Together with that fair and warlike form In which the majesty of buried Denmark Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge Mar. It is offended. [thee, speak. Ber. See! it stalks away. Hor. Stay; speak: speak. I charge thee, speak. [Exit Ghost. Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer. Ber. How now, Horatio? you tremble, and look pale:
Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you of it?
[believe, Hor. Before my God, I might not this Without the sensible and true avouch
That hath a stomach i 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. [Ber. 1 think it be no other, but even 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. Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
Is it not like the king? In the most high and palmy ¶¶ state of Rome, Hor. As thou art to thyself: A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, [dead Such was the very armour he had on, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted When he the ambitious Norway combated; Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets. So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle* He smote the sledded + Polack on the ice. 'Tis strange.
Mar. Thus twice before, and jump § at this
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. Hor. In what particular thought to work I know not;
But, in the gross and scope of mine opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state. Mar. 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 Who is't that can inform me ? [day; Hor. That can 1; 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 [him,) (For so this side of our known world esteem'd 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, [eo-mart || Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same And carriage of the article design'd ¶, [bras His fell to Hamlet: Now, sir, young Fortin- Of unimproved mettle hot and full **, Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there, Shark'd it up a list of landless resolutes, For food and diet, to some enterprise
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 dooms-day with eclipse. And even the like precurse of fierce events,— As harbingers preceding still the fates, And prologue to the omen ttt coming on, Have heaven and earth together démonstrated Unto our climatures and countrymen.-] Re-enter Ghost.
But soft; behold! lo, where it comes again! 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:
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, [Cock crows. Speak of it-stay, and speak.-Stop it, Mar- cellus.
Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partisan? Hor. Do, if it will not stand.
Polander, an inhabitant of Poland. The covenant to confirm that bargain. ++ Picked. It Resolution. Search. ttt Event.
The extravagavant and erring" spirit hies To his confine and of the truth herein This present object made probation +.
Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, This bird of dawning singeth all night long: And then they say no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, [charm, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. Hor. So have 1 heard, and do in part be. lieve it.
But, look! the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern 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? Mar. Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most convenient. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. A Room of State in the same. Enter the King, Queen, HAMLET, POLO- NIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNE- LIUS, Lords, and Attendants.
King. 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 of this warlike state, Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,- With one auspicious, and one-dropping eye; With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in mar- riage,
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 Fortin- bras,-
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 this dream of his advantage, He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, Importing the surrender of those lands Lost by his father, with all bands of law, To our most valiant brother.-So much for
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 despatch You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; Giving to you no further personal power To business with the king, more than the scope Of these dilated articles allow. Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty. [show our duty.
Cor. Vol. In that, and all things, will we King.We doubt it nothing; heartily farewell.
[Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS. And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of some suit; What is't, Laertes? You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, And lose your voice: What 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 Desmark to thy father. What wouldst thou have, Laertes ? Laer. My dread lord, Your leave and favour to return to France; From whence though willingly I came to Den- To show my duty in your coronation; [mark, Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France, [pardon.
And bow them to your gracious leave and King. Have you your father's leave? What [slow leave,
says Polonius? Pol. He bath, my lord, [wrung from me v 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. 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,-Ham. A little more than kin, and less than
kind T. King. How is it that the clouds still hang on yon? Ham. Not so, my lord, I am too much i'the Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted co[mark,
lour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on DenDo not, for ever, with thy valid lids ** Seek for thy noble father in the dust: Thou know'st 'tis common; all, that live, must Passing through nature to eternity. [die, Ham. Ay, madam, it is common. Queen. Why seems it so particular with thee? Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know
'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 haviour of the visage, Way, path. ¶ Nature, a **Lowering eyes
Wandering. § Bonds. little more than a kinsman, and less than a natural one.
Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, | But two months dead!-nay, not so much, not
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. '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 his; and the survivor bound In filial obligation, for some term
To do obsequious sorrow: But to perséver In obstinate condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief: It shows a will most incorrect to heaven; A heart unfortified, or mind impatient; An understanding simple and unschool'd: For what, we know, must be, and is as com-
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 reasoir 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. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet :
I pray thee, stay with us, go not to Wittenberg. Ham. I shall in all my best obey you,madam. King. 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 heaven shall bruit
Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. [Exeunt King, Queen, Lords, &c., POLONIUS, and LAERTES.
Ham. O, that this too too solid flesh would Thaw, and resolve § itself into a dew! [melt, Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd [God! His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in nature,
Possess it merely T. That it should come to this!
So excellent a king; that was, to this, [two: Hyperion** to a satyr: so loving to my mother, That he might not beteemtt the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember? why, she would hang on [As if increase of appetite had grown [him, By what it fed on: And yet,within a month,- Let me not think on't;-Frailty, thy name is
A little month; or ere those shoes were old, With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears;-why she, even she,- O heaven! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, [my uncle, Would have mourn'd longer,-married with My father's brother; but no more like my fa Than I to Hercules: Within a month; [ther 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, BERNARDO, and MAR- Hor. Hail to your lordship!
Ham. I am glad to see you well: Horatio,-or I do forget myself. Hor. The saine, my lord, and your poor [name with you. Ham. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that And what make you from Wittenberg, HoMarcellus?
Mar. My good lord,→→→ Ham. I am very glad to see you; good even, But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord. Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so: Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, To make it truster of your own report Against yourself: I know, you are no truant. But what is your affair in Elsinore? We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's [student;
funeral. Ham, I pray thee, do not mock me, fellowI think, it was to see my mother's wedding. Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. 'Would I had met my dearest 5 foe in heaven Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio !— My father, Methinks, I see my father. Hor. Where, My lord?
Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio. Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king. Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again.
Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight, Ham. Saw! who?
¶ Entirely. It was anciently the custom to give a cold entertainment at a funeral, $$ Chiefest.
Hor. My lord, the king your father. Ham. The king my father! Hor. Season your adıniration for a while With an attent* ear; till I may deliver, Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you. Ham. For God's love, let me hear. Hor. Two nights together had these gentle- Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, [men, In the dead waist and middle of the night, Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your Armed at point, exactly, cap-à-pé, [father, 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, Almost to jelly with the act of fear, [distill'd' Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to 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.
But where was this?| Hor. My lord, upon the platform where we Ham. Did you not speak to it? [watch'd. Hor. My lord, I did; But answer made it none: yet once, methonght, It lifted up its head, aud did address Itself to motion, like as it would speak: But, even then, the morning cock crew loud; And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, And vanish'd from our sight. Ham.
'Tis very strange. Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty, To let you know of it. [me. Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles Hold you the watch to-night? All.
Arm❜d, my lord. From top to toe?
All. My lord, from head to foot. Ham.
His face. Hor. O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver + Ham. What, look'd he frowningly? [up. Hor. A countenance more
In sorrow than in anger.
And fix'd his eyes upon you?
Hor. Most constantly. Нат.
I would, I had been there. Hor. It would have much amazed you. Ham. Very like, Very like: Stay'd it long? [tell a hundred. Hor. While one with moderate haste might Mar. Ber. Longer, longer.
Perchance, 'twill walk again. Hor.
I warrant, it will. Ham. If it assume any 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. Our duty to your honour. Ham. Your loves, as mine to you: "Fare- well.
Till then sit still, my soni: 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.
Laer. My necessaries are embark'd; fare- And, sister, as the winds give benefit, [well: And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, But let me hear from you. Oph. Do you doubt that ? Luer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood: [favour, A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, The pérfume and suppliance of a minute; No more. Oph. Laer.
And now no soil, nor cautel |, doth besmirch T The virtue of his will: but, you must fear, His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own For he himself is subject to his birth: He may not, as unvalued persons do, Carve for himself; for on his choice depends The safety and the health of the whole state; And therefore must his choice be 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 lose your honour may sustain,
+ That part of the helmet which may be lifted up. Sinews. Subticty, deceit. Discolour.
If with too credent ear you list + his songs; Or lose your heart; or your chaste treasure To his unmaster'd ‡ importunity. [open 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 ý 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. Oph. I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, [brother, As watchman to my heart: But, good my Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not his own read T.
Laer. 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. [shame; Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are staid for: There,-my blessing with you;
[Laying his Hand on LAERTES' Head. And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou charácter**. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportion'd thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel; But do not dull thy palm tt with entertain- [ware Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Be- Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in, Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice: Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
Laer. Farewell, Ophelia; and remember What I have said to you. [weh. Oph. 'Tis in my memory lock'd And you yourself shall keep the key of it. Luer. Farewell. Exit LAERTES.
Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you? Oph. So please you, something touching the Pol. Marry, well bethought: [lord Hamlet. '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 If it be so, (as so 'tis put on me, [bounteous: 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. Oph. He hath, my lord, of late, made many Of his affection to me. [tenders
Pol. Affection? puh! you speak like a green
Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? Oph. I do not know, my lord, what I should
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; But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy: And with a larger tether ¶¶¶ may he walk, For the apparel oft proclaims the man; [tion, Than may be given you: In few, Ophelia, And they in France, of the best rank and sta- Do not believe his vows; for they are brokAre most select and generous 5, chief in ers**** Neither a borrower, nor a lender be: [that. 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! Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
Not of that die which their investments show, But mere implorators tttt of unboly suits, Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds, The better to beguile. This is for all,- [forth, I would not, in plain terms, from this time Have you so slander any moment's leisure, As to give words or talk with the lord Hamlet. Look to't, I charge you; come your ways. Oph. I shall obey, my lord. [Exeunt.
Licentious. ** Write.
Economy.
fastened by a string to a stake, is tethered.
Company. ¶¶¶ Longer line; a horse
« ÎnapoiContinuă » |