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 pursu'st 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, adieu! remember me.

[Exit.

Ham. O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else? And shall I couple hell? O fye! - 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,

A

So be it!

Ham. I am sorry they offend you, heartily; yes, 'Faith, heartily. Hor.

There's no offence, my lord.

Ham. Yes, by St. 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'er-master it as you may. And now, good friends, As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers, Give me one poor request.

Come hither, gentlemen,

And lay your hands again upon my sword:
Swear by my sword,

Never to speak of this that you have heard.
Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear by his sword.

Ham. Well said, old mole! can'st work i'the earth so fast?

A worthy pioneer! Once more remove, good

friends.

-

Hor. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! Ham. And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. 1)

But come;

A

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 antick disposition on

That you, at such times seeing me, never shall
With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,
As, Well, well, we know ; - or, We could, and 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 : —

So

This do you swear,

grace and mercy at your most need help you! Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So, gentlemen, With all my love I do commend me to you:

And what so poor a man as Hamlet is

Such as it is, and for my own poor part,

Look you, I will go pray.

Hor. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

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.

Pol.

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!
It seems, 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.
Come.

[Exeunt.

Enter KING, QUEEN, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants.

King. Welcome, dear Rosencrantz, and GuilWris denstern!

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 I call it,
Since not 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, since, so neighbour'd to his youth and hu

mour,

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. 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 a while,
For the supply and profit of our hope,
Your visitation shall receive such thanks
As fits a king's remembrance.

Both your majesties

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

Guil.

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. Thanks, Rosencrantz, and gentle Guildenstern.

Queen. Thanks, Guildenstern, and gentle Ro

sencrantz :

And I beseech you instantly to visit

My too much changed son. - Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.

Pol. Have I, my lord? Assure you, 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 us'd to do,) that I have found The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.

in.

King. O, speak of that; that do I long to hear. Pol. Give first admittance to the embassadors; My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. King. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them [Exit POLONIUS. He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found The head and source of all your son's distemper. Queen. I doubt, it is no other but the main ; His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage. Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and CORNElius.

King. Well, we shall sift him. Welcome, my good friends!

Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?
Volt. 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 griev'd, —
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,

[Gives a paper.

That it might please you to give quiet pass
Through your dominions for this enterprize;
On such regards of safety, and allowance,
As therein are set down.

King.
It likes us well;
And, at our more consider'd time, we'll read,
Answer, and think upon this business.

Mean time, we thank you for your well-took labour:
Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together:
Most welcome home!

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.
More
matter, with less art./
Pol. 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.

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 :

Pol.
What do you think of me?
King. As of a man faithful and honourable.
Pol. I would fain prove so. But what might you
think,

When I had seen this hot love on the wing,
(As I perceiv'd 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 working, 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 did I bespeak;
Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy sphere;
This must not be and then 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.
Do you think, 'tis this?
Queen. It may be, very likely.
Pol. Hath there been such a time, (I'd fain know
that,)

Queen. But, look, where sadly the poor wretch

comes reading.

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

- O, give me leave.

[Exeunt KING, QUEEN, and Attendant. How does my good lord Hamlet? Ham. Well, god-'a-mercy.

Pol. Do you know me, my lord?

Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.
Pol. Not I, my lord.

Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man.
Pol. Honest, my lord?

Ham. Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand. Pol. That's very true, my lord.

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

Pol. I have, my lord.

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

Pol. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. Ham. 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 of which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, shall be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward.

Pol. Though this be madness, yet there's method in it. [Aside.] Will you walk out of the air, my lord? Ham. Into my grave?

--

Pol. Indeed, that is out o'the air. How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not se prosperously be delivered of. I will leave

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

Pol. Fare you well, my lord.
Ham. These tedious old fools!

Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Pol. You go to seek the lord Hamlet; there he is. Ros. God save you, sir! [TO POLONIUS. [Exit POLONIUS.

Guil. My honour'd lord!
Ros. My most dear lord!

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

Ros. As the indifferent children of the earth. Guil. Happy, in that we are not overhappy; On fortune's cap we are not the very button. Ham. Nor the soles of her shoe?

Ros. Neither, my lord.

nay, speak.

Guil. What should we say, my lord?

Ham. 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.

Ros. To what end, my lord?

Ham. 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? Ros. What say you? [To GUILDENSTERN. Ham. Nay, then I have an eye of you; [Aside.] if you love me, hold not off.

Guil. My lord, we were sent for.

Ham. 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,

Guil. 'Faith, her privates we.

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

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

Ham. Then is dooms-day 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?

Guil. Prison, my lord?
Ham. Denmark's a prison.
Ros. Then is the world one.

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

Ros. We think not so, my lord.

Ham. 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.

Ro3. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind.

Ham. 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.

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

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

Ham. Then are our beggars, bodies; and our monarchs, and outstretch'd heroes, the beggars' shadows: Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I

cannot reason.

Ros. Guil. We'll wait upon you.

Ham. 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?

Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear, a half-penny. Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation?

so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a steril 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 faculties ! 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, nor woman neither; though, by your smiling, you seem to say so.

Ross. My lord, there is no such stuff in my thoughts.

Ham. Why did you laugh then, when I said, Man delights not me?

Ros. 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.

Ham. 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 humerous man shall end his part in peace: the clown shall make those laugh, whose lungs are tickled o'the sereg and the lady shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt for't. What players are they? Ros. Even those you were wont to take such delight in, the tragedians of the city.

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

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

Ham. Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city? Are they so followed? Ros. No, indeed, they are not.

Ham. How comes it? Do they grow rusty? Ros. Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: But there is, sir, an aiery of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyranically clapped for't: these are now the fashion; and so berattle the common stages, (so