ACT IV.
Scene I. A room in the Castle.
[Enter King, Queen, Rosencrantz
and Guildenstern.]
King.There's matter in these
sighs. These profound heavesYou
must translate: 'tis fit we
understand them.Where is your
son?
Queen.Bestow this place on us
a little while.
[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern,
who go out.]
Ah, my good lord, what have I
seen to-night!
King.What, Gertrude? How does
Hamlet?
Queen.Mad as the sea and wind,
when both contendWhich is the
mightier: in his lawless fitBehind
the arras hearing something
stir,Whips out his rapier,
cries 'A rat, a rat!'And in
this brainish apprehension,
killsThe unseen good old man.
King.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 providenceShould
have kept short, restrain'd,
and out of hauntThis mad young
man. But so much was our loveWe
would not understand what was
most fit;But, like the owner
of a foul disease,To keep it
from divulging, let it feedEven
on the pith of life. Where
is he gone?
Queen.To draw apart the body
he hath kill'd:O'er whom his
very madness, like some oreAmong
a mineral of metals base,Shows
itself pure: he weeps for what
is done.
King.O Gertrude, come away!The
sun no sooner shall the mountains
touchBut we will ship him hence:
and this vile deedWe must with
all our majesty and skillBoth
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 bodyInto 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 doAnd 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.
[Exeunt.]
Scene II. Another room in the
Castle.
[Enter Hamlet.]
Ham.Safely stowed.
Ros. and Guil.[Within.] Hamlet!
Lord Hamlet!
Ham.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 bedemanded of a sponge!--what
replication should be made
by the sonof 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 inthe
end: he keeps them, like an
ape, in the corner of his jaw;first
mouthed, to be last swallowed:
when he needs what you havegleaned,
it is but squeezing you, and,
sponge, you shall be dryagain.
Ros.I understand you not, my
lord.
Ham.I am glad of it: a knavish
speech sleeps in a foolish
ear.
Ros.My lord, you must tell us
where the body is and go with
us tothe king.
Ham.The body is with the king,
but the king is not with the
body.The king is a thing,--
Guil.A thing, my lord!
Ham.Of nothing: bring me to him.
Hide fox, and all after.
[Exeunt.]
Scene III. Another room in the
Castle.
[Enter King,attended.]
King.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 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 seemDeliberate
pause: diseases desperate grownBy
desperate appliance are reliev'd,Or
not at all.
[Enter Rosencrantz.]
How now! what hath befall'n?
Ros.Where the dead body is bestow'd,
my lord,We cannot get from
him.
King.But where is he?
Ros.Without, my lord; guarded,
to know your pleasure.
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 certainconvocation
of politic worms are e'en at
him. Your worm is youronly
emperor for diet: we fat all
creatures else to fat us, andwe
fat ourselves for maggots:
your fat king and your lean
beggaris but variable service,--two
dishes, but to one table: that'sthe
end.
King.Alas, alas!
Ham.A man may fish with the worm
that hath eat of a king, and
eatof 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 throughthe
guts of a beggar.
King.Where is Polonius?
Ham.In heaven: send thither to
see: if your messenger find
him notthere, seek him i' the
other place yourself. But,
indeed, if youfind him not
within this month, you shall
nose him as you go upthe 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 grieveFor
that which thou hast done,--must
send thee henceWith fiery quickness:
therefore prepare thyself;The
bark is ready, and the wind
at help,The associates tend,
and everything is bentFor England.
Ham.For England!
King.Ay, Hamlet.
Ham.Good.
King.So is it, if thou knew'st
our purposes.
Ham.I see a cherub that sees
them.--But, come; for England!--Farewell,
dear mother.
King.Thy loving father, Hamlet.
Ham.My mother: father and mother
is man and wife; man and wife
isone flesh; and so, my mother.--Come,
for England!
[Exit.]
King.Follow him at foot; tempt
him with speed aboard;Delay
it not; I'll have him hence
to-night:Away! for everything
is seal'd and doneThat 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 redAfter the
Danish sword, and thy free
awePays homage to us,--thou
mayst not coldly setOur 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
were ne'er begun.
[Exit.]
Scene IV. A plain in Denmark.
[Enter Fortinbras, and Forces
marching.]
For.Go, Captain, from me greet
the Danish king:Tell him that,
by his license, FortinbrasCraves
the conveyance of a promis'd
marchOver 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.
Capt.I will do't, my lord.
For.Go softly on.
[Exeunt all For. and Forces.]
[Enter Hamlet, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, &c.]
Ham.Good sir, whose powers are
these?
Capt.They are of Norway, sir.
Ham.How purpos'd, sir, I pray
you?
Capt.Against some part of Poland.
Ham.Who commands them, sir?
Capt.The nephew to old Norway,
Fortinbras.
Ham.Goes it against the main
of Poland, sir,Or for some
frontier?
Capt.Truly to speak, and with
no addition,We go to gain a
little patch of groundThat
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 PoleA
ranker rate, should it be sold
in fee.
Ham.Why, then the Polack never
will defend it.
Capt.Yes, it is already garrison'd.
Ham.Two thousand souls and twenty
thousand ducatsWill not debate
the question of this straw:This
is the imposthume of much wealth
and peace,That inward breaks,
and shows no cause withoutWhy
the man dies.--I humbly thank
you, sir.
Capt.God b' wi' you, sir.
[Exit.]
Ros.Will't please you go, my
lord?
Ham.I'll be with you straight.
Go a little before.
[Exeunt all but Hamlet.]
How all occasions do inform against
meAnd spur my dull revenge!
What is a man,If his chief
good and market of his timeBe
but to sleep and feed? a beast,
no more.Sure he that made us
with such large discourse,Looking
before and after, gave us notThat
capability and godlike reasonTo
fust in us unus'd. Now, whether
it beBestial oblivion, or some
craven scrupleOf thinking too
precisely on the event,--A
thought which, quarter'd, hath
but one part wisdomAnd ever
three parts coward,--I do not
knowWhy yet I live to say 'This
thing's to do;'Sith I have
cause, and will, and strength,
and meansTo 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 unsureTo
all that fortune, death, and
danger dare,Even for an egg-shell.
Rightly to be greatIs not to
stir without great argument,But
greatly to find quarrel in
a strawWhen 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 seeThe
imminent death of twenty thousand
menThat, for a fantasy and
trick of fame,Go to their graves
like beds; fight for a plotWhereon
the numbers cannot try the
cause,Which is not tomb enough
and continentTo 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 and Horatio.]
Queen.I will not speak with her.
Gent.She is importunate; indeed
distract:Her mood will needs
be pitied.
Queen.What would she have?
Gent.She speaks much of her father;
says she hearsThere'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 moveThe
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.'Twere
good she were spoken with;
for she may strewDangerous
conjectures in ill-breeding
minds.
Queen.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.]
Oph.Where is the beauteous majesty
of Denmark?
Queen.How now, Ophelia?
Oph. [Sings.] How should I your
true love know From another
one? By his cockle bat and'
staff And his sandal shoon.
Queen.Alas, sweet lady, what
imports this song?
Oph.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.Nay, but Ophelia--
Oph.Pray you, mark.[Sings.] White
his shroud as the mountain
snow,
[Enter King.]
Queen.Alas, look here, my lord!
Oph.[Sings.] 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 dild 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
atyour table!
King.Conceit upon her father.
Oph.Pray you, let's have no words
of this; but when they ask
you whatit means, say you this:[Sings.]
To-morrow is Saint Valentine's
day All in the morning bedtime,
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.Pretty Ophelia!
Oph.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 promis'd me to wed. 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 patient: but I cannotchoose
but weep, to think they would
lay him i' the cold ground.My
brother shall know of it: and
so I thank you for your goodcounsel.--Come,
my coach!--Good night, ladies;
good night, sweetladies; good
night, good night.
[Exit.]
King.Follow her close; give her
good watch, I pray you.
[Exit Horatio.]
O, this is the poison of deep
grief; it springsAll 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 authorOf
his own just remove: the people
muddied,Thick and and unwholesome
in their thoughts and whispersFor
good Polonius' death; and we
have done but greenlyIn hugger-mugger
to inter him: poor OpheliaDivided
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 earWith pestilent speeches
of his father's death;Wherein
necessity, of matter beggar'd,Will
nothing stick our person to
arraignIn ear and ear. O my
dear Gertrude, this,Like to
a murdering piece, in many
placesGive, me superfluous
death.
[A noise within.]
Queen.Alack, what noise is this?
King.Where are my Switzers? let
them guard the door.
[Enter a Gentleman.]
What is the matter?
Gent.Save yourself, my lord:The
ocean, overpeering of his list,Eats
not the flats with more impetuous
hasteThan young Laertes, in
a riotous head,O'erbears your
offices. 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.How cheerfully on the false
trail they cry!O, this is counter,
you false Danish dogs!
[A noise within.]
King.The doors are broke.
[Enter Laertes, armed; Danes
following.]
Laer.Where is this king?--Sirs,
stand you all without.
Danes.No, let's come in.
Laer.I pray you, give me leave.
Danes.We will, we will.
[They retire without the door.]
Laer.I thank you:--keep the door.--O
thou vile king,Give me my father!
Queen.Calmly, good Laertes.
Laer.That drop of blood that's
calm proclaims me bastard;Cries
cuckold to my father; brands
the harlotEven here, between
the chaste unsmirched browOf
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, Gertrude:--Speak, man.
Laer.Where is my father?
King.Dead.
Queen.But not by him.
King.Let him demand his fill.
Laer.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 reveng'dMost throughly for
my father.
King.Who shall stay you?
Laer.My will, not all the world:And
for my means, I'll husband
them so well,They shall go
far with little.
King.Good Laertes,If you desire
to know the certaintyOf your
dear father's death, is't writ
in your revengeThat, sweepstake,
you will draw both friend and
foe,Winner and loser?
Laer.None but his enemies.
King.Will you know them then?
Laer.To his good friends thus
wide I'll ope my arms;And,
like the kind life-rendering
pelican,Repast them with my
blood.
King.Why, now you speakLike 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 shall as
level to your judgment pierceAs
day does to your eye.
Danes.[Within] Let her come in.
Laer.How now! What noise is that?
[Re-enter Ophelia, fantastically
dressed with straws andflowers.]
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 witsShould be as mortal
as an old man's life?Nature
is fine in love; and where
'tis fine,It sends some precious
instance of itselfAfter the
thing it loves.
Oph.[Sings.] They bore him barefac'd
on the bier Hey no nonny, nonny,
hey nonny And on 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.
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 hismaster's daughter.
Laer.This nothing's more than
matter.
Oph.There's rosemary, that's
for remembrance; pray, love,remember:
and there is pansies, that's
for thoughts.
Laer.A document in madness,--thoughts
and remembrance fitted.
Oph.There's fennel for you, and
columbines:--there's rue for
you;and here's some for me:--we
may call it herb of grace o'Sundays:--O,
you must wear your rue with
a difference.--There's adaisy:--I
would give you some violets,
but they wither'd all whenmy
father died:--they say he made
a good end,--[Sings.] For bonny
sweet Robin is all my joy,--
Laer.Thought and affliction,
passion, hell itself,She turns
to favour and to prettiness.
Oph.[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 b' wi' ye.
[Exit.]
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
handThey 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 soulTo give it due content.
Laer.Let this be so;His means
of death, his obscure burial,--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.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.]
Hor.What are they that would
speak with me?
Servant.Sailors, sir: they say
they have letters for you.
Hor.Let them come in.
[Exit Servant.]
I do not know from what part
of the worldI should be greeted,
if not from Lord Hamlet.
[Enter Sailors.]
I Sailor.God bless you, sir.
Hor.Let him bless thee too.
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; ifyour
name be Horatio, as I am let
to know it is.
Hor.[Reads.] 'Horatio, when thou
shalt have overlookedthis,
give these fellows some means
to the king: they haveletters
for him. Ere we were two days
old at sea, a pirate ofvery
warlike appointment gave us
chase. Finding ourselves tooslow
of sail, we put on a compelled
valour, and in the grapple
Iboarded them: on the instant
they got clear of our ship;
so Ialone became their prisoner.
They have dealt with me like
thievesof mercy: but they knew
what they did; I am to do a
good turn forthem. Let the
king have the letters I have
sent; and repair thouto me
with as much haste as thou
wouldst fly death. I have wordsto
speak in thine ear will make
thee dumb; yet are they much
toolight for the bore of the
matter. These good fellows
will bringthee where I am.
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
hold their coursefor England:
of them I have much to tell
thee. Farewell.He that thou
knowest thine, HAMLET.'
Come, I will give you way for
these your letters;And do't
the speedier, that you may
direct meTo him from whom you
brought them.
[Exeunt.]
Scene VII. Another room in the
Castle.
[Enter King and Laertes.]
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
slainPursu'd my life.
Laer.It well appears:--but tell
meWhy 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.O, for two special reasons;Which
may to you, perhaps, seem much
unsinew'd,But yet to me they
are strong. The queen his motherLives
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.
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 ageFor
her perfections:--but my revenge
will come.
King.Break not your sleeps for
that:--you must not thinkThat
we are made of stuff so flat
and dullThat 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,--
[Enter a Messenger.]
How now! What news?
Mess.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
themOf him that brought them.
King.Laertes, you shall hear
them.Leave us.
[Exit Messenger.]
[Reads]'High and mighty,--You
shall know I am set naked on
yourkingdom. To-morrow shall
I beg leave to see your kingly
eyes:when I shall, first asking
your pardon thereunto, recount
theoccasions 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?
Laer.Know you the hand?
King.'Tis Hamlet's character:--'Naked!'--And
in a postscript here, he says
'alone.'Can you advise me?
Laer.I am lost in it, my lord.
But let him come;It warms the
very sickness in my heartThat
I shall live and tell him to
his teeth,'Thus didest thou.'
King.If it be so, Laertes,--As
how should it be so? how otherwise?--Will
you be rul'd by me?
Laer.Ay, my lord;So you will
not o'errule me to a peace.
King.To thine own peace. If he
be now return'd--As checking
at his voyage, and that he
meansNo more to undertake it,--I
will work himTo exploit, now
ripe in my device,Under the
which he shall not choose but
fall:And for his death no wind
shall breathe;But even his
mother shall uncharge the practiceAnd
call it accident.
Laer.My lord, I will be rul'd;The
rather if you could devise
it soThat 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 qualityWherein they say
you shine: your sum of partsDid
not together pluck such envy
from himAs did that one; and
that, in my regard,Of the unworthiest
siege.
Laer.What part is that, my lord?
King.A very riband in the cap
of youth,Yet needful too; for
youth no less becomesThe light
and careless livery that it
wearsThan 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 serv'd against, the French,And
they can well on horseback:
but this gallantHad witchcraft
in't: he grew unto his seat;And
to such wondrous doing brought
his horse,As had he been incorps'd
and demi-natur'dWith the brave
beast: so far he topp'd my
thoughtThat I, in forgery of
shapes and tricks,Come short
of what he did.
Laer.A Norman was't?
King.A Norman.
Laer.Upon my life, Lamond.
King.The very same.
Laer.I know him well: he is the
brooch indeedAnd gem of all
the nation.
King.He made confession of you;And
gave you such a masterly reportFor
art and exercise in your defence,And
for your rapier most especially,That
he cried out, 'twould be a
sight indeedIf one could match
you: the scrimers of their
nationHe swore, had neither
motion, guard, nor eye,If you
oppos'd them. Sir, this report
of hisDid Hamlet so envenom
with his envyThat he could
nothing do but wish and begYour
sudden coming o'er, to play
with him.Now, out of this,--
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;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 loveA
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 manyAs 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
undertakeTo show yourself your
father's son in deedMore than
in words?
Laer.To cut his throat i' the
church.
King.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 excellenceAnd
set a double varnish on the
fameThe Frenchman gave you;
bring you in fine togetherAnd
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 chooseA sword unbated,
and, in a pass of practice,Requite
him for your father.
Laer.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
virtueUnder the moon, can save
the thing from deathThis is
but scratch'd withal: I'll
touch my pointWith this contagion,
that, if I gall him slightly,It
may be death.
King.Let's further think of this;Weigh
what convenience both of time
and meansMay 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 projectShould have a back
or second, that might holdIf
this did 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 prepar'd himA
chalice for the nonce; whereon
but sipping,If he by chance
escape your venom'd stuck,Our
purpose may hold there.
[Enter Queen.]
How now, sweet queen!
Queen.One woe doth tread upon
another's heel,So fast they
follow:--your sister's drown'd,
Laertes.
Laer.Drown'd! O, where?
Queen.There is a willow grows
aslant a brook,That shows his
hoar leaves in the glassy stream;There
with fantastic garlands did
she comeOf crowflowers, 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 pendant boughs her coronet
weedsClamb'ring to hang, an
envious sliver broke;When down
her weedy trophies and herselfFell
in the weeping brook. Her clothes
spread wide;And, mermaid-like,
awhile they bore her up;Which
time she chaunted snatches
of old tunes;As one incapable
of her own distress,Or like
a creature native and indu'dUnto
that element: but long it could
not beTill that her garments,
heavy with their drink,Pull'd
the poor wretch from her melodious
layTo muddy death.
Laer.Alas, then she is drown'd?
Queen.Drown'd, drown'd.
Laer.Too much of water hast thou,
poor Ophelia,And therefore
I forbid my tears: but yetIt
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.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.]
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