,
    If it be made of penetrable stuff,
    If damned custom have not brass'd it so
    That it is proof and bulwark against sense.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue
    In noise so rude against me?

    HAMLET

    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 GERTRUDE

    Ay me, what act,
    That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?

    HAMLET

    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,
    To give the world assurance of a man:
    This was your husband. Look you now, what follows:
    Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,
    Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?
    Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
    And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?
    You cannot call it love; for at your age
    The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
    And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment
    Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,
    Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense
    Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,
    Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd
    But it reserved some quantity of choice,
    To serve in such a difference. What devil was't
    That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?
    Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
    Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,
    Or but a sickly part of one true sense
    Could not so mope.
    O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,
    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 GERTRUDE

    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.

    HAMLET

    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 GERTRUDE

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

    HAMLET

    A murderer and a villain;
    A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
    Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;
    A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
    That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,
    And put it in his pocket!

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    No more!

    HAMLET

    A king of shreds and patches,--

    ENTER GHOST

    Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,
    You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Alas, he's mad!

    HAMLET

    Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
    That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by
    The important acting of your dread command? O, say!

    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.

    HAMLET

    How is it with you, lady?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    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?

    HAMLET

    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 GERTRUDE

    To whom do you speak this?

    HAMLET

    Do you see nothing there?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.

    HAMLET

    Nor did you nothing hear?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    No, nothing but ourselves.

    HAMLET

    Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!
    My father, in his habit as he lived!
    Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!

    EXIT GHOST

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    This the very coinage of your brain:
    This bodiless creation ecstasy
    Is very cunning in.

    HAMLET

    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 mattering unction to your soul,
    That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:
    It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
    Whilst 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 GERTRUDE

    O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.

    HAMLET

    O, throw away the worser part of it,
    And live the purer with the other half.
    Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed;
    Assume a virtue, if you have it not.
    That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,
    Of habits 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 [ ] 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 pleased it so,
    To punish me with this and this with me,
    That I must be their scourge and minister.
    I will bestow him, and will answer well
    The death I gave him. So, again, good night.
    I must be cruel, only to be kind:
    Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.
    One word more, good lady.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    What shall I do?

    HAMLET

    Not this, by no means, that I bid 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 GERTRUDE

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

    HAMLET

    I must to England; you know that?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Alack,
    I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on.

    HAMLET

    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 petard: and 't 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 the 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 SEVERALLY; HAMLET DRAGGING IN POLONIUS

  • SCENE I. A room in the castle.

    ENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, AND GUILDENSTERN

    KING CLAUDIUS

    There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves:
    You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them.
    Where is your son?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Bestow this place on us a little while.

    EXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night!

    KING CLAUDIUS

    What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    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 CLAUDIUS

    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.
    Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd?
    It will be laid to us, whose providence
    Should have kept short, restrain'd and out of haunt,
    This mad young man: but so much was our love,
    We would not understand what was most fit;
    But, like the owner of a foul disease,
    To keep it from divulging, let it feed
    Even on the pith of Life. Where is he gone?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    To draw apart the body he hath kill'd:
    O'er whom his very madness, like some ore
    Among a mineral of metals base,
    Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    O Gertrude, come away!
    The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch,
    But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed
    We must, with all our majesty and skill,
    Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern!

    RE-ENTER ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    Friends both, go join you with some further aid:
    Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,
    And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him:
    Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body
    Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this.

    EXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends;
    And let them know, both what we mean to do,
    And what's untimely done. O, come away!
    My soul is full of discord and dismay.

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE II. Another room in the castle.

    ENTER HAMLET

    HAMLET

    Safely stowed.

    ROSENCRANTZ: GUILDENSTERN:

    [Within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!

    HAMLET

    What noise? who calls on Hamlet?
    O, here they come.

    ENTER ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    ROSENCRANTZ

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

    HAMLET

    Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence
    And bear it to the chapel.

    HAMLET

    Do not believe it.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Believe what?

    HAMLET

    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?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Take you me for a sponge, my lord?

    HAMLET

    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, 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.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    I understand you not, my lord.

    HAMLET

    I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a
    foolish ear.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go
    with us to the king.

    HAMLET

    The body is with the king, but the king is not with
    the body. The king is a thing--

    GUILDENSTERN

    A thing, my lord!

    HAMLET

    Of nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after.

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE III. Another room in the castle.

    ENTER KING CLAUDIUS, ATTENDED

    KING CLAUDIUS

    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 loved 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 even,
    This sudden sending him away must seem
    Deliberate pause: diseases desperate grown
    By desperate appliance are relieved,
    Or not at all.

    ENTER ROSENCRANTZ

    How now! what hath befall'n?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord,
    We cannot get from him.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    But where is he?

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Bring him before us.

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord.

    ENTER HAMLET AND GUILDENSTERN

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?

    HAMLET

    At supper.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    At supper! where?

    HAMLET

    Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain
    convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your
    worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all
    creatures else to fat us, and we 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 CLAUDIUS

    Alas, alas!

    HAMLET

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

    KING CLAUDIUS

    What dost you mean by this?

    HAMLET

    Nothing but to show you how a king may go a
    progress through the guts of a beggar.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Where is Polonius?

    HAMLET

    In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger
    find him not there, seek him i' 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 CLAUDIUS

    Go seek him there.
    
    To some Attendants

    HAMLET

    He will stay till ye come.
    
    Exeunt Attendants

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,--
    Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve
    For that which thou hast done,--must send thee 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.

    HAMLET

    For England!

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Ay, Hamlet.

    HAMLET

    Good.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.

    HAMLET

    I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for
    England! Farewell, dear mother.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Thy loving father, Hamlet.

    HAMLET

    My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man
    and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England!

    EXIT

    KING CLAUDIUS

    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 ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN

    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 mayst not coldly set
    Our sovereign process; which imports at full,
    By letters congruing to that effect,
    The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
    For like the hectic in my blood he rages,
    And thou must cure me: till I know 'tis done,
    Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun.

    EXIT

  • SCENE IV. A plain in Denmark.

    ENTER FORTINBRAS, A CAPTAIN, AND SOLDIERS, MARCHING

    PRINCE FORTINBRAS

    Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king;
    Tell him that, by his licence, Fortinbras
    Craves the conveyance of a promised march
    Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous.
    If that his majesty would aught with us,
    We shall express our duty in his eye;
    And let him know so.

    CAPTAIN

    I will do't, my lord.

    PRINCE FORTINBRAS

    Go softly on.

    EXEUNT FORTINBRAS AND SOLDIERS

    ENTER HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, AND OTHERS

    HAMLET

    Good sir, whose powers are these?

    CAPTAIN

    They are of Norway, sir.

    HAMLET

    How purposed, sir, I pray you?

    CAPTAIN

    Against some part of Poland.

    HAMLET

    Who commands them, sir?

    CAPTAIN

    The nephews to old Norway, Fortinbras.

    HAMLET

    Goes it against the main of Poland, sir,
    Or for some frontier?

    CAPTAIN

    Truly to speak, and with no addition,
    We go to gain a little patch of ground
    That hath in it no profit but the name.
    To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;
    Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole
    A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.

    HAMLET

    Why, then the Polack never will defend it.

    CAPTAIN

    Yes, it is already garrison'd.

    HAMLET

    Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats
    Will not debate the question of this straw:
    This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace,
    That inward breaks, and shows no cause without
    Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir.

    CAPTAIN

    God be wi' you, sir.

    EXIT

    ROSENCRANTZ

    Wilt please you go, my lord?

    HAMLET

    I'll be with you straight go a little before.

    EXEUNT ALL EXCEPT HAMLET

    How all occasions do inform against me,
    And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
    If his chief good and market of his time
    Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
    Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,
    Looking before and after, gave us not
    That capability and god-like reason
    To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be
    Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
    Of thinking too precisely on the event,
    A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom
    And ever three parts coward, I do not know
    Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;'
    Sith I have cause and will and strength and means
    To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me:
    Witness this army of such mass and charge
    Led by a delicate and tender prince,
    Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'd
    Makes mouths at the invisible event,
    Exposing what is mortal and unsure
    To all that fortune, death and danger dare,
    Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great
    Is not to stir without great argument,
    But greatly to find quarrel in a straw
    When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,
    That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
    Excitements of my reason and my blood,
    And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see
    The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
    That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,
    Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot
    Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
    Which is not tomb enough and continent
    To hide the slain? O, from this time forth,
    My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

    EXIT

  • SCENE V. Elsinore. A room in the castle.

    ENTER QUEEN GERTRUDE, HORATIO, AND A GENTLEMAN

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    I will not speak with her.

    GENTLEMAN

    She is importunate, indeed distract:
    Her mood will needs be pitied.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    What would she have?

    GENTLEMAN

    She speaks much of her father; says she hears
    There's tricks i' the world; and hems, and beats her heart;
    Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,
    That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing,
    Yet the unshaped use of it doth move
    The hearers to collection; they aim at it,
    And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;
    Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures
    yield them,
    Indeed would make one think there might be thought,
    Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.

    HORATIO

    'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew
    Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Let her come in.

    EXIT HORATIO

    To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,
    Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss:
    So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
    It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

    RE-ENTER HORATIO, WITH OPHELIA

    OPHELIA

    Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    How now, Ophelia!

    OPHELIA

    [Sings]
    How should I your true love know
    From another one?
    By his cockle hat and staff,
    And his sandal shoon.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?

    OPHELIA

    Say you? nay, pray you, mark.
    
    Sings
    He is dead and gone, lady,
    He is dead and gone;
    At his head a grass-green turf,
    At his heels a stone.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Nay, but, Ophelia,--

    OPHELIA

    Pray you, mark.
    
    [Sings]
    White his shroud as the mountain snow,--

    ENTER KING CLAUDIUS

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Alas, look here, my lord.

    OPHELIA

    [Sings]
    Larded with sweet flowers
    Which bewept to the grave did go
    With true-love showers.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    How do you, pretty lady?

    OPHELIA

    Well, God 'ild you! They say the owl was a baker's
    daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not
    what we may be. God be at your table!

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Conceit upon her father.

    OPHELIA

    Pray you, let's have no words of this; but when they
    ask you what it means, say you this:
    
    [Sings]
    To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,
    All in the morning betime,
    And I a maid at your window,
    To be your Valentine.
    Then up he rose, and donn'd his clothes,
    And dupp'd the chamber-door;
    Let in the maid, that out a maid
    Never departed more.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Pretty Ophelia!

    OPHELIA

    Indeed, la, without an oath, I'll make an end on't:
    
    [Sings]
    By Gis and by Saint Charity,
    Alack, and fie for shame!
    Young men will do't, if they come to't;
    By cock, they are to blame.
    Quoth she, before you tumbled me,
    You promised me to wed.
    So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,
    An thou hadst not come to my bed.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    How long hath she been thus?

    OPHELIA

    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 CLAUDIUS

    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. 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,
    Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers,
    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.

    A NOISE WITHIN

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Alack, what noise is this?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.

    ENTER ANOTHER GENTLEMAN

    What is the matter?

    GENTLEMAN

    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 GERTRUDE

    How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!
    O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!

    KING CLAUDIUS

    The doors are broke.
    
    Noise within

    ENTER LAERTES ARMED, DANES FOLLOWING

    LAERTES

    Where is this king? Sirs, stand you all without.

    DANES

    No, let's come in.

    LAERTES

    I pray you, give me leave.

    DANES

    We will, we will.
    
    They retire without the door

    LAERTES

    I thank you: keep the door. O thou vile king,
    Give me my father!

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Calmly, good Laertes.

    LAERTES

    That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard,
    Cries cuckold to my father, brands the harlot
    Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow
    Of my true mother.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    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 incensed. Let him go, Gertrude.
    Speak, man.

    LAERTES

    Where is my father?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Dead.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    But not by him.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Let him demand his fill.

    LAERTES

    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 revenged
    Most thoroughly for my father.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Who shall stay you?

    LAERTES

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

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Good Laertes,
    If you desire to know the certainty
    Of your dear father's death, is't writ in your revenge,
    That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe,
    Winner and loser?

    LAERTES

    None but his enemies.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Will you know them then?

    LAERTES

    To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms;
    And like the kind life-rendering pelican,
    Repast them with my blood.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Why, now you speak
    Like a good child and a true gentleman.
    That I am guiltless of your father's death,
    And am most sensible in grief for it,
    It shall as level to your judgment pierce
    As day does to your eye.

    DANES
    [Within] Let her come in.

    LAERTES

    How now! what noise is that?

    RE-ENTER OPHELIA

    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 by 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 moral 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.

    OPHELIA

    [Sings]
    They bore him barefaced on the bier;
    Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny;
    And in his grave rain'd many a tear:--
    Fare you well, my dove!

    LAERTES

    Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,
    It could not move thus.

    OPHELIA

    [Sings]
    You must sing a-down a-down,
    An you call him a-down-a.
    O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false
    steward, that stole his master's daughter.

    LAERTES

    This nothing's more than matter.

    OPHELIA

    There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray,
    love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts.

    LAERTES

    A document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted.

    OPHELIA

    There's fennel for you, and columbines: there's rue
    for you; and here's some for me: we may call it
    herb-grace o' Sundays: O you must 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,--
    
    [Sings]
    For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.

    LAERTES

    Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself,
    She turns to favour and to prettiness.

    OPHELIA

    [Sings]
    And will he not come again?
    And will he not come again?
    No, no, he is dead:
    Go to thy death-bed:
    He never will come again.
    His beard was as white as snow,
    All flaxen was his poll:
    He is gone, he is gone,
    And we cast away moan:
    God ha' mercy on his soul!
    And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God be wi' ye.

    EXIT

    LAERTES

    Do you see this, O God?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    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 can 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.

    LAERTES

    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 CLAUDIUS

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

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE VI. Another room in the castle.

    ENTER HORATIO AND A SERVANT

    HORATIO

    What are they that would speak with me?

    SERVANT

    Sailors, sir: they say they have letters for you.

    HORATIO

    Let them come in.

    EXIT SERVANT

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

    ENTER SAILORS
    FIRST SAILOR

    God bless you, sir.

    HORATIO

    Let him bless thee too.

    First Sailor

    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.

    HORATIO

    [Reads] 'Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked
    this, give these fellows some means to the king:
    they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old
    at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment 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 speed as thou wouldst 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 fellows 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 make 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 castle.

    ENTER KING CLAUDIUS AND LAERTES

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Now must your conscience my acquaintance 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
    Pursued my life.

    LAERTES

    It well appears: but tell me
    Why you proceeded not against these feats,
    So crimeful and so capital in nature,
    As by your safety, wisdom, all things else,
    You mainly were stirr'd up.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    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's 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,
    Would, 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.

    LAERTES

    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 CLAUDIUS

    Break not your sleeps for that: you must not think
    That we are made of stuff so flat and dull
    That we can let our beard be shook with danger
    And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more:
    I loved your father, and we love ourself;
    And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine--

    ENTER A MESSENGER

    MESSENGER

    Letters, my lord, from Hamlet:
    This to your majesty; this to the queen.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    From Hamlet! who brought them?

    MESSENGER

    Sailors, my lord, they say; I saw them not:
    They were given me by Claudio; he received them
    Of him that brought them.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Laertes, you shall hear them. Leave us.

    EXIT MESSENGER

    READS

    'High and mighty, You shall know I am set naked on
    your kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to see
    your kingly eyes: when I shall, first asking your
    pardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my sudden
    and more strange return. 'HAMLET.'
    What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?
    Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?

    LAERTES

    Know you the hand?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    'Tis Hamlets character. 'Naked!
    And in a postscript here, he says 'alone.'
    Can you advise me?

    LAERTES

    I'm lost in it, my lord. But let him come;
    It warms the very sickness in my heart,
    That I shall live and tell him to his teeth,
    'Thus didest thou.'

    KING CLAUDIUS

    If it be so, Laertes--
    As how should it be so? how otherwise?--
    Will you be ruled by me?

    LAERTES

    Ay, my lord;
    So you will not o'errule me to a peace.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    To thine own peace. If he be now return'd,
    As checking at his voyage, and that he means
    No more to undertake it, I will work him
    To an exploit, now ripe in my device,
    Under the which he shall not choose but fall:
    And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe,
    But even his mother shall uncharge the practise
    And call it accident.

    LAERTES

    My lord, I will be ruled;
    The rather, if you could devise it so
    That I might be the organ.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    It falls right.
    You have been talk'd of since your travel much,
    And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality
    Wherein, they say, you shine: your sum of parts
    Did not together pluck such envy from him
    As did that one, and that, in my regard,
    Of the unworthiest siege.

    LAERTES

    What part is that, my lord?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    A very riband in the cap of youth,
    Yet needful too; for youth no less becomes
    The light and careless livery that it wears
    Than settled age his sables and his weeds,
    Importing health and graveness. Two months since,
    Here was a gentleman of Normandy:--
    I've seen myself, and served against, the French,
    And they can well on horseback: but this gallant
    Had witchcraft in't; he grew unto his seat;
    And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,
    As he had been incorpsed and demi-natured
    With the brave beast: so far he topp'd my thought,
    That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,
    Come short of what he did.

    LAERTES

    A Norman was't?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    A Norman.

    LAERTES

    Upon my life, Lamond.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    The very same.

    LAERTES

    I know him well: he is the brooch indeed
    And gem of all the nation.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    He made confession of you,
    And gave you such a masterly report
    For art and exercise in your defence
    And for your rapier most especially,
    That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeed,
    If one could match you: the scrimers of their nation,
    He swore, had had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
    If you opposed them. Sir, this report of his
    Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy
    That he could nothing do but wish and beg
    Your sudden coming o'er, to play with him.
    Now, out of this,--

    LAERTES

    What out of this, my lord?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Laertes, was your father dear to you?
    Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
    A face without a heart?

    LAERTES

    Why ask you this?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Not that I think you did not love your father;
    But that I know love is begun by time;
    And that I see, in passages of proof,
    Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.
    There lives within the very flame of love
    A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it;
    And nothing is at a like goodness still;
    For goodness, growing to a plurisy,
    Dies in his own too much: that we would do
    We should do when we would; for this 'would' changes
    And hath abatements and delays as many
    As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;
    And then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh,
    That hurts by easing. But, to the quick o' the ulcer:--
    Hamlet comes back: what would you undertake,
    To show yourself your father's son in deed
    More than in words?

    LAERTES

    To cut his throat i' the church.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize;
    Revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes,
    Will you do this, keep close within your chamber.
    Hamlet return'd shall know you are come home:
    We'll put on those shall praise your excellence
    And set a double varnish on the fame
    The Frenchman gave you, bring you in fine together
    And wager on your heads: he, being remiss,
    Most generous and free from all contriving,
    Will not peruse the foils; so that, with ease,
    Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
    A sword unbated, and in a pass of practise
    Requite him for your father.

    LAERTES

    I will do't:
    And, for that purpose, I'll anoint my sword.
    I bought an unction of a mountebank,
    So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,
    Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,
    Collected from all simples that have virtue
    Under the moon, can save the thing from death
    That is but scratch'd withal: I'll touch my point
    With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,
    It may be death.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Let's further think of this;
    Weigh what convenience both of time and means
    May fit us to our shape: if this should fail,
    And that our drift look through our bad performance,
    'Twere better not assay'd: therefore this project
    Should have a back or second, that might hold,
    If this should blast in proof. Soft! let me see:
    We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings: I ha't.
    When in your motion you are hot and dry--
    As make your bouts more violent to that end--
    And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepared him
    A chalice for the nonce, whereon but sipping,
    If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,
    Our purpose may hold there.

    ENTER QUEEN GERTRUDE

    How now, sweet queen!

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    One woe doth tread upon another's heel,
    So fast they follow; your sister's drown'd, Laertes.

    LAERTES

    Drown'd! O, where?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    There is a willow grows aslant a brook,
    That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
    There with fantastic garlands did she come
    Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples
    That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
    But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them:
    There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
    Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
    When down her weedy trophies and herself
    Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;
    And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:
    Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;
    As one incapable of her own distress,
    Or like a creature native and indued
    Unto that element: but long it could not be
    Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
    Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
    To muddy death.

    LAERTES

    Alas, then, she is drown'd?

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Drown'd, drown'd.

    LAERTES

    Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,
    And therefore I forbid my tears: but yet
    It is our trick; nature her custom holds,
    Let shame say what it will: when these are gone,
    The woman will be out. Adieu, my lord:
    I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze,
    But that this folly douts it.

    EXIT

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Let's follow, Gertrude:
    How much I had to do to calm his rage!
    Now fear I this will give it start again;
    Therefore let's follow.

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE I. A churchyard.

    ENTER TWO CLOWNS, WITH SPADES, &C.

    FIRST CLOWN

    Is she to be buried in Christian burial that
    wilfully seeks her own salvation?

    SECOND CLOWN

    I tell thee she is: and therefore make her grave
    straight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds it
    Christian burial.

    FIRST CLOWN

    How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her
    own defence?

    SECOND CLOWN

    Why, 'tis found so.

    FIRST CLOWN

    It must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. For
    here lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly,
    it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: it
    is, to act, to do, to perform: argal, she drowned
    herself wittingly.

    SECOND CLOWN

    Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,--

    FIRST CLOWN

    Give me leave. Here lies the water; good: here
    stands the man; good; if the man go to this water,
    and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he
    goes,--mark you that; but if the water come to him
    and drown him, he drowns not himself: argal, he
    that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.

    SECOND CLOWN

    But is this law?

    FIRST CLOWN

    Ay, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.

    SECOND CLOWN

    Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been
    a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'
    Christian burial.

    FIRST CLOWN

    Why, there thou say'st: and the more pity that
    great folk should have countenance in this world to
    drown or hang themselves, more than their even
    Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient
    gentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:
    they hold up Adam's profession.

    SECOND CLOWN

    Was he a gentleman?

    FIRST CLOWN

    He was the first that ever bore arms.

    SECOND CLOWN

    Why, he had none.

    FIRST CLOWN

    What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the
    Scripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:'
    could he dig without arms? I'll put another
    question to thee: if thou answerest me not to the
    purpose, confess thyself--

    SECOND CLOWN

    Go to.

    FIRST CLOWN

    What is he that builds stronger than either the
    mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?

    SECOND CLOWN

    The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a
    thousand tenants.

    FIRST CLOWN

    I like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallows
    does well; but how does it well? it does well to
    those that do in: now thou dost ill to say the
    gallows is built stronger than the church: argal,
    the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.

    SECOND CLOWN

    'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or
    a carpenter?'

    FIRST CLOWN

    Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.

    SECOND CLOWN

    Marry, now I can tell.

    FIRST CLOWN

    To't.

    SECOND CLOWN

    Mass, I cannot tell.

    ENTER HAMLET AND HORATIO, AT A DISTANCE

    FIRST CLOWN

    Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull
    ass will not mend his pace with beating; and, when
    you are asked this question next, say 'a
    grave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last till
    doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me a
    stoup of liquor.

    EXIT SECOND CLOWN

    He digs and sings
    In youth, when I did love, did love,
    Methought it was very sweet,
    To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,
    O, methought, there was nothing meet.

    HAMLET

    Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he
    sings at grave-making?

    HORATIO

    Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.

    HAMLET

    'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath
    the daintier sense.

    FIRST CLOWN

    [Sings]
    But age, with his stealing steps,
    Hath claw'd me in his clutch,
    And hath shipped me intil the land,
    As if I had never been such.
    
    Throws up a skull

    HAMLET

    That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:
    how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were
    Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! It
    might be the pate of a politician, which this ass
    now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,
    might it not?

    HORATIO

    It might, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Or of a courtier; which could say 'Good morrow,
    sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?' This might
    be my lord such-a-one, that praised my lord
    such-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?

    HORATIO

    Ay, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Why, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, and
    knocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade:
    here's fine revolution, an we had the trick to
    see't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding,
    but to play at loggats with 'em? mine ache to think on't.

    FIRST CLOWN

    [Sings]
    A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,
    For and a shrouding sheet:
    O, a pit of clay for to be made
    For such a guest is meet.

    THROWS UP ANOTHER SKULL

    HAMLET

    There's another: why may not that be the skull of a
    lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets,
    his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does he
    suffer this rude knave now to knock him about the
    sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of
    his action of battery? Hum! This fellow might be
    in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,
    his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,
    his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, and
    the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine
    pate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch him
    no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than
    the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The
    very conveyances of his lands will hardly lie in
    this box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?

    HORATIO

    Not a jot more, my lord.

    HAMLET

    Is not parchment made of sheepskins?

    HORATIO

    Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.

    HAMLET

    They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance
    in that. I will speak to this fellow. Whose
    grave's this, sirrah?

    FIRST CLOWN

    Mine, sir.

    [Sings]
    O, a pit of clay for to be made
    For such a guest is meet.

    HAMLET

    I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.

    FIRST CLOWN

    You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not
    yours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.

    HAMLET

    'Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine:
    'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.

    FIRST CLOWN

    'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away gain, from me to
    you.

    HAMLET

    What man dost thou dig it for?

    FIRST CLOWN

    For no man, sir.

    HAMLET

    What woman, then?

    FIRST CLOWN

    For none, neither.

    HAMLET

    Who is to be buried in't?

    FIRST CLOWN

    One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.

    HAMLET

    How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the
    card, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,
    Horatio, these three years I have taken a note of
    it; the age is grown so picked that the toe of the
    peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he
    gaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been a
    grave-maker?

    FIRST CLOWN

    Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day
    that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.

    HAMLET

    How long is that since?

    FIRST CLOWN

    Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: it
    was the very day that young Hamlet was born; he that
    is mad, and sent into England.

    HAMLET

    Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?

    FIRST CLOWN

    Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits
    there; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.

    HAMLET

    Why?

    FIRST CLOWN

    'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the men
    are as mad as he.

    HAMLET

    How came he mad?

    FIRST CLOWN

    Very strangely, they say.

    HAMLET

    How strangely?

    FIRST CLOWN

    Faith, e'en with losing his wits.

    HAMLET

    Upon what ground?

    FIRST CLOWN

    Why, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, man
    and boy, thirty years.

    HAMLET

    How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?

    FIRST CLOWN

    I' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as we
    have many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarce
    hold the laying in--he will last you some eight year
    or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.

    HAMLET

    Why he more than another?

    FIRST CLOWN

    Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that
    he will keep out water a great while; and your water
    is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.
    Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earth
    three and twenty years.

    HAMLET

    Whose was it?

    FIRST CLOWN

    A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?

    HAMLET

    Nay, I know not.

    FIRST CLOWN

    A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured a
    flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,
    sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.

    HAMLET

    This?

    FIRST CLOWN

    E'en that.

    HAMLET

    Let me see.
    
    Takes the skull
    Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
    of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
    borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
    abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
    it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
    not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
    gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
    that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
    now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
    Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let
    her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
    come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell
    me one thing.

    HORATIO

    What's that, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'
    the earth?

    HORATIO

    E'en so.

    HAMLET

    And smelt so? pah!
    
    Puts down the skull

    HORATIO

    E'en so, my lord.

    HAMLET

    To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may
    not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,
    till he find it stopping a bung-hole?

    HORATIO

    'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.

    HAMLET

    No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with
    modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: as
    thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,
    Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of
    earth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto he
    was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?
    Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,
    Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:
    O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
    Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!
    But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.

    ENTER PRIEST, &C, IN PROCESSION WITH THE CORPSE OF OPHELIA; LAERTES AND MOURNERS FOLLOWING; KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, THEIR TRAINS, &C.

    The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow?
    And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken
    The corse they follow did with desperate hand
    Fordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.
    Couch we awhile, and mark.

    RETIRING WITH HORATIO

    LAERTES

    What ceremony else?

    HAMLET

    That is Laertes,
    A very noble youth: mark.

    LAERTES

    What ceremony else?

    FIRST PRIEST

    Her obsequies have been as far enlarged
    As we have warrantise: her death was doubtful;
    And, but that great command o'ersways the order,
    She should in ground unsanctified have lodged
    Till the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,
    Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;
    Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,
    Her maiden strewments and the bringing home
    Of bell and burial.

    LAERTES

    Must there no more be done?

    FIRST PRIEST

    No more be done:
    We should profane the service of the dead
    To sing a requiem and such rest to her
    As to peace-parted souls.

    LAERTES

    Lay her i' the earth:
    And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
    May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,
    A ministering angel shall my sister be,
    When thou liest howling.

    HAMLET

    What, the fair Ophelia!

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Sweets to the sweet: farewell!

    [scattering flowers]

    I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;
    I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,
    And not have strew'd thy grave.

    LAERTES

    O, treble woe
    Fall ten times treble on that cursed head,
    Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense
    Deprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,
    Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
    
    [Leaps into the grave]
    
    Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,
    Till of this flat a mountain you have made,
    To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish head
    Of blue Olympus.

    HAMLET

    [Advancing] What is he whose grief
    Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow
    Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand
    Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
    Hamlet the Dane.
    
    [Leaps into the grave]

    LAERTES

    The devil take thy soul!
    
    [Grappling with him]

    HAMLET

    Thou pray'st not well.
    I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;
    For, though I am not splenitive and rash,
    Yet have I something in me dangerous,
    Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Pluck them asunder.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Hamlet, Hamlet!

    ALL

    Gentlemen,--

    HORATIO

    Good my lord, be quiet.
    
    THE ATTENDANTS PART THEM, AND THEY COME OUT OF THE GRAVE

    HAMLET

    Why I will fight with him upon this theme
    Until my eyelids will no longer wag.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    O my son, what theme?

    HAMLET

    I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers
    Could not, with all their quantity of love,
    Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    O, he is mad, Laertes.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    For love of God, forbear him.

    HAMLET

    'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:
    Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?
    Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?
    I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?
    To outface me with leaping in her grave?
    Be buried quick with her, and so will I:
    And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
    Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
    Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
    Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
    I'll rant as well as thou.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    This is mere madness:
    And thus awhile the fit will work on him;
    Anon, as patient as the female dove,
    When that her golden couplets are disclosed,
    His silence will sit drooping.

    HAMLET

    Hear you, sir;
    What is the reason that you use me thus?
    I loved you ever: but it is no matter;
    Let Hercules himself do what he may,
    The cat will mew and dog will have his day.

    EXIT

    KING CLAUDIUS

    I pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.

    EXIT HORATIO

    TO LAERTES

    Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;
    We'll put the matter to the present push.
    Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.
    This grave shall have a living monument:
    An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;
    Till then, in patience our proceeding be.

    EXEUNT

  • SCENE II. A hall in the castle.

    ENTER HAMLET AND HORATIO

    HAMLET

    So much for this, sir: now shall you see the other;
    You do remember all the circumstance?

    HORATIO

    Remember it, my lord?

    HAMLET

    Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,
    That would not let me sleep: methought I lay
    Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,
    And praised be rashness for it, let us know,
    Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,
    When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach us
    There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
    Rough-hew them how we will,--

    HORATIO

    That is most certain.

    HAMLET

    Up from my cabin,
    My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the dark
    Groped I to find out them; had my desire.
    Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrew
    To mine own room again; making so bold,
    My fears forgetting manners, to unseal
    Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio,--
    O royal knavery!--an exact command,
    Larded with many several sorts of reasons
    Importing Denmark's health and England's too,
    With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,
    That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,
    No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,
    My head should be struck off.

    HORATIO

    Is't possible?

    HAMLET

    Here's the commission: read it at more leisure.
    But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?

    HORATIO

    I beseech you.

    HAMLET

    Being thus be-netted round with villanies,--
    Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,
    They had begun the play--I sat me down,
    Devised a new commission, wrote it fair:
    I once did hold it, as our statists do,
    A baseness to write fair and labour'd much
    How to forget that learning, but, sir, now
    It did me yeoman's service: wilt thou know
    The effect of what I wrote?

    HORATIO

    Ay, good my lord.

    HAMLET

    An earnest conjuration from the king,
    As England was his faithful tributary,
    As love between them like the palm might flourish,
    As peace should stiff her wheaten garland wear
    And stand a comma 'tween their amities,
    And many such-like 'As'es of great charge,
    That, on the view and knowing of these contents,
    Without debatement further, more or less,
    He should the bearers put to sudden death,
    Not shriving-time allow'd.

    HORATIO

    How was this seal'd?

    HAMLET

    Why, even in that was heaven ordinant.
    I had my father's signet in my purse,
    Which was the model of that Danish seal;
    Folded the writ up in form of the other,
    Subscribed it, gave't the impression, placed it safely,
    The changeling never known. Now, the next day
    Was our sea-fight; and what to this was sequent
    Thou know'st already.

    HORATIO

    So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.

    HAMLET

    Why, man, they did make love to this employment;
    They are not near my conscience; their defeat
    Does by their own insinuation grow:
    'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes
    Between the pass and fell incensed points
    Of mighty opposites.

    HORATIO

    Why, what a king is this!

    HAMLET

    Does it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon--
    He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother,
    Popp'd in between the election and my hopes,
    Thrown out his angle for my proper life,
    And with such cozenage--is't not perfect conscience,
    To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd,
    To let this canker of our nature come
    In further evil?

    HORATIO

    It must be shortly known to him from England
    What is the issue of the business there.

    HAMLET

    It will be short: the interim is mine;
    And a man's life's no more than to say 'One.'
    But I am very sorry, good Horatio,
    That to Laertes I forgot myself;
    For, by the image of my cause, I see
    The portraiture of his: I'll court his favours.
    But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me
    Into a towering passion.

    HORATIO

    Peace! who comes here?

    ENTER OSRIC

    OSRIC

    Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.

    HAMLET

    I humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this water-fly?

    HORATIO

    No, my good lord.

    HAMLET

    Thy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice to
    know him. He hath much land, and fertile: let a
    beast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at
    the king's mess: 'tis a chough; but, as I say,
    spacious in the possession of dirt.

    OSRIC

    Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I
    should impart a thing to you from his majesty.

    HAMLET

    I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of
    spirit. Put your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.

    OSRIC

    I thank your lordship, it is very hot.

    HAMLET

    No, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind is
    northerly.

    OSRIC

    It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.

    HAMLET

    But yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for my
    complexion.

    OSRIC

    Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,--as
    'twere,--I cannot tell how. But, my lord, his
    majesty bade me signify to you that he has laid a
    great wager on your head: sir, this is the matter,--

    HAMLET

    I beseech you, remember--
    
    HAMLET moves him to put on his hat

    OSRIC

    Nay, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith.
    Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believe
    me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent
    differences, of very soft society and great showing:
    indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or
    calendar of gentry, for you shall find in him the
    continent of what part a gentleman would see.

    HAMLET

    Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you;
    though, I know, to divide him inventorially would
    dizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw
    neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the
    verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of
    great article; and his infusion of such dearth and
    rareness, as, to make true diction of him, his
    semblable is his mirror; and who else would trace
    him, his umbrage, nothing more.

    OSRIC

    Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.

    HAMLET

    The concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the gentleman
    in our more rawer breath?

    OSRIC

    Sir?

    HORATIO

    Is't not possible to understand in another tongue?
    You will do't, sir, really.

    HAMLET

    What imports the nomination of this gentleman?

    OSRIC

    Of Laertes?

    HORATIO

    His purse is empty already; all's golden words are spent.

    HAMLET

    Of him, sir.

    OSRIC

    I know you are not ignorant--

    HAMLET

    I would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did,
    it would not much approve me. Well, sir?

    OSRIC

    You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is--

    HAMLET

    I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with
    him in excellence; but, to know a man well, were to
    know himself.

    OSRIC

    I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation
    laid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.

    HAMLET

    What's his weapon?

    OSRIC

    Rapier and dagger.

    HAMLET

    That's two of his weapons: but, well.

    OSRIC

    The king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary
    horses: against the which he has imponed, as I take
    it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their
    assigns, as girdle, hangers, and so: three of the
    carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very
    responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages,
    and of very liberal conceit.

    HAMLET

    What call you the carriages?

    HORATIO

    I knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done.

    OSRIC

    The carriages, sir, are the hangers.

    HAMLET

    The phrase would be more german to the matter, if we
    could carry cannon by our sides: I would it might
    be hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horses
    against six French swords, their assigns, and three
    liberal-conceited carriages; that's the French bet
    against the Danish. Why is this 'imponed,' as you call it?

    OSRIC

    The king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passes
    between yourself and him, he shall not exceed you
    three hits: he hath laid on twelve for nine; and it
    would come to immediate trial, if your lordship
    would vouchsafe the answer.

    HAMLET

    How if I answer 'no'?

    OSRIC

    I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.

    HAMLET

    Sir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please his
    majesty, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; let
    the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the
    king hold his purpose, I will win for him an I can;
    if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.

    OSRIC

    Shall I re-deliver you e'en so?

    HAMLET

    To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.

    OSRIC

    I commend my duty to your lordship.

    HAMLET

    Yours, yours.

    EXIT OSRIC

    He does well to commend it himself; there are no 
     tongues else for's turn.

    HORATIO

    This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.

    HAMLET

    He did comply with his dug, before he sucked it.
    Thus has he--and many more of the same bevy that I
    know the dressy age dotes on--only got the tune of
    the time and outward habit of encounter; a kind of
    yesty collection, which carries them through and
    through the most fond and winnowed opinions; and do
    but blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.

    ENTER A LORD

    LORD

    My lord, his majesty commended him to you by young
    Osric, who brings back to him that you attend him in
    the hall: he sends to know if your pleasure hold to
    play with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.

    HAMLET

    I am constant to my purpose; they follow the king's
    pleasure: if his fitness speaks, mine is ready; now
    or whensoever, provided I be so able as now.

    LORD

    The king and queen and all are coming down.

    HAMLET

    In happy time.

    LORD

    The queen desires you to use some gentle
    entertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.

    HAMLET

    She well instructs me.

    EXIT LORD

    HORATIO

    You will lose this wager, my lord.

    HAMLET

    I do not think so: since he went into France, I
    have been in continual practise: I shall win at the
    odds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's here
    about my heart: but it is no matter.

    HORATIO

    Nay, good my lord,--

    HAMLET

    It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of
    gain-giving, as would perhaps trouble a woman.

    HORATIO

    If your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I will
    forestall their repair hither, and say you are not
    fit.

    HAMLET

    Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special
    providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,
    'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be
    now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the
    readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he
    leaves, what is't to leave betimes?

    ENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, LAERTES, LORDS, OSRIC, AND ATTENDANTS WITH FOILS &C.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
    
    KING CLAUDIUS PUTS LAERTES' HAND INTO HAMLET'S

    HAMLET

    Give me your pardon, sir: I've done you wrong;
    But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.
    This presence knows,
    And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'd
    With sore distraction. What I have done,
    That might your nature, honour and exception
    Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.
    Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet:
    If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,
    And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,
    Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.
    Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so,
    Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;
    His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.
    Sir, in this audience,
    Let my disclaiming from a purposed evil
    Free me so far in your most generous thoughts,
    That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,
    And hurt my brother.

    LAERTES

    I am satisfied in nature,
    Whose motive, in this case, should stir me most
    To my revenge: but in my terms of honour
    I stand aloof; and will no reconcilement,
    Till by some elder masters, of known honour,
    I have a voice and precedent of peace,
    To keep my name ungored. But till that time,
    I do receive your offer'd love like love,
    And will not wrong it.

    HAMLET

    I embrace it freely;
    And will this brother's wager frankly play.
    Give us the foils. Come on.

    LAERTES

    Come, one for me.

    HAMLET

    I'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignorance
    Your skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night,
    Stick fiery off indeed.

    LAERTES

    You mock me, sir.

    HAMLET

    No, by this hand.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,
    You know the wager?

    HAMLET

    Very well, my lord
    Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    I do not fear it; I have seen you both:
    But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.

    LAERTES

    This is too heavy, let me see another.

    HAMLET

    This likes me well. These foils have all a length?
    
    They prepare to play

    OSRIC

    Ay, my good lord.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Set me the stoops of wine upon that table.
    If Hamlet give the first or second hit,
    Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
    Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:
    The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;
    And in the cup an union shall he throw,
    Richer than that which four successive kings
    In Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;
    And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,
    The trumpet to the cannoneer without,
    The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,
    'Now the king dunks to Hamlet.' Come, begin:
    And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.

    HAMLET

    Come on, sir.

    LAERTES

    Come, my lord.
    
    They play

    HAMLET

    One.

    LAERTES

    No.

    HAMLET

    Judgment.

    OSRIC

    A hit, a very palpable hit.

    LAERTES

    Well; again.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Stay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;
    Here's to thy health.
    
    Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within
    Give him the cup.

    HAMLET

    I'll play this bout first; set it by awhile. Come.
    
    They play
    Another hit; what say you?

    LAERTES

    A touch, a touch, I do confess.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Our son shall win.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    He's fat, and scant of breath.
    Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows;
    The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.

    HAMLET

    Good madam!

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Gertrude, do not drink.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    I will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    [Aside] It is the poison'd cup: it is too late.

    HAMLET

    I dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    Come, let me wipe thy face.

    LAERTES

    My lord, I'll hit him now.

    KING CLAUDIUS

    I do not think't.

    LAERTES

    [Aside] And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.

    HAMLET

    Come, for the third, Laertes: you but dally;
    I pray you, pass with your best violence;
    I am afeard you make a wanton of me.

    LAERTES

    Say you so? come on.
    
    They play

    OSRIC

    Nothing, neither way.

    LAERTES

    Have at you now!
    
    LAERTES WOUNDS HAMLET; THEN IN SCUFFLING, THEY CHANGE RAPIERS; AND HAMLET WOUNDSLAERTES

    KING CLAUDIUS

    Part them; they are incensed.

    HAMLET

    Nay, come, again.
    
    QUEEN GERTRUDE FALLS

    OSRIC

    Look to the queen there, ho!

    HORATIO

    They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?

    OSRIC

    How is't, Laertes?

    LAERTES

    Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric;
    I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.

    HAMLET

    How does the queen?

    KING CLAUDIUS

    She swounds to see them bleed.

    QUEEN GERTRUDE

    No, no, the drink, the drink,--O my dear Hamlet,--
    The drink, the drink! I am poison'd.

    DIES

    HAMLET

    O villainy! Ho! let the door be lock'd:
    Treachery! Seek it out.

    LAERTES

    It is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain;
    No medicine in the world can do thee good;
    In thee there is not half an hour of life;
    The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,
    Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practise
    Hath turn'd itself on me lo, here I lie,
    Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd:
    I can no more: the king, the king's to blame.

    HAMLET

    The point!--envenom'd too!
    Then, venom, to thy work.

    STABS KING CLAUDIUS

    ALL

    Treason! treason!

    KING CLAUDIUS

    O, yet defend me, friends; I am but hurt.

    HAMLET

    Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,
    Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?
    Follow my mother.

    KING CLAUDIUS DIES

    LAERTES

    He is justly served;
    It is a poison temper'd by himself.
    Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:
    Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,
    Nor thine on me.

    DIES

    HAMLET

    Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.
    I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!
    You that look pale and tremble at this chance,
    That are but mutes or audience to this act,
    Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death,
    Is strict in his arrest--O, I could tell you--
    But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;
    Thou livest; report me and my cause aright
    To the unsatisfied.

    HORATIO

    Never believe it:
    I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:
    Here's yet some liquor left.

    HAMLET

    As thou'rt a man,
    Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't.
    O good Horatio, what a wounded name,
    Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!
    If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart
    Absent thee from felicity awhile,
    And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,
    To tell my story.
    
    March afar off, and shot within
    What warlike noise is this?

    OSRIC

    Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,
    To the ambassadors of England gives
    This warlike volley.

    HAMLET

    O, I die, Horatio;
    The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit:
    I cannot live to hear the news from England;
    But I do prophesy the election lights
    On Fortinbras: he has my dying voice;
    So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,
    Which have solicited. The rest is silence.

    DIES

    HORATIO

    Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:
    And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!
    Why does the drum come hither?

    MARCH WITHIN

    ENTER FORTINBRAS, THE ENGLISH AMBASSADORS, AND OTHERS

    PRINCE FORTINBRAS

    Where is this sight?

    HORATIO

    What is it ye would see?
    If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.

    PRINCE FORTINBRAS

    This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,
    What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,
    That thou so many princes at a shot
    So bloodily hast struck?

    FIRST AMBASSADOR

    The sight is dismal;
    And our affairs from England come too late:
    The ears are senseless that should give us hearing,
    To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,
    That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:
    Where should we have our thanks?

    HORATIO

    Not from his mouth,
    Had it the ability of life to thank you:
    He never gave commandment for their death.
    But since, so jump upon this bloody question,
    You from the Polack wars, and you from England,
    Are here arrived give order that these bodies
    High on a stage be placed to the view;
    And let me speak to the yet unknowing world
    How these things came about: so shall you hear
    Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,
    Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,
    Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
    And, in this upshot, purposes mistook
    Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I
    Truly deliver.

    PRINCE FORTINBRAS

    Let us haste to hear it,
    And call the noblest to the audience.
    For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune:
    I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,
    Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.

    HORATIO

    Of that I shall have also cause to speak,
    And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more;
    But let this same be presently perform'd,
    Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance
    On plots and errors, happen.

    PRINCE FORTINBRAS

    Let four captains
    Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;
    For he was likely, had he been put on,
    To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,
    The soldiers' music and the rites of war
    Speak loudly for him.
    Take up the bodies: such a sight as this
    Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.
    Go, bid the soldiers shoot.

    A DEAD MARCH. EXEUNT, BEARING OFF THE DEADBODIES; AFTER WHICH A PEAL OF ORDNANCE IS SHOT OFF.

{"cards":[{"_id":"3e3f5dadc44059fa49000010","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":null,"content":"# Hamlet\n\nThis drama is one of the great tragedies by William Shakespeare. The themes of the plot cover indecision, revenge and retribution, deception, ambition, loyalty and fate.\n\n![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/4e/Bernhardt_Hamlet2.jpg)"},{"_id":"3f3818e825eed9791a000093","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":6,"parentId":"3e3f5dadc44059fa49000010","content":"## Plot Summary\n\nPrince Hamlet of Denmark mourns both his father's death and his mother, Queen Gertrude's remarriage to Claudius, his father's brother. The ghost of Hamlet's father appears to him and tells him that Claudius is responsible for his death, having poisoned him. Hamlet swears revenge against Claudius. In a fit of rage, he kills the eavesdropping Polonius, the court chamberlain.\n\nPolonius's son Laertes returns to Denmark to avenge his father's death. Polonius's daughter Ophelia loves the Prince but his behaviour drives her to madness. Ophelia dies by drowning. A duel takes place between Hamlet and Laertes and ends with the death of Gertrude, Laertes, Claudius, and Hamlet. A Norwegian prince, Fortinbras, appears in the final scene to find the royal family dead. He takes control of the kingdom, ordering that Hamlet be carried away in a manner suited to a fallen soldier."},{"_id":"3e3f6852c44059fa49000011","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3f3818e825eed9791a000093","content":"## Act 1\n\nA ghost resembling Hamlet the King (Hamlet’s dead father) appears on the battlements of Elsinore. The guards encourage the ghost to speak, but it does not.\n\nClaudius speaks of Fortinbras who has written to him demanding the land that King Hamlet won from Fortinbras’ father. In a soliloquy, Hamlet explains his disgust for his mother’s marriage. The guards tell Hamlet about the apparition.\n\nLaertes, who is leaving for France, warns his sister Ophelia that Hamlet’s love for her may be fleeting and inconstant. Polonius, their father, echoes his sentiments.\n\nThe ghost appears to Hamlet, Horatio and Marcellus, and explains to Hamlet that he is the spirit of his father who cannot rest until revenge is taken upon his murderer, who he reveals to be Claudius. "},{"_id":"3e3f69acc44059fa49000012","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f6852c44059fa49000011","content":"## Act 1, Scene 1\n\nOn a dark winter night outside Elsinore Castle in Denmark, an officer named Bernardo relieves the watchman Francisco. Francisco thanks Bernardo and prepares to go home.\n\nBernardo is joined by Marcellus, another watchman, and Horatio, a friend of Prince Hamlet. They discuss the apparition they have seen for the past two nights: the ghost of the recently deceased King Hamlet.\n\nHoratio is skeptical, but the ghost suddenly appears before the men and then vanishes. Horatio acknowledges that the specter resembles the dead King, and declares that the ghost must bring warning of misfortune for Denmark. He mentions that Fortinbras, the young Prince of Norway, now seeks to reconquer some forfeited lands.\n\nThe ghost materializes again, and Horatio tries to speak to it. The ghost remains silent, and disappears as the cock crows at dawn. Horatio suggests that they inform Prince Hamlet. He believes that if it is really the ghost of the king, it will not refuse to speak to his beloved son."},{"_id":"3e3f99e4c44059fa4900002c","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f69acc44059fa49000012","content":"## SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle.\n\nFRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO \n\nBERNARDO\n\n Who's there?\n\nFRANCISCO\n\n Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n Long live the king!\n\nFRANCISCO\n\n Bernardo?\n\nBERNARDO\n\n He.\n\nFRANCISCO\n\n You come most carefully upon your hour.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.\n\nFRANCISCO\n\n For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,\n And I am sick at heart.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n Have you had quiet guard?\n\nFRANCISCO\n\n Not a mouse stirring.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n Well, good night.\n If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,\n The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.\n\nFRANCISCO\n\n I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there?\n\nENTER HORATIO AND MARCELLUS\n\nHORATIO\n\n Friends to this ground.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n And liegemen to the Dane.\n\nFRANCISCO\n\n Give you good night.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n O, farewell, honest soldier:\n Who hath relieved you?\n\nFRANCISCO\n\n Bernardo has my place.\n Give you good night.\n\nEXIT\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Holla! Bernardo!\n\nBERNARDO\n\n Say,\n What, is Horatio there?\n\nHORATIO\n\n A piece of him.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?\n\nBERNARDO\n\n I have seen nothing.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy,\n And will not let belief take hold of him\n Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us:\n Therefore I have entreated him along\n With us to watch the minutes of this night;\n That if again this apparition come,\n He may approve our eyes and speak to it.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Tush, tush, 'twill not appear.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n Sit down awhile;\n And let us once again assail your ears,\n That are so fortified against our story\n What we have two nights seen.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Well, sit we down,\n And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n Last night of all,\n When yond same star that's westward from the pole\n Had made his course to illume that part of heaven\n Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,\n The bell then beating one,--\n\nENTER GHOST\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!\n\nBERNARDO\n\n In the same figure, like the king that's dead.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n It would be spoke to.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Question it, Horatio.\n\nHORATIO\n\n What art thou that usurp'st this time of night,\n Together with that fair and warlike form\n In which the majesty of buried Denmark\n Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n It is offended.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n See, it stalks away!\n\nHORATIO\n\n Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!\n\nEXIT GHOST\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n 'Tis gone, and will not answer.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale:\n Is not this something more than fantasy?\n What think you on't?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Before my God, I might not this believe\n Without the sensible and true avouch\n Of mine own eyes.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Is it not like the king?\n\nHORATIO\n\n As thou art to thyself:\n Such was the very armour he had on\n When he the ambitious Norway combated;\n So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle,\n He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.\n 'Tis strange.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,\n With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.\n\nHORATIO\n\n In what particular thought to work I know not;\n But in the gross and scope of my opinion,\n This bodes some strange eruption to our state.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,\n Why this same strict and most observant watch\n So nightly toils the subject of the land,\n And why such daily cast of brazen cannon,\n And foreign mart for implements of war;\n Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task\n Does not divide the Sunday from the week;\n What might be toward, that this sweaty haste\n Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day:\n Who is't that can inform me?\n\nHORATIO\n\n That can I;\n At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king,\n Whose image even but now appear'd to us,\n Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,\n Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,\n Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet--\n For so this side of our known world esteem'd him--\n Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact,\n Well ratified by law and heraldry,\n Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands\n Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror:\n Against the which, a moiety competent\n Was gaged by our king; which had return'd\n To the inheritance of Fortinbras,\n Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant,\n And carriage of the article design'd,\n His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,\n Of unimproved mettle hot and full,\n Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there\n Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,\n For food and diet, to some enterprise\n That hath a stomach in't; which is no other--\n As it doth well appear unto our state--\n But to recover of us, by strong hand\n And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands\n So by his father lost: and this, I take it,\n Is the main motive of our preparations,\n The source of this our watch and the chief head\n Of this post-haste and romage in the land.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n I think it be no other but e'en so:\n Well may it sort that this portentous figure\n Comes armed through our watch; so like the king\n That was and is the question of these wars.\n\nHORATIO\n\n A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.\n In the most high and palmy state of Rome,\n A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,\n The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead\n Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets:\n As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,\n Disasters in the sun; and the moist star\n Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands\n Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:\n And even the like precurse of fierce events,\n As harbingers preceding still the fates\n And prologue to the omen coming on,\n Have heaven and earth together demonstrated\n Unto our climatures and countrymen.--\n But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!\n\nRE-ENTER GHOST\n\n I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!\n If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,\n Speak to me:\n If there be any good thing to be done,\n That may to thee do ease and grace to me,\n Speak to me:\n\n Cock crows\n If thou art privy to thy country's fate,\n Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak!\n Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life\n Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,\n For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,\n Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Shall I strike at it with my partisan?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Do, if it will not stand.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n 'Tis here!\n\nHORATIO\n\n 'Tis here!\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n 'Tis gone!\n\n EXIT GHOST\n\n We do it wrong, being so majestical,\n To offer it the show of violence;\n For it is, as the air, invulnerable,\n And our vain blows malicious mockery.\n\nBERNARDO\n\n It was about to speak, when the cock crew.\n\nHORATIO\n\n And then it started like a guilty thing\n Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,\n The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,\n Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat\n Awake the god of day; and, at his warning,\n Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,\n The extravagant and erring spirit hies\n To his confine: and of the truth herein\n This present object made probation.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n It faded on the crowing of the cock.\n Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes\n Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,\n The bird of dawning singeth all night long:\n And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;\n The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,\n No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,\n So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.\n\nHORATIO\n\n So have I heard and do in part believe it.\n But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,\n Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill:\n Break we our watch up; and by my advice,\n Let us impart what we have seen to-night\n Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,\n This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.\n Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,\n As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know\n Where we shall find him most conveniently.\n\nEXEUNT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f6b0cc44059fa49000013","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":2,"parentId":"3e3f6852c44059fa49000011","content":"## Act 1, Scene 2\n\nKing Claudius gives a speech to his courtiers, explaining his recent marriage to Gertrude. He says that Fortinbras is demanding the surrender of lands, and dispatches messengers to the King of Norway, Fortinbras’s elderly uncle.\n\nClaudius turns to Laertes, the son of the Lord Chamberlain, Polonius. Polonius and Claudius give Laertes permission to return to France. \n\nTurning to Hamlet, Claudius asks why he is so miserable. Claudius declares that to mourn for too long is unmanly and inappropriate. Claudius urges Hamlet to think of him as a father, reminding him that he is next in line for the throne.\n\nClaudius says that he does not wish Hamlet to return to school at Wittenberg. Gertrude echoes her husband, and Hamlet agrees to obey her. Claudius claims to be so pleased that he will celebrate with festivities and cannon fire. He escorts Gertrude out, and the court follows.\n\nAlone, Hamlet wishes he could die. He remembers how deeply in love his parents seemed, and he curses the thought that now, not yet two month after his father’s death, his mother has married his father’s far inferior brother.\n\nHamlet quiets as Horatio, Marcellus and Bernardo stride into the room. Horatio tells Hamlet that they have seen what appears to be his father’s ghost. Hamlet agrees to keep watch with them that night, hoping that he will be able to speak to the apparition."},{"_id":"3e3fc1b84f1f3525bd000022","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f6b0cc44059fa49000013","content":"## SCENE II. A room of state in the castle.\n\nENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, LORDS, AND ATTENDANTS.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death\n The memory be green, and that it us befitted\n To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom\n To be contracted in one brow of woe,\n Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature\n That we with wisest sorrow think on him,\n Together with remembrance of ourselves.\n Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,\n The imperial jointress to this warlike state,\n Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,--\n With an auspicious and a dropping eye,\n With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,\n In equal scale weighing delight and dole,--\n Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd\n Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone\n With this affair along. For all, our thanks.\n Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,\n Holding a weak supposal of our worth,\n Or thinking by our late dear brother's death\n Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,\n Colleagued with the dream of his advantage,\n He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,\n Importing the surrender of those lands\n Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,\n To our most valiant brother. So much for him.\n Now for ourself and for this time of meeting:\n Thus much the business is: we have here writ\n To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,--\n Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears\n Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress\n His further gait herein; in that the levies,\n The lists and full proportions, are all made\n Out of his subject: and we here dispatch\n You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,\n For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;\n Giving to you no further personal power\n To business with the king, more than the scope\n Of these delated articles allow.\n Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.\n\nCORNELIUS VOLTIMAND\n\n In that and all things will we show our duty.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.\n\n Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS\n And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?\n You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes?\n You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,\n And loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes,\n That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?\n The head is not more native to the heart,\n The hand more instrumental to the mouth,\n Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.\n What wouldst thou have, Laertes?\n\nLAERTES\n\n My dread lord,\n Your leave and favour to return to France;\n From whence though willingly I came to Denmark,\n To show my duty in your coronation,\n Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,\n My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France\n And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave\n By laboursome petition, and at last\n Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:\n I do beseech you, give him leave to go.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,\n And thy best graces spend it at thy will!\n But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,--\n\nHAMLET\n\n [Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n How is it that the clouds still hang on you?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,\n And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.\n Do not for ever with thy vailed lids\n Seek for thy noble father in the dust:\n Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,\n Passing through nature to eternity.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, madam, it is common.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n If it be,\n Why seems it so particular with thee?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.'\n 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,\n Nor customary suits of solemn black,\n Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,\n No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,\n Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage,\n Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,\n That can denote me truly: these indeed seem,\n For they are actions that a man might play:\n But I have that within which passeth show;\n These but the trappings and the suits of woe.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,\n To give these mourning duties to your father:\n But, you must know, your father lost a father;\n That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound\n In filial obligation for some term\n To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever\n In obstinate condolement is a course\n Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief;\n It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,\n A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,\n An understanding simple and unschool'd:\n For what we know must be and is as common\n As any the most vulgar thing to sense,\n Why should we in our peevish opposition\n Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,\n A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,\n To reason most absurd: whose common theme\n Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,\n From the first corse till he that died to-day,\n 'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth\n This unprevailing woe, and think of us\n As of a father: for let the world take note,\n You are the most immediate to our throne;\n And with no less nobility of love\n Than that which dearest father bears his son,\n Do I impart toward you. For your intent\n In going back to school in Wittenberg,\n It is most retrograde to our desire:\n And we beseech you, bend you to remain\n Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,\n Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet:\n I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I shall in all my best obey you, madam.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply:\n Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;\n This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet\n Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,\n No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,\n But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,\n And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again,\n Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.\n\n EXEUNT ALL BUT HAMLET\n\nHAMLET\n\n O, that this too too solid flesh would melt\n Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!\n Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd\n His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!\n How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,\n Seem to me all the uses of this world!\n Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,\n That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature\n Possess it merely. That it should come to this!\n But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:\n So excellent a king; that was, to this,\n Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother\n That he might not beteem the winds of heaven\n Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!\n Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,\n As if increase of appetite had grown\n By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--\n Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!--\n A little month, or ere those shoes were old\n With which she follow'd my poor father's body,\n Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she--\n O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,\n Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,\n My father's brother, but no more like my father\n Than I to Hercules: within a month:\n Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears\n Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,\n She married. O, most wicked speed, to post\n With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!\n It is not nor it cannot come to good:\n But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.\n\n ENTER HORATIO, MARCELLUS, AND BERNARDO\n\nHORATIO\n\n Hail to your lordship!\n\nHAMLET\n\n I am glad to see you well:\n Horatio,--or I do forget myself.\n\nHORATIO\n\n The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:\n And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus?\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n My good lord--\n\nHAMLET\n\n I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir.\n But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?\n\nHORATIO\n\n A truant disposition, good my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I would not hear your enemy say so,\n Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,\n To make it truster of your own report\n Against yourself: I know you are no truant.\n But what is your affair in Elsinore?\n We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.\n\nHORATIO\n\n My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student;\n I think it was to see my mother's wedding.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats\n Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.\n Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven\n Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!\n My father!--methinks I see my father.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Where, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n In my mind's eye, Horatio.\n\nHORATIO\n\n I saw him once; he was a goodly king.\n\nHAMLET\n\n He was a man, take him for all in all,\n I shall not look upon his like again.\n\nHORATIO\n\n My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Saw? who?\n\nHORATIO\n\n My lord, the king your father.\n\nHAMLET\n\n The king my father!\n\nHORATIO\n\n Season your admiration for awhile\n With an attent ear, till I may deliver,\n Upon the witness of these gentlemen,\n This marvel to you.\n\nHAMLET\n\n For God's love, let me hear.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Two nights together had these gentlemen,\n Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,\n In the dead vast and middle of the night,\n Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,\n Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,\n Appears before them, and with solemn march\n Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd\n By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,\n Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled\n Almost to jelly with the act of fear,\n Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me\n In dreadful secrecy impart they did;\n And I with them the third night kept the watch;\n Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time,\n Form of the thing, each word made true and good,\n The apparition comes: I knew your father;\n These hands are not more like.\n\nHAMLET\n\n But where was this?\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Did you not speak to it?\n\nHORATIO\n\n My lord, I did;\n But answer made it none: yet once methought\n It lifted up its head and did address\n Itself to motion, like as it would speak;\n But even then the morning cock crew loud,\n And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,\n And vanish'd from our sight.\n\nHAMLET\n\n 'Tis very strange.\n\nHORATIO\n\n As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;\n And we did think it writ down in our duty\n To let you know of it.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.\n Hold you the watch to-night?\n\nMARCELLUS BERNARDO\n\n We do, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Arm'd, say you?\n\nMARCELLUS BERNARDO\n\n Arm'd, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n From top to toe?\n\nMARCELLUS BERNARDO\n\n My lord, from head to foot.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Then saw you not his face?\n\nHORATIO\n\n O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What, look'd he frowningly?\n\nHORATIO\n\n A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Pale or red?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Nay, very pale.\n\nHAMLET\n\n And fix'd his eyes upon you?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Most constantly.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I would I had been there.\n\nHORATIO\n\n It would have much amazed you.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Very like, very like. Stay'd it long?\n\nHORATIO\n\n While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.\n\nMARCELLUS BERNARDO\n\n Longer, longer.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Not when I saw't.\n\nHAMLET\n\n His beard was grizzled--no?\n\nHORATIO\n\n It was, as I have seen it in his life,\n A sable silver'd.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I will watch to-night;\n Perchance 'twill walk again.\n\nHORATIO\n\n I warrant it will.\n\nHAMLET\n\n If it assume my noble father's person,\n I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape\n And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,\n If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,\n Let it be tenable in your silence still;\n And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,\n Give it an understanding, but no tongue:\n I will requite your loves. So, fare you well:\n Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,\n I'll visit you.\n\nAll\n\n Our duty to your honour.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.\n\nEXEUNT ALL BUT HAMLET\n\n My father's spirit in arms! all is not well;\n I doubt some foul play: would the night were come!\n Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise,\n Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.\n\nEXIT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f6f6bc44059fa49000014","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":3,"parentId":"3e3f6852c44059fa49000011","content":"## Act 1, Scene 3\n\nLaertes prepares to leave for France. Bidding Ophelia farewell, he cautions her against falling in love with Hamlet. Ophelia agrees to heed Laertes’ advice but urges him not to give her advice that he does not practice himself. Laertes reassures her that he will take care of himself.\n\nPolonius enters to bid his son farewell. He tells Laertes that he must hurry to his ship but then delays him by giving him a great deal of advice about how to behave with integrity and practicality. Laertes leaves, bidding farewell to Ophelia once more. \n\nAlone with his daughter, Polonius asks Ophelia what Laertes told her before he left, and questions her about her relationship with Hamlet. He sternly forbids Ophelia to associate with Hamlet. Ophelia pledges to obey."},{"_id":"3e3fc27a4f1f3525bd000023","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f6f6bc44059fa49000014","content":"## SCENE III. A room in Polonius' house.\n\nENTER LAERTES AND OPHELIA \n\nLAERTES\n\n My necessaries are embark'd: farewell:\n And, sister, as the winds give benefit\n And convoy is assistant, do not sleep,\n But let me hear from you.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Do you doubt that?\n\nLAERTES\n\n For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour,\n Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood,\n A violet in the youth of primy nature,\n Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,\n The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n No more but so?\n\nLAERTES\n\n Think it no more;\n For nature, crescent, does not grow alone\n In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes,\n The inward service of the mind and soul\n Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,\n And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch\n The virtue of his will: but you must fear,\n His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;\n For he himself is subject to his birth:\n He may not, as unvalued persons do,\n Carve for himself; for on his choice depends\n The safety and health of this whole state;\n And therefore must his choice be circumscribed\n Unto the voice and yielding of that body\n Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you,\n It fits your wisdom so far to believe it\n As he in his particular act and place\n May give his saying deed; which is no further\n Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.\n Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,\n If with too credent ear you list his songs,\n Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open\n To his unmaster'd importunity.\n Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister,\n And keep you in the rear of your affection,\n Out of the shot and danger of desire.\n The chariest maid is prodigal enough,\n If she unmask her beauty to the moon:\n Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes:\n The canker galls the infants of the spring,\n Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,\n And in the morn and liquid dew of youth\n Contagious blastments are most imminent.\n Be wary then; best safety lies in fear:\n Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,\n As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,\n Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,\n Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;\n Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,\n Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,\n And recks not his own rede.\n\nLAERTES\n\n O, fear me not.\n I stay too long: but here my father comes.\n\nENTER POLONIUS\n\n A double blessing is a double grace,\n Occasion smiles upon a second leave.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!\n The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,\n And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee!\n And these few precepts in thy memory\n See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,\n Nor any unproportioned thought his act.\n Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.\n Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,\n Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;\n But do not dull thy palm with entertainment\n Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware\n Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,\n Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee.\n Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;\n Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.\n Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,\n But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;\n For the apparel oft proclaims the man,\n And they in France of the best rank and station\n Are of a most select and generous chief in that.\n Neither a borrower nor a lender be;\n For loan oft loses both itself and friend,\n And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.\n This above all: to thine ownself be true,\n And it must follow, as the night the day,\n Thou canst not then be false to any man.\n Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!\n\nLAERTES\n\n Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n The time invites you; go; your servants tend.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well\n What I have said to you.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n 'Tis in my memory lock'd,\n And you yourself shall keep the key of it.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Farewell.\n\nEXIT\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n What is't, Ophelia, be hath said to you?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Marry, well bethought:\n 'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late\n Given private time to you; and you yourself\n Have of your audience been most free and bounteous:\n If it be so, as so 'tis put on me,\n And that in way of caution, I must tell you,\n You do not understand yourself so clearly\n As it behoves my daughter and your honour.\n What is between you? give me up the truth.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders\n Of his affection to me.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl,\n Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.\n Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n I do not know, my lord, what I should think.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby;\n That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay,\n Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly;\n Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,\n Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n My lord, he hath importuned me with love\n In honourable fashion.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,\n With almost all the holy vows of heaven.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,\n When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul\n Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,\n Giving more light than heat, extinct in both,\n Even in their promise, as it is a-making,\n You must not take for fire. From this time\n Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence;\n Set your entreatments at a higher rate\n Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,\n Believe so much in him, that he is young\n And with a larger tether may he walk\n Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia,\n Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,\n Not of that dye which their investments show,\n But mere implorators of unholy suits,\n Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,\n The better to beguile. This is for all:\n I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth,\n Have you so slander any moment leisure,\n As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.\n Look to't, I charge you: come your ways.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n I shall obey, my lord.\n\nEXEUNT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f6fb7c44059fa49000015","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":4,"parentId":"3e3f6852c44059fa49000011","content":"## Act 1, Scene 4\n\nHamlet keeps watch outside the castle with Horatio and Marcellus. Trumpets and gunfire sound from the castle - the new king is spending the night carousing. Disgusted, Hamlet declares that the king makes Denmark a laughing stock.\n\nThe ghost appears, and Hamlet calls out to it. The ghost beckons Hamlet to follow it. His companions urge him not to follow, begging him to consider that the ghost might lead him toward harm.\n\nHamlet is unsure whether his father’s apparition is truly the king’s spirit or an evil demon, but he declares that he cares nothing for his life and that the ghost can do nothing to harm his soul. He follows after the apparition and disappears. \n\nHoratio proclaims that heaven will oversee the outcome of Hamlet’s encounter with the ghost, but Marcellus says that they should follow and try to protect him. After a moment, Horatio and Marcellus follow after Hamlet and the ghost."},{"_id":"3e4028cd4f1f3525bd000024","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f6fb7c44059fa49000015","content":"## SCENE IV. The platform.\n\nENTER HAMLET, HORATIO, AND MARCELLUS \n\nHAMLET\n\n The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.\n\nHORATIO\n\n It is a nipping and an eager air.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What hour now?\n\nHORATIO\n\n I think it lacks of twelve.\n\nHAMLET\n\n No, it is struck.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Indeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the season\n Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.\n\n A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within\n What does this mean, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse,\n Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels;\n And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,\n The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out\n The triumph of his pledge.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Is it a custom?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, marry, is't:\n But to my mind, though I am native here\n And to the manner born, it is a custom\n More honour'd in the breach than the observance.\n This heavy-headed revel east and west\n Makes us traduced and tax'd of other nations:\n They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase\n Soil our addition; and indeed it takes\n From our achievements, though perform'd at height,\n The pith and marrow of our attribute.\n So, oft it chances in particular men,\n That for some vicious mole of nature in them,\n As, in their birth--wherein they are not guilty,\n Since nature cannot choose his origin--\n By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,\n Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason,\n Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens\n The form of plausive manners, that these men,\n Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,\n Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,--\n Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace,\n As infinite as man may undergo--\n Shall in the general censure take corruption\n From that particular fault: the dram of eale\n Doth all the noble substance of a doubt\n To his own scandal.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Look, my lord, it comes!\n\nENTER GHOST\n\nHAMLET\n\n Angels and ministers of grace defend us!\n Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,\n Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,\n Be thy intents wicked or charitable,\n Thou comest in such a questionable shape\n That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet,\n King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me!\n Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell\n Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death,\n Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre,\n Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,\n Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws,\n To cast thee up again. What may this mean,\n That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel\n Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,\n Making night hideous; and we fools of nature\n So horridly to shake our disposition\n With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?\n Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?\n\nGHOST BECKONS HAMLET\n\nHORATIO\n\n It beckons you to go away with it,\n As if it some impartment did desire\n To you alone.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Look, with what courteous action\n It waves you to a more removed ground:\n But do not go with it.\n\nHORATIO\n\n No, by no means.\n\nHAMLET\n\n It will not speak; then I will follow it.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Do not, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, what should be the fear?\n I do not set my life in a pin's fee;\n And for my soul, what can it do to that,\n Being a thing immortal as itself?\n It waves me forth again: I'll follow it.\n\nHORATIO\n\n What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,\n Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff\n That beetles o'er his base into the sea,\n And there assume some other horrible form,\n Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason\n And draw you into madness? think of it:\n The very place puts toys of desperation,\n Without more motive, into every brain\n That looks so many fathoms to the sea\n And hears it roar beneath.\n\nHAMLET\n\n It waves me still.\n Go on; I'll follow thee.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n You shall not go, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Hold off your hands.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Be ruled; you shall not go.\n\nHAMLET\n\n My fate cries out,\n And makes each petty artery in this body\n As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.\n Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen.\n By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!\n I say, away! Go on; I'll follow thee.\n\nEXEUNT GHOST AND HAMLET\n\nHORATIO\n\n He waxes desperate with imagination.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Have after. To what issue will this come?\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Heaven will direct it.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Nay, let's follow him.\n\nEXEUNT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f70cdc44059fa49000016","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":5,"parentId":"3e3f6852c44059fa49000011","content":"## Act 1, Scene 5\n\nThe ghost speaks to Hamlet, claiming to be his father’s spirit. Hamlet is appalled at the revelation that his father has been murdered, and the ghost tells him that as he slept in his garden, Claudius poured poison into his ear. \n\nThe ghost exhorts Hamlet to seek revenge, telling him that Claudius has corrupted both Denmark and Gertrude. The ghost urges Hamlet not to act against his mother in any way.\n\nAs dawn breaks, the ghost disappears. Hamlet swears to remember and obey the ghost. Horatio and Marcellus arrive and ask Hamlet what has happened. He refuses to tell them, and insists that they swear not to reveal what they have seen.\n \nHe tells them further that he may pretend to be a madman, and he makes them swear not to give any hint that they know anything about his motives. Three times the ghost’s voice echoes from beneath the ground, proclaiming, “Swear.” Horatio and Marcellus swear. As they leave, Hamlet bemoans the responsibility he carries."},{"_id":"3e402d674f1f3525bd000025","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f70cdc44059fa49000016","content":"## SCENE V. Another part of the platform.\n\nENTER GHOST AND HAMLET \n\nHAMLET\n\n Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further.\n\nGHOST\n\n Mark me.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I will.\n\nGHOST\n\n My hour is almost come,\n When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames\n Must render up myself.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Alas, poor ghost!\n\nGHOST\n\n Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing\n To what I shall unfold.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Speak; I am bound to hear.\n\nGHOST\n \n So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What?\n\nGHOST\n\n I am thy father's spirit,\n Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,\n And for the day confined to fast in fires,\n Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature\n Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid\n To tell the secrets of my prison-house,\n I could a tale unfold whose lightest word\n Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,\n Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,\n Thy knotted and combined locks to part\n And each particular hair to stand on end,\n Like quills upon the fretful porpentine:\n But this eternal blazon must not be\n To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!\n If thou didst ever thy dear father love--\n\nHAMLET\n\n O God!\n\nGHOST\n\n Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Murder!\n\nGHOST\n\n Murder most foul, as in the best it is;\n But this most foul, strange and unnatural.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift\n As meditation or the thoughts of love,\n May sweep to my revenge.\n\nGHOST\n\n I find thee apt;\n And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed\n That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,\n Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear:\n 'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,\n A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark\n Is by a forged process of my death\n Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth,\n The serpent that did sting thy father's life\n Now wears his crown.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O my prophetic soul! My uncle!\n\nGHOST\n\n Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,\n With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,--\n O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power\n So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust\n The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen:\n O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!\n From me, whose love was of that dignity\n That it went hand in hand even with the vow\n I made to her in marriage, and to decline\n Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor\n To those of mine!\n But virtue, as it never will be moved,\n Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,\n So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,\n Will sate itself in a celestial bed,\n And prey on garbage.\n But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;\n Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,\n My custom always of the afternoon,\n Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,\n With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial,\n And in the porches of my ears did pour\n The leperous distilment; whose effect\n Holds such an enmity with blood of man\n That swift as quicksilver it courses through\n The natural gates and alleys of the body,\n And with a sudden vigour doth posset\n And curd, like eager droppings into milk,\n The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine;\n And a most instant tetter bark'd about,\n Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust,\n All my smooth body.\n Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand\n Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd:\n Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,\n Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd,\n No reckoning made, but sent to my account\n With all my imperfections on my head:\n O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!\n If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;\n Let not the royal bed of Denmark be\n A couch for luxury and damned incest.\n But, howsoever thou pursuest this act,\n Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive\n Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven\n And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,\n To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!\n The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,\n And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:\n Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me.\n\nEXIT\n\nHAMLET\n\n O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else?\n And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart;\n And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,\n But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee!\n Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat\n In this distracted globe. Remember thee!\n Yea, from the table of my memory\n I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,\n All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,\n That youth and observation copied there;\n And thy commandment all alone shall live\n Within the book and volume of my brain,\n Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!\n O most pernicious woman!\n O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!\n My tables,--meet it is I set it down,\n That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;\n At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark:\n\n Writing\n So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;\n It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.'\n I have sworn 't.\n\nMARCELLUS HORATIO\n\n [Within] My lord, my lord,--\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n [Within] Lord Hamlet,--\n\nHORATIO\n\n [Within] Heaven secure him!\n\nHAMLET\n\n So be it!\n\nHORATIO\n\n [Within] Hillo, ho, ho, my lord!\n\nHAMLET\n\n Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.\n\n ENTER HORATIO AND MARCELLUS\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n How is't, my noble lord?\n\nHORATIO\n\n What news, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n O, wonderful!\n\nHORATIO\n\n Good my lord, tell it.\n\nHAMLET\n\n No; you'll reveal it.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Not I, my lord, by heaven.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Nor I, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How say you, then; would heart of man once think it?\n But you'll be secret?\n\nHORATIO MARCELLUS\n\n Ay, by heaven, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark\n But he's an arrant knave.\n\nHORATIO\n\n There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave\n To tell us this.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, right; you are i' the right;\n And so, without more circumstance at all,\n I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:\n You, as your business and desire shall point you;\n For every man has business and desire,\n Such as it is; and for mine own poor part,\n Look you, I'll go pray.\n\nHORATIO\n\n These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I'm sorry they offend you, heartily;\n Yes, 'faith heartily.\n\nHORATIO\n\n There's no offence, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,\n And much offence too. Touching this vision here,\n It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you:\n For your desire to know what is between us,\n O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends,\n As you are friends, scholars and soldiers,\n Give me one poor request.\n\nHORATIO\n\n What is't, my lord? we will.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Never make known what you have seen to-night.\n\nHORATIO MARCELLUS\n\n My lord, we will not.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nay, but swear't.\n\nHORATIO\n\n In faith,\n My lord, not I.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n Nor I, my lord, in faith.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Upon my sword.\n\nMARCELLUS\n\n We have sworn, my lord, already.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.\n\nGHOST\n\n [Beneath] Swear.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there,\n truepenny?\n Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage--\n Consent to swear.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Propose the oath, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Never to speak of this that you have seen,\n Swear by my sword.\n\nGHOST\n\n [Beneath] Swear.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Hic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground.\n Come hither, gentlemen,\n And lay your hands again upon my sword:\n Never to speak of this that you have heard,\n Swear by my sword.\n\nGHOST\n\n [Beneath] Swear.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Well said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast?\n A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.\n\nHORATIO\n\n O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!\n\nHAMLET\n\n And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.\n There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,\n Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come;\n Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,\n How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,\n As I perchance hereafter shall think meet\n To put an antic disposition on,\n That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,\n With arms encumber'd thus, or this headshake,\n Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,\n As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,'\n Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,'\n Or such ambiguous giving out, to note\n That you know aught of me: this not to do,\n So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear.\n\nGHOST\n\n [Beneath] Swear.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Rest, rest, perturbed spirit!\n\n They swear\n So, gentlemen,\n With all my love I do commend me to you:\n And what so poor a man as Hamlet is\n May do, to express his love and friending to you,\n God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;\n And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.\n The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,\n That ever I was born to set it right!\n Nay, come, let's go together.\n\nEXEUNT"},{"_id":"3e3f7260c44059fa49000017","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":2,"parentId":"3f3818e825eed9791a000093","content":"## Act 2\n\nOphelia claims that Hamlet came to her bedchamber, took hold of her, stared into her eyes and then left. She confirms to Polonius that she has sent back Hamlet’s love letters and refused to meet with him. Polonius believes that this may has angered Hamlet.\n\nRosencrantz and Guildenstern are instructed by King Claudius and Queen Gertrude to draw Hamlet out of his melancholy. Polonius suggests that Hamlet is upset because he has been rejected by Ophelia. "},{"_id":"3e3f7323c44059fa49000018","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f7260c44059fa49000017","content":"## Act 2, Scene 1\n\nPolonius dispatches his servant Reynaldo to France with money and written notes for Laertes, ordering him to inquire about and spy on Laertes’ personal life. \n\nAs Reynaldo leaves, Ophelia enters, visibly upset. She tells Polonius that Hamlet, unkempt and wild-eyed, has accosted her. Hamlet grabbed her, held her, and sighed heavily, but did not speak to her. \n\nPolonius says that Hamlet must be mad with his love for Ophelia, for she has distanced herself from him ever since Polonius ordered her to do so. Polonius speculates that this lovesickness might be the cause of Hamlet’s moodiness, and he hurries out to tell Claudius."},{"_id":"3e4039494f1f3525bd000026","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f7323c44059fa49000018","content":"## SCENE I. A room in POLONIUS' house.\n\nENTER POLONIUS AND REYNALDO \n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo.\n\nREYNALDO\n\n I will, my lord.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo,\n Before you visit him, to make inquire\n Of his behavior.\n\nREYNALDO\n\n My lord, I did intend it.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir,\n Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris;\n And how, and who, what means, and where they keep,\n What company, at what expense; and finding\n By this encompassment and drift of question\n That they do know my son, come you more nearer\n Than your particular demands will touch it:\n Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him;\n As thus, 'I know his father and his friends,\n And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo?\n\nREYNALDO\n\n Ay, very well, my lord.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n 'And in part him; but' you may say 'not well:\n But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild;\n Addicted so and so:' and there put on him\n What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank\n As may dishonour him; take heed of that;\n But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips\n As are companions noted and most known\n To youth and liberty.\n\nREYNALDO\n\n As gaming, my lord.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling,\n Drabbing: you may go so far.\n\nREYNALDO\n\n My lord, that would dishonour him.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n 'Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge\n You must not put another scandal on him,\n That he is open to incontinency;\n That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly\n That they may seem the taints of liberty,\n The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind,\n A savageness in unreclaimed blood,\n Of general assault.\n\nREYNALDO\n\n But, my good lord,--\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Wherefore should you do this?\n\nREYNALDO\n\n Ay, my lord,\n I would know that.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Marry, sir, here's my drift;\n And I believe, it is a fetch of wit:\n You laying these slight sullies on my son,\n As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, Mark you,\n Your party in converse, him you would sound,\n Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes\n The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured\n He closes with you in this consequence;\n 'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,'\n According to the phrase or the addition\n Of man and country.\n\nREYNALDO\n\n Very good, my lord.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n And then, sir, does he this--he does--what was I\n about to say? By the mass, I was about to say\n something: where did I leave?\n\nREYNALDO\n\n At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,'\n and 'gentleman.'\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n At 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry;\n He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman;\n I saw him yesterday, or t' other day,\n Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say,\n There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse;\n There falling out at tennis:' or perchance,\n 'I saw him enter such a house of sale,'\n Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth.\n See you now;\n Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth:\n And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,\n With windlasses and with assays of bias,\n By indirections find directions out:\n So by my former lecture and advice,\n Shall you my son. You have me, have you not?\n\nREYNALDO\n\n My lord, I have.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n God be wi' you; fare you well.\n\nREYNALDO\n\n Good my lord!\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Observe his inclination in yourself.\n\nREYNALDO\n\n I shall, my lord.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n And let him ply his music.\n\nREYNALDO\n\n Well, my lord.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Farewell!\n\nEXIT REYNALDO\n\nENTER OPHELIA\n\n How now, Ophelia! what's the matter?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n With what, i' the name of God?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n My lord, as I was sewing in my closet,\n Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced;\n No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd,\n Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle;\n Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other;\n And with a look so piteous in purport\n As if he had been loosed out of hell\n To speak of horrors,--he comes before me.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Mad for thy love?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n My lord, I do not know;\n But truly, I do fear it.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n What said he?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n He took me by the wrist and held me hard;\n Then goes he to the length of all his arm;\n And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,\n He falls to such perusal of my face\n As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so;\n At last, a little shaking of mine arm\n And thrice his head thus waving up and down,\n He raised a sigh so piteous and profound\n As it did seem to shatter all his bulk\n And end his being: that done, he lets me go:\n And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,\n He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;\n For out o' doors he went without their helps,\n And, to the last, bended their light on me.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Come, go with me: I will go seek the king.\n This is the very ecstasy of love,\n Whose violent property fordoes itself\n And leads the will to desperate undertakings\n As oft as any passion under heaven\n That does afflict our natures. I am sorry.\n What, have you given him any hard words of late?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n No, my good lord, but, as you did command,\n I did repel his fetters and denied\n His access to me.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n That hath made him mad.\n I am sorry that with better heed and judgment\n I had not quoted him: I fear'd he did but trifle,\n And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jealousy!\n By heaven, it is as proper to our age\n To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions\n As it is common for the younger sort\n To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king:\n This must be known; which, being kept close, might\n move\n More grief to hide than hate to utter love.\n\nEXEUNT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f73e0c44059fa49000019","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":2,"parentId":"3e3f7260c44059fa49000017","content":"## Act 2, Scene 2\n\nClaudius and Gertrude welcome Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, two of Hamlet’s friends. The king and queen have summoned them to Elsinore in the hope that they might be able to cheer Hamlet out of his melancholy, or discover the cause of it.\n\nPolonius enters, announcing the return of the ambassadors to Norway. The aged king of Norway rebuked Fortinbras, who swore he would never attack the Danes, and urged him to attack the Poles instead. He has requested safe passage for Fortinbras’s armies through Denmark. \n\nPolonius declares that Hamlet is in love with Ophelia, and proposes to eavesdrop on them to find out. Claudius agrees. Gertrude sees Hamlet approaching. Gertrude and Claudius exit, leaving Polonius with Hamlet.\n\nPolonius attempts to converse with Hamlet, who appears insane. He hurries away, determined to arrange the meeting between Hamlet and Ophelia. As Polonius leaves, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern enter. They claim they have come to visit Hamlet, but he knows that the king and queen sent for them.\n\nPolonius enters to announce the arrival of a theatrical troupe. Hamlet welcomes them and entreats one of them to give him a speech. He announces that the next night they will hear The Murder of Gonzago performed, with an additional speech that he will write himself. \n\nHamlet leaves, and stands alone. He curses himself for his inability to take action. He devises a trap for Claudius, forcing the king to watch a play whose plot closely resembles the murder of Hamlet’s father. Hamlet reasons that he will obtain definitive proof of Claudius’s guilt by observing his reactions."},{"_id":"3e403ea24f1f3525bd000027","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f73e0c44059fa49000019","content":"## SCENE II. A room in the castle.\n\nENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, AND ATTENDANTS\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!\n Moreover that we much did long to see you,\n The need we have to use you did provoke\n Our hasty sending. Something have you heard\n Of Hamlet's transformation; so call it,\n Sith nor the exterior nor the inward man\n Resembles that it was. What it should be,\n More than his father's death, that thus hath put him\n So much from the understanding of himself,\n I cannot dream of: I entreat you both,\n That, being of so young days brought up with him,\n And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior,\n That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court\n Some little time: so by your companies\n To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather,\n So much as from occasion you may glean,\n Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus,\n That, open'd, lies within our remedy.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you;\n And sure I am two men there are not living\n To whom he more adheres. If it will please you\n To show us so much gentry and good will\n As to expend your time with us awhile,\n For the supply and profit of our hope,\n Your visitation shall receive such thanks\n As fits a king's remembrance.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Both your majesties\n Might, by the sovereign power you have of us,\n Put your dread pleasures more into command\n Than to entreaty.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n But we both obey,\n And here give up ourselves, in the full bent\n To lay our service freely at your feet,\n To be commanded.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz:\n And I beseech you instantly to visit\n My too much changed son. Go, some of you,\n And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Heavens make our presence and our practises\n Pleasant and helpful to him!\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Ay, amen!\n\nEXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, AND SOME ATTENDANTS\n\nENTER POLONIUS\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord,\n Are joyfully return'd.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Thou still hast been the father of good news.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege,\n I hold my duty, as I hold my soul,\n Both to my God and to my gracious king:\n And I do think, or else this brain of mine\n Hunts not the trail of policy so sure\n As it hath used to do, that I have found\n The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n O, speak of that; that do I long to hear.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Give first admittance to the ambassadors;\n My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in.\n\nEXIT POLONIUS\n\n He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found\n The head and source of all your son's distemper.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n I doubt it is no other but the main;\n His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Well, we shall sift him.\n\nRE-ENTER POLONIUS, WITH VOLTIMAND AND CORNELIUS\n Welcome, my good friends!\n Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?\n\nVOLTIMAND\n\n Most fair return of greetings and desires.\n Upon our first, he sent out to suppress\n His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd\n To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack;\n But, better look'd into, he truly found\n It was against your highness: whereat grieved,\n That so his sickness, age and impotence\n Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests\n On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys;\n Receives rebuke from Norway, and in fine\n Makes vow before his uncle never more\n To give the assay of arms against your majesty.\n Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,\n Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee,\n And his commission to employ those soldiers,\n So levied as before, against the Polack:\n With an entreaty, herein further shown,\n\n Giving a paper\n That it might please you to give quiet pass\n Through your dominions for this enterprise,\n On such regards of safety and allowance\n As therein are set down.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n It likes us well;\n And at our more consider'd time well read,\n Answer, and think upon this business.\n Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour:\n Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together:\n Most welcome home!\n\nEXEUNT VOLTIMAND AND CORNELIUS\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n This business is well ended.\n My liege, and madam, to expostulate\n What majesty should be, what duty is,\n Why day is day, night night, and time is time,\n Were nothing but to waste night, day and time.\n Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,\n And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,\n I will be brief: your noble son is mad:\n Mad call I it; for, to define true madness,\n What is't but to be nothing else but mad?\n But let that go.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n More matter, with less art.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Madam, I swear I use no art at all.\n That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity;\n And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure;\n But farewell it, for I will use no art.\n Mad let us grant him, then: and now remains\n That we find out the cause of this effect,\n Or rather say, the cause of this defect,\n For this effect defective comes by cause:\n Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend.\n I have a daughter--have while she is mine--\n Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,\n Hath given me this: now gather, and surmise.\n\nREADS\n\n 'To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most\n beautified Ophelia,'--\n That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is\n a vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus:\n\nREADS\n\n 'In her excellent white bosom, these, & c.'\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Came this from Hamlet to her?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.\n\nREADS \n\n'Doubt thou the stars are fire;\n Doubt that the sun doth move;\n Doubt truth to be a liar;\n But never doubt I love.\n 'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers;\n I have not art to reckon my groans: but that\n I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.\n 'Thine evermore most dear lady, whilst\n this machine is to him, HAMLET.'\n This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me,\n And more above, hath his solicitings,\n As they fell out by time, by means and place,\n All given to mine ear.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n But how hath she\n Received his love?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n What do you think of me?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n As of a man faithful and honourable.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n I would fain prove so. But what might you think,\n When I had seen this hot love on the wing--\n As I perceived it, I must tell you that,\n Before my daughter told me--what might you,\n Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,\n If I had play'd the desk or table-book,\n Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb,\n Or look'd upon this love with idle sight;\n What might you think? No, I went round to work,\n And my young mistress thus I did bespeak:\n 'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star;\n This must not be:' and then I precepts gave her,\n That she should lock herself from his resort,\n Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.\n Which done, she took the fruits of my advice;\n And he, repulsed--a short tale to make--\n Fell into a sadness, then into a fast,\n Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness,\n Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension,\n Into the madness wherein now he raves,\n And all we mourn for.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Do you think 'tis this?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n It may be, very likely.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Hath there been such a time--I'd fain know that--\n That I have positively said 'Tis so,'\n When it proved otherwise?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Not that I know.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n [Pointing to his head and shoulder]\n Take this from this, if this be otherwise:\n If circumstances lead me, I will find\n Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed\n Within the centre.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n How may we try it further?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n You know, sometimes he walks four hours together\n Here in the lobby.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n So he does indeed.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him:\n Be you and I behind an arras then;\n Mark the encounter: if he love her not\n And be not from his reason fall'n thereon,\n Let me be no assistant for a state,\n But keep a farm and carters.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n We will try it.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Away, I do beseech you, both away:\n I'll board him presently.\n\nEXEUNT KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, AND ATTENDANTS\n\nENTER HAMLET, READING\n\n O, give me leave:\n How does my good Lord Hamlet?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Well, God-a-mercy.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Do you know me, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Not I, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Then I would you were so honest a man.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Honest, my lord!\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be\n one man picked out of ten thousand.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n That's very true, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a\n god kissing carrion,--Have you a daughter?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n I have, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a\n blessing: but not as your daughter may conceive.\n Friend, look to 't.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n [Aside] How say you by that? Still harping on my\n daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I\n was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: and\n truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for\n love; very near this. I'll speak to him again.\n What do you read, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Words, words, words.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n What is the matter, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Between who?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here\n that old men have grey beards, that their faces are\n wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and\n plum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack of\n wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir,\n though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet\n I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for\n yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab\n you could go backward.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n [Aside] Though this be madness, yet there is method\n in 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Into my grave.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Indeed, that is out o' the air.\n\n Aside\n How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness\n that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity\n could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will\n leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of\n meeting between him and my daughter.--My honourable\n lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.\n\nHAMLET\n\n You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will\n more willingly part withal: except my life, except\n my life, except my life.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Fare you well, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n These tedious old fools!\n\nENTER ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n [To POLONIUS] God save you, sir!\n\nEXIT POLONIUS\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n My honoured lord!\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n My most dear lord!\n\nHAMLET\n\n My excellent good friends! How dost thou,\n Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n As the indifferent children of the earth.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Happy, in that we are not over-happy;\n On fortune's cap we are not the very button.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nor the soles of her shoe?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Neither, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of\n her favours?\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n 'Faith, her privates we.\n\nHAMLET\n\n In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she\n is a strumpet. What's the news?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Then is doomsday near: but your news is not true.\n Let me question more in particular: what have you,\n my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune,\n that she sends you to prison hither?\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Prison, my lord!\n\nHAMLET\n\n Denmark's a prison.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Then is the world one.\n\nHAMLET\n\n A goodly one; in which there are many confines,\n wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n We think not so, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing\n either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me\n it is a prison.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Why then, your ambition makes it one; 'tis too\n narrow for your mind.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count\n myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I\n have bad dreams.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Which dreams indeed are ambition, for the very\n substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.\n\nHAMLET\n\n A dream itself is but a shadow.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a\n quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and\n outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we\n to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason.\n\nROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN\n\n We'll wait upon you.\n\nHAMLET\n\n No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest\n of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest\n man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the\n beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I\n thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are\n too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it\n your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come,\n deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n What should we say, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, any thing, but to the purpose. You were sent\n for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks\n which your modesties have not craft enough to colour:\n I know the good king and queen have sent for you.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n To what end, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by\n the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of\n our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved\n love, and by what more dear a better proposer could\n charge you withal, be even and direct with me,\n whether you were sent for, or no?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n [Aside to GUILDENSTERN] What say you?\n\nHAMLET\n\n [Aside] Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If you\n love me, hold not off.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n My lord, we were sent for.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation\n prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king\n and queen moult no feather. I have of late--but\n wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all\n custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily\n with my disposition that this goodly frame, the\n earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most\n excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave\n o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted\n with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to\n me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.\n What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!\n how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how\n express and admirable! in action how like an angel!\n in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the\n world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me,\n what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not\n me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling\n you seem to say so.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me'?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what\n lenten entertainment the players shall receive from\n you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they\n coming, to offer you service.\n\nHAMLET\n\n He that plays the king shall be welcome; his majesty\n shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight\n shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not\n sigh gratis; the humourous man shall end his part\n in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose\n lungs are tickled o' the sere; and the lady shall\n say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt\n for't. What players are they?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Even those you were wont to take delight in, the\n tragedians of the city.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How chances it they travel? their residence, both\n in reputation and profit, was better both ways.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n I think their inhibition comes by the means of the\n late innovation.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was\n in the city? are they so followed?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n No, indeed, are they not.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How comes it? do they grow rusty?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but\n there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases,\n that cry out on the top of question, and are most\n tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the\n fashion, and so berattle the common stages--so they\n call them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid of\n goose-quills and dare scarce come thither.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What, are they children? who maintains 'em? how are\n they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no\n longer than they can sing? will they not say\n afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common\n players--as it is most like, if their means are no\n better--their writers do them wrong, to make them\n exclaim against their own succession?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n 'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and\n the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to\n controversy: there was, for a while, no money bid\n for argument, unless the poet and the player went to\n cuffs in the question.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Is't possible?\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n O, there has been much throwing about of brains.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Do the boys carry it away?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too.\n\nHAMLET\n\n It is not very strange; for mine uncle is king of\n Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while\n my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, an\n hundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little.\n 'Sblood, there is something in this more than\n natural, if philosophy could find it out.\n\nFLOURISH OF TRUMPETS WITHIN\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n There are the players.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands,\n come then: the appurtenance of welcome is fashion\n and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb,\n lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you,\n must show fairly outward, should more appear like\n entertainment than yours. You are welcome: but my\n uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n In what, my dear lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is\n southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.\n\nENTER POLONIUS\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Well be with you, gentlemen!\n\nHAMLET\n\n Hark you, Guildenstern; and you too: at each ear a\n hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet\n out of his swaddling-clouts.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Happily he's the second time come to them; for they\n say an old man is twice a child.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players;\n mark it. You say right, sir: o' Monday morning;\n 'twas so indeed.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n My lord, I have news to tell you.\n\nHAMLET\n\n My lord, I have news to tell you.\n When Roscius was an actor in Rome,--\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n The actors are come hither, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Buz, buz!\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Upon mine honour,--\n\nHAMLET\n\n Then came each actor on his ass,--\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n The best actors in the world, either for tragedy,\n comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical,\n historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-\n comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or\n poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor\n Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the\n liberty, these are the only men.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n What a treasure had he, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why,\n 'One fair daughter and no more,\n The which he loved passing well.'\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n [Aside] Still on my daughter.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter\n that I love passing well.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nay, that follows not.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n What follows, then, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why,\n 'As by lot, God wot,'\n and then, you know,\n 'It came to pass, as most like it was,'--\n the first row of the pious chanson will show you\n more; for look, where my abridgement comes.\n\nENTER FOUR OR FIVE PLAYERS\n\n You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am glad\n to see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my old\n friend! thy face is valenced since I saw thee last:\n comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my young\n lady and mistress! By'r lady, your ladyship is\n nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the\n altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like\n apiece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the\n ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en\n to't like French falconers, fly at any thing we see:\n we'll have a speech straight: come, give us a taste\n of your quality; come, a passionate speech.\n\nFIRST PLAYER\n\n What speech, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was\n never acted; or, if it was, not above once; for the\n play, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twas\n caviare to the general: but it was--as I received\n it, and others, whose judgments in such matters\n cried in the top of mine--an excellent play, well\n digested in the scenes, set down with as much\n modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there\n were no sallets in the lines to make the matter\n savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might\n indict the author of affectation; but called it an\n honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very\n much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I\n chiefly loved: 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; and\n thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of\n Priam's slaughter: if it live in your memory, begin\n at this line: let me see, let me see--\n 'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,'--\n it is not so:--it begins with Pyrrhus:--\n 'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms,\n Black as his purpose, did the night resemble\n When he lay couched in the ominous horse,\n Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd\n With heraldry more dismal; head to foot\n Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd\n With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,\n Baked and impasted with the parching streets,\n That lend a tyrannous and damned light\n To their lord's murder: roasted in wrath and fire,\n And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore,\n With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus\n Old grandsire Priam seeks.'\n So, proceed you.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n 'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and\n good discretion.\n\nFIRST PLAYER\n\n 'Anon he finds him\n Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword,\n Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,\n Repugnant to command: unequal match'd,\n Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide;\n But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword\n The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,\n Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top\n Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash\n Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword,\n Which was declining on the milky head\n Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick:\n So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood,\n And like a neutral to his will and matter,\n Did nothing.\n But, as we often see, against some storm,\n A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,\n The bold winds speechless and the orb below\n As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder\n Doth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause,\n Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work;\n And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall\n On Mars's armour forged for proof eterne\n With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword\n Now falls on Priam.\n Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods,\n In general synod 'take away her power;\n Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,\n And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven,\n As low as to the fiends!'\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n This is too long.\n\nHAMLET\n\n It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee,\n say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he\n sleeps: say on: come to Hecuba.\n\nFIRST PLAYER\n\n 'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--'\n\nHAMLET\n\n 'The mobled queen?'\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n That's good; 'mobled queen' is good.\n\nFIRST PLAYER\n\n 'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames\n With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head\n Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe,\n About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins,\n A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;\n Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd,\n 'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have\n pronounced:\n But if the gods themselves did see her then\n When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport\n In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs,\n The instant burst of clamour that she made,\n Unless things mortal move them not at all,\n Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven,\n And passion in the gods.'\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has\n tears in's eyes. Pray you, no more.\n\nHAMLET\n\n 'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon.\n Good my lord, will you see the players well\n bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for\n they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the\n time: after your death you were better have a bad\n epitaph than their ill report while you live.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n My lord, I will use them according to their desert.\n\nHAMLET\n\n God's bodykins, man, much better: use every man\n after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping?\n Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less\n they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.\n Take them in.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Come, sirs.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow.\n\nEXIT POLONIUS WITH ALL THE PLAYERS BUT THE FIRST\n\n Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the\n Murder of Gonzago?\n\nFIRST PLAYER\n\n Ay, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need,\n study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which\n I would set down and insert in't, could you not?\n\nFIRST PLAYER\n\n Ay, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him\n not.\n\nEXIT FIRST PLAYER\n\n My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are\n welcome to Elsinore.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Good my lord!\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, so, God be wi' ye;\n\nEXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\n Now I am alone.\n O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!\n Is it not monstrous that this player here,\n But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,\n Could force his soul so to his own conceit\n That from her working all his visage wann'd,\n Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,\n A broken voice, and his whole function suiting\n With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing!\n For Hecuba!\n What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,\n That he should weep for her? What would he do,\n Had he the motive and the cue for passion\n That I have? He would drown the stage with tears\n And cleave the general ear with horrid speech,\n Make mad the guilty and appal the free,\n Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed\n The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,\n A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,\n Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,\n And can say nothing; no, not for a king,\n Upon whose property and most dear life\n A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?\n Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?\n Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?\n Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat,\n As deep as to the lungs? who does me this?\n Ha!\n 'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be\n But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall\n To make oppression bitter, or ere this\n I should have fatted all the region kites\n With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain!\n Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!\n O, vengeance!\n Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,\n That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,\n Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,\n Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,\n And fall a-cursing, like a very drab,\n A scullion!\n Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard\n That guilty creatures sitting at a play\n Have by the very cunning of the scene\n Been struck so to the soul that presently\n They have proclaim'd their malefactions;\n For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak\n With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players\n Play something like the murder of my father\n Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;\n I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench,\n I know my course. The spirit that I have seen\n May be the devil: and the devil hath power\n To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps\n Out of my weakness and my melancholy,\n As he is very potent with such spirits,\n Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds\n More relative than this: the play 's the thing\n Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.\n\nEXIT"},{"_id":"3e3f75b4c44059fa4900001a","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":3,"parentId":"3f3818e825eed9791a000093","content":"## Act 3\n\nPolonius and Claudius secretly watch a meeting between Hamlet and Ophelia. Hamlet denies any affection for her which confuses Polonius and Claudius. They decide that either Gertrude can get to the root of Hamlet’s “madness” or he will be sent to England.\n\nHamlet directs the actors in a play to depict his father’s murder – he hopes to study Claudius’ reaction. Claudius and Gertrude leave during the performance. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern inform Hamlet that Gertrude wants to speak to him.\n\nWhen alone, Claudius speaks of his conscience and guilt. Hamlet enters from behind and draws his sword to kill Claudius but decides that it would be wrong to kill a man while praying.\n\nHamlet is about reveal Claudius’ villainy to Gertrude when he hears someone behind the curtain. Thinking it is Claudius, he thrusts his sword through the arras – he has killed Polonius. Hamlet reveals all and speaks to the ghost. Gertrude, who cannot see the apparition, is now convinced of Hamlet’s madness. "},{"_id":"3e3f8133c44059fa4900001e","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f75b4c44059fa4900001a","content":"## Act 3, Scene 1\n\nClaudius and Gertrude discuss Hamlet’s behavior with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Rosencrantz, Guildenstern and Gertrude exit, and Polonius directs Ophelia to walk around the lobby. Polonius and the king hide.\n\nHamlet enters, speaking thoughtfully and agonizingly to himself about whether to commit suicide to end the pain of experience. Hamlet sees Ophelia approaching. She tells him that she wishes to return tokens of love he has given her. \n\nAngrily, Hamlet denies having given her anything; he claims both to have loved Ophelia once and never to have loved her at all. As he storms out, Ophelia mourns the “noble mind” that has now lapsed into apparent madness.\n\nThe king and Polonius emerge from behind the tapestry. Claudius says that Hamlet’s behavior has clearly not been caused by love for Ophelia and that he does not seem insane. He will send Hamlet to England, hoping that a change of scenery might help him get over his troubles. \n\nPolonius agrees, but he still believes that Hamlet’s agitation comes from loving Ophelia. He asks Claudius to send Hamlet to Gertrude’s chamber after the play, where he can hide again and watch unseen; he hopes to learn whether Hamlet is really mad with love.\n"},{"_id":"3e4055be4f1f3525bd000028","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f8133c44059fa4900001e","content":"## SCENE I. A room in the castle.\n\nENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, AND GUILDENSTERN \n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n And can you, by no drift of circumstance,\n Get from him why he puts on this confusion,\n Grating so harshly all his days of quiet\n With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n He does confess he feels himself distracted;\n But from what cause he will by no means speak.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,\n But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,\n When we would bring him on to some confession\n Of his true state.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Did he receive you well?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Most like a gentleman.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n But with much forcing of his disposition.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Niggard of question; but, of our demands,\n Most free in his reply.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Did you assay him?\n To any pastime?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Madam, it so fell out, that certain players\n We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him;\n And there did seem in him a kind of joy\n To hear of it: they are about the court,\n And, as I think, they have already order\n This night to play before him.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n 'Tis most true:\n And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties\n To hear and see the matter.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n With all my heart; and it doth much content me\n To hear him so inclined.\n Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,\n And drive his purpose on to these delights.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n We shall, my lord.\n\nEXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Sweet Gertrude, leave us too;\n For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,\n That he, as 'twere by accident, may here\n Affront Ophelia:\n Her father and myself, lawful espials,\n Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen,\n We may of their encounter frankly judge,\n And gather by him, as he is behaved,\n If 't be the affliction of his love or no\n That thus he suffers for.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n I shall obey you.\n And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish\n That your good beauties be the happy cause\n Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues\n Will bring him to his wonted way again,\n To both your honours.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Madam, I wish it may.\n\nEXIT QUEEN GERTRUDE\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you,\n We will bestow ourselves.\n\nTO OPHELIA\n Read on this book;\n That show of such an exercise may colour\n Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,--\n 'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visage\n And pious action we do sugar o'er\n The devil himself.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n [Aside] O, 'tis too true!\n How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!\n The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art,\n Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it\n Than is my deed to my most painted word:\n O heavy burthen!\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord.\n\nEXEUNT KING CLAUDIUS AND POLONIUS\nENTER HAMLET\n\nHAMLET\n\n To be, or not to be: that is the question:\n Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer\n The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,\n Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,\n And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;\n No more; and by a sleep to say we end\n The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks\n That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation\n Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;\n To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;\n For in that sleep of death what dreams may come\n When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,\n Must give us pause: there's the respect\n That makes calamity of so long life;\n For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,\n The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,\n The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,\n The insolence of office and the spurns\n That patient merit of the unworthy takes,\n When he himself might his quietus make\n With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,\n To grunt and sweat under a weary life,\n But that the dread of something after death,\n The undiscover'd country from whose bourn\n No traveller returns, puzzles the will\n And makes us rather bear those ills we have\n Than fly to others that we know not of?\n Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;\n And thus the native hue of resolution\n Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,\n And enterprises of great pith and moment\n With this regard their currents turn awry,\n And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!\n The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons\n Be all my sins remember'd.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Good my lord,\n How does your honour for this many a day?\n\nHAMLET\n\n I humbly thank you; well, well, well.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n My lord, I have remembrances of yours,\n That I have longed long to re-deliver;\n I pray you, now receive them.\n\nHAMLET\n\n No, not I;\n I never gave you aught.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n My honour'd lord, you know right well you did;\n And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed\n As made the things more rich: their perfume lost,\n Take these again; for to the noble mind\n Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.\n There, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ha, ha! are you honest?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n My lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Are you fair?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n What means your lordship?\n\nHAMLET\n\n That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should\n admit no discourse to your beauty.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than\n with honesty?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner\n transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the\n force of honesty can translate beauty into his\n likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the\n time gives it proof. I did love you once.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.\n\nHAMLET\n\n You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot\n so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of\n it: I loved you not.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n I was the more deceived.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a\n breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest;\n but yet I could accuse me of such things that it\n were better my mother had not borne me: I am very\n proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at\n my beck than I have thoughts to put them in,\n imagination to give them shape, or time to act them\n in. What should such fellows as I do crawling\n between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves,\n all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.\n Where's your father?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n At home, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the\n fool no where but in's own house. Farewell.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n O, help him, you sweet heavens!\n\nHAMLET\n\n If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for\n thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as\n snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a\n nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs\n marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough\n what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go,\n and quickly too. Farewell.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n O heavenly powers, restore him!\n\nHAMLET\n\n I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God\n has given you one face, and you make yourselves\n another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and\n nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness\n your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath\n made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages:\n those that are married already, all but one, shall\n live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a\n nunnery, go.\n\nEXIT\n\nOPHELIA\n\n O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!\n The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword;\n The expectancy and rose of the fair state,\n The glass of fashion and the mould of form,\n The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!\n And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,\n That suck'd the honey of his music vows,\n Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,\n Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;\n That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth\n Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me,\n To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!\n\nRE-ENTER KING CLAUDIUS AND POLONIUS\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Love! his affections do not that way tend;\n Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,\n Was not like madness. There's something in his soul,\n O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;\n And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose\n Will be some danger: which for to prevent,\n I have in quick determination\n Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England,\n For the demand of our neglected tribute\n Haply the seas and countries different\n With variable objects shall expel\n This something-settled matter in his heart,\n Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus\n From fashion of himself. What think you on't?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n It shall do well: but yet do I believe\n The origin and commencement of his grief\n Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia!\n You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said;\n We heard it all. My lord, do as you please;\n But, if you hold it fit, after the play\n Let his queen mother all alone entreat him\n To show his grief: let her be round with him;\n And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear\n Of all their conference. If she find him not,\n To England send him, or confine him where\n Your wisdom best shall think.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n It shall be so:\n Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go.\n\nEXEUNT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f841fc44059fa4900001f","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":2,"parentId":"3e3f75b4c44059fa4900001a","content":"## Act 3, Scene 2\n\nThat evening, Hamlet lectures the players on how to act parts he has written for them. Horatio enters, and Hamlet praises him heartily. Having told Horatio what he learned from the ghost, he now asks him to watch Claudius during the play.\n\nThe audience of lords and ladies begins streaming into the room. Hamlet warns Horatio that he will begin to act strangely so as to appear mad, and proceeds to do so.\n\nThe players enter and act out a brief “dumbshow.” In the dumbshow, a king and queen display their love. While the king is sleeping, a man murders him by pouring poison into his ear. The murderer seduces the queen, who gradually accepts his advances.\n\nThe players enact the play in full. Hamlet keeps up a running commentary, and teases Ophelia with oblique sexual references. When the murderer pours the poison into the king’s ear, Claudius rises and cries out. Chaos ensues as the king flees, followed by the audience.\n\nHamlet and Horatio agree that the king’s behavior was telling. Hamlet continues to act frantic and scatterbrained, speaking glibly and inventing little poems. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern arrive to tell Hamlet that he is wanted in his mother’s chambers. \n\nPolonius enters to escort Hamlet to the queen. Hamlet asks for a moment alone. He steels himself to speak to his mother, resolving to be brutally honest with her but not to lose control of himself."},{"_id":"3e405de04f1f3525bd000029","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f841fc44059fa4900001f","content":"## SCENE II. A hall in the castle.\n\nENTER HAMLET AND PLAYERS\n\nHAMLET\n\n Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to\n you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it,\n as many of your players do, I had as lief the\n town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air\n too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently;\n for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say,\n the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget\n a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it\n offends me to the soul to hear a robustious\n periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to\n very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who\n for the most part are capable of nothing but\n inexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have such\n a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it\n out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.\n\nFIRST PLAYER\n\n I warrant your honour.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion\n be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the\n word to the action; with this special o'erstep not\n the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is\n from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the\n first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the\n mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature,\n scorn her own image, and the very age and body of\n the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone,\n or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful\n laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the\n censure of the which one must in your allowance\n o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be\n players that I have seen play, and heard others\n praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely,\n that, neither having the accent of Christians nor\n the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so\n strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of\n nature's journeymen had made men and not made them\n well, they imitated humanity so abominably.\n\nFIRST PLAYER\n\n I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us,\n sir.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O, reform it altogether. And let those that play\n your clowns speak no more than is set down for them;\n for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to\n set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh\n too; though, in the mean time, some necessary\n question of the play be then to be considered:\n that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition\n in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready.\n\nEXEUNT PLAYERS\n\nENTER POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, AND GUILDENSTERN\n\n How now, my lord! I will the king hear this piece of work?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n And the queen too, and that presently.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Bid the players make haste.\n\nEXIT POLONIUS\n Will you two help to hasten them?\n\nROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN\n\n We will, my lord.\n\nEXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\nHAMLET\n\n What ho! Horatio!\n\nENTER HORATIO\n\nHORATIO\n\n Here, sweet lord, at your service.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man\n As e'er my conversation coped withal.\n\nHORATIO\n\n O, my dear lord,--\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nay, do not think I flatter;\n For what advancement may I hope from thee\n That no revenue hast but thy good spirits,\n To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd?\n No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,\n And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee\n Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?\n Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice\n And could of men distinguish, her election\n Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been\n As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing,\n A man that fortune's buffets and rewards\n Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those\n Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled,\n That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger\n To sound what stop she please. Give me that man\n That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him\n In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,\n As I do thee.--Something too much of this.--\n There is a play to-night before the king;\n One scene of it comes near the circumstance\n Which I have told thee of my father's death:\n I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,\n Even with the very comment of thy soul\n Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt\n Do not itself unkennel in one speech,\n It is a damned ghost that we have seen,\n And my imaginations are as foul\n As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note;\n For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,\n And after we will both our judgments join\n In censure of his seeming.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Well, my lord:\n If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing,\n And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft.\n\nHAMLET\n\n They are coming to the play; I must be idle:\n Get you a place.\n\nDANISH MARCH. A FLOURISH. ENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, AND OTHERS\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n How fares our cousin Hamlet?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eat\n the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words\n are not mine.\n\nHAMLET\n\n No, nor mine now.\n\nTO POLONIUS\n\n My lord, you played once i' the university, you say?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n That did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What did you enact?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n I did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' the\n Capitol; Brutus killed me.\n\nHAMLET\n\n It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. Be the players ready?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.\n\nHAMLET\n\n No, good mother, here's metal more attractive.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n [To KING CLAUDIUS] O, ho! do you mark that?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Lady, shall I lie in your lap?\n\n Lying down at OPHELIA's feet\n\nOPHELIA\n\n No, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I mean, my head upon your lap?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Ay, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Do you think I meant country matters?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n I think nothing, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n What is, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nothing.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n You are merry, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Who, I?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Ay, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do\n but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my\n mother looks, and my father died within these two hours.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for\n I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two\n months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's\n hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half\n a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches,\n then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with\n the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is 'For, O, for, O,\n the hobby-horse is forgot.'\n\nHAUTBOYS PLAY. THE DUMB-SHOW ENTERS.\n\n Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love.\n\nEXEUNT.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n What means this, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Belike this show imports the argument of the play.\n\nENTER PROLOGUE\n\nHAMLET\n\n We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot\n keep counsel; they'll tell all.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Will he tell us what this show meant?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, or any show that you'll show him: be not you\n ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n You are naught, you are naught: I'll mark the play.\n\nPROLOGUE\n\n For us, and for our tragedy,\n Here stooping to your clemency,\n We beg your hearing patiently.\n\nEXIT\n\nHAMLET\n\n Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n 'Tis brief, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n As woman's love.\n\nENTER TWO PLAYERS, KING AND QUEEN\n\nPLAYER KING\n\n Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round\n Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground,\n And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheen\n About the world have times twelve thirties been,\n Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands\n Unite commutual in most sacred bands.\n\nPLAYER QUEEN\n\n So many journeys may the sun and moon\n Make us again count o'er ere love be done!\n But, woe is me, you are so sick of late,\n So far from cheer and from your former state,\n That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,\n Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must:\n For women's fear and love holds quantity;\n In neither aught, or in extremity.\n Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know;\n And as my love is sized, my fear is so:\n Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;\n Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.\n\nPLAYER KING\n\n 'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too;\n My operant powers their functions leave to do:\n And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,\n Honour'd, beloved; and haply one as kind\n For husband shalt thou--\n\nPLAYER QUEEN\n\n O, confound the rest!\n Such love must needs be treason in my breast:\n In second husband let me be accurst!\n None wed the second but who kill'd the first.\n\nHAMLET\n\n [Aside] Wormwood, wormwood.\n\nPLAYER QUEEN\n\n The instances that second marriage move\n Are base respects of thrift, but none of love:\n A second time I kill my husband dead,\n When second husband kisses me in bed.\n\nPLAYER KING\n\n I do believe you think what now you speak;\n But what we do determine oft we break.\n Purpose is but the slave to memory,\n Of violent birth, but poor validity;\n Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree;\n But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be.\n Most necessary 'tis that we forget\n To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt:\n What to ourselves in passion we propose,\n The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.\n The violence of either grief or joy\n Their own enactures with themselves destroy:\n Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;\n Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.\n This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange\n That even our loves should with our fortunes change;\n For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,\n Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.\n The great man down, you mark his favourite flies;\n The poor advanced makes friends of enemies.\n And hitherto doth love on fortune tend;\n For who not needs shall never lack a friend,\n And who in want a hollow friend doth try,\n Directly seasons him his enemy.\n But, orderly to end where I begun,\n Our wills and fates do so contrary run\n That our devices still are overthrown;\n Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own:\n So think thou wilt no second husband wed;\n But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.\n\nPLAYER QUEEN\n\n Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light!\n Sport and repose lock from me day and night!\n To desperation turn my trust and hope!\n An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope!\n Each opposite that blanks the face of joy\n Meet what I would have well and it destroy!\n Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,\n If, once a widow, ever I be wife!\n\nHAMLET\n\n If she should break it now!\n\nPLAYER KING\n\n 'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile;\n My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile\n The tedious day with sleep.\n\nSLEEPS\n\nPLAYER QUEEN\n\n Sleep rock thy brain,\n And never come mischance between us twain!\n\nEXIT\n\nHAMLET\n\n Madam, how like you this play?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n The lady protests too much, methinks.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O, but she'll keep her word.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't?\n\nHAMLET\n\n No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence\n i' the world.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n What do you call the play?\n\nHAMLET\n\n The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play\n is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is\n the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see\n anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: but what o'\n that? your majesty and we that have free souls, it\n touches us not: let the galled jade wince, our\n withers are unwrung.\n\nENTER LUCIANUS\n\n This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n You are as good as a chorus, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I could interpret between you and your love, if I\n could see the puppets dallying.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n You are keen, my lord, you are keen.\n\nHAMLET\n\n It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Still better, and worse.\n\nHAMLET\n\n So you must take your husbands. Begin, murderer;\n pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come:\n 'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.'\n\nLUCIANUS\n\n Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing;\n Confederate season, else no creature seeing;\n Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,\n With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,\n Thy natural magic and dire property,\n On wholesome life usurp immediately.\n\n Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears\n\nHAMLET\n\n He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His\n name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and writ in\n choice Italian: you shall see anon how the murderer\n gets the love of Gonzago's wife.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n The king rises.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What, frighted with false fire!\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n How fares my lord?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Give o'er the play.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Give me some light: away!\n\nALL\n\n Lights, lights, lights!\n\nEXEUNT ALL BUT HAMLET AND HORATIO\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, let the stricken deer go weep,\n The hart ungalled play;\n For some must watch, while some must sleep:\n So runs the world away.\n Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers-- if\n the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me--with two\n Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a\n fellowship in a cry of players, sir?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Half a share.\n\nHAMLET\n\n A whole one, I.\n For thou dost know, O Damon dear,\n This realm dismantled was\n Of Jove himself; and now reigns here\n A very, very--pajock.\n\nHORATIO\n\n You might have rhymed.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a\n thousand pound. Didst perceive?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Very well, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Upon the talk of the poisoning?\n\nHORATIO\n\n I did very well note him.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ah, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders!\n For if the king like not the comedy,\n Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy.\n Come, some music!\n\nRE-ENTER ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Sir, a whole history.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n The king, sir,--\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, sir, what of him?\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Is in his retirement marvellous distempered.\n\nHAMLET\n\n With drink, sir?\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n No, my lord, rather with choler.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Your wisdom should show itself more richer to\n signify this to his doctor; for, for me to put him\n to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far\n more choler.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame and\n start not so wildly from my affair.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I am tame, sir: pronounce.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of\n spirit, hath sent me to you.\n\nHAMLET\n\n You are welcome.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right\n breed. If it shall please you to make me a\n wholesome answer, I will do your mother's\n commandment: if not, your pardon and my return\n shall be the end of my business.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Sir, I cannot.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n What, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but,\n sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command;\n or, rather, as you say, my mother: therefore no\n more, but to the matter: my mother, you say,--\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Then thus she says; your behavior hath struck her\n into amazement and admiration.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But\n is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's\n admiration? Impart.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you\n go to bed.\n\nHAMLET\n\n We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have\n you any further trade with us?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n My lord, you once did love me.\n\nHAMLET\n\n So I do still, by these pickers and stealers.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you\n do, surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, if\n you deny your griefs to your friend.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Sir, I lack advancement.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n How can that be, when you have the voice of the king\n himself for your succession in Denmark?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, but sir, 'While the grass grows,'--the proverb\n is something musty.\n\n Re-enter Players with recorders\n O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw with\n you:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me,\n as if you would drive me into a toil?\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too\n unmannerly.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I do not well understand that. Will you play upon\n this pipe?\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n My lord, I cannot.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I pray you.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n Believe me, I cannot.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I do beseech you.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n I know no touch of it, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n 'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with\n your fingers and thumb, give it breath with your\n mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music.\n Look you, these are the stops.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n But these cannot I command to any utterance of\n harmony; I have not the skill.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of\n me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know\n my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my\n mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to\n the top of my compass: and there is much music,\n excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot\n you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am\n easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what\n instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you\n cannot play upon me.\n\nENTER POLONIUS\n\n God bless you, sir!\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n My lord, the queen would speak with you, and\n presently.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Methinks it is like a weasel.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n It is backed like a weasel.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Or like a whale?\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n Very like a whale.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Then I will come to my mother by and by. They fool\n me to the top of my bent. I will come by and by.\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n I will say so.\n\nHAMLET\n\n By and by is easily said.\n\nEXIT POLONIUS\n\n Leave me, friends.\n\nEXEUNT ALL BUT HAMLET\n\n Tis now the very witching time of night,\n When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out\n Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood,\n And do such bitter business as the day\n Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother.\n O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever\n The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom:\n Let me be cruel, not unnatural:\n I will speak daggers to her, but use none;\n My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites;\n How in my words soever she be shent,\n To give them seals never, my soul, consent!\n\nEXIT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f85c2c44059fa49000020","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":3,"parentId":"3e3f75b4c44059fa4900001a","content":"## Act 3, Scene 3\n\nKing Claudius speaks to Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Claudius asks the pair to escort Hamlet on a voyage to England and to depart immediately. Polonius promises to tell Claudius all that he learns from spying on Hamlet and Gertrude. When the king is alone, he expresses his guilt and begins to pray.\n\nHamlet slips quietly into the room and steels himself to kill the unseeing Claudius. He realizes that if he kills Claudius while he is praying, he will send Claudius’s soul to heaven. This is hardly an adequate revenge. Hamlet decides to wait, resolving to kill Claudius when the king is sinning. Hamlet leaves.\n"},{"_id":"3e4073474f1f3525bd00002a","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f85c2c44059fa49000020","content":"## SCENE III. A room in the castle.\n\nENTER KING CLAUDIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, AND GUILDENSTERN \n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n I like him not, nor stands it safe with us\n To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;\n I your commission will forthwith dispatch,\n And he to England shall along with you:\n The terms of our estate may not endure\n Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow\n Out of his lunacies.\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n We will ourselves provide:\n Most holy and religious fear it is\n To keep those many many bodies safe\n That live and feed upon your majesty.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n The single and peculiar life is bound,\n With all the strength and armour of the mind,\n To keep itself from noyance; but much more\n That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest\n The lives of many. The cease of majesty\n Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw\n What's near it with it: it is a massy wheel,\n Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount,\n To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things\n Are mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls,\n Each small annexment, petty consequence,\n Attends the boisterous ruin. Never alone\n Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;\n For we will fetters put upon this fear,\n Which now goes too free-footed.\n\nROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN\n\n We will haste us.\n\nEXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\nENTER POLONIUS\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n My lord, he's going to his mother's closet:\n Behind the arras I'll convey myself,\n To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home:\n And, as you said, and wisely was it said,\n 'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,\n Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear\n The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege:\n I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,\n And tell you what I know.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Thanks, dear my lord.\n\nEXIT POLONIUS\n\n O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven;\n It hath the primal eldest curse upon't,\n A brother's murder. Pray can I not,\n Though inclination be as sharp as will:\n My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent;\n And, like a man to double business bound,\n I stand in pause where I shall first begin,\n And both neglect. What if this cursed hand\n Were thicker than itself with brother's blood,\n Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens\n To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy\n But to confront the visage of offence?\n And what's in prayer but this two-fold force,\n To be forestalled ere we come to fall,\n Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up;\n My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer\n Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'?\n That cannot be; since I am still possess'd\n Of those effects for which I did the murder,\n My crown, mine own ambition and my queen.\n May one be pardon'd and retain the offence?\n In the corrupted currents of this world\n Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice,\n And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself\n Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above;\n There is no shuffling, there the action lies\n In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd,\n Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,\n To give in evidence. What then? what rests?\n Try what repentance can: what can it not?\n Yet what can it when one can not repent?\n O wretched state! O bosom black as death!\n O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,\n Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay!\n Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel,\n Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe!\n All may be well.\n\nRETIRES AND KNEELS\n\nENTER HAMLET\n\nHAMLET\n\n Now might I do it pat, now he is praying;\n And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven;\n And so am I revenged. That would be scann'd:\n A villain kills my father; and for that,\n I, his sole son, do this same villain send\n To heaven.\n O, this is hire and salary, not revenge.\n He took my father grossly, full of bread;\n With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;\n And how his audit stands who knows save heaven?\n But in our circumstance and course of thought,\n 'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged,\n To take him in the purging of his soul,\n When he is fit and season'd for his passage?\n No!\n Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent:\n When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage,\n Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed;\n At gaming, swearing, or about some act\n That has no relish of salvation in't;\n Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,\n And that his soul may be as damn'd and black\n As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays:\n This physic but prolongs thy sickly days.\n\nEXIT\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n [Rising] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:\n Words without thoughts never to heaven go.\n\nEXIT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f87cfc44059fa49000021","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":4,"parentId":"3e3f75b4c44059fa4900001a","content":"## Act 3, Scene 4\n\nIn Gertrude’s chamber, the queen and Polonius wait for Hamlet. Polonius urges the queen to be harsh with Hamlet. Gertrude agrees, and Polonius hides behind an arras (tapestry).\n\nHamlet storms into the room. Gertrude says that he has offended his father, meaning his stepfather, Claudius. He interrupts her to say that she has offended his true father, King Hamlet. Fearing for her life, Gertrude cries out. \n\nPolonius calls out for help. Hamlet, suspecting that it might be Claudius behind the arras, draws his sword and stabs it, killing Polonius. \n\nHamlet lifts the arras and discovers Polonius’s body. He bids the old man farewell and turns to his mother. He shows her pictures of the dead king and of the current king, and asks her what has driven her to marry Claudius. \n\nShe pleads with him to stop. Hamlet continues to denounce her, until the ghost of his father appears to remind Hamlet of his purpose. Hamlet speaks to the apparition, but Gertrude can't see it and believes him to be mad.\n\nHamlet tries desperately to convince Gertrude that he is not mad, and he urges her to forsake Claudius. He asks her not to reveal that his madness has been an act. Gertrude, still shaken, agrees to keep his secret. \n\nHamlet reminds his mother that he must sail to England with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, whom he says he will regard with suspicion. Dragging Polonius’s body behind him, Hamlet leaves his mother’s room."},{"_id":"3e40787a4f1f3525bd00002b","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f87cfc44059fa49000021","content":"## SCENE IV. The Queen's closet.\nENTER QUEEN GERTRUDE AND POLONIUS \n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n He will come straight. Look you lay home to him:\n Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,\n And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between\n Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here.\n Pray you, be round with him.\n\nHAMLET\n\n [Within] Mother, mother, mother!\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n I'll warrant you,\n Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming.\n\nPOLONIUS HIDES BEHIND THE ARRAS\n\nENTER HAMLET\n\nHAMLET\n\n Now, mother, what's the matter?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Mother, you have my father much offended.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Why, how now, Hamlet!\n\nHAMLET\n\n What's the matter now?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Have you forgot me?\n\nHAMLET\n\n No, by the rood, not so:\n You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;\n And--would it were not so!--you are my mother.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge;\n You go not till I set you up a glass\n Where you may see the inmost part of you.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?\n Help, help, ho!\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n [Behind] What, ho! help, help, help!\n\nHAMLET\n\n [Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!\n\n Makes a pass through the arras\n\nLORD POLONIUS\n\n [Behind] O, I am slain!\n\n Falls and dies\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n O me, what hast thou done?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nay, I know not:\n Is it the king?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!\n\nHAMLET\n\n A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother,\n As kill a king, and marry with his brother.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n As kill a king!\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, lady, 'twas my word.\n\nLIFTS UP THE ARRAS AND DISCOVERS POLONIUS\n\n Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!\n I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune;\n Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.\n Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down,\n And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,\n If it be made of penetrable stuff,\n If damned custom have not brass'd it so\n That it is proof and bulwark against sense.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue\n In noise so rude against me?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Such an act\n That blurs the grace and blush of modesty,\n Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose\n From the fair forehead of an innocent love\n And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows\n As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed\n As from the body of contraction plucks\n The very soul, and sweet religion makes\n A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow:\n Yea, this solidity and compound mass,\n With tristful visage, as against the doom,\n Is thought-sick at the act.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Ay me, what act,\n That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Look here, upon this picture, and on this,\n The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.\n See, what a grace was seated on this brow;\n Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;\n An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;\n A station like the herald Mercury\n New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;\n A combination and a form indeed,\n Where every god did seem to set his seal,\n To give the world assurance of a man:\n This was your husband. Look you now, what follows:\n Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,\n Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?\n Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,\n And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?\n You cannot call it love; for at your age\n The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,\n And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment\n Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,\n Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense\n Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,\n Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd\n But it reserved some quantity of choice,\n To serve in such a difference. What devil was't\n That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?\n Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,\n Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,\n Or but a sickly part of one true sense\n Could not so mope.\n O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,\n If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,\n To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,\n And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame\n When the compulsive ardour gives the charge,\n Since frost itself as actively doth burn\n And reason panders will.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n O Hamlet, speak no more:\n Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;\n And there I see such black and grained spots\n As will not leave their tinct.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nay, but to live\n In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,\n Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love\n Over the nasty sty,--\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n O, speak to me no more;\n These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears;\n No more, sweet Hamlet!\n\nHAMLET\n\n A murderer and a villain;\n A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe\n Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;\n A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,\n That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,\n And put it in his pocket!\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n No more!\n\nHAMLET\n\n A king of shreds and patches,--\n\nENTER GHOST\n\n Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,\n You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Alas, he's mad!\n\nHAMLET\n\n Do you not come your tardy son to chide,\n That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by\n The important acting of your dread command? O, say!\n\nGHOST\n\n Do not forget: this visitation\n Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.\n But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:\n O, step between her and her fighting soul:\n Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works:\n Speak to her, Hamlet.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How is it with you, lady?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Alas, how is't with you,\n That you do bend your eye on vacancy\n And with the incorporal air do hold discourse?\n Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;\n And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,\n Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,\n Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son,\n Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper\n Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?\n\nHAMLET\n\n On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!\n His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,\n Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;\n Lest with this piteous action you convert\n My stern effects: then what I have to do\n Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n To whom do you speak this?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Do you see nothing there?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nor did you nothing hear?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n No, nothing but ourselves.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, look you there! look, how it steals away!\n My father, in his habit as he lived!\n Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!\n\nEXIT GHOST\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n This the very coinage of your brain:\n This bodiless creation ecstasy\n Is very cunning in.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ecstasy!\n My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,\n And makes as healthful music: it is not madness\n That I have utter'd: bring me to the test,\n And I the matter will re-word; which madness\n Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,\n Lay not that mattering unction to your soul,\n That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:\n It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,\n Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,\n Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;\n Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;\n And do not spread the compost on the weeds,\n To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;\n For in the fatness of these pursy times\n Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg,\n Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O, throw away the worser part of it,\n And live the purer with the other half.\n Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed;\n Assume a virtue, if you have it not.\n That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,\n Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,\n That to the use of actions fair and good\n He likewise gives a frock or livery,\n That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night,\n And that shall lend a kind of easiness\n To the next abstinence: the next more easy;\n For use almost can change the stamp of nature,\n And either [ ] the devil, or throw him out\n With wondrous potency. Once more, good night:\n And when you are desirous to be bless'd,\n I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,\n\nPOINTING TO POLONIUS\n\n I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so,\n To punish me with this and this with me,\n That I must be their scourge and minister.\n I will bestow him, and will answer well\n The death I gave him. So, again, good night.\n I must be cruel, only to be kind:\n Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.\n One word more, good lady.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n What shall I do?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Not this, by no means, that I bid you do:\n Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed;\n Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;\n And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,\n Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,\n Make you to ravel all this matter out,\n That I essentially am not in madness,\n But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;\n For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,\n Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,\n Such dear concernings hide? who would do so?\n No, in despite of sense and secrecy,\n Unpeg the basket on the house's top.\n Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape,\n To try conclusions, in the basket creep,\n And break your own neck down.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Be thou assured, if words be made of breath,\n And breath of life, I have no life to breathe\n What thou hast said to me.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I must to England; you know that?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Alack,\n I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on.\n\nHAMLET\n\n There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows,\n Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd,\n They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way,\n And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;\n For 'tis the sport to have the engineer\n Hoist with his own petard: and 't shall go hard\n But I will delve one yard below their mines,\n And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet,\n When in one line two crafts directly meet.\n This man shall set me packing:\n I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room.\n Mother, good night. Indeed this counsellor\n Is now most still, most secret and most grave,\n Who was in life a foolish prating knave.\n Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.\n Good night, mother.\n\nEXEUNT SEVERALLY; HAMLET DRAGGING IN POLONIUS"},{"_id":"3e3f76f3c44059fa4900001b","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":4,"parentId":"3f3818e825eed9791a000093","content":"## Act 4\n\nClaudius decides to send Hamlet to England. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern ask Hamlet what he has done with Polonius’ body. Hamlet scorns them for their loyalty to Claudius. Claudius demands that Hamlet reveals the location of the body and informs him that he will be sent to England.\n\nFortinbras sends a message to Claudius that he will be marching on his land. He encounters Hamlet, who considers humanity’s capacity for violence, and decides to be more brutal in his revenge.\n\nClaudius thinks that Ophelia is suffering from grief following the death of her father, as she is behaving strangely. Laertes discovers that his father is dead. A sailor gives Horatio a letter from Hamlet explaining that he has been captured by pirates en route to England.\n\nLaertes wants to avenge the death of his father and strikes a deal with Claudius. Laertes will stab Hamlet with a poisoned rapier and Claudius is to have a standby cup of poison prepared. Gertrude reports that Ophelia has drowned herself. "},{"_id":"3e3f8a7dc44059fa49000023","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":2873441,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f76f3c44059fa4900001b","content":"## Act 4, Scene 1\n\nFrantic after her confrontation with Hamlet, Gertrude hurries to Claudius, who is conferring with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. She asks to speak to the king alone. \n\nWhen Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exit, she tells Claudius about her encounter with Hamlet. She says that he is mad; she also tells Claudius that Hamlet has killed Polonius. \n\nClaudius wonders aloud how he will be able to handle this public crisis. He tells Gertrude that they must ship Hamlet to England and explain Hamlet’s misdeed to the court and to the people. He calls Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, tells them about the murder, and sends them to find Hamlet."},{"_id":"3e4081b04f1f3525bd00002c","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f8a7dc44059fa49000023","content":"## SCENE I. A room in the castle.\n\nENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, AND GUILDENSTERN \n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves:\n You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them.\n Where is your son?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Bestow this place on us a little while.\n\nEXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\n Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night!\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend\n Which is the mightier: in his lawless fit,\n Behind the arras hearing something stir,\n Whips out his rapier, cries, 'A rat, a rat!'\n And, in this brainish apprehension, kills\n The unseen good old man.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n O heavy deed!\n It had been so with us, had we been there:\n His liberty is full of threats to all;\n To you yourself, to us, to every one.\n Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd?\n It will be laid to us, whose providence\n Should have kept short, restrain'd and out of haunt,\n This mad young man: but so much was our love,\n We would not understand what was most fit;\n But, like the owner of a foul disease,\n To keep it from divulging, let it feed\n Even on the pith of Life. Where is he gone?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n To draw apart the body he hath kill'd:\n O'er whom his very madness, like some ore\n Among a mineral of metals base,\n Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n O Gertrude, come away!\n The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch,\n But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed\n We must, with all our majesty and skill,\n Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern!\n\nRE-ENTER ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\n Friends both, go join you with some further aid:\n Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,\n And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him:\n Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body\n Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this.\n\nEXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\n Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends;\n And let them know, both what we mean to do,\n And what's untimely done. O, come away!\n My soul is full of discord and dismay.\n\nEXEUNT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f8cbac44059fa49000024","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":2,"parentId":"3e3f76f3c44059fa4900001b","content":"## Act 4, Scene 2\n\nElsewhere in Elsinore, Hamlet has just finished disposing of Polonius’s body. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern appear and ask what he has done with the body. Hamlet refuses to give them a straight answer. \n\nFeigning offense at being questioned, he accuses them of being spies in the service of Claudius. At last he agrees to allow Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to escort him to Claudius."},{"_id":"3e4086a54f1f3525bd00002d","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f8cbac44059fa49000024","content":"## SCENE II. Another room in the castle.\n\nENTER HAMLET \n\nHAMLET\n\n Safely stowed.\n\nROSENCRANTZ: GUILDENSTERN:\n\n [Within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!\n\nHAMLET\n\n What noise? who calls on Hamlet?\n O, here they come.\n\nENTER ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence\n And bear it to the chapel.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Do not believe it.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Believe what?\n\nHAMLET\n\n That I can keep your counsel and not mine own.\n Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! what\n replication should be made by the son of a king?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Take you me for a sponge, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, his\n rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the\n king best service in the end: he keeps them, like\n an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to\n be last swallowed: when he needs what you have\n gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you\n shall be dry again.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n I understand you not, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a\n foolish ear.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go\n with us to the king.\n\nHAMLET\n\n The body is with the king, but the king is not with\n the body. The king is a thing--\n\nGUILDENSTERN\n\n A thing, my lord!\n\nHAMLET\n\n Of nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after.\n\nEXEUNT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f8df8c44059fa49000025","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":3,"parentId":"3e3f76f3c44059fa4900001b","content":"## Act 4, Scene 3\n\nThe king speaks to a group of attendants, telling them of Polonius’s death and his intention to send Hamlet to England. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern appear with Hamlet, who is under guard. \n\nPressed by Claudius to reveal the location of Polonius’s body, Hamlet is by turns inane, coy, and clever. Finally, Hamlet reveals that Polonius’s body is under the stairs near the castle lobby, and the king dispatches his attendants to look there. \n\nThe king tells Hamlet that he must leave at once for England, and Hamlet enthusiastically agrees. Alone with his thoughts, Claudius states his hope that England will obey the sealed orders he has sent with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. The orders call for Prince Hamlet to be put to death."},{"_id":"3e4088fd4f1f3525bd00002e","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f8df8c44059fa49000025","content":"## SCENE III. Another room in the castle.\n\nENTER KING CLAUDIUS, ATTENDED\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n I have sent to seek him, and to find the body.\n How dangerous is it that this man goes loose!\n Yet must not we put the strong law on him:\n He's loved of the distracted multitude,\n Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;\n And where tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd,\n But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even,\n This sudden sending him away must seem\n Deliberate pause: diseases desperate grown\n By desperate appliance are relieved,\n Or not at all.\n\nENTER ROSENCRANTZ\n\n How now! what hath befall'n?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord,\n We cannot get from him.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n But where is he?\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Bring him before us.\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord.\n\nENTER HAMLET AND GUILDENSTERN\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?\n\nHAMLET\n\n At supper.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n At supper! where?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain\n convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your\n worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all\n creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for\n maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but\n variable service, two dishes, but to one table:\n that's the end.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Alas, alas!\n\nHAMLET\n\n A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a\n king, and cat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n What dost you mean by this?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nothing but to show you how a king may go a\n progress through the guts of a beggar.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Where is Polonius?\n\nHAMLET\n\n In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger\n find him not there, seek him i' the other place\n yourself. But indeed, if you find him not within\n this month, you shall nose him as you go up the\n stairs into the lobby.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Go seek him there.\n\n To some Attendants\n\nHAMLET\n\n He will stay till ye come.\n\n Exeunt Attendants\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,--\n Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve\n For that which thou hast done,--must send thee hence\n With fiery quickness: therefore prepare thyself;\n The bark is ready, and the wind at help,\n The associates tend, and every thing is bent\n For England.\n\nHAMLET\n\n For England!\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Ay, Hamlet.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Good.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for\n England! Farewell, dear mother.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Thy loving father, Hamlet.\n\nHAMLET\n\n My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man\n and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England!\n\nEXIT\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard;\n Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night:\n Away! for every thing is seal'd and done\n That else leans on the affair: pray you, make haste.\n\nEXEUNT ROSENCRANTZ AND GUILDENSTERN\n\n And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught--\n As my great power thereof may give thee sense,\n Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red\n After the Danish sword, and thy free awe\n Pays homage to us--thou mayst not coldly set\n Our sovereign process; which imports at full,\n By letters congruing to that effect,\n The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;\n For like the hectic in my blood he rages,\n And thou must cure me: till I know 'tis done,\n Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun.\n\nEXIT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f8f59c44059fa49000026","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":2873444,"position":4,"parentId":"3e3f76f3c44059fa4900001b","content":"## Act 4, Scene 4\n\nOn a nearby plain, young Prince Fortinbras marches with army, traveling through Denmark on the way to attack Poland. Fortinbras orders his captain to ask the King of Denmark for permission to travel. \n\nOn his way, the captain encounters Hamlet, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern on their way to the ship bound for England. The captain informs them that the Norwegian army rides to fight the Poles. \n\nSeeing an army prepared for war over a tiny patch of land, Hamlet is disgusted with himself for having failed to gain his revenge on Claudius. Hamlet declares that from this moment on, his thoughts will be bloody."},{"_id":"3e408d044f1f3525bd00002f","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f8f59c44059fa49000026","content":"## SCENE IV. A plain in Denmark.\n\nENTER FORTINBRAS, A CAPTAIN, AND SOLDIERS, MARCHING\n\nPRINCE FORTINBRAS\n\n Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king;\n Tell him that, by his licence, Fortinbras\n Craves the conveyance of a promised march\n Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous.\n If that his majesty would aught with us,\n We shall express our duty in his eye;\n And let him know so.\n\nCAPTAIN\n\n I will do't, my lord.\n\nPRINCE FORTINBRAS\n\n Go softly on.\n\nEXEUNT FORTINBRAS AND SOLDIERS\n\nENTER HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, AND OTHERS\n\nHAMLET\n\n Good sir, whose powers are these?\n\nCAPTAIN\n\n They are of Norway, sir.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How purposed, sir, I pray you?\n\n\nCAPTAIN\n\n Against some part of Poland.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Who commands them, sir?\n\n\nCAPTAIN\n\n The nephews to old Norway, Fortinbras.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Goes it against the main of Poland, sir,\n Or for some frontier?\n\n\nCAPTAIN\n\n Truly to speak, and with no addition,\n We go to gain a little patch of ground\n That hath in it no profit but the name.\n To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;\n Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole\n A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, then the Polack never will defend it.\n\nCAPTAIN\n\n Yes, it is already garrison'd.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats\n Will not debate the question of this straw:\n This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace,\n That inward breaks, and shows no cause without\n Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir.\n\n\nCAPTAIN\n\n God be wi' you, sir.\n\nEXIT\n\nROSENCRANTZ\n\n Wilt please you go, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n I'll be with you straight go a little before.\n\nEXEUNT ALL EXCEPT HAMLET\n\n How all occasions do inform against me,\n And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,\n If his chief good and market of his time\n Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.\n Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,\n Looking before and after, gave us not\n That capability and god-like reason\n To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be\n Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple\n Of thinking too precisely on the event,\n A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom\n And ever three parts coward, I do not know\n Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;'\n Sith I have cause and will and strength and means\n To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me:\n Witness this army of such mass and charge\n Led by a delicate and tender prince,\n Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'd\n Makes mouths at the invisible event,\n Exposing what is mortal and unsure\n To all that fortune, death and danger dare,\n Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great\n Is not to stir without great argument,\n But greatly to find quarrel in a straw\n When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,\n That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,\n Excitements of my reason and my blood,\n And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see\n The imminent death of twenty thousand men,\n That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,\n Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot\n Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,\n Which is not tomb enough and continent\n To hide the slain? O, from this time forth,\n My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!\n\nEXIT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f909dc44059fa49000027","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":5,"parentId":"3e3f76f3c44059fa4900001b","content":"## Act 4, Scene 5\n\nGertrude and Horatio discuss Ophelia. Gertrude does not wish to see her, but Horatio says that Ophelia should be pitied. Ophelia enters. Adorned with flowers and singing strange songs, she seems to have gone mad. \n\nClaudius enters and says that Ophelia’s grief stems from her father’s death, and that the people have been suspicious and disturbed by the death as well. He also mentions that Laertes has secretly sailed back from France.\n\nA gentleman enters to warn the king that Laertes has come with a mob of commoners. A furious Laertes storms into the hall, wishing to avenge his father’s death. Claudius attempts to soothe him by frankly acknowledging that Polonius is dead. Gertrude nervously adds that Claudius is innocent in it. \n\nWhen Ophelia reenters, Laertes plunges again into rage. Claudius claims that he is not responsible for Polonius’s death. Claudius convinces Laertes to hear his version of events, which he says will answer all his questions. "},{"_id":"3e4092884f1f3525bd000030","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f909dc44059fa49000027","content":"## SCENE V. Elsinore. A room in the castle.\n\nENTER QUEEN GERTRUDE, HORATIO, AND A GENTLEMAN\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n I will not speak with her.\n\nGENTLEMAN\n\n She is importunate, indeed distract:\n Her mood will needs be pitied.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n What would she have?\n\nGENTLEMAN\n\n She speaks much of her father; says she hears\n There's tricks i' the world; and hems, and beats her heart;\n Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,\n That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing,\n Yet the unshaped use of it doth move\n The hearers to collection; they aim at it,\n And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;\n Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures\n yield them,\n Indeed would make one think there might be thought,\n Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.\n\nHORATIO\n\n 'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strew\n Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Let her come in.\n\nEXIT HORATIO\n\n To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,\n Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss:\n So full of artless jealousy is guilt,\n It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.\n\nRE-ENTER HORATIO, WITH OPHELIA\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n How now, Ophelia!\n\nOPHELIA\n\n [Sings]\n How should I your true love know\n From another one?\n By his cockle hat and staff,\n And his sandal shoon.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Say you? nay, pray you, mark.\n\n Sings\n He is dead and gone, lady,\n He is dead and gone;\n At his head a grass-green turf,\n At his heels a stone.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Nay, but, Ophelia,--\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Pray you, mark.\n\n [Sings]\n White his shroud as the mountain snow,--\n\nENTER KING CLAUDIUS\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Alas, look here, my lord.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n [Sings]\n Larded with sweet flowers\n Which bewept to the grave did go\n With true-love showers.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n How do you, pretty lady?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Well, God 'ild you! They say the owl was a baker's\n daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not\n what we may be. God be at your table!\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Conceit upon her father.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Pray you, let's have no words of this; but when they\n ask you what it means, say you this:\n\n [Sings]\n To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,\n All in the morning betime,\n And I a maid at your window,\n To be your Valentine.\n Then up he rose, and donn'd his clothes,\n And dupp'd the chamber-door;\n Let in the maid, that out a maid\n Never departed more.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Pretty Ophelia!\n\nOPHELIA\n\n Indeed, la, without an oath, I'll make an end on't:\n\n [Sings]\n By Gis and by Saint Charity,\n Alack, and fie for shame!\n Young men will do't, if they come to't;\n By cock, they are to blame.\n Quoth she, before you tumbled me,\n You promised me to wed.\n So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,\n An thou hadst not come to my bed.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n How long hath she been thus?\n\nOPHELIA\n\n I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I\n cannot choose but weep, to think they should lay him\n i' the cold ground. My brother shall know of it:\n and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my\n coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies;\n good night, good night.\n\nEXIT\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Follow her close; give her good watch,\n I pray you.\n\nEXIT HORATIO\n\n O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springs\n All from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude,\n When sorrows come, they come not single spies\n But in battalions. First, her father slain:\n Next, your son gone; and he most violent author\n Of his own just remove: the people muddied,\n Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers,\n For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,\n In hugger-mugger to inter him: poor Ophelia\n Divided from herself and her fair judgment,\n Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts:\n Last, and as much containing as all these,\n Her brother is in secret come from France;\n Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,\n And wants not buzzers to infect his ear\n With pestilent speeches of his father's death;\n Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,\n Will nothing stick our person to arraign\n In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,\n Like to a murdering-piece, in many places\n Gives me superfluous death.\n\nA NOISE WITHIN\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Alack, what noise is this?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.\n\nENTER ANOTHER GENTLEMAN\n\n What is the matter?\n\nGENTLEMAN\n\n Save yourself, my lord:\n The ocean, overpeering of his list,\n Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste\n Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,\n O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him lord;\n And, as the world were now but to begin,\n Antiquity forgot, custom not known,\n The ratifiers and props of every word,\n They cry 'Choose we: Laertes shall be king:'\n Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds:\n 'Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!'\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!\n O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n The doors are broke.\n\n Noise within\n\nENTER LAERTES ARMED, DANES FOLLOWING\n\nLAERTES\n\n Where is this king? Sirs, stand you all without.\n\nDANES\n\n No, let's come in.\n\nLAERTES\n\n I pray you, give me leave.\n\nDANES\n\n We will, we will.\n\n They retire without the door\n\nLAERTES\n\n I thank you: keep the door. O thou vile king,\n Give me my father!\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Calmly, good Laertes.\n\nLAERTES\n\n That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard,\n Cries cuckold to my father, brands the harlot\n Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow\n Of my true mother.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n What is the cause, Laertes,\n That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?\n Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person:\n There's such divinity doth hedge a king,\n That treason can but peep to what it would,\n Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes,\n Why thou art thus incensed. Let him go, Gertrude.\n Speak, man.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Where is my father?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Dead.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n But not by him.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Let him demand his fill.\n\nLAERTES\n\n How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:\n To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil!\n Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit!\n I dare damnation. To this point I stand,\n That both the worlds I give to negligence,\n Let come what comes; only I'll be revenged\n Most thoroughly for my father.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Who shall stay you?\n\nLAERTES\n\n My will, not all the world:\n And for my means, I'll husband them so well,\n They shall go far with little.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Good Laertes,\n If you desire to know the certainty\n Of your dear father's death, is't writ in your revenge,\n That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe,\n Winner and loser?\n\nLAERTES\n\n None but his enemies.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Will you know them then?\n\nLAERTES\n\n To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms;\n And like the kind life-rendering pelican,\n Repast them with my blood.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Why, now you speak\n Like a good child and a true gentleman.\n That I am guiltless of your father's death,\n And am most sensible in grief for it,\n It shall as level to your judgment pierce\n As day does to your eye.\n\nDANES\n [Within] Let her come in.\n\nLAERTES\n\n How now! what noise is that?\n\nRE-ENTER OPHELIA\n\n O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,\n Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!\n By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight,\n Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May!\n Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!\n O heavens! is't possible, a young maid's wits\n Should be as moral as an old man's life?\n Nature is fine in love, and where 'tis fine,\n It sends some precious instance of itself\n After the thing it loves.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n [Sings]\n They bore him barefaced on the bier;\n Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny;\n And in his grave rain'd many a tear:--\n Fare you well, my dove!\n\nLAERTES\n\n Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,\n It could not move thus.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n [Sings]\n You must sing a-down a-down,\n An you call him a-down-a.\n O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false\n steward, that stole his master's daughter.\n\nLAERTES\n\n This nothing's more than matter.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray,\n love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts.\n\nLAERTES\n\n A document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n There's fennel for you, and columbines: there's rue\n for you; and here's some for me: we may call it\n herb-grace o' Sundays: O you must wear your rue with\n a difference. There's a daisy: I would give you\n some violets, but they withered all when my father\n died: they say he made a good end,--\n\n [Sings]\n For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself,\n She turns to favour and to prettiness.\n\nOPHELIA\n\n [Sings]\n And will he not come again?\n And will he not come again?\n No, no, he is dead:\n Go to thy death-bed:\n He never will come again.\n His beard was as white as snow,\n All flaxen was his poll:\n He is gone, he is gone,\n And we cast away moan:\n God ha' mercy on his soul!\n And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God be wi' ye.\n\nEXIT\n\nLAERTES\n\n Do you see this, O God?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Laertes, I must commune with your grief,\n Or you deny me right. Go but apart,\n Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will.\n And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me:\n If by direct or by collateral hand\n They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,\n Our crown, our life, and all that we can ours,\n To you in satisfaction; but if not,\n Be you content to lend your patience to us,\n And we shall jointly labour with your soul\n To give it due content.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Let this be so;\n His means of death, his obscure funeral--\n No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,\n No noble rite nor formal ostentation--\n Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth,\n That I must call't in question.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n So you shall;\n And where the offence is let the great axe fall.\n I pray you, go with me.\n\nEXEUNT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f931fc44059fa49000028","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":6,"parentId":"3e3f76f3c44059fa4900001b","content":"## Act 4, Scene 6\n\nIn another part of the castle, Horatio is introduced to a pair of sailors bearing a letter for him from Hamlet. In the letter, Hamlet says that his ship was captured by pirates, who have returned him to Denmark. \n\nHe asks Horatio to escort the sailors to the king and queen, for they have messages for them as well. He also says that he has much to tell of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Horatio takes the sailors to the king and then follows them to find Hamlet, who is in the countryside near the castle."},{"_id":"3e409d014f1f3525bd000031","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f931fc44059fa49000028","content":"## SCENE VI. Another room in the castle.\n\nENTER HORATIO AND A SERVANT\n\nHORATIO\n\n What are they that would speak with me?\n\nSERVANT\n\n Sailors, sir: they say they have letters for you.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Let them come in.\n\nEXIT SERVANT\n\n I do not know from what part of the world\n I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.\n\nENTER SAILORS\nFIRST SAILOR\n\n God bless you, sir.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Let him bless thee too.\n\nFirst Sailor\n\n He shall, sir, an't please him. There's a letter for\n you, sir; it comes from the ambassador that was\n bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am\n let to know it is.\n\nHORATIO\n\n [Reads] 'Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked\n this, give these fellows some means to the king:\n they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old\n at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us\n chase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on\n a compelled valour, and in the grapple I boarded\n them: on the instant they got clear of our ship; so\n I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with\n me like thieves of mercy: but they knew what they\n did; I am to do a good turn for them. Let the king\n have the letters I have sent; and repair thou to me\n with as much speed as thou wouldst fly death. I\n have words to speak in thine ear will make thee\n dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of\n the matter. These good fellows will bring thee\n where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their\n course for England: of them I have much to tell\n thee. Farewell.\n 'He that thou knowest thine, HAMLET.'\n Come, I will make you way for these your letters;\n And do't the speedier, that you may direct me\n To him from whom you brought them.\n\nEXEUNT\n"},{"_id":"3e3f9424c44059fa49000029","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":7,"parentId":"3e3f76f3c44059fa4900001b","content":"## Act 4, Scene 7\n\nClaudius and Laertes discuss Polonius’s death. Claudius explains that he acted as he did because both the common people and the queen love Hamlet very much. A messenger enters with a letter from Hamlet, which says that Hamlet will return tomorrow.\n\nClaudius agrees that Laertes deserves to be revenged upon Hamlet. The devious king begins to think of a way for Laertes to have his revenge without any appearance of foul play. \n\nThe king and Laertes plot to tempt Hamlet into a duel. Laertes will use a sharpened sword rather than a dull fencing blade. Laertes also proposes to poison his sword. The king has a backup plan, proposing that if Hamlet succeeds in the duel, Claudius will offer him a poisoned cup of wine.\n\nGertrude enters with tragic news. Ophelia, mad with grief, has drowned in the river. Laertes flees the room. Claudius summons Gertrude to follow. He worries that the news of Ophelia’s death will reawaken Laertes's rage."},{"_id":"3e40a07d4f1f3525bd000032","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f9424c44059fa49000029","content":"## SCENE VII. Another room in the castle.\n\nENTER KING CLAUDIUS AND LAERTES \n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Now must your conscience my acquaintance seal,\n And you must put me in your heart for friend,\n Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,\n That he which hath your noble father slain\n Pursued my life.\n\nLAERTES\n\n It well appears: but tell me\n Why you proceeded not against these feats,\n So crimeful and so capital in nature,\n As by your safety, wisdom, all things else,\n You mainly were stirr'd up.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n O, for two special reasons;\n Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd,\n But yet to me they are strong. The queen his mother\n Lives almost by his looks; and for myself--\n My virtue or my plague, be it either which--\n She's so conjunctive to my life and soul,\n That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,\n I could not but by her. The other motive,\n Why to a public count I might not go,\n Is the great love the general gender bear him;\n Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,\n Would, like the spring that turneth wood to stone,\n Convert his gyves to graces; so that my arrows,\n Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind,\n Would have reverted to my bow again,\n And not where I had aim'd them.\n\nLAERTES\n\n And so have I a noble father lost;\n A sister driven into desperate terms,\n Whose worth, if praises may go back again,\n Stood challenger on mount of all the age\n For her perfections: but my revenge will come.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Break not your sleeps for that: you must not think\n That we are made of stuff so flat and dull\n That we can let our beard be shook with danger\n And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more:\n I loved your father, and we love ourself;\n And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine--\n\nENTER A MESSENGER\n\nMESSENGER\n\n Letters, my lord, from Hamlet:\n This to your majesty; this to the queen.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n From Hamlet! who brought them?\n\nMESSENGER\n\n Sailors, my lord, they say; I saw them not:\n They were given me by Claudio; he received them\n Of him that brought them.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Laertes, you shall hear them. Leave us.\n\nEXIT MESSENGER\n\nREADS\n\n 'High and mighty, You shall know I am set naked on\n your kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to see\n your kingly eyes: when I shall, first asking your\n pardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my sudden\n and more strange return. 'HAMLET.'\n What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?\n Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?\n\nLAERTES\n\n Know you the hand?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n 'Tis Hamlets character. 'Naked!\n And in a postscript here, he says 'alone.'\n Can you advise me?\n\nLAERTES\n\n I'm lost in it, my lord. But let him come;\n It warms the very sickness in my heart,\n That I shall live and tell him to his teeth,\n 'Thus didest thou.'\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n If it be so, Laertes--\n As how should it be so? how otherwise?--\n Will you be ruled by me?\n\nLAERTES\n\n Ay, my lord;\n So you will not o'errule me to a peace.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n To thine own peace. If he be now return'd,\n As checking at his voyage, and that he means\n No more to undertake it, I will work him\n To an exploit, now ripe in my device,\n Under the which he shall not choose but fall:\n And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe,\n But even his mother shall uncharge the practise\n And call it accident.\n\nLAERTES\n\n My lord, I will be ruled;\n The rather, if you could devise it so\n That I might be the organ.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n It falls right.\n You have been talk'd of since your travel much,\n And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a quality\n Wherein, they say, you shine: your sum of parts\n Did not together pluck such envy from him\n As did that one, and that, in my regard,\n Of the unworthiest siege.\n\nLAERTES\n\n What part is that, my lord?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n A very riband in the cap of youth,\n Yet needful too; for youth no less becomes\n The light and careless livery that it wears\n Than settled age his sables and his weeds,\n Importing health and graveness. Two months since,\n Here was a gentleman of Normandy:--\n I've seen myself, and served against, the French,\n And they can well on horseback: but this gallant\n Had witchcraft in't; he grew unto his seat;\n And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,\n As he had been incorpsed and demi-natured\n With the brave beast: so far he topp'd my thought,\n That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,\n Come short of what he did.\n\nLAERTES\n\n A Norman was't?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n A Norman.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Upon my life, Lamond.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n The very same.\n\nLAERTES\n\n I know him well: he is the brooch indeed\n And gem of all the nation.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n He made confession of you,\n And gave you such a masterly report\n For art and exercise in your defence\n And for your rapier most especially,\n That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeed,\n If one could match you: the scrimers of their nation,\n He swore, had had neither motion, guard, nor eye,\n If you opposed them. Sir, this report of his\n Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy\n That he could nothing do but wish and beg\n Your sudden coming o'er, to play with him.\n Now, out of this,--\n\nLAERTES\n\n What out of this, my lord?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Laertes, was your father dear to you?\n Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,\n A face without a heart?\n\nLAERTES\n\n Why ask you this?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Not that I think you did not love your father;\n But that I know love is begun by time;\n And that I see, in passages of proof,\n Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.\n There lives within the very flame of love\n A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it;\n And nothing is at a like goodness still;\n For goodness, growing to a plurisy,\n Dies in his own too much: that we would do\n We should do when we would; for this 'would' changes\n And hath abatements and delays as many\n As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;\n And then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh,\n That hurts by easing. But, to the quick o' the ulcer:--\n Hamlet comes back: what would you undertake,\n To show yourself your father's son in deed\n More than in words?\n\nLAERTES\n\n To cut his throat i' the church.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n No place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize;\n Revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes,\n Will you do this, keep close within your chamber.\n Hamlet return'd shall know you are come home:\n We'll put on those shall praise your excellence\n And set a double varnish on the fame\n The Frenchman gave you, bring you in fine together\n And wager on your heads: he, being remiss,\n Most generous and free from all contriving,\n Will not peruse the foils; so that, with ease,\n Or with a little shuffling, you may choose\n A sword unbated, and in a pass of practise\n Requite him for your father.\n\nLAERTES\n\n I will do't:\n And, for that purpose, I'll anoint my sword.\n I bought an unction of a mountebank,\n So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,\n Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,\n Collected from all simples that have virtue\n Under the moon, can save the thing from death\n That is but scratch'd withal: I'll touch my point\n With this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,\n It may be death.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Let's further think of this;\n Weigh what convenience both of time and means\n May fit us to our shape: if this should fail,\n And that our drift look through our bad performance,\n 'Twere better not assay'd: therefore this project\n Should have a back or second, that might hold,\n If this should blast in proof. Soft! let me see:\n We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings: I ha't.\n When in your motion you are hot and dry--\n As make your bouts more violent to that end--\n And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepared him\n A chalice for the nonce, whereon but sipping,\n If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,\n Our purpose may hold there.\n\nENTER QUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n How now, sweet queen!\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n One woe doth tread upon another's heel,\n So fast they follow; your sister's drown'd, Laertes.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Drown'd! O, where?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n There is a willow grows aslant a brook,\n That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;\n There with fantastic garlands did she come\n Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples\n That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,\n But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them:\n There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds\n Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;\n When down her weedy trophies and herself\n Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;\n And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:\n Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;\n As one incapable of her own distress,\n Or like a creature native and indued\n Unto that element: but long it could not be\n Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,\n Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay\n To muddy death.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Alas, then, she is drown'd?\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Drown'd, drown'd.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,\n And therefore I forbid my tears: but yet\n It is our trick; nature her custom holds,\n Let shame say what it will: when these are gone,\n The woman will be out. Adieu, my lord:\n I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze,\n But that this folly douts it.\n\nEXIT\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Let's follow, Gertrude:\n How much I had to do to calm his rage!\n Now fear I this will give it start again;\n Therefore let's follow.\n\nEXEUNT"},{"_id":"3e3f7854c44059fa4900001c","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":5,"parentId":"3f3818e825eed9791a000093","content":"## Act 5\n\nAt Ophelia’s grave, Hamlet contemplates the graveyard’s skulls and their dignity in life compared to their treatment in death. He addresses the skull of Yorick, the King’s jester.\n\nThe funeral procession enters to bury Ophelia. Hamlet realizes who they are burying and confronts Laertes. As Hamlet professes his love for Ophelia, Claudius announces that Hamlet is mad.\n\nHamlet tells Horatio that Claudius had ordered his death in England. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern unsuspectingly carried the orders in a letter; which he replaced with an order for their deaths.\n\nLaertes and Hamlet fight. Hamlet fights well, so Claudius offers him the poison cup – which he refuses. Unknowingly, Gertrude drinks from the cup. Laertes and Hamlet accidentally swap rapiers and Laertes is injured by his poisoned rapier. As he dies, Laertes tells Hamlet of Claudius’ plan and forgives him for killing Polonius.\n\nA fatally wounded Hamlet kills Claudius before drinking the poison cup. Fortinbras, whose army has invaded Denmark, enters as Hamlet is dying. Hamlet bequeaths the throne to Fortinbras and is promised a soldier’s send off by the new King. "},{"_id":"3e3f9643c44059fa4900002a","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f7854c44059fa4900001c","content":"## Act 5, Scene 1\n\nIn the churchyard, two gravediggers dig a grave for Ophelia. They argue whether Ophelia should be buried in the churchyard, since her death looks like a suicide.\n\nHamlet and Horatio watch the gravediggers work. Hamlet looks with wonder at skulls they excavate and speculates about what occupations the owners of these skulls served in life. Hamlet asks the gravedigger whose grave he digs, and the gravedigger spars with him verbally. \n\nHamlet picks up a skull, and the gravedigger, who does not recognize Hamlet, tells him that the skull belonged to Yorick, King Hamlet’s jester. Hamlet tells Horatio that as a child he knew Yorick and is appalled at the sight of the skull.\n\nThe funeral procession for Ophelia enters the churchyard. Hamlet, wondering who has died, notices that the funeral rites appear to be for a suicide. He and Horatio hide as the procession approaches the grave. \n\nAs Ophelia is buried, Hamlet realizes who has died. Laertes leaps into Ophelia’s grave in grief. Hamlet bursts in, declaring his love for Ophelia. He leaps into the grave and fights Laertes. Gertrude and Claudius declare that Hamlet is mad. Hamlet storms off, and Horatio follows. The king urges Laertes to be patient, and to remember their plan."},{"_id":"3e40a5df4f1f3525bd000033","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f9643c44059fa4900002a","content":"## SCENE I. A churchyard.\n\nENTER TWO CLOWNS, WITH SPADES, &C.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Is she to be buried in Christian burial that\n wilfully seeks her own salvation?\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n I tell thee she is: and therefore make her grave\n straight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds it\n Christian burial.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her\n own defence?\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n Why, 'tis found so.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n It must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. For\n here lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly,\n it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: it\n is, to act, to do, to perform: argal, she drowned\n herself wittingly.\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n Nay, but hear you, goodman delver,--\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Give me leave. Here lies the water; good: here\n stands the man; good; if the man go to this water,\n and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he\n goes,--mark you that; but if the water come to him\n and drown him, he drowns not himself: argal, he\n that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n But is this law?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Ay, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been\n a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'\n Christian burial.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Why, there thou say'st: and the more pity that\n great folk should have countenance in this world to\n drown or hang themselves, more than their even\n Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient\n gentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:\n they hold up Adam's profession.\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n Was he a gentleman?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n He was the first that ever bore arms.\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n Why, he had none.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the\n Scripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:'\n could he dig without arms? I'll put another\n question to thee: if thou answerest me not to the\n purpose, confess thyself--\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n Go to.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n What is he that builds stronger than either the\n mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a\n thousand tenants.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n I like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallows\n does well; but how does it well? it does well to\n those that do in: now thou dost ill to say the\n gallows is built stronger than the church: argal,\n the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n 'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or\n a carpenter?'\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n Marry, now I can tell.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n To't.\n\nSECOND CLOWN\n\n Mass, I cannot tell.\n\nENTER HAMLET AND HORATIO, AT A DISTANCE\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dull\n ass will not mend his pace with beating; and, when\n you are asked this question next, say 'a\n grave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last till\n doomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me a\n stoup of liquor.\n\nEXIT SECOND CLOWN\n\n He digs and sings\n In youth, when I did love, did love,\n Methought it was very sweet,\n To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,\n O, methought, there was nothing meet.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Has this fellow no feeling of his business, that he\n sings at grave-making?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness.\n\nHAMLET\n\n 'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment hath\n the daintier sense.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n [Sings]\n But age, with his stealing steps,\n Hath claw'd me in his clutch,\n And hath shipped me intil the land,\n As if I had never been such.\n\n Throws up a skull\n\nHAMLET\n\n That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:\n how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were\n Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! It\n might be the pate of a politician, which this ass\n now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,\n might it not?\n\nHORATIO\n\n It might, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Or of a courtier; which could say 'Good morrow,\n sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?' This might\n be my lord such-a-one, that praised my lord\n such-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Ay, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, and\n knocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade:\n here's fine revolution, an we had the trick to\n see't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding,\n but to play at loggats with 'em? mine ache to think on't.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n [Sings]\n A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,\n For and a shrouding sheet:\n O, a pit of clay for to be made\n For such a guest is meet.\n\nTHROWS UP ANOTHER SKULL\n\nHAMLET\n\n There's another: why may not that be the skull of a\n lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets,\n his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does he\n suffer this rude knave now to knock him about the\n sconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him of\n his action of battery? Hum! This fellow might be\n in's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,\n his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,\n his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, and\n the recovery of his recoveries, to have his fine\n pate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch him\n no more of his purchases, and double ones too, than\n the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The\n very conveyances of his lands will hardly lie in\n this box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Not a jot more, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Is not parchment made of sheepskins?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too.\n\nHAMLET\n\n They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance\n in that. I will speak to this fellow. Whose\n grave's this, sirrah?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Mine, sir.\n\n [Sings]\n O, a pit of clay for to be made\n For such a guest is meet.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not\n yours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.\n\nHAMLET\n\n 'Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine:\n 'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away gain, from me to\n you.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What man dost thou dig it for?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n For no man, sir.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What woman, then?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n For none, neither.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Who is to be buried in't?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n One that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How absolute the knave is! we must speak by the\n card, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,\n Horatio, these three years I have taken a note of\n it; the age is grown so picked that the toe of the\n peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, he\n gaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been a\n grave-maker?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Of all the days i' the year, I came to't that day\n that our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How long is that since?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Cannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: it\n was the very day that young Hamlet was born; he that\n is mad, and sent into England.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Ay, marry, why was he sent into England?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Why, because he was mad: he shall recover his wits\n there; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n 'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the men\n are as mad as he.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How came he mad?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Very strangely, they say.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How strangely?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Faith, e'en with losing his wits.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Upon what ground?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Why, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, man\n and boy, thirty years.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n I' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as we\n have many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarce\n hold the laying in--he will last you some eight year\n or nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why he more than another?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n Why, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, that\n he will keep out water a great while; and your water\n is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.\n Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earth\n three and twenty years.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Whose was it?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n A whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nay, I know not.\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n A pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured a\n flagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,\n sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.\n\nHAMLET\n\n This?\n\nFIRST CLOWN\n\n E'en that.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Let me see.\n\n Takes the skull\n Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow\n of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath\n borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how\n abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at\n it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know\n not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your\n gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,\n that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one\n now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?\n Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let\n her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must\n come; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tell\n me one thing.\n\nHORATIO\n\n What's that, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'\n the earth?\n\nHORATIO\n\n E'en so.\n\nHAMLET\n\n And smelt so? pah!\n\n Puts down the skull\n\nHORATIO\n\n E'en so, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n To what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why may\n not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,\n till he find it stopping a bung-hole?\n\nHORATIO\n\n 'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.\n\nHAMLET\n\n No, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither with\n modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: as\n thus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,\n Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of\n earth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto he\n was converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?\n Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,\n Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:\n O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,\n Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!\n But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.\n\nENTER PRIEST, &C, IN PROCESSION WITH THE CORPSE OF OPHELIA; LAERTES AND MOURNERS FOLLOWING; KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, THEIR TRAINS, &C.\n\n The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow?\n And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken\n The corse they follow did with desperate hand\n Fordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.\n Couch we awhile, and mark.\n\nRETIRING WITH HORATIO\n\nLAERTES\n\n What ceremony else?\n\nHAMLET\n\n That is Laertes,\n A very noble youth: mark.\n\nLAERTES\n\n What ceremony else?\n\nFIRST PRIEST\n\n Her obsequies have been as far enlarged\n As we have warrantise: her death was doubtful;\n And, but that great command o'ersways the order,\n She should in ground unsanctified have lodged\n Till the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,\n Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;\n Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,\n Her maiden strewments and the bringing home\n Of bell and burial.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Must there no more be done?\n\nFIRST PRIEST\n\n No more be done:\n We should profane the service of the dead\n To sing a requiem and such rest to her\n As to peace-parted souls.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Lay her i' the earth:\n And from her fair and unpolluted flesh\n May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,\n A ministering angel shall my sister be,\n When thou liest howling.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What, the fair Ophelia!\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Sweets to the sweet: farewell!\n\n[scattering flowers]\n\n I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;\n I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,\n And not have strew'd thy grave.\n\nLAERTES\n\n O, treble woe\n Fall ten times treble on that cursed head,\n Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense\n Deprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,\n Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:\n\n [Leaps into the grave]\n\n Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,\n Till of this flat a mountain you have made,\n To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish head\n Of blue Olympus.\n\nHAMLET\n\n [Advancing] What is he whose grief\n Bears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrow\n Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand\n Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,\n Hamlet the Dane.\n\n [Leaps into the grave]\n\nLAERTES\n\n The devil take thy soul!\n\n [Grappling with him]\n\nHAMLET\n\n Thou pray'st not well.\n I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;\n For, though I am not splenitive and rash,\n Yet have I something in me dangerous,\n Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Pluck them asunder.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Hamlet, Hamlet!\n\nALL\n\n Gentlemen,--\n\nHORATIO\n\n Good my lord, be quiet.\n\n THE ATTENDANTS PART THEM, AND THEY COME OUT OF THE GRAVE\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why I will fight with him upon this theme\n Until my eyelids will no longer wag.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n O my son, what theme?\n\nHAMLET\n\n I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers\n Could not, with all their quantity of love,\n Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n O, he is mad, Laertes.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n For love of God, forbear him.\n\nHAMLET\n\n 'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:\n Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?\n Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?\n I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?\n To outface me with leaping in her grave?\n Be buried quick with her, and so will I:\n And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw\n Millions of acres on us, till our ground,\n Singeing his pate against the burning zone,\n Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,\n I'll rant as well as thou.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n This is mere madness:\n And thus awhile the fit will work on him;\n Anon, as patient as the female dove,\n When that her golden couplets are disclosed,\n His silence will sit drooping.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Hear you, sir;\n What is the reason that you use me thus?\n I loved you ever: but it is no matter;\n Let Hercules himself do what he may,\n The cat will mew and dog will have his day.\n\nEXIT\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n I pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.\n\nEXIT HORATIO\n\nTO LAERTES\n\n Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;\n We'll put the matter to the present push.\n Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.\n This grave shall have a living monument:\n An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;\n Till then, in patience our proceeding be.\n\nEXEUNT\n\n"},{"_id":"3e3f97cbc44059fa4900002b","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":2,"parentId":"3e3f7854c44059fa4900001c","content":"## Act 5, Scene 2\n\nHamlet tells Horatio how he plotted to overcome Claudius’s scheme to have him murdered. He replaced the sealed letter carried by Rosencrantz and Guildenstern with one calling for the execution of the letter-bearers. \n\nTheir conversation is interrupted by Osric, a foolish courtier. He tells them that Claudius wants Hamlet to fence with Laertes. Against Horatio’s advice, Hamlet agrees to fight. \n\nThe court marches into the hall, and Hamlet asks Laertes for forgiveness. Laertes says that he will not forgive Hamlet until an expert in the fine points of honor has advised him. But, he says, he will accept Hamlet’s offer of love.\n\nThey select their foils and the king says that if Hamlet wins the first or second hit, he will drink to Hamlet’s health, then throw into the cup a valuable gem and give the wine to Hamlet. The duel begins. \n\nHamlet strikes Laertes but declines to drink, saying that he will play another hit first. He hits Laertes again, and Gertrude rises to drink from the poisoned cup. The king tells her not to drink, but she does so anyway. \n\nThey fight again, and Laertes scores a hit against Hamlet, drawing blood. Scuffling, they manage to exchange swords, and Hamlet wounds Laertes with his own blade.\n\nThe queen falls. Laertes is poisoned by his own sword. The queen moans that the cup must have been poisoned, calls out to Hamlet, and dies. Laertes tells Hamlet that he, too, has been slain, and that the king is to blame both for the poison on the sword and in the cup. \n\nHamlet runs Claudius through with the poisoned sword and forces him to drink the poisoned wine. Claudius dies. Hamlet exchanges forgiveness with Laertes, who dies after absolving Hamlet.\n\nThe sound of marching echoes through the hall. Fortinbras has come in conquest from Poland. Hamlet tells Horatio that he is dying, and urges his friend not to commit suicide, but to stay alive and tell his story. He says that he wishes Fortinbras to be King of Denmark; then he dies.\n\nFortinbras marches into the room accompanied by the English ambassadors, who announce that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead. Horatio says that he will tell everyone assembled the story that led to the gruesome scene now on display. Fortinbras orders for Hamlet to be carried away like a soldier."},{"_id":"3e40c1314f1f3525bd000034","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":1,"parentId":"3e3f97cbc44059fa4900002b","content":"## SCENE II. A hall in the castle.\n\nENTER HAMLET AND HORATIO \n\nHAMLET\n\n So much for this, sir: now shall you see the other;\n You do remember all the circumstance?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Remember it, my lord?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Sir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,\n That would not let me sleep: methought I lay\n Worse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,\n And praised be rashness for it, let us know,\n Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,\n When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach us\n There's a divinity that shapes our ends,\n Rough-hew them how we will,--\n\nHORATIO\n\n That is most certain.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Up from my cabin,\n My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the dark\n Groped I to find out them; had my desire.\n Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrew\n To mine own room again; making so bold,\n My fears forgetting manners, to unseal\n Their grand commission; where I found, Horatio,--\n O royal knavery!--an exact command,\n Larded with many several sorts of reasons\n Importing Denmark's health and England's too,\n With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,\n That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,\n No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,\n My head should be struck off.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Is't possible?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Here's the commission: read it at more leisure.\n But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?\n\nHORATIO\n\n I beseech you.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Being thus be-netted round with villanies,--\n Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,\n They had begun the play--I sat me down,\n Devised a new commission, wrote it fair:\n I once did hold it, as our statists do,\n A baseness to write fair and labour'd much\n How to forget that learning, but, sir, now\n It did me yeoman's service: wilt thou know\n The effect of what I wrote?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Ay, good my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n An earnest conjuration from the king,\n As England was his faithful tributary,\n As love between them like the palm might flourish,\n As peace should stiff her wheaten garland wear\n And stand a comma 'tween their amities,\n And many such-like 'As'es of great charge,\n That, on the view and knowing of these contents,\n Without debatement further, more or less,\n He should the bearers put to sudden death,\n Not shriving-time allow'd.\n\nHORATIO\n\n How was this seal'd?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, even in that was heaven ordinant.\n I had my father's signet in my purse,\n Which was the model of that Danish seal;\n Folded the writ up in form of the other,\n Subscribed it, gave't the impression, placed it safely,\n The changeling never known. Now, the next day\n Was our sea-fight; and what to this was sequent\n Thou know'st already.\n\nHORATIO\n\n So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Why, man, they did make love to this employment;\n They are not near my conscience; their defeat\n Does by their own insinuation grow:\n 'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes\n Between the pass and fell incensed points\n Of mighty opposites.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Why, what a king is this!\n\nHAMLET\n\n Does it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon--\n He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother,\n Popp'd in between the election and my hopes,\n Thrown out his angle for my proper life,\n And with such cozenage--is't not perfect conscience,\n To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd,\n To let this canker of our nature come\n In further evil?\n\nHORATIO\n\n It must be shortly known to him from England\n What is the issue of the business there.\n\nHAMLET\n\n It will be short: the interim is mine;\n And a man's life's no more than to say 'One.'\n But I am very sorry, good Horatio,\n That to Laertes I forgot myself;\n For, by the image of my cause, I see\n The portraiture of his: I'll court his favours.\n But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me\n Into a towering passion.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Peace! who comes here?\n\nENTER OSRIC\n\nOSRIC\n\n Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this water-fly?\n\nHORATIO\n\n No, my good lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Thy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice to\n know him. He hath much land, and fertile: let a\n beast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand at\n the king's mess: 'tis a chough; but, as I say,\n spacious in the possession of dirt.\n\nOSRIC\n\n Sweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, I\n should impart a thing to you from his majesty.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I will receive it, sir, with all diligence of\n spirit. Put your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.\n\nOSRIC\n\n I thank your lordship, it is very hot.\n\nHAMLET\n\n No, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind is\n northerly.\n\nOSRIC\n\n It is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.\n\nHAMLET\n\n But yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for my\n complexion.\n\nOSRIC\n\n Exceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,--as\n 'twere,--I cannot tell how. But, my lord, his\n majesty bade me signify to you that he has laid a\n great wager on your head: sir, this is the matter,--\n\nHAMLET\n\n I beseech you, remember--\n\n HAMLET moves him to put on his hat\n\nOSRIC\n\n Nay, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith.\n Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believe\n me, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellent\n differences, of very soft society and great showing:\n indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card or\n calendar of gentry, for you shall find in him the\n continent of what part a gentleman would see.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you;\n though, I know, to divide him inventorially would\n dizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yaw\n neither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in the\n verity of extolment, I take him to be a soul of\n great article; and his infusion of such dearth and\n rareness, as, to make true diction of him, his\n semblable is his mirror; and who else would trace\n him, his umbrage, nothing more.\n\nOSRIC\n\n Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him.\n\nHAMLET\n\n The concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the gentleman\n in our more rawer breath?\n\nOSRIC\n\n Sir?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Is't not possible to understand in another tongue?\n You will do't, sir, really.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What imports the nomination of this gentleman?\n\nOSRIC\n\n Of Laertes?\n\nHORATIO\n\n His purse is empty already; all's golden words are spent.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Of him, sir.\n\nOSRIC\n\n I know you are not ignorant--\n\nHAMLET\n\n I would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did,\n it would not much approve me. Well, sir?\n\nOSRIC\n\n You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is--\n\nHAMLET\n\n I dare not confess that, lest I should compare with\n him in excellence; but, to know a man well, were to\n know himself.\n\nOSRIC\n\n I mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputation\n laid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What's his weapon?\n\nOSRIC\n\n Rapier and dagger.\n\nHAMLET\n\n That's two of his weapons: but, well.\n\nOSRIC\n\n The king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbary\n horses: against the which he has imponed, as I take\n it, six French rapiers and poniards, with their\n assigns, as girdle, hangers, and so: three of the\n carriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, very\n responsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages,\n and of very liberal conceit.\n\nHAMLET\n\n What call you the carriages?\n\nHORATIO\n\n I knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done.\n\nOSRIC\n\n The carriages, sir, are the hangers.\n\nHAMLET\n\n The phrase would be more german to the matter, if we\n could carry cannon by our sides: I would it might\n be hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horses\n against six French swords, their assigns, and three\n liberal-conceited carriages; that's the French bet\n against the Danish. Why is this 'imponed,' as you call it?\n\nOSRIC\n\n The king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passes\n between yourself and him, he shall not exceed you\n three hits: he hath laid on twelve for nine; and it\n would come to immediate trial, if your lordship\n would vouchsafe the answer.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How if I answer 'no'?\n\nOSRIC\n\n I mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Sir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please his\n majesty, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; let\n the foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and the\n king hold his purpose, I will win for him an I can;\n if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.\n\nOSRIC\n\n Shall I re-deliver you e'en so?\n\nHAMLET\n\n To this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.\n\nOSRIC\n\n I commend my duty to your lordship.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Yours, yours.\n\nEXIT OSRIC\n\n He does well to commend it himself; there are no \n tongues else for's turn.\n\nHORATIO\n\n This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.\n\nHAMLET\n\n He did comply with his dug, before he sucked it.\n Thus has he--and many more of the same bevy that I\n know the dressy age dotes on--only got the tune of\n the time and outward habit of encounter; a kind of\n yesty collection, which carries them through and\n through the most fond and winnowed opinions; and do\n but blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.\n\nENTER A LORD\n\nLORD\n\n My lord, his majesty commended him to you by young\n Osric, who brings back to him that you attend him in\n the hall: he sends to know if your pleasure hold to\n play with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I am constant to my purpose; they follow the king's\n pleasure: if his fitness speaks, mine is ready; now\n or whensoever, provided I be so able as now.\n\nLORD\n\n The king and queen and all are coming down.\n\nHAMLET\n\n In happy time.\n\nLORD\n\n The queen desires you to use some gentle\n entertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.\n\nHAMLET\n\n She well instructs me.\n\nEXIT LORD\n\nHORATIO\n\n You will lose this wager, my lord.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I do not think so: since he went into France, I\n have been in continual practise: I shall win at the\n odds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's here\n about my heart: but it is no matter.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Nay, good my lord,--\n\nHAMLET\n\n It is but foolery; but it is such a kind of\n gain-giving, as would perhaps trouble a woman.\n\nHORATIO\n\n If your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I will\n forestall their repair hither, and say you are not\n fit.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Not a whit, we defy augury: there's a special\n providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,\n 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be\n now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the\n readiness is all: since no man has aught of what he\n leaves, what is't to leave betimes?\n\nENTER KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, LAERTES, LORDS, OSRIC, AND ATTENDANTS WITH FOILS &C.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.\n\n KING CLAUDIUS PUTS LAERTES' HAND INTO HAMLET'S\n\nHAMLET\n\n Give me your pardon, sir: I've done you wrong;\n But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.\n This presence knows,\n And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'd\n With sore distraction. What I have done,\n That might your nature, honour and exception\n Roughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.\n Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet:\n If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,\n And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,\n Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.\n Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so,\n Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;\n His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.\n Sir, in this audience,\n Let my disclaiming from a purposed evil\n Free me so far in your most generous thoughts,\n That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,\n And hurt my brother.\n\nLAERTES\n\n I am satisfied in nature,\n Whose motive, in this case, should stir me most\n To my revenge: but in my terms of honour\n I stand aloof; and will no reconcilement,\n Till by some elder masters, of known honour,\n I have a voice and precedent of peace,\n To keep my name ungored. But till that time,\n I do receive your offer'd love like love,\n And will not wrong it.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I embrace it freely;\n And will this brother's wager frankly play.\n Give us the foils. Come on.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Come, one for me.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignorance\n Your skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night,\n Stick fiery off indeed.\n\nLAERTES\n\n You mock me, sir.\n\nHAMLET\n\n No, by this hand.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Give them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,\n You know the wager?\n\nHAMLET\n\n Very well, my lord\n Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n I do not fear it; I have seen you both:\n But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.\n\nLAERTES\n\n This is too heavy, let me see another.\n\nHAMLET\n\n This likes me well. These foils have all a length?\n\n They prepare to play\n\nOSRIC\n\n Ay, my good lord.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Set me the stoops of wine upon that table.\n If Hamlet give the first or second hit,\n Or quit in answer of the third exchange,\n Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:\n The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;\n And in the cup an union shall he throw,\n Richer than that which four successive kings\n In Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;\n And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,\n The trumpet to the cannoneer without,\n The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,\n 'Now the king dunks to Hamlet.' Come, begin:\n And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Come on, sir.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Come, my lord.\n\n They play\n\nHAMLET\n\n One.\n\nLAERTES\n\n No.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Judgment.\n\nOSRIC\n\n A hit, a very palpable hit.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Well; again.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Stay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;\n Here's to thy health.\n\n Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within\n Give him the cup.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I'll play this bout first; set it by awhile. Come.\n\n They play\n Another hit; what say you?\n\nLAERTES\n\n A touch, a touch, I do confess.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Our son shall win.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n He's fat, and scant of breath.\n Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows;\n The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Good madam!\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Gertrude, do not drink.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n I will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n [Aside] It is the poison'd cup: it is too late.\n\nHAMLET\n\n I dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n Come, let me wipe thy face.\n\nLAERTES\n\n My lord, I'll hit him now.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n I do not think't.\n\nLAERTES\n\n [Aside] And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Come, for the third, Laertes: you but dally;\n I pray you, pass with your best violence;\n I am afeard you make a wanton of me.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Say you so? come on.\n\n They play\n\nOSRIC\n\n Nothing, neither way.\n\nLAERTES\n\n Have at you now!\n\n LAERTES WOUNDS HAMLET; THEN IN SCUFFLING, THEY CHANGE RAPIERS; AND HAMLET WOUNDSLAERTES\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n Part them; they are incensed.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Nay, come, again.\n\n QUEEN GERTRUDE FALLS\n\nOSRIC\n\n Look to the queen there, ho!\n\nHORATIO\n\n They bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?\n\nOSRIC\n\n How is't, Laertes?\n\nLAERTES\n\n Why, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric;\n I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.\n\nHAMLET\n\n How does the queen?\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n She swounds to see them bleed.\n\nQUEEN GERTRUDE\n\n No, no, the drink, the drink,--O my dear Hamlet,--\n The drink, the drink! I am poison'd.\n\nDIES\n\nHAMLET\n\n O villainy! Ho! let the door be lock'd:\n Treachery! Seek it out.\n\nLAERTES\n\n It is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain;\n No medicine in the world can do thee good;\n In thee there is not half an hour of life;\n The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,\n Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practise\n Hath turn'd itself on me lo, here I lie,\n Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd:\n I can no more: the king, the king's to blame.\n\nHAMLET\n\n The point!--envenom'd too!\n Then, venom, to thy work.\n\nSTABS KING CLAUDIUS\n\nALL\n\n Treason! treason!\n\nKING CLAUDIUS\n\n O, yet defend me, friends; I am but hurt.\n\nHAMLET\n\n Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,\n Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?\n Follow my mother.\n\nKING CLAUDIUS DIES\n\nLAERTES\n\n He is justly served;\n It is a poison temper'd by himself.\n Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:\n Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,\n Nor thine on me.\n\nDIES\n\nHAMLET\n\n Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.\n I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!\n You that look pale and tremble at this chance,\n That are but mutes or audience to this act,\n Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death,\n Is strict in his arrest--O, I could tell you--\n But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;\n Thou livest; report me and my cause aright\n To the unsatisfied.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Never believe it:\n I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:\n Here's yet some liquor left.\n\nHAMLET\n\n As thou'rt a man,\n Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't.\n O good Horatio, what a wounded name,\n Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!\n If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart\n Absent thee from felicity awhile,\n And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,\n To tell my story.\n\n March afar off, and shot within\n What warlike noise is this?\n\nOSRIC\n\n Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,\n To the ambassadors of England gives\n This warlike volley.\n\nHAMLET\n\n O, I die, Horatio;\n The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit:\n I cannot live to hear the news from England;\n But I do prophesy the election lights\n On Fortinbras: he has my dying voice;\n So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,\n Which have solicited. The rest is silence.\n\nDIES\n\nHORATIO\n\n Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:\n And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!\n Why does the drum come hither?\n\nMARCH WITHIN\n\nENTER FORTINBRAS, THE ENGLISH AMBASSADORS, AND OTHERS\n\nPRINCE FORTINBRAS\n\n Where is this sight?\n\nHORATIO\n\n What is it ye would see?\n If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.\n\nPRINCE FORTINBRAS\n\n This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,\n What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,\n That thou so many princes at a shot\n So bloodily hast struck?\n\nFIRST AMBASSADOR\n\n The sight is dismal;\n And our affairs from England come too late:\n The ears are senseless that should give us hearing,\n To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,\n That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:\n Where should we have our thanks?\n\nHORATIO\n\n Not from his mouth,\n Had it the ability of life to thank you:\n He never gave commandment for their death.\n But since, so jump upon this bloody question,\n You from the Polack wars, and you from England,\n Are here arrived give order that these bodies\n High on a stage be placed to the view;\n And let me speak to the yet unknowing world\n How these things came about: so shall you hear\n Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,\n Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,\n Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,\n And, in this upshot, purposes mistook\n Fall'n on the inventors' reads: all this can I\n Truly deliver.\n\nPRINCE FORTINBRAS\n\n Let us haste to hear it,\n And call the noblest to the audience.\n For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune:\n I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,\n Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.\n\nHORATIO\n\n Of that I shall have also cause to speak,\n And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more;\n But let this same be presently perform'd,\n Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischance\n On plots and errors, happen.\n\nPRINCE FORTINBRAS\n\n Let four captains\n Bear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;\n For he was likely, had he been put on,\n To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,\n The soldiers' music and the rites of war\n Speak loudly for him.\n Take up the bodies: such a sight as this\n Becomes the field, but here shows much amiss.\n Go, bid the soldiers shoot.\n\nA DEAD MARCH. EXEUNT, BEARING OFF THE DEADBODIES; AFTER WHICH A PEAL OF ORDNANCE IS SHOT OFF."},{"_id":"3e3f791cc44059fa4900001d","treeId":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","seq":1,"position":7,"parentId":"3e3f5dadc44059fa49000010","content":"## Sources\n\n* **Summary**: http://www.bardstage.org/summary-of-hamlet-and-characters.htm\n* **Acts**: http://shakespeare.about.com/od/hamlet/\n* **Scenes**: http://www.sparknotes.com/shakespeare/hamlet/\n* **Dialogs**: http://shakespeare.mit.edu/hamlet/\n* **Image**: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/4/4e/Bernhardt_Hamlet2.jpg"}],"tree":{"_id":"3e3f5c53c44059fa4900000d","name":"Hamlet","publicUrl":"hamlet"}}