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Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this.
[Exeunt Ros. and Guil.
Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends;
And let them know, both what we mean to do,
And what's untimely done: so, haply, slander,-
Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,
As level as the cannon to his blank,'
Transports his poison'd shot,-may miss our name,
And hit the woundless air.-O come away;
My soul is full of discord, and dismay.
SCENE II.-Another room in the same.
ter Hamlet.

[Exeunt. En

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

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Ros. What have you done, my lord, with the

dead body?

Ham. Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin. Ros. Tell us where 'tis; that we may take it thence,

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

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

Ros. Take you me for a sponge, my lord?

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

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

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

Ham. The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thingGuil. A thing, my lord?

Ham. Of nothing

and all after."

bring me to him. Hide fox, [Exeunt.

SCENE III-Another room in the same. Enter King, attended.

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

the

How dangerous is it, that this man goes loose!
Yet must not we put the strong law on him:
He's lov'd of the distracted multitude,
Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;
And, where 'tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd,
But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even,
This sudden sending him away must seem
Deliberate pause: Diseases, desperate grown,
By desperate appliance are reliev'd,

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King. Bring him before us.
Ros. Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord.
Enter Hamlet and Guildenstern.

King Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
Ham. At supper.

King. At supper? Where?

Ham. 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. Alas, alas!

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

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

Ham. In heaven; send thither to see: if your messenger find him not there, seck 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. Go seek him there. [To some Attendants. Ham. He will stay till you come.

[Exeunt Attendants, King. Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,

Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve
For that which thou hast done,-must send thee
hence

With fiery quickness: Therefore, prepare thyself;
The bark is ready, and the wind at help,3
The associates tend, and every thing is bent
For England.
For England?

for

Ham. King. Ham.

Good.

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

Ham. My mother: Father and mother is mar and wife; man and wife is one flesh; and so, my [Erit. mother. Come, for England.

King. Follow him at foot; tempt him with spect aboard;

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

The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
For like the hectic in my blood he rages,
And thou must cure me: Till I know 'tis done,
Howe'er my haps," my joys will ne'er begin. [Ex.
SCENE IV-A plain in Denmark. Enter For-
tinbras, and Forces, marching.

For. Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king; Tell him, that, by his license, Fortinbras

(2) A sport among children.

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Cap. The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras. Ham. Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, Or for some frontier?

Cap. Truly to speak, sir, 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.

Ham. Why, then the Polack3 never will defend it.
Cap. Yes, 'tis already garrison'd.
Ham. 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.
Cap. God be wi' you, sir. [Exit Captain.
Ros.
Will't please you go, my lord?
Ham. I will be with you straight. Go a little
before.
[Exeunt Ros. and Guil.
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 godlike reason,

To fust in us unus'd. 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,

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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

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Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough, and continent,
To hide the slain 1-0, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth. [Ex.
SCENE V-Elsinore. A room in the castle.
Enter Queen and Horatio.

Queen. I will not speak with her.
Hor. She is importunate; indeed, distract;

Her mood will needs be pitied.

Queen.
What would she have?
Hor. 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. 'Queen. 'Twere good she were spoken with; for Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds: she may strew [Exit Horatio. Each toy 10 seems prologue to some great amiss: To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is, So full of artless jealousy is guilt, It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

Let her come in.

Re-enter Horatio, with Ophelia.

Oph. Where is the beauteous majesty of Den.. mark?

Queen. How now, Ophelia?

Oph. How should I your true-love know

From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff,

And his sandal shoon.TM

[Singing.

Queen. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
Oph. Say you? nay, pray you, mark.
He is dead and gone, lady,

He is dead and gone;

At his head a grass-green turf,

At his heels a stone.

O, ho!

Queen. Nay, but Ophelia,

Oph.

[Sings.

White his shroud as the mountain snow.

Enter King.

Queen. Alas, look here, my lord,

Oph.

Pray you, mark.

{Smgs.

Larded all with sweet flowers;
Which bewept to the grave did go,
With true-love showers.

King. How do you, pretty lady?

Oph. Well, God 'ield's 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. Conceit upon her father.

Oph. Pray, let us have no words of this; but when they ask you, what it means, say you this:

(9) Guess. (10) Trifle. (12) Garnished.

(11) Shoe. (13) Reward.

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A

qn't

By Gis,' and by Saint Charily,'
Alack, and fie for shame!

Young men will do't, if they come to'l ;
By cock, they are to blame.

Quoth she, Before you tumbled me,
You promis'd me to wed;

[He answers.]

So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed,

King. How long hath she been thus? Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be pa tient: 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 couch! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies good night, good night, Ex. King. Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you. [Exit Horatio. O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's death: And now behold, O Gertrude, Gertrude,

When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions! First, her father slain;
Next, your son gone; and he most violent author
Of his own just remove: The people muddied,
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, er 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 stiek our person to arraign
In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering piece, in many places
Gives me superfluous death!
Queen.

A noise within.
Alack! what poise is this?

Enter a Gentleman,

King, Attend.
Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door
What is the matter?

Gent.
Save yourself, my lord;
The ocean, overpeering of his list,"
Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste,
Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,

O'erbears your officers! The rabble call him, lord:
And, as the world were now but to begin,

(1) Do on, i. e. put on. (2) Do up.
(3) Saints in the Roman-catholic calendar,
(4) Without judgment. (5) Privately,
(6) Guards, (7) Bounds, (8) Scent.

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Cries, cuckold, to my father; brands the harlot
Even here, between the chaste unsmirched1o brow
Of my true mother.
King.
What is the cause, Laertes,
That thy rebellion looks so giant-like ?—
Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person;
There's such divinity doth hedge a king,
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts little of his will.-Tell me, Laertes,
Why thou art thus incens'd; Let him go, Ger-
trude ;-
Speak, man.

Laer. Where is my father?

King. Queen.

Dead.

But not by him.

King. Let him demand his fill.
Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled

with:

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And, like the kind life-rend'ring pelican, : Repast them with my blood.

King. Why, now you speak Like a good child, and a true gentleman. That I am guiltless of your father's death, And am most sensibly in grief for it, It shail as level to your judgment 'pear,"1 As day does to your eye.

Danes. [Within.]

Let her come in.

Laer. How now! what noise is that?

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Enter Ophelia, fantastically dressed with straws
and flowers.

O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,
Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!-
By heaven, thy madness shall be paid with weight,
Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May '
Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!

O heavens! is't possible, a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?
Nature is fine' in love: and, where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of itself
After the thing it loves.

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

Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,

It could not move thus.

remembrance fitted.

That I must call't in question.
King.

So you shall;

[Exeunt.
En-

And where the offence is, let the great axe fail:
I pray you, go with me.
SCENE VI.-Another room in the same.
ter Horatio, and a Servant.

Hor. What are they, that would speak with me?
Sailors, sir;

Serv.

They say they have letters for you.
Hor.

'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.

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

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

Oph. You must sing, 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. Hor. [Reads.] Horatio, when thou shalt have Laer. This nothing's more than matter. Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; overlooked this, give these fellows some means to pray you, love, remember; and there is pansies, the king; they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike apthat's for thoughts. Laer. A document in madness; thoughts and pointment, gave us chace: Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valour; and Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines: in the grapple I boarded them on the instant they -there's rue for you; and here's some for me:- got clear of our ship; so I alone became their we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays:-you prisoner. They have dealt with me, like thieves may wear your rue with a difference.'-There's a of mercy; but they knew what they did; I am to daisy:-I would give you some violets; but they do a good turn for them. Let the king have the withered all, when my father died:-They say, he letters I have sent; and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou would'st fly death. made a good end,—— words to speak in thine ear, will make thee dumb; For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,— [Sings. yet are they much too light for the bore of the Laer. Thought' and affliction, passion, hell itself, matter. These good fellows will bring thee where Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their She turns to favour, and to prettiness. course for England: of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.

Oph, 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 'a mercy on his soul!

[Sings.

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

They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,
Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,
To you in satisfaction; but, if not,
Be you content to lend your patience to us,
And we shall jointly labour with your soul
To give it due content.

Let this be so;

Laer.
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,

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King. Now must your conscience my acquittance

seal,

And you must put me in your heart for friend;
Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
That he, which hath your noble father slain,
Pursu'd my life.
It well appears :-But tell me,
Laer.
Why you proceeded not against these feats,
So crimeful and so capital in nature,
As by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else,
You mainly were stirr'd up?

0, for two special reasons;
King,
Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd,"
But yet to me they are strong. The queen his

mother,

Lives almost by his looks; and for myself,
(My virtue, or my plague, be it either which,)
She is so conjunctive to my life and soul,
That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,
I could not but by her. The other motive,
Why to a public count I might not go,

(4) Melancholy.
(6) Deprived of strength.

(5) Since,

1

Is, the great love the general gender' bear him:
Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
Work like the spring2 that turneth wood to stone,
Convert his gyves to graces; so that my arrows,
Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind,
Would have reverted to my bow again,
And not where I had aim'd them.

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

That we are made of stuff so flat and dull,
That we can let our beard be shook with danger,
And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more:
I lov'd your father, and we love ourself;
And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine,-
How now? what news?

Mess.

Enter a Messenger.

Letters, my lord, from Hamlet:
This to your majesty; this to the queen.
King. From Hamlet! who brought them?
Mess. Sailors, my lord, they say: I saw them not:
They were given me by Claudio; he receiv'd them
Of him that brought them.
King.
Leave us.

Laertes, you shall hear them :-
[Exit Messenger.

As did that one; and that, in my regard,
Of the unworthiest siege.*

Laer.
What part is that, my lord?
King. A very ribband 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,

have seen myself, and serv'd against, the French,
And they can well on horseback: but this gallant
Had witchcraft in't; he grew unto his seat;
And to such wond'rous doing brought his horse,
As he had been incorps'd and demi-natur'd
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.

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A Norman, was't?

Upon my life, Lamord.

The very same.

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

King. He made confession of you; And gave you such a masterly report, For art and exercise in your defence. And for your rapier most especial, That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeed, If one could match you: the scrimers' of their na[Reads.] High and mighty, you shall know, I am He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye, set naked on your kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg if you oppos'd them: Sir, this report of his leave to see your kingly eyes; when I shall, first ask- Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy, ing your pardon thereunto, recount the occasion That he could nothing do, but wish and beg of my sudden and more strange return. Your sudden coming o'er, to play with you. Now, out of this,

Hamlet.

What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?.
Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?
Laer. Know you the hand?
King.

'Tis Hamlet's character. And, in a postscript here, he says, alone: Can you advise me?

Naked,

Laer. I am 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 diddest thou.

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So you will not o'er-rule me to a peace.
King. To thine own peace. If he be now
turn'd,-

re

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 practice,
And call it, accident.
Laer.

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

King.
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,

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tion,

Laer.
What out of this, my lord?
King. Laertes, was your father dear to you?
Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
A face without a heart?

Laer.

Why ask you this?
King. Not that I think, you did not love your

father;

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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

(5) Ornament.

(6) Science of defence, i. e. fencing.
(7) Fencers. (8) Daily experience.

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