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Nor customary sutes of folemne black,
Nor windie fufpiration of forft breath,
No, nor the fruitfull riuer in the eye,
Nor the deiected hauior of the visage,
Together with all formes, moodes, Joapes * of griefe
That can deuote + me truely, these indeed seeme,
For they are actions that a man might play,
But I haue that within which passes showe,
These but the trappings and the suites of woe.
King. Tis sweete and commendable in your nature
To giue these mourning duties to your father,
But you must know your father loft a father,
That father loft, lost his, and the suruiuer bound
In filliall obligation for some tearme
To doe obsequious sorrowes, but to perseuer
In obstinate condolement, is a course
Of impious stubborneste, tis vnmanly griefe,
It showes a will most incorrect to heauen,
A hart vnfortified, or minde impatient.
An vnderstanding simple and vnschoold,
For what we know must be, and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sence,
Why should we in our peeuilh opposition
Take it to hart, fie, tis a fault to heauen,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd, whose common theame
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cryed
From the first course ř, till he that dyed to day
This must be so : we pray you throw to earth
This vnpreuailing woe, and thinke of vs
As of a father, for let the world take note
You are the most imediate to our throne,
And with no lesse nobility of loue
Then that which deareft father beares his fonne,
Doe I impart toward you for your intent,
In going back to schoole to Wittenberg,
It is most retrogard to our desire,
And we beseech you bend you to remaine
Heere in the cheare and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest courtier, cosin, and our sonne.
Quee. Let not thy mother loose her prayers Hamlet,
I pray thee ftay with vs, goe not to Wittenberg.
Ham. I fall in all my best obay you madam.
King. Why tis a louing and a faire reply,
Be as our seife in Denmarke, madam come,
This gentle and vnforc'd accord of Hamlet
Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof,
No iocond health that Denmarke drinkes to day,
But the great cannon to the clowdes shall tell.
And the kings rowse the heauen shall brute againe,
Respeaking earthly thunder ; come away.
Florisb. Exeunt all but Hamlet.
Ham. O that this too too fallied flesh would melt,
Thaw and refolue it felfe into a dew,
Or that the euerlasting had not fixt
His cannon gainst feale † Naughter, 6 God, God,
How wary, stale, flat, and vnprofitable
Seeme to me all the vses of this world ?
Fie on't, ah fie, tis an vnwecded garden,
That growes to seed, things ranck and grose in nature,
Possesse it meerely that it should come thus
But two months dead, nay not so much, not two,
So excellent a king, that was to this
Hyperion to a fatire, so louing to my mother,
That he might not beteeme the winds of heauen
Visit her face too roughly : heauen and earth
Must I remember, why she should hang on him
As if increase of appetite had growne
By what it fed on, and yet within a month,
Let me not thinke on't; frailty thy name is woman
A little month. On ere those shooes were old
With which the followed my poore fathers body
Like Niobe all teares, why she
O God! a beast that wants discourse of reason
Would haue mourn'd longer, married with my vncle,
My fathers brother, but no more like my father
Then I to Hercules, within a month,
Ere yet the salt of most vnrighteous teares
Had left the Alushing in her gauled eyes
She married oh! most wicked speed ; to post
With such dexterity to incestious sheetes,
It is not, nor it cannot come to good,
But breake my heart for I must hold my tongue.
Enter Horatio, Marcellus and Bernardo.
Hora. Haile to your lordshippe.
Ham. I am glad to see you well; Horatio, or I do forget
Hora. The fame my lord, and your poore feruant euer.
Ham. Sir my good friend, Ile change that name with you, And what make you from Wittenberg Horatio? ? Marcellus.
Mar. My good lord.
Ham. I am very glad to see you, (good euen sir) But what in faith make you from Wittenberg ?
Hora. A truant disposition good my lord.
Ham. I would not heare your enemie say so, Nor all you do my eare that violence
To make it truster of your owne report
Against your selfe, I know you are no truant,
But what is your affaire in Elfonoure?
Weele teach you for to drinke ere you depart.
Hora. My lord, I came to see your fathers funerall.
Ham. I prethee doe not mocke me fellow student, I thinke it was to my mothers wedding.
Hora. Indeed my lord it followed hard vpon.
Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio, the funerall bak’t meates
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables,
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or euer I had seene that day Horatio.
My father me thinkes I see my father.
Hora. Where my lord ?
Ham. In my mindes eye Horatio.
Hora. I saw him once, a was a goodly king.
Ham. A was a man take him for all in all
I shall not looke vpon his like againe.
Hora. My lord I thinke I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw, who?
Hora. My lord the king your father.
Ham. The king my father?
Hora. Season your admiration for a while
With an attentiue * eare till I may deliuer
Vpon the witnesse of these gentlemen
This maruaile to you.
Ham. For Gods loue let me heare ?
Hora. Two nights together had these gentlemen
Marcellus, and Barnardo, on their watch,
In the dead waft t and middle of the night
Beene thus incountred, a figure like your father
Armed at poynt, exactly Cap apea
Appeares before them, and with solemne march,
Goes Nowe and stately by them; thrice he walkt
By their opprest and feare surprised eyes,
Within this I tronchions length, whilst they distild
Almost to gelly, with the act of feare
Stand dumbe and speake not to him; this to me,
In dreadfull secrecy impart they did,
And I with them the third night kept the watch,
Whereas they had delivered both in time,
Forme of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparision comes : I knew your father,
The'e hands are not more like,
Ham. But where was this?
Mar. My lord vpon the platforme where wee watcht, ,
Ham. Did you not speake to it?
Nora. My lord I did,
But answer made it none, yet once mee thought
It lifted vp it * head and did addresse
It felfe to motion, like as it would speake:
But euen then the morning cock crew loude,
And at the found it shruncke in hast away
And vanisht from our sight.
Ham. Tis very strange.
Hora. As I doe liue my honor'd lord tis trae And wee did thinke it writ downe in our duety To let you know of it.
Ham. Indeede sirs but this troubles me,
Hold you the watch to night?
All. Wee doe my lord.
Ham. Arm'd say you ?
All. Arm'd my lord.
Ham. From top to toe ?
All. My lord from head to foote.
Haw. Then saw you not his face ?