Ghost of Hamlet's Father .


Who's there ?

Nay , answer me ; stand , and unfold yourself .

Long live the king !

Bernardo ?

He .

You come most carefully upon your hour .

'Tis now struck twelve ; get thee to bed , Francisco .

For this relief much thanks ; 'tis bitter cold ,
And I am sick at heart .

Have you had quiet guard ?

Not a mouse stirring .

Well , good-night .
If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus ,
The rivals of my watch , bid them make hasie .

I think I hear them . Stand , ho ! Who's there ?


Friends to this ground .

And liegemen to the Dane .

Give you good-night .

O ! farewell , honest soldier :
Who hath reliev'd you ?

Bernardo has my place .
Give you good-night .


Holla ! Bernardo !

Say ,
What ! is Horatio there ?

A piece of him .

Welcome , Horatio ; welcome , good Marcellus .

What ! has this thing appear'd again to-night ?

I have seen nothing .

Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy ,
And will not let belief take hold of him 
Touching this dreaded sight twice seen of us :
Therefore I have entreated him along 
With us to watch the minutes of this night ;
That if again this apparition come ,
He may approve our eyes and speak to it .

Tush , tush ! 'twill not appear .

Sit down awhile ,
And let us once again assail your ears ,
That are so fortified against our story ,
What we two nights have seen .

Well , sit we down ,
And let us hear Bernardo speak of this .

Last night of all ,
When yond same star that's westward from the pole 
Had made his course to illume that part of heaven 
Where now it burns , Marcellus and myself ,
The bell then beating one ,

Peace ! break thee off ; look , where it comes again !


In the same figure , like the king that's dead .

Thou art a scholar ; speak to it , Horatio .

Looks it not like the king ? mark it , Horatio .

Most like : it harrows me with fear and wonder .

It would be spoke to .

Question it , Horatio .

What art thou that usurp'st this time of night ,
Together with that fair and war-like form 
In which the majesty of buried Denmark 
Did sometimes march ? by heaven I charge thee , speak !

It is offended .

See ! it stalks away .

Stay ! speak , speak ! I charge thee , speak !


'Tis gone , and will not answer .

How now , Horatio ! you tremble and look pale :
Is not this something more than fantasy ?
What think you on 't ?

Before my God , I might not this believe 
Without the sensible and true avouch 
Of mine own eyes .

Is it not like the king ?

As thou-art to thyself :
Such was the very armour he had on 
When he the ambitious Norway combated ;
So frown'd he once , when , in an angry parle ,
He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice .
'Tis strange .

Thus twice before , and jump at this dead hour ,
With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch .

In what particular thought to work I know not ;
But in the gross and scope of my opinion ,
This bodes some strange eruption to our state .

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 day :
Who is 't that can inform me ?

That can I ;
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 ,
Dar'd to the combat ; in which our valiant Hamlet 
For so this side of our known world esteem'd him 
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 seiz'd of , to the conqueror ;
Against the which , a moiety competent 
Was gaged by our king ; which had return'd 
To the inheritance of Fortinbras ,
Had he been vanquisher ; as , by the same covenant ,
And carriage of the article design'd ,
His fell to Hamlet . Now , sir , young Fortinbras ,
Of unimproved mettle hot and full ,
Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there 
Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes ,
For food and diet , to some enterprise 
That hath a stomach in 't ; which is no other 
As it doth well appear unto our state 
But to recover of us , by strong hand 
And terms compulsative , 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 .

I think it be no other but e'en 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 .

A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye .
In the most high and palmy state of Rome ,
A little ere the mightiest Julius fell ,
The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead 
Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets ;
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 doomsday with eclipse ;
And even the like precurse of fierce events ,
As harbingers preceding still the fates 
And prologue to the omen coming on ,
Have heaven and earth together demonstrated 
Unto our climatures and countrymen .
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 ,


Speak of it : stay , and speak ! Stop it , Marcellus .

Shall I strike at it with my partisan ?

Do , if it will not stand .

'Tis here !

'Tis here !


'Tis gone !
We do it wrong , being so majestical ,
To offer it the show of violence ;
For it is , as the air , invulnerable ,
And our vain blows malicious mockery .

It was about to speak when the cock crew .

And then it started like a guilty thing 
Upon a fearful summons . I have heard ,
The cock , that is the trumpet to the morn ,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat 
Awake the god of day ; and at his warning ,
Whether in sea or fire , in earth or air ,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies 
To his confine ; and of the truth herein 
This present object made probation .

It faded on the crowing of the cock .
Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes 
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated ,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long ;
And then , they say , no spirit can walk abroad ;
The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike ,
No fairy takes , nor witch hath power to charm ,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time .

So have I heard and do in part believe 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 ?

Let's do't , I pray ; and I this morning know 
Where we shall find him most conveniently .


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 war-like state ,
Have we , as 'twere with a defeated joy ,
With one auspicious and one dropping eye ,
With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage ,
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 Fortinbras ,
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 the 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 him .
Now for ourself and for this time of meeting .
Thus much the business is : we have here writ 
To Norway , uncle of young Fortinbras ,
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 dispatch 
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 delated articles allow .
Farewell and let your haste commend your duty .

In that and all things will we show our duty .

In that and all things will we show our duty .

We doubt it nothing : heartily farewell .

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 Denmark to thy father .
What wouldst thou have , Laertes ?

Dread my lord ,
Your leave and favour to return to France ;
From whence though willingly I came to Denmark ,
To show my duty in your coronation ,
Yet now , I must confess , that duty done ,
My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France 
And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon .

Have you your father's leave ? What says Polonius ?

He hath , my lord , wrung from me my slow leave 
By laboursome petition , and at last 
Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent :
I do beseech you , give him leave to go .

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 ,

A little more than kin , and less than kind .

How is it that the clouds still hang on you ?

Not so , my lord ; I am too much i' the sun .

Good Hamlet , cast thy nighted colour off ,
And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark .
Do not for ever with thy vailed lids 
Seek for thy noble father in the dust :
Thou know'st 'tis common ; all that live must die ,
Passing through nature to eternity .

Ay , madam , it is common .

If it be ,
Why seems it so particular with thee ?

Seems , madam ! Nay , it is ; I know not 'seems .' 
'Tis not alone my inky cloak , good mother ,
Nor customary suits of solemn black ,
Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath ,
No , nor the fruitful river in the eye ,
Nor the dejected haviour of the visage ,
Together with all forms , modes , shows of grief ,
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 .

'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 , lost his ; and the survivor bound 
In filial obligation for some term 
To do obsequious sorrow ; but to persever 
In obstinate condolement is a course 
Of impious stubbornness ; 'tis unmanly grief :
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven ,
A heart unfortified , a mind impatient ,
An understanding simple and unschool'd :
For what we know must be and is as common 
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 reason 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 .

Let not thy mother lose her prayers , Hamlet :
I pray thee , stay with us ; go not to Wittenberg .

I shall in all my best obey you , madam .

Why , 'tis a loving and a fair reply :
Be as ourself in Denmark . Madam , come ;
This gentle and unforc'd 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 heavens shall bruit again ,
Re-speaking earthly thunder . Come away .


O ! that this too too solid flesh would melt ,
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew ;
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd 
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter ! O God ! O God !
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 . That it should come to this !
But two months dead : nay , not so much , not two :
So excellent a king ; that was , to this ,
Hyperion to a satyr ; so loving to my mother 
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven 
Visit her face too roughly . Heaven and earth !
Must I remember ? why , she would hang on him ,
As if increase of appetite had grown 
By what it fed on ; and yet , within a month ,
Let me not think on't : Frailty , thy name is woman !
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 God ! a beast , that wants discourse of reason ,
Would have mourn'd longer ,married with mine uncle ,
My father's brother , but no more like my father 
Than I to Hercules : within a month ,
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 !


Hail to your lordship !

I am glad to see you well :
Horatio , or I do forget myself .

The same , my lord , and your poor servant ever .

Sir , my good friend ; I'll change that name with you .
And what make you from Wittenberg , Horatio ?
Marcellus ?

My good lord ,

I am very glad to see you .

Good even , sir .
But what , in faith , make you from Wittenberg ?

A truant disposition , good my lord .

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 .

My lord , I came to see your father's funeral .

I pray thee , do not mock me , fellow-student ;
I think it was to see my mother's wedding .

Indeed , my lord , it follow'd hard upon .

Thrift , thrift , Horatio ! the funeral bak'd meats 
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables .
Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven 
Ere I had ever seen that day , Horatio !
My father , methinks I see my father .

O ! where , my lord ?

In my mind's eye , Horatio .

I saw him once ; he was a goodly king .

He was a man , take him for all in all ,
I shall not look upon his like again .

My lord , I think I saw him yesternight .

Saw who ?

My lord , the king your father .

The king , my father !

Season your admiration for a while 
With an attent ear , till I may deliver ,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen ,
This marvel to you .

For God's love , let me hear .

Two nights together had these gentlemen ,
Marcellus and Bernardo , on their watch ,
In the dead vast and middle of the night ,
Been thus encounter'd : a figure like your father ,
Armed at points exactly , cap-a-pe ,
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 , distill'd 
Almost to jelly with the act of fear ,
Stand dumb and speak not to him . This to me 
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 ?

My lord , upon the platform where we watch'd .

Did you not speak to it ?

My lord , I did ;
But answer made it none ; yet once methought 
It lifted up its head and 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 .

'Tis very strange .

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 .

Indeed , indeed , sirs , but this troubles me .
Hold you the watch to-night ?

We do , my lord .

We do , my lord .

Arm'd , say you ?

Arm'd , my lord .

Arm'd , my lord .

From top to toe ?

My lord , from head to foot .

My lord , from head to foot .

Then saw you not his face ?

O yes ! my lord ; he wore his beaver up .

What ! look'd he frowningly ?

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger .

Pale or red ?

Nay , very pale .

And fix'd his eyes upon you ?

Most constantly .

I would I had been there .

It would have much amaz'd you .

Very like , very like . Stay'd it long ?

While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred .

Longer , longer .

Longer , longer .

Not when I saw it .

His beard was grizzled , no ?

It was , as I have seen it in his life ,
A sable silver'd .

I will watch to-night ;
Perchance 'twill walk again .

I warrant it will .

If it assume my 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 .

Your loves , as mine to you . Farewell .

My father's spirit in arms ! all is not well ;
I doubt some foul play : would the night were come !
Till then sit still , my soul : foul deeds will rise ,
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them , to men's eyes .


My necessaries are embark'd ; farewell :
And , sister , as the winds give benefit 
And convoy is assistant , do not sleep ,
But let me hear from you .

Do you doubt that ?

For Hamlet , and the trifling of his favour ,
Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood ,
A violet in the youth of primy nature ,
Forward , not permanent , sweet , not lasting ,
The perfume and suppliance of a minute ;
No more .

No more but so ?

Think it no more :
For nature , crescent , does not grow alone 
In thews and bulk ; but , as this temple waxes ,
The inward service of the mind and soul 
Grows wide withal . Perhaps he loves you now ,
And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch 
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 unvalu'd 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 circumscrib'd 
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 loss your honour may sustain ,
If with too credent ear you list his songs ,
Or lose your heart , or your chaste treasure open 
To his unmaster'd importunity .
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 maid is prodigal enough 
If she unmask her beauty to the moon ;
Virtue herself 'scapes not calumnious strokes ;
The canker galls the infants of the spring 
Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd ,
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 .

I shall th' effect of this good lesson keep ,
As watchman to my heart . But , good my brother ,
Do not , as some ungracious pastors do ,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven ,
Whiles , like a puff'd and reckless libertine ,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads ,
And recks not his own rede .

O ! fear me not .
I stay too long ; but here my father comes .


A double blessing is a double grace ;

Occasion smiles upon a second leave .

Yet here , Laertes ! aboard , aboard , for shame !
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail ,
And you are stay'd for . There , my blessing with thee !
And these few precepts in thy memory 
Look thou character . 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 hoops of steel ;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 
Of each new-hatch'd , unfledg'd comrade . Beware 
Of entrance to a quarrel , but , being in ,
Bear 't that th' opposed 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 ,
But not express'd in fancy ; rich , not gaudy ;
For the apparel oft proclaims the man ,
And they in France of the best rank and station 
Are most select and generous , chief in that .
Neither a borrower , nor a lender be ;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend ,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry .
This above all : to thine own self 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 !

Most humbly do I take my leave , my lord .

The time invites you ; go , your servants tend .

Farewell , Ophelia ; and remember well 
What I have said to you .

'Tis in my memory lock'd ,
And you yourself shall keep the key of it .

Farewell .


What is 't , Ophelia , he hath said to you ?

So please you , something touching the Lord Hamlet .

Marry , well bethought :
'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 bounteous .
If it be so ,as so 'tis put on me ,
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 .

He hath , my lord , of late made many tenders 
Of his affection to me .

Affection ! pooh ! you speak like a green girl ,
Unsifted in such perilous circumstance .
Do you believe his tenders , as you call them ?

I do not know , my lord , what I should think .

Marry , I'll teach you : think yourself a baby ,
That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay ,
Which are not sterling . Tender yourself more dearly ;
Or ,not to crack the wind of the poor phrase ,
Running it thus ,you'll tender me a fool .

My lord , he hath importun'd me with love 
In honourable fashion .

Ay , fashion you may call it : go to , go to .

And hath given countenance to his speech , my lord ,
With almost all the holy vows of heaven .

Ay , springes to catch woodcocks . I do know ,
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 ,
And with a larger tether may he walk 
Than may be given you : in few , Ophelia ,
Do not believe his vows , for they are brokers ,
Not of that dye which their investments show ,
But mere implorators of unholy suits ,
Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds ,
The better to beguile . This is for all :
I would not , in plain terms , from this time forth ,
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 .

I shall obey , my lord .


The air bites shrewdly ; it is very cold .

It is a nipping and an eager air .

What hour now ?

I think it lacks of twelve .

No , it is struck .

Indeed ? I heard it not : then it draws near the season 
Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk .

What does this mean , my lord ?

The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse ,
Keeps wassail , and the swaggering up-spring reels ;
And , as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down ,
The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out 
The triumph of his pledge .

Is it a custom ?

Ay , marry , is 't :
But to my mind ,though I am native here 
And to the manner born ,it is a custom 
More honour'd in the breach than the observance .
This heavy-headed revel east and west 
Makes us traduc'd and tax'd of other nations ;
They clepe us drunkards , and with swinish phrase 
Soil our addition ; and indeed it takes 
From our achievements , though perform'd at height ,
The pith and marrow of our attribute .
So , oft it chances in particular men ,
That for some vicious mole of nature in them ,
As , in their birth ,wherein they are not guilty ,
Since nature cannot choose his origin ,
By the o'ergrowth of some complexion ,
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason ,
Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens 
The form of plausive manners ; that these men ,
Carrying , I say , the stamp of one defect ,
Being nature's livery , or fortune's star ,
Their virtues else , be they as pure as grace ,
As infinite as man may undergo ,
Shall in the general censure take corruption 
From that particular fault : the dram of eale 
Doth all the noble substance of a doubt ,
To his own scandal .


Look , my lord , it comes .

Angels and ministers of grace defend us !
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd ,
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell ,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable ,
Thou com'st in such a questionable shape 
That I will speak to thee : I'll call thee Hamlet ,
King , father ; royal Dane , O ! answer me :
Let me not burst in ignorance ; but tell 
Why thy canoniz'd bones , hearsed in death ,
Have burst their cerements ; why the sepulchre ,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd ,
Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws ,
To cast thee up again . What may this mean ,
That thou , dead corse , again in complete steel 
Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon ,
Making night hideous ; and we fools of nature 
So horridly to shake our disposition 
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls ?
Say , why is this ? wherefore ? what should we do ?


It beckons you to go away with it ,
As if it some impartment did desire 
To you alone .

Look , with what courteous action 
It waves you to a more removed ground :
But do not go with it .

No , by no means .

It will not speak ; then , will I follow it .

Do not , my lord .

Why , what should be the fear ?
I do not set my life at a pin's fee ;
And for my soul , what can it do to that ,
Being a thing immortal as itself ?
It waves me forth again ; I'll follow it .

What if it tempt you toward the flood , my lord ,
Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff 
That beetles o'er his base into the sea ,
And there assume some other horrible form ,
Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason 
And draw you into madness ? think of it ;
The very place puts toys of desperation ,
Without more motive , into every brain 
That looks so many fathoms to the sea 
And hears it roar beneath .

It waves me still . Go on , I'll follow thee .

You shall not go , my lord .

Hold off your hands !

Be rul'd ; you shall not go .

My fate cries out ,
And makes each petty artery in this body 
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve .

Still am I call'd . Unhand me , gentlemen ,

By heaven ! I'll make a ghost of him that lets me :
I say , away ! Go on , I'll follow thee .


He wares desperate with imagination .

Let's follow ; 'tis not fit thus to obey him .

Have after . To what issue will this come ?

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark .

Heaven will direct it .

Nay , let's follow him .


Whither wilt thou lead me ? speak ; I'll go no further .

Mark me .

I will .

My hour is almost come ,
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames 
Must render up myself .

Alas ! poor ghost .

Pity me not , but lend thy serious hearing 
To what I shall unfold .

Speak ; I am bound to hear .

So art thou to revenge , when thou shalt hear .

What ?

I am thy father's spirit ;
Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night ,
And for the day confin'd to fast in fires ,
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature 
Are burnt and purg'd away . But that I am forbid 
To tell the secrets of my prison-house ,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word 
Would harrow up thy soul , freeze thy young blood ,
Make thy two eyes , like stars , start from their spheres ,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part ,
And each particular hair to stand an end ,
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine :
But this eternal blazon must not be 
To ears of flesh and blood . List , list , O list !
If thou didst ever thy dear father love 

O God !

Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder .

Murder !

Murder most foul , as in the best it is ;
But this most foul , strange , and unnatural .

Haste me to know't , that I , with wings as swift 
As meditation or the thoughts of love ,
May sweep to my revenge .

I find thee apt ;
And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed 
That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf ,
Wouldst thou not stir in this . Now , Hamlet , hear :
'Tis given out that , sleeping in mine orchard ,
A serpent stung me ; so the whole ear of Denmark 
Is by a forged process of my death 
Rankly abus'd ; but know , thou noble youth ,
The serpent that did sting thy father's life 
Now wears his crown .

O my prophetic soul !
My uncle !

Ay , that incestuous , that adulterate beast ,
With witchcraft of his wit , with traitorous gifts ,
O wicked wit and gifts , that have the power 
So to seduce !won to his shameful lust 
The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen .
O Hamlet ! what a falling-off was there ;
From me , whose love was of that dignity 
That it went hand in hand even with the vow 
I made to her in marriage ; and to decline 
Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor 
To those of mine !
But virtue , as it never will be mov'd ,
Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven ,
So lust , though to a radiant angel link'd ,
Will sate itself in a celestial bed ,
And prey on garbage .
But , soft ! methinks I scent the morning air ;
Brief let me be . Sleeping within mine orchard ,
My custom always in the afternoon ,
Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole ,
With juice of cursed hebona in a vial ,
And in the porches of mine ears did pour 
The leperous distilment ; whose effect 
Holds such an enmity with blood of man 
That swift as quicksilver it courses through 
The natural gates and alleys of the body ,
And with a sudden vigour it doth posset 
And curd , like eager droppings into milk ,
The thin and wholesome blood : so did it mine ;
And a most instant tetter bark'd about ,
Most lazar-like , with vile and loathsome crust ,
All my smooth body .
Thus was I , sleeping , by a brother's hand ,
Of life , of crown , of queen , at once dispatch'd ;
Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin ,
Unhousel'd , disappointed , unanel'd ,
No reckoning made , but sent to my account 
With all my imperfections on my head :
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 ! Hamlet , remember me .


O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! What else ?
And shall I couple hell ? O fie ! 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 ,
That one may smile , and smile , and be a villain ;
At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark :

So , uncle , there you are . Now to my word ;
It is , 'Adieu , adieu ! remember me .
I have sworn 't .

My lord ! my lord !

Lord Hamlet !

Heaven secure him !

So be it !

Hillo , ho , ho , my lord !

Hillo , ho , ho , boy ! come , bird , come .


How is't , my noble lord ?

What news , my lord ?

O ! wonderful .

Good my lord , tell it .

No ; you will reveal it .

Not I , my lord , by heaven !

Nor I , my lord .

How say you , then ; would heart of man once think it ?
But you'll be secret ?

Ay , by heaven , my lord .

Ay , by heaven , my lord .

There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark ,
But he's an arrant knave .

There needs no ghost , my lord , come from the grave ,
To tell us this .

Why , right ; you are i' the right ;
And so , without more circumstance at all ,
I hold it fit that we shake hands and part ;
You , as your business and desire shall point you ,
For every man hath business and desire ,
Such as it is ,and , for mine own poor part ,
Look you , I'll go pray .

These are but wild and whirling words , my lord .

I am sorry they offend you , heartily ;
Yes , faith , heartily .

There's no offence , my lord .

Yes , by Saint 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'ermaster't as you may . And now , good friends ,
As you are friends , scholars , and soldiers ,
Give me one poor request .

What is't , my lord ? we will .

Never make known what you have seen to-night .

My lord , we will not .

My lord , we will not .

Nay , but swear't .

In faith ,
My lord , not I .

Nor I , my lord , in faith .

Upon my sword .

We have sworn , my lord , already .

Indeed , upon my sword , indeed .

Swear .

Ah , ha , boy ! sayst thou so ? art thou there , true-penny ?
Come on ,you hear this fellow in the cellar-age ,
Consent to swear .

Propose the oath , my lord .

Never to speak of this that you have seen ,
Swear by my sword .

Swear .

Hic et ubique ? then we'll shift our ground .
Come hither , gentlemen ,
And lay your hands again upon my sword :
Never to speak of this that you have heard ,
Swear by my sword .

Swear .

Well said , old mole ! canst work i' the earth so fast ?
A worthy pioner ! once more remove , good friends .

O day and night , but this is wondrous strange !

And therefore as a stranger give it welcome .
There are more things in heaven and earth , Horatio ,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy .
But come ;
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 antic 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 , an 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 : this not to do ,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you ,
Swear .

Swear .


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 
May do , to express his love and friending to you ,
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 .

Give him this money and these notes , Reynaldo .

I will , my lord .

You shall do marvellous wisely , good Reynaldo ,
Before you visit him , to make inquiry 
Of his behaviour .

My lord , I did intend it .

Marry , well said , very well said . Look you , sir ,
Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris ;
And how , and who , what means , and where they keep ,
What company , at what expense ; and finding 
By this encompassment and drift of question 
That they do know my son , come you more nearer 
Than your particular demands will touch it :
Take you , as 'twere , some distant knowledge of him ;
As thus , 'I know his father , and his friends ,
And , in part , him ;' do you mark this , Reynaldo ?

Ay , very well , my lord .

'And , in part , him ; but ,' you may say , 'not well :
But if't be he I mean , he's very wild ,
Addicted so and so ;' and there put on him 
What forgeries you please ; marry , none so rank 
As may dishonour him ; take heed of that ;
But , sir , such wanton , wild , and usual slips 
As are companions noted and most known 
To youth and liberty .

As gaming , my lord ?

Ay , or drinking , fencing , swearing , quarrelling ,
Drabbing ; you may go so far .

My lord , that would dishonour him .

Faith , no ; as you may season it in the charge .
You must not put another scandal on him ,
That he is open to incontinency ;
That's not my meaning ; but breathe his faults so quaintly 
That they may seem the taints of liberty ,
The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind ,
A savageness in unreclaimed blood ,
Of general assault .

But , my good lord ,

Wherefore should you do this ?

Ay , my lord ,
I would know that .

Marry , sir , here's my drift ;
And , I believe , it is a fetch of warrant :
You laying these slight sullies on my son ,
As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working ,
Mark you ,
Your party in converse , him you would sound ,
Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes 
The youth you breathe of guilty , be assur'd ,
He closes with you in this consequence ;
'Good sir ,' or so ; or 'friend ,' or 'gentleman ,' 
According to the phrase or the addition 
Of man and country .

Very good , my lord .

And then , sir , does he this ,he does ,what was I about to say ? By the mass I was about to say something : where did I leave ?

At 'closes in the consequence .' 
At 'friend or so ,' and 'gentleman .' 

At 'closes in the consequence ,' ay , marry ;
He closes with you thus : 'I know the gentleman ;
I saw him yesterday , or t' other day ,
Or then , or then ; with such , or such ; and , as you say ,
There was a' gaming ; there o'ertook in 's rouse ;
There falling out at tennis ;' or perchance ,
'I saw him enter such a house of sale ,' 
Videlicet , a brothel , or so forth .
See you now ;
Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth ;
And thus do we of wisdom and of reach ,
With windlasses , and with assays of bias ,
By indirections find directions out :
So by my former lecture and advice 
Shall you my son . You have me , have you not ?

My lord , I have .

God be wi' you ; fare you well .

Good my lord !

Observe his inclination in yourself .

I shall , my lord .

And let him ply his music .

Well , my lord .

Farewell !


How now , Ophelia ! what's the matter ?

Alas ! my lord , I have been so affrighted .

With what , in the name of God ?

My lord , as I was sewing in my closet ,
Lord Hamlet , with his doublet all unbrac'd ;
No hat upon his head ; his stockings foul'd ,
Ungarter'd , and down-gyved to his ancle ;
Pale as his shirt ; his knees knocking each other ;
And with a look so piteous in purport 
As if he had been loosed out of hell 
To speak of horrors , he comes before me .

Mad for thy love ?

My lord , I do not know ;
But truly I do fear it .

What said he ?

He took me by the wrist and held me hard ,
Then goes he to the length of all his arm ,
And , with his other hand thus o'er his brow ,
He falls to such perusal of my face 
As he would draw it . Long stay'd he so ;
At last , a little shaking of mine arm ,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down ,
He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound 
That it did seem to shatter all his bulk 
And end his being . That done , he lets me go ,
And , with his head over his shoulder turn'd ,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes ;
For out o' doors he went without their help ,
And to the last bended their light on me .

Come , go with me ; I will go seek the king .
This is the very ecstasy of love ,
Whose violent property fordoes itself 
And leads the will to desperate undertakings 
As oft as any passion under heaven 
That does afflict our natures . I am sorry .
What ! have you given him any hard words of late ?

No , my good lord ; but , as you did command ,
I did repel his letters and denied 
His access to me .

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 wrack thee ; but , beshrew my jealousy !
By heaven , 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 .


Welcome , dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern !
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 nor 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 humour ,
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 ,
Whe'r aught to us unknown afflicts him thus ,
That , open'd , lies within our remedy .

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

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

But we both obey ,
And here give up ourselves , in the full bent ,
To lay our service freely at your feet ,
To be commanded .

Thanks , Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern .

Thanks , Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz ;
And I beseech you instantly to visit 
My too much changed son . Go , some of you ,
And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is .

Heavens make our presence , and our practices 
Pleasant and helpful to him !

Ay , amen !

The ambassadors from Norway , my good lord ,
Are joyfully return'd .

Thou still hast been the father of good news .

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 .

O ! speak of that ; that do I long to hear .

Give first admittance to the ambassadors ;
My news shall be the fruit to that great feast .

Thyself do grace to them , and bring them in .

He tells me , my sweet queen , that he hath found 
The head and source of all your son's distemper .

I doubt it is no-other but the main ;
His father's death , and our o'erhasty marriage .

Well , we shall sift him .


Welcome , my good friends !

Say , Voltimand , what from our brother Norway ?

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 ,

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

It likes us well ;
And at our more consider'd time we'll read ,
Answer , and think upon this business :
Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour .
Go to your rest ; at night we'll feast together :
Most welcome home .


This business is well ended .
My liege , and madam , to expostulate 
What majesty should be , what duty is ,
Why day is day , night night , and time is time ,
Were nothing but to waste night , day , and time .
Therefore , since brevity is the soul of wit ,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes ,
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 .

More matter , with less art .

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 :
In her excellent white bosom , these ,  &c .

Came this from Hamlet to her ?

Good madam , stay awhile ; I will be faithful .

"Doubt thou the stars are fire ;
Doubt that the sun doth move ;
Doubt truth to be a liar ;
But never doubt I love .

O dear Ophelia ! I am ill at these numbers : I have not art to reckon my groans ; but that I love thee best , O most best ! believe it . Adieu .
Thine evermore , most dear lady , whilst this machine is to him ,HAMLET ."

This in obedience hath my daughter shown me ;
And more above , hath his solicitings ,
As they fell out by time , by means , and place ,
All given to mine ear .

But how hath she 
Receiv'd his love ?

What do you think of me ?

As of a man faithful and honourable .

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 winking , 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 I did bespeak :
'Lord Hamlet is a prince , out of thy star ;
This must not be :' and then I 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 wail for .

Do you think 'tis this ?

It may be , very likely .

Hath there been such a time ,I'd fain know that ,
That I have positively said , ''Tis so ,' 
When it prov'd otherwise ?

Not that I know .

Take this from this , if this be otherwise :

If circumstances lead me , I will find 
Where truth is hid , though it were hid indeed 
Within the centre .

How may we try it further ?

You know sometimes he walks four hours together 
Here in the lobby .

So he does indeed .

At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him ;
Be you and I behind an arras then ;
Mark the encounter ; if he love her not ,
And be not from his reason fallen thereon ,
Let me be no assistant for a state ,
But keep a farm , and carters .

We will try it .

But look , where sadly the poor wretch comes reading .

Away ! I do beseech you , both away .
I'll board him presently .

O ! give me leave .

How does my good Lord Hamlet ?

Well , God a-mercy .

Do you know me , my lord ?

Excellent well ; you are a fishmonger .

Not I , my lord .

Then I would you were so honest a man .

Honest , my lord !

Ay , sir ; to be honest , as this world goes , is to be one man picked out of ten thousand .

That's very true , my lord .

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

I have , my lord .

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

How say you by that ? Still harping on my daughter : yet he knew me not at first ; he said I was a fishmonger : he is far gone , far gone : and truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for love ; very near this . I'll speak to him again . What do you read , my lord ?

Words , words , words .

What is the matter , my lord ?

Between who ?

I mean the matter that you read , my lord .

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 which , sir , though I most powerfully and potently believe , yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down ; for you yourself , sir , should be old as I am , if , like a crab , you could go backward .

Though this be madness , yet there is method in 't . Will you walk out of the air , my lord ?

Into my grave ?

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 so prosperously be delivered of . I will leave him , and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter . My honourable lord , I will most humbly take my leave of you .

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

Fare you well , my lord .


These tedious old fools !


You go to seek the Lord Hamlet ; there he is .

God save you , sir !


Mine honoured lord !

My most dear lord !

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

As the indifferent children of the earth .

Happy in that we are not over happy ; On Fortune's cap we are not the very button .

Nor the soles of her shoe ?

Neither , my lord .

Then you live about her waist , or in the middle of her favours ?

Faith , her privates we .

In the secret parts of Fortune ? O ! most true ; she is a strumpet . What news ?

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

Then is doomsday 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 ?

Prison , my lord !

Denmark's a prison .

Then is the world one .

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

We think not so , my lord .

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 .

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

O God ! I could be bounded in a nutshell , and count myself a king of infinite space , were it not that I have bad dreams .

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

A dream itself is but a shadow .

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

Then are our beggars bodies , and our monarchs and outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows . Shall we to the court ? for , by my fay , I cannot reason .

We'll wait upon you .

We'll wait upon you .

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 ?

To visit you , my lord ; no other occasion .

Beggar that I am , I am even poor in thanks ; but I thank you : and sure , dear friends , my thanks are too dear a halfpenny . Were you not sent for ? Is it your own inclining ? Is it a free visitation ? Come , come , deal justly with me : come , come ; nay , speak .

What should we say , my lord ?

Why anything , 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 .

To what end , my lord ?

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 !

What say you ?

Nay , then , I have an eye of you . If you love me , hold not off .

My lord , we were sent for .

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 , forgone all custom of exercises ; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame , the earth , seems to me a sterile 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 but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours . What a piece of work is a man ! How noble in reason ! how infinite in faculty ! in form , in 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 ; no , nor woman neither , though , by your smiling , you seem to say so .

My lord , there was no such stuff in my thoughts .

Why did you laugh then , when I said , 'man delights not me ?' 

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 .

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 humorous man shall end his part in peace ; the clown shall make those laugh whose lungs are tickle o' the sere ; and the lady shall say her mind freely , or the blank verse shall halt for't . What players are they ?

Even those you were wont to take delight in , the tragedians of the city .

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

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

Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city ? Are they so followed ?

No , indeed they are not .

How comes it ? Do they grow rusty ?

Nay , their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace : but there is , sir , an aery of children , little eyases , that cry out on the top of question , and are most tyrannically clapped for't : these are now the fashion , and so berattle the common stages ,so they call them ,that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills , and dare scarce come thither .

What ! are they children ? who maintains 'em ? how are they escoted ? Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing ? will they not say afterwards , if they should grow themselves to common players ,as it is most like , if their means are no better ,their writers do them wrong , to make them exclaim against their own succession ?

Faith , there has been much to-do on both sides : and the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to controversy : there was , for a while , no money bid for argument , unless the poet and the player went to cuffs in the question .

Is it possible ?

O ! there has been much throwing about of brains .

Do the boys carry it away ?

Ay , that they do , my lord ; Hercules and his load too .

It is not very strange ; for my uncle is King of Denmark , and those that would make mows at him while my father lived , give twenty , forty , fifty , a hundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little . 'Sblood , there is something in this more than natural , if philosophy could find it out .


There are the players .

Gentlemen , you are welcome to Elsinore . Your hands , come then ; the appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony : let me comply with you in this garb , lest my extent to the players which , I tell you , must show fairly outward should more appear like entertainment than yours . You are welcome ; but my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived .

In what , my dear lord ?

I am but mad north-north-west : when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw .


Well be with you , gentlemen !

Hark you , Guildenstern ; and you too ; at each ear a hearer : that great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling-clouts .

Happily he's the second time come to them ; for they say an old man is twice a child .

I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players ; mark it . You say right , sir ; o' Monday morning ; 'twas so indeed .

My lord , I have news to tell you .

My lord , I have news to tell you . When Roscius was an actor in Rome ,

The actors are come hither , my lord .

Buzz , buzz !

Upon my honour ,

Then came each actor on his ass ,

The best actors in the world , either for tragedy , comedy , history , pastoral , pastoral-comical , historical-pastoral , tragical-historical , tragical-comical-historical-pastoral , scene individable , or poem unlimited : Seneca cannot be too heavy , nor Plautus too light . For the law of writ and the liberty , these are the only men .

O Jephthah , judge of Israel , what a treasure hadst thou !

What a treasure had he , my lord ?

Why 

One fair daughter and no more ,
The which he loved passing well .


Still on my daughter .

Am I not i' the right , old Jephthah ?

If you call me Jephthah , my lord , I have a daughter that I love passing well .

Nay , that follows not .

What follows , then , my lord ?

Why ,
As by lot , God wot .
And then , you know ,
It came to pass , as most like it was .
The first row of the pious chanson will show you more ; for look where my abridgment comes .

You are welcome , masters ; welcome , all . I am glad to see thee well : welcome , good friends . O , my old friend ! Thy face is valanced since I saw thee last : comest thou to beard me in Denmark ? What ! my young lady and mistress ! By 'r lady , your ladyship is nearer heaven than when I saw you last , by the altitude of a chopine . Pray God , your voice , like a piece of uncurrent gold , be not cracked within the ring . Masters , you are all welcome . We'll e'en to't like French falconers , fly at anything we see : we'll have a speech straight . Come , give us a taste of your quality ; come , a passionate speech .

What speech , my good lord ?

I heard thee speak me a speech once , but it was never acted ; or , if it was , not above once ; for the play , I remember , pleased not the million ; 'twas caviare to the general : but it was as I received it , and others , whose judgments in such matters cried in the top of mine an excellent play , well digested in the scenes , set down with as much modesty as cunning . I remember one said there were no sallets in the lines to make the matter savoury , nor no matter in the phrase that might indict the author of affectation ; but called it an honest method , as wholesome as sweet , and by very much more handsome than fine . One speech in it I chiefly loved ; 'twas  neas' tale to Dido ; and thereabout of it especially , where he speaks of Priam's slaughter . If it live in your memory , begin at this line : let me see , let me see :
Therugged Pyrrhus , like the Hyrcanian beast ,
'tis not so , it begins with Pyrrhus :
The rugged Pyrrhus , he whose sable arm ,
Black as his purpose , did the night resemble 
When he lay couched in the ominous horse ,
Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd 
With heraldry more dismal ; head to foot 
Now is he total gules ; horridly trick'd 
With blood of fathers , mothers , daughters , sons ,
Bak'd and impasted with the parching streets ,
That lend a tyrannous and damned light 
To their vile murders : rousted in wrath and fire ,
And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore ,
With eyes like carbuncles , the hellish Pyrrhus 
Old grandsire Priam seeks .
So proceed you .

'Fore God , my lord , well spoken ; with good accent and good discretion .

Anon , he finds him 
Striking too short at Greeks ; his antique sword ,
Rebellious to his arm , lies where it falls ,
Repugnant to command . Unequal match'd ,
Pyrrhus at Priam drives ; in rage strikes wide ;
But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword 
The unnerved father falls . Then senseless Ilium ,
Seeming to feel this blow , with flaming top 
Stoops to his base , and with a hideous crash 
Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear : for lo ! his sword ,
Which was declining on the milky head 
Of rever end Priam , seem'd i' the air to stick :
So , as a painted tyrant , Pyrrhus stood ,
And like a neutral to his will and matter ,
Did nothing .
But , as we often see , against some storm ,
A silence in the heavens , the rack stand still ,
The bold winds speechless and the orb below 
As hush as death , anon the dreadful thunder 
Doth rend the region ; so , after Pyrrhus' pause ,
Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work ;
And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall 
On Mars's armour , forg'd for proof eterne ,
With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword 
Now falls on Priam .
Out , out , thou strumpet , Fortune ! All you gods ,
In general synod , take away her power ;
Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel ,
And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven ,
As low as to the fiends !

This is too long .

It shall to the barber's , with your beard . Prithee , say on : he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry , or he sleeps . Say on ; come to Hecuba .

But who , O ! who had seen the mobled queen 

'The mobled queen ?' 

That's good ; 'mobled queen' is good .

Run barefoot up and down , threat'ning the flames 
With bisson rheum ; a clout upon that head 
Where late the diadem stood ; and , for a robe ,
About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins ,
A blanket , in the alarm of fear caught up ;
Who this had seen , with tongue in venom steep'd ,
'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have pronounc'd :
But if the gods themselves did see her then ,
When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport 
In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs ,
The instant burst of clamour that she made 
Unless things mortal move them not at all 
Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven ,
And passion in the gods .

Look ! wh'er he has not turned his colour and has tears in's eyes . Prithee , no more .

'Tis well ; I'll have thee speak out the rest soon . Good my lord , will you see the players well bestowed ? Do you hear , let them be well used ; for they are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time : after your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live .

My lord , I will use them according to their desert .

God's bodikins , man , much better ; use every man after his desert , and who should 'scape whipping ? Use them after your own honour and dignity : the less they deserve , the more merit is in your bounty . Take them in .

Come , sirs .

Follow him , friends : we'll hear a play to-morrow .

Dost thou hear me , old friend ; can you play the Murder of Gonzago ?

Ay , my lord .

We'll ha't to-morrow night . You could , for a need , study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines , which I would set down and insert in't , could you not ?

Ay , my lord .

Very well . Follow that lord ; and look you mock him not .

My good friends , I'll leave you till night ; you are welcome to Elsinore .

Good my lord !


Ay , so , God be wi' ye ! Now I am alone .
O ! what a rogue and peasant slave am I :
Is it not monstrous that this player here ,
But in a fiction , in a dream of passion ,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit 
That from her working all his visage wann'd ,
Tears in his eyes , distraction in 's aspect ,
A broken voice , and his whole function suiting 
With forms to his conceit ? and all for nothing !
For Hecuba !
What 's Hecuba to him or he to Hecuba 
That he should weep for her ? What would he do 
Had he the motive and the cue for passion 
That I have ? He would drown the stage with tears ,
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech ,
Make mad the guilty and appal the free ,
Confound the ignorant , and amaze indeed 
The very faculties of eyes and ears .
Yet I ,
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal , peak ,
Like John-a-dreams , unpregnant of my cause ,
And can say nothing ; no , not for a king ,
Upon whose property and most dear life 
A damn'd defeat was made . Am I a coward ?
Who calls me villain ? breaks my pate across ?
Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face ?
Tweaks me by the nose ? gives me the lie i' the throat ,
As deep as to the lungs ? Who does me this ?
Ha !
Swounds , I should take it , for it cannot be 
But I am pigeon-liver'd , and lack gall 
To make oppression bitter , or ere this 
I should have fatted all the region kites 
With this slave's offal . Bloody , bawdy villain !
Remorseless , treacherous , lecherous , kindless villain !
O ! vengeance !
Why , what an ass am I ! This is most brave 
That I , the son of a dear father murder'd ,
Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell ,
Must , like a whore , unpack my heart with words ,
And fall a-cursing , like a very drab ,
A scullion !
Fie upon't ! foh ! About , my brain ! I have heard ,
That guilty creatures sitting at a play 
Have by the very cunning of the scene 
Been struck so to the soul that presently 
They have proclaim'd their malefactions ;
For murder , though it have no tongue , will speak 
With most miraculous organ . I'll have these players 
Play something like the murder of my father 
Before mine uncle ; I'll observe his looks ;
I'll tent him to the quick : if he but blench 
I know my course . The spirit that I have seen 
May be the devil : and the devil hath power 
To assume a pleasing shape ; yea , and perhaps 
Out of my weakness and my melancholy 
As he is very potent with such spirits 
Abuses me to damn me . I'll have grounds 
More relative than this : the play 's the thing 
Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king .

And can you , by no drift of circumstance ,
Get from him why he puts on this confusion ,
Grating so harshly all his days of quiet 
With turbulent and dangerous lunacy ?

He does confess he feels himself distracted ;
But from what cause he will by no means speak .

Nor do we find him forward to be sounded ,
But , with a crafty madness , keeps aloof ,
When we would bring him on to some confession 
Of his true state .

Did he receive you well ?

Most like a gentleman .

But with much forcing of his disposition .

Niggard of question , but of our demands 
Most free in his reply .

Did you assay him 
To any pastime ?

Madam , it so fell out that certain players 
We o'er-raught on the way ; of these we told him ,
And there did seem in him a kind of joy 
To hear of it : they are about the court ,
And , as I think , they have already order 
This night to play before him .

'Tis most true ;
And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties 
To hear and see the matter .

With all my heart ; and it doth much content me 
To hear him so inclin'd .
Good gentlemen , give him a further edge ,
And drive his purpose on to these delights .

We shall , my lord .


Sweet Gertrude , leave us too ;
For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither ,
That he , as 'twere by accident , may here 
Affront Ophelia .
Her father and myself , lawful espials ,
Will so bestow ourselves , that , seeing , unseen ,
We may of their encounter frankly judge ,
And gather by him , as he is behav'd ,
If 't be the affliction of his love or no 
That thus he suffers for .

I shall obey you .
And for your part , Ophelia , I do wish 
That your good beauties be the happy cause 
Of Hamlet's wildness ; so shall I hope your virtues 
Will bring him to his wonted way again ,
To both your honours .

Madam , I wish it may .


Ophelia , walk you here . Gracious , so please you ,
We will bestow ourselves .

Read on this book ;
That show of such an exercise may colour 
Your loneliness . We are oft to blame in this ,
'Tis too much prov'd , that with devotion's visage 
And pious action we do sugar o'er 
The devil himself .

O ! 'tis too true ;
How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience !
The harlot's cheek , beautied with plastering art ,
Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it 
Than is my deed to my most painted word :
O heavy burden !

I hear him coming ; let's withdraw , my lord .

To be , or not to be : that is the question :
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune ,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles ,
And by opposing end them ? To die : to sleep ;
No more ; and , by a sleep to say we end 
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks 
That flesh is heir to , 'tis a consummation 
Devoutly to be wish'd . To die , to sleep ;
To sleep : perchance to dream : ay , there's the rub ;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come 
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil ,
Must give us pause . There's the respect 
That makes calamity of so long life ;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time ,
The oppressor's wrong , the proud man's contumely ,
The pangs of dispriz'd love , the law's delay ,
The insolence of office , and the spurns 
That patient merit of the unworthy takes ,
When he himself might his quietus make 
With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear ,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life ,
But that the dread of something after death ,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn 
No traveller returns , puzzles the will ,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have 
Than fly to others that we know not of ?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ;
And thus the native hue of resolution 
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought ,
And enterprises of great pith and moment 
With this regard their currents turn awry ,
And lose the name of action . Soft you now !
The fair Ophelia ! Nymph , in thy orisons 
Be all my sins remember'd .

Good my lord ,
How does your honour for this many a day ?

I humbly thank you ; well , well , well .

My lord , I have remembrances of yours ,
That I have longed long to re-deliver ;
I pray you , now receive them .

No , not I ;
I never gave you aught .

My honour'd lord , you know right well you did ;
And , with them , words of so sweet breath compos'd 
As made the things more rich : their perfume lost ,
Take these again ; for to the noble mind 
Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind .
There , my lord .

Ha , ha ! are you honest ?

My lord !

Are you fair ?

What means your lordship ?

That if you be honest and fair , your honesty should admit no discourse to your beauty .

Could beauty , my lord , have better commerce than with honesty ?

Ay , truly ; for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty can translate beauty into his likeness : this was sometime a paradox , but now the time gives it proof . I did love thee once .

Indeed , my lord , you made me believe so .

You should not have believed me ; for virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it : I loved you not .

I was the more deceived .

Get thee to a nunnery : why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners ? I am myself indifferent honest ; but yet I could accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had not borne me . I am very proud , revengeful , ambitious ; with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in , imagination to give them shape , or time to act them in . What should such fellows as I do crawling between heaven and earth ? We are arrant knaves , all ; believe none of us . Go thy ways to a nunnery . Where's your father ?

At home , my lord .

Let the doors be shut upon him , that he may play the fool nowhere but in's own house . Farewell .

O ! help him , you sweet heavens !

If thou dost marry , I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry : be thou as chaste as ice , as pure as snow , thou shalt not escape calumny . Get thee to a nunnery , go ; farewell . Or , if thou wilt needs marry , marry a fool ; for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them . To a nunnery , go ; and quickly too . Farewell .

O heavenly powers , restore him !

I have heard of your paintings too , well enough ; God hath given you one face , and you make yourselves another : you jig , you amble , and you lisp , and nickname God's creatures , and make your wantonness your ignorance . Go to , I'll no more on't ; it hath made me mad . I say , we will have no more marriages ; those that are married already , all but one , shall live ; the rest shall keep as they are . To a nunnery , go .


O ! what a noble mind is here o'erthrown :
The courtier's , soldier's , scholar's , eye , tongue , sword ;
The expectancy and rose of the fair state ,
The glass of fashion and the mould of form ,
The observ'd of all observers , quite , quite down !
And I , of ladies most deject and wretched ,
That suck'd the honey of his music vows ,
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason ,
Like sweet bells jangled , out of tune and harsh ;
That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth 
Blasted with ecstasy : O ! woe is me ,
To have seen what I have seen , see what I see !


Love ! his affections do not that way tend ;
Nor what he spake , though it lack'd form a little ,
Was not like madness . There's something in his soul 
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood ;
And , I do doubt , the hatch and the disclose 
Will be some danger ; which for to prevent ,
I have in quick determination 
Thus set it down : he shall with speed to England ,
For the demand of our neglected tribute :
Haply the seas and countries different 
With variable objects shall expel 
This something-settled matter in his heart ,
Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus 
From fashion of himself . What think you on't ?

It shall do well : but yet do I believe 
The origin and commencement of his grief 
Sprung from neglected love . How now , Ophelia !
You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said ;
We heard it all . My lord , do as you please ;
But , if you hold it fit , after the play ,
Let his queen mother all alone entreat him 
To show his griefs : let her be round with him ;
And I'll be plac'd , so please you , in the ear 
Of all their conference . If she find him not ,
To England send him , or confine him where 
Your wisdom best shall think .

It shall be so :
Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go .


Speak the speech , I pray you , as I pronounced it to you , trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it , as many of your players do , I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines . Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand , thus ; but use all gently : for in the very torrent , tempest , and as I may say whirlwind of passion , you must acquire and beget a temperance , that may give it smoothness . O ! it offends me to the soul to hear a robustious periwigpated fellow tear a passion to tatters , to very rage , to split the ears of the groundlings , who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise : I would have such a fellow whipped for o'er-doing Termagant ; it out-herods Herod : pray you , avoid it .

I warrant your honour .

Be not too tame neither , but let your own discretion be your tutor : suit the action to the word , the word to the action ; with this special observance , that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature ; for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing , whose end , both at the first and now , was and is , to hold , as 'twere , the mirror up to nature ; to show virtue her own feature , scorn her own image , and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure . Now , this overdone , or come tardy off , though it make the unskilful laugh , cannot but make the judicious grieve ; the censure of which one must in your allowance o'erweigh a whole theatre of others . O ! there be players that I have seen play , and heard others praise , and that highly , not to speak it profanely , that , neither having the accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian , pagan , nor man , have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men and not made them well , they imitated humanity so abominably .

I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us .

O ! reform it altogether . And let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them ; for there be of them that will themselves laugh , to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too , though in the mean time some necessary question of the play be then to be considered ; that's villanous , and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it . Go , make you ready .


How now , my lord ! will the king hear this piece of work ?

And the queen too , and that presently .

Bid the players make haste .

Will you two help to hasten them ?

We will , my lord .

We will , my lord .


What , ho ! Horatio !


Here , sweet lord , at your service .

Horatio , thou art e'en as just a man 
As e'er my conversation cop'd withal .

O ! my dear lord ,

Nay , do not think I flatter ;
For what advancement may I hope from thee ,
That no revenue hast but thy good spirits 
To feed and clothe thee ? Why should the poor be flatter'd ?
No ; let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp ,
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee 
Where thrift may follow fawning . Dost thou hear ?
Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice 
And could of men distinguish , her election 
Hath seal'd thee for herself ; for thou hast been 
As one , in suffering all , that suffers nothing ,
A man that fortune's buffets and rewards 
Hast ta'en with equal thanks ; and bless'd are those 
Whose blood and judgment are so well comingled 
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger 
To sound what stop she please . Give me that man 
That is not passion's slave , and I will wear him 
In my heart's core , ay , in my heart of heart ,
As I do thee . Something too much of this .
There is a play to-night before the king ;
One scene of it comes near the circumstance 
Which I have told thee of my father's death :
I prithee , when thou seest that act afoot ,
Even with the very comment of thy soul 
Observe mine uncle ; if his occulted guilt 
Do not itself unkennel in one speech ,
It is a damned ghost that we have seen ,
And my imaginations are as foul 
As Vulcan's stithy . Give him heedful note ;
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face ,
And after we will both our judgments join 
In censure of his seeming .

Well , my lord :
If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing ,
And 'scape detecting , I will pay the theft .

They are coming to the play ; I must be idle :
Get you a place .

How fares our cousin Hamlet ?

Excellent , i' faith ; of the chameleon's dish : I eat the air , promise-crammed ; you cannot feed capons so .

I have nothing with this answer , Hamlet ; these words are not mine .

No , nor mine now .

My lord , you played once i' the university , you say ?

That did I , my lord , and was accounted a good actor .

And what did you enact ?

I did enact Julius C sar : I was killed i' the Capitol ; Brutus killed me .

It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there . Be the playcrs ready ?

Ay , my lord ; they stay upon your patience .

Come hither , my good Hamlet , sit by me .

No , good mother , here's metal more attractive .

O ho ! do you mark that ?

Lady , shall I lie in your lap ?


No , my lord .

I mean , my head upon your lap ?

Ay , my lord .

Do you think I meant country matters ?

I think nothing , my lord .

That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs .

What is , my lord ?

Nothing .

You are merry , my lord .

Who , I ?

Ay , my lord .

O God , your only jig-maker . What should a man do but be merry ? for , look you , how cheerfully my mother looks , and my father died within's two hours .

Nay , 'tis twice two months , my lord .

So long ? Nay , then , let the devil wear black , for I'll have a suit of sables . O heavens ! die two months ago , and not forgotten yet ? Then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half a year ; but , by'r lady , he must build churches then , or else shall he suffer not thinking on , with the hobby-horse , whose epitaph is , 'For , O ! for , O ! the hobby-horse is forgot .' 


What means this , my lord ?

Marry , this is miching mallecho ; it means mischief .

Belike this show imports the argument of the play .


We shall know by this fellow : the players cannot keep counsel ; they'll tell all .

Will he tell us what this show meant ?

Ay , or any show that you'll show him ; be not you ashamed to show , he'll not shame to tell you what it means .

You are naught , you are naught . I'll mark the play .


For us and for our tragedy ,
Here stooping to your clemency ,
We beg your hearing patiently .


Is this a prologue , or the posy of a ring ?

'Tis brief , my lord .

As woman's love .


Full thirty times hath Ph bus' cart gone round 
Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground ,
And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheen 
About the world have times twelve thirties been ,
Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands 
Unite commutual in most sacred bands .

So many journeys may the sun and moon 
Make us again count o'er ere love be done !
But , woe is me ! you are so sick of late ,
So far from cheer and from your former state ,
That I distrust you . Yet , though I distrust ,
Discomfort you , my lord , it nothing must ;
For women's fear and love holds quantity ,
In neither aught , or in extremity .
Now , what my love is , proof hath made you know ;
And as my love is siz'd , my fear is so .
Where love is great , the littlest doubts are fear ;
Where little fears grow great , great love grows there .

Faith , I must leave thee , love , and shortly too ;
My operant powers their functions leave to do :
And thou shall live in this fair world behind ,
Honour'd , belov'd ; and haply one as kind 
For husband shalt thou 

O ! confound the rest ;
Such love must needs be treason in my breast :
In second husband let me be accurst :
None wed the second but who kill'd the first .

Wormwood , wormwood .

The instances that second marriage move ,
Are base respects of thrift , but none of love ;
A second time I kill my husband dead ,
When second husband kisses me in bed .

I do believe you think what now you speak ;
But what we do determine oft we break .
Purpose is but the slave to memory ,
Of violent birth , but poor validity ;
Which now , like fruit unripe , sticks on the tree ,
But fall unshaken when they mellow be .
Most necessary 'tis that we forget 
To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt ;
What to ourselves in passion we propose ,
The passion ending , doth the purpose lose .
The violence of either grief or joy 
Their own enactures with themselves destroy ;
Where joy most revels grief doth most lament ,
Grief joys , joy grieves , on slender accident .
This world is not for aye , nor 'tis not strange ,
That even our love should with our fortunes change ;
For 'tis a question left us yet to prove 
Whe'r love lead fortune or else fortune love .
The great man down , you mark his favourite flies ;
The poor advanc'd makes friends of enemies .
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend ,
For who not needs shall never lack a friend ;
And who in want a hollow friend doth try 
Directly seasons him his enemy .
But , orderly to end where I begun ,
Our wills and fates do so contrary run 
That our devices still are overthrown ,
Our thoughts are ours , their ends none of our own :
So think thou wilt no second husband wed ;
But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead 

Nor earth to me give food , nor heaven light !
Sport and repose lock from me day and night !
To desperation turn my trust and hope !
An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope !
Each opposite that blanks the face of joy 
Meet what I would have well , and it destroy !
Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife ,
If , once a widow , ever I be wife !

If she should break it now !

'Tis deeply sworn . Sweet , leave me here awhile ;
My spirits grow dull , and fain I would beguile 
The tedious day with sleep .


Sleep rock thy brain ;
And never come mischance between us twain !


Madam , how like you this play ?

The lady doth protest too much , methinks .

O ! but she'll keep her word .

Have you heard the argument ? Is there no offence in 't ?

No , no , they do but jest , poison in jest ; no offence i' the world .

What do you call the play ?

The Mouse-trap . Marry , how ? Tropically . This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna : Gonzago is the duke's name ; his wife , Baptista . You shall see anon ; 'tis a knavish piece of work : but what of that ? your majesty and we that have free souls , it touches us not : let the galled jade wince , our withers are unwrung .

This is one Lucianus , nephew to the king .

You are a good chorus , my lord .

I could interpret between you and your love , if I could see the puppets dallying .

You are keen , my lord , you are keen .

It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge .

Still better , and worse .

So you must take your husbands . Begin , murderer ; pox , leave thy damnable faces , and begin . Come ; the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge .

Thoughts black , hands apt , drugs fit , and time agreeing ;
Confederate season , else no creature seeing ;
Thou mixture rank , of midnight weeds collected ,
With Hecate's ban thrice blasted , thrice infected ,
Thy natural magic and dire property ,
On wholesome life usurp immediately .


He poisons him i' the garden for's estate . Hisname's Gonzago ; the story is extant , and writ in very choice Italian . You shall see anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife .

The king rises .

What ! frighted with false fire ?

How fares my lord ?

Give o'er the play .

Give me some light : away !

Lights , lights , lights !

Why , let the stricken deer go weep ,
The hart ungalled play ;
For some must watch , while some must sleep :
So runs the world away .

Would not this , sir , and a forest of feathers , if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me , with two Provincial roses on my razed shoes , get me a fellowship in a cry of players , sir ?

Half a share .

A whole one , I .

For thou dost know , O Damon dear ,
This realm dismantled was 
Of Jove himself ; and now reigns here 
A very , very pajock .


You might have rimed .

O good Horatio ! I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pound . Didst perceive ?

Very well , my lord .

Upon the talk of the poisoning ?

I did very well note him .

Ah , ha ! Come , some music ! come , the recorders !

For if the king like not the comedy ,
Why then , belike he likes it not , perdy .

Come , some music !


Good my lord , vouchsafe me a word with you .

Sir , a whole history .

The king , sir ,

Ay , sir , what of him ?

Is in his retirement marvellous distempered .

With drink , sir ?

No , my lord , rather with choler .

Your wisdom should show itself more richer to signify this to his doctor ; for , for me to put him to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far more choler .

Good my lord , put your discourse into some frame , and start not so wildly from my affair .

I am tame , sir ; pronounce .

The queen , your mother , in most great affliction of spirit , hath sent me to you .

You are welcome .

Nay , good my lord , this courtesy is not of the right breed . If it shall please you to make me a wholesome answer , I will do your mother's commandment ; if not , your pardon and my return shall be the end of my business .

Sir , I cannot .

What , my lord ?

Make you a wholesome answer ; my wit's diseased ; but , sir , such answer as I can make , you shall command ; or , rather , as you say , my mother : therefore no more , but to the matter : my mother , you say ,

Then , thus she says : your behaviour hath struck her into amasement and admiration .

O wonderful son , that can so astonish a mother ! But is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration ? Impart .

She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed .

We shall obey , were she ten times our mother . Have you any further trade with us ?

My lord , you once did love me .

So I do still , by these pickers and stealers .

Good my lord , what is your cause of distemper ? you do surely bar the door upon your own liberty , if you deny your griefs to your friend .

Sir , I lack advancement .

How can that be when you have the voice of the king himself for your succession in Denmark ?

Ay , sir , but 'While the grass grows ,' the proverb is something musty .

O ! the recorders : let me see one . To withdraw with you : why do you go about to recover the wind of me , as if you would drive me into a toil ?

O ! my lord , if my duty be too bold , my love is too unmannerly .

I do not well understand that . Will you play upon this pipe ?

My lord , I cannot .

I pray you .

Believe me , I cannot .

I do beseech you .

I know no touch of it , my lord .

'Tis as easy as lying ; govern these ventages with your finger and thumb , give it breath with your mouth , and it will discourse most eloquent music . Look you , these are the stops .

But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony ; I have not the skill .

Why , look you now , how unworthy a thing you make of me . You would play upon me ; you would seem to know my stops ; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery ; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass ; and there is much music , excellent voice , in this little organ , yet cannot you make it speak . 'Sblood , do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe ? Call me what instrument you will , though you can fret me , you cannot play upon me .

God bless you , sir !

My lord , the queen would speak with you , and presently .

Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel ?

By the mass , and 'tis like a camel , indeed .

Methinks it is like a weasel .

It is backed like a weasel .

Or like a whale ?

Very like a whale .

Then I will come to my mother by and by 

They fool me to the top of my bent . [Aloud .] I will come by and by .

I will say so .


By and by is easily said . Leave me , friends .

'Tis now the very witching time of night ,
When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out 
Contagion to this world : now could I drink hot blood ,
And do such bitter business as the day 
Would quake to look on . Soft ! now to my mother .
O heart ! lose not thy nature ; let not ever 
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom ;
Let me be cruel , not unnatural ;
I will speak daggers to her , but use none ;
My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites ;
How in my words soever she be shent ,
To give them seals never , my soul , consent !


I like him not , nor stands it safe with us 
To let his madness range . Therefore prepare you ;
I your commission will forth with dispatch ,
And he to England shall along with you .
The terms of our estate may not endure 
Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow 
Out of his lunacies .

We will ourselves provide .
Most holy and religious fear it is 
To keep those many many bodies safe 
That live and feed upon your majesty .

The single and peculiar life is bound 
With all the strength and armour of the mind 
To keep itself from noyance ; but much more 
That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest 
The lives of many . The cease of majesty 
Dies not alone , but , like a gulf doth draw 
What's near it with it ; it is a massy wheel ,
Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount ,
To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things 
Are mortis'd and adjoin'd ; which , when it falls ,
Each small annexment , petty consequence ,
Attends the boisterous ruin . Never alone 
Did the king sigh , but with a general groan .

Arm you , I pray you , to this speedy voyage ;
For we will fetters put upon this fear ,
Which now goes too free-footed .

We will haste us .

We will haste us .

My lord , he's going to his mother's closet :
Behind the arras I'll convey myself 
To hear the process ; I'll warrant she'll tax him home ;
And , as you said , and wisely was it said ,
'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother ,
Since nature makes them partial , should o'erhear 
The speech , of vantage . Fare you well , my liege :
I'll call upon you ere you go to bed 
And tell you what I know .

Thanks , dear my lord .

O ! my offence is rank , it smells to heaven ;
It hath the primal eldest curse upon't ;
A brother's murder ! Pray can I not ,
Though inclination be as sharp as will :
My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent ;
And , like a man to double business bound ,
I stand in pause where I shall first begin ,
And both neglect . What if this cursed hand 
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood ,
Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens 
To wash it white as snow ? Whereto serves mercy 
But to confront the visage of offence ?
And what's in prayer but this two-fold force ,
To be forestalled , ere we come to fall ,
Or pardon'd , being down ? Then , I'll look up ;
My fault is past . But , O ! what form of prayer 
Can serve my turn ? 'Forgive me my foul murder ?' 
That cannot be ; since I am still possess'd 
Of those effects for which I did the murder ,
My crown , mine own ambition , and my queen .
May one be pardon'd and retain the offence ?
In the corrupted currents of this world 
Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice ,
And oft 'tis seen the wicked prise itself 
Buys out the law ; but 'tis not so above ;
There is no shuffling , there the action lies 
In his true nature , and we ourselves compell'd 
Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults 
To give in evidence . What then ? what rests ?
Try what repentance can : what can it not ?
Yet what can it , when one can not repent ?
O wretched state ! O bosom black as death !
O limed soul , that struggling to be free 
Art more engaged ! Help , angels ! make assay ;
Bow , stubborn knees ; and heart with strings of steel 
Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe .
All may be well .

Now might I do it pat , now he is praying ;
And now I'll do't : and so he goes to heaven ;
And so am I reveng'd . That would be scann'd :
A villain kills my father ; and for that ,
I , his sole son , do this same villain send 
To heaven .
Why , this is hire and salary , not revenge .
He took my father grossly , full of bread ,
With all his crimes broad blown , as flush as May ;
And how his audit stands who knows save heaven ?
But in our circumstance and course of thought 
'Tis heavy with him . And am I then reveng'd ,
To take him in the purging of his soul ,
When he is fit and season'd for his passage ?
No .
Up , sword , and know thou a more horrid hent ;
When he is drunk asleep , or in his rage ,
Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed ,
At gaming , swearing , or about some act 
That has no relish of salvation in't ;
Then trip him , that his heels may kick at heaven ,
And that his soul may be as damn'd and black 
As hell , whereto it goes . My mother stays :
This physic but prolongs thy sickly days .

My words fly up , my thoughts remain below :
Words without thoughts never to heaven go .


He will come straight . Look you lay home to him ;
Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with ,
And that your Grace hath screen'd and stood between 
Much heat and him . I'll silence me e'en here .
Pray you , be round with him .

Mother , mother , mother !

I'll warrant you ;
Fear me not . Withdraw , I hear him coming .


Now , mother , what's the matter ?

Hamlet , thou hast thy father much offended .

Mother , you have my father much offended .

Come , come , you answer with an idle tongue .

Go , go , you question with a wicked tongue .

Why , how now , Hamlet !

What's the matter now ?

Have you forgot me ?

No , by the rood , not so :
You are the queen , your husband's brother's wife ;
And ,would it were not so !you are my mother .

Nay then , I'll set those to you that can speak .

Come , come , and sit you down ; you shall not budge ;
You go not , till I set you up a glass 
Where you may see the inmost part of you .

What wilt thou do ? thou wilt not murder me ?
Help , help , ho !

What , ho ! help ! help ! help !

How now ! a rat ? Dead , for a ducat , dead !


O ! I am slain .

O me ! what hast thou done ?

Nay , I know not : is it the king ?

O ! what a rash and bloody deed is this !

A bloody deed ! almost as bad , good mother ,
As kill a king , and marry with his brother .

As kill a king !

Ay , lady , 'twas my word .

Thou wretched , rash , intruding fool , farewell !
I took thee for thy better ; take thy fortune ;
Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger .
Leave wringing of your hands : peace ! sit you down ,
And let me wring your heart ; for so I shall 
If it be made of penetrable stuff ,
If damned custom have not brass'd it so 
That it is proof and bulwark against sense 

What have I done that thou dar'st wag thy tongue 
In noise so rude against me ?

Such an act 
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty ,
Calls virtue hypocrite , takes off the rose 
From the fair forehead of an innocent love 
And sets a blister there , makes marriage vows 
As false as dicers' oaths ; O ! such a deed 
As from the body of contraction plucks 
The very soul , and sweet religion makes 
A rhapsody of words ; heaven's face doth glow ,
Yea , this solidity and compound mass ,
With tristful visage , as against the doom ,
Is thought-sick at the act .

Ay me ! what act ,
That roars so loud and thunders in the index ?

Look here , upon this picture , and on this ;
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers .
See , what a grace was seated on this brow ;
Hyperion's curls , the front of Jove himself ,
An eye like Mars , to threaten and command ,
A station like the herald Mercury 
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill ,
A combination and a form indeed ,
Where every god did seem to set his seal ,
To give the world assurance of a man .
This was your husband : look you now , what follows .
Here is your husband ; like a mildew'd ear ,
Blasting his wholesome brother . Have you eyes ?
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed ,
And batten on this moor ? Ha ! have you eyes ?
You cannot call it love , for at your age 
The hey-day in the blood is tame , it's humble ,
And waits upon the judgment ; and what judgment 
Would step from this to this ? Sense , sure , you have ,
Else could you not have motion ; but sure , that sense 
Is apoplex'd ; for madness would not err ,
Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd 
But it reserv'd some quantity of choice ,
To serve in such a difference . What devil was 't 
That thus hath comen'd you at hoodman-blind ?
Eyes without feeling , feeling without sight ,
Ears without hands or eyes , smelling sans all ,
Or but a sickly part of one true sense 
Could not so mope .
O shame ! where is thy blush ? Rebellious hell ,
If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones ,
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax ,
And melt in her own fire : proclaim no shame 
When the compulsive ardour gives the charge ,
Since first itself as actively doth burn ,
And reason panders will .

O Hamlet ! speak no more ;
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul ;
And there I see such black and grained spots 
As will not leave their tinct .

Nay , but to live 
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed ,
Stew'd in corruption , honeying and making love 
Over the nasty sty ,

O ! speak to me no more ;
These words like daggers enter in mine ears ;
No more , sweet Hamlet !

A murderer , and a villain ;
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe 
Of your precedent lord ; a vice of kings ;
A cut-purse of the empire and the rule ,
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole ,
And put it in his pocket !

No more !

A king of shreds and patches ,


Save me , and hover o'er me with your wings ,

You heavenly guards ! What would your gracious figure ?

Alas ! he's mad !

Do you not come your tardy son to chide ,
That , laps'd in time and passion , lets go by 
The important acting of your dread command ?
O ! say .

Do not forget : this visitation 
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose .
But , look ! amazement on thy mother sits ;
O ! step between her and her fighting soul ;
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works :
Speak to her , Hamlet .

How is it with you , lady ?

Alas ! how is't with you ,
That you do bend your eye on vacancy 
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse ?
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep ;
And , as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm ,
Your bedded hair , like life in excrements ,
Starts up and stands an end . O gentle son !
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper 
Sprinkle cool patience . Whereon do you look ?

On him , on him ! Look you , how pale he glares !
His form and cause conjoin'd , preaching to stones ,
Would make them capable . Do not look upon me ;
Lest with this piteous action you convert 
My stern effects : then what I have to do 
Will want true colour ; tears perchance for blood .

To whom do you speak this ?

Do you see nothing there ?

Nothing at all ; yet all that is I see .

Nor did you nothing hear ?

No , nothing but ourselves .

Why , look you there ! look , how it steals away ;
My father , in his habit as he liv'd ;
Look ! where he goes , even now , out at the portal .


This is the very coinage of your brain :
This bodiless creation ecstasy 
Is very cunning in .

Ecstasy !
My pulse , as yours , doth temperately keep time ,
And makes as healthful music . It is not madness 
That I have utter'd : bring me to the test ,
And I the matter will re-word , which madness 
Would gambol from . Mother , for love of grace ,
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul ,
That not your trespass but my madness speaks ;
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place ,
Whiles rank corruption , mining all within ,
Infects unseen . Confess yourself to heaven ;
Repent what's past ; avoid what is to come ;
And do not spread the compost on the weeds 
To make them ranker . Forgive me this my virtue ;
For in the fatness of these pursy times 
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg ,
Yea , curb and woo for leave to do him good .

O Hamlet ! thou hast cleft my heart in twain .

O ! throw away the worser part of it ,
And live the purer with the other half .
Good night ; but go not to mine uncle's bed ;
Assume a virtue , if you have it not .
That monster , custom , who all sense doth eat ,
Of habits devil , is angel yet in this ,
That to the use of actions fair and good 
He likewise gives a frock or livery ,
That aptly is put on . Refrain to-night ;
And that shall lend a kind of easiness 
To the next abstinence : the next more easy ;
For use almost can change the stamp of nature ,
And master ev'n the devil or throw him out 
With wondrous potency . Once more , goodnight :
And when you are desirous to be bless'd ,
I'll blessing beg of you . For this same lord ,

I do repent : but heaven hath pleas'd it so ,
To punish me with this , and this with me ,
That I must be their scourge and minister .
I will bestow him , and will answer well 
The death I gave him . So , again , good-night .
I must be cruel only to be kind :
Thus bad begins and worse remains behind .
One word more , good lady .

What shall I do ?

Not this , by no means , that I bid you do :
Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed ;
Pinch wanton on your cheek ; call you his mouse ;
And let him , for a pair of reechy kisses ,
Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers ,
Make you to ravel all this matter out ,
That I essentially am not in madness ,
But mad in craft . 'Twere good you let him know ;
For who that's but a queen , fair , sober , wise ,
Would from a paddock , from a bat , a gib ,
Such dear concernings hide ? who would do so ?
No , in despite of sense and secrecy ,
Unpeg the basket on the house's top ,
Let the birds fly , and , like the famous ape ,
To try conclusions , in the basket creep ,
And break your own neck down .

Be thou assur'd , if words be made of breath ,
And breath of life , I have no life to breathe 
What thou hast said to me .

I must to England ; you know that ?

Alack !
I had forgot : 'tis so concluded on .

There's letters seal'd ; and my two schoolfellows ,
Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd ,
They bear the mandate ; they must sweep my way ,
And marshal me to knavery . Let it work ;
For 'tis the sport to have the enginer 
Hoist with his own petar : and it shall go hard 
But I will delve one yard below their mines ,
And blow them at the moon . O ! 'tis most sweet ,
When in one line two crafts directly meet .
This man shall set me packing ;
I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room .
Mother , good-night . Indeed this counsellor 
Is now most still , most secret , and most grave ,
Who was in life a foolish prating knave .
Come , sir , to draw toward an end with you .
Good-night , mother .

There's matter in these sighs , these profound heaves :
You must translate ; 'tis fit we understand them .
Where is your son ?

Bestow this place on us a little while .

Ah ! my good lord , what have I seen to-night .

What , Gertrude ? How does Hamlet ?

Mad as the sea and wind , when both contend 
Which is the mightier . In his lawless fit ,
Behind the arras hearing something stir ,
Whips out his rapier , cries , 'A rat ! a rat !' 
And , in his brainish apprehension , kills 
The unseen good old man .

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 providence 
Should have kept short , restrain'd , and out of haunt ,
This mad young man : but so much was our love ,
We would not understand what was most fit ,
But , like the owner of a foul disease ,
To keep it from divulging , let it feed 
Even on the pith of life . Where is he gone ?

To draw apart the body he hath kill'd ;
O'er whom his very madness , like some ore 
Among a mineral of metals base ,
Shows itself pure : he weeps for what is done .

O Gertrude ! come away .
The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch 
But we will ship him hence ; and this vile deed 
We must , with all our majesty and skill ,
Both countenance and excuse . Ho ! 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 body 
Into the chapel . I pray you , haste in this .

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 .

Safely stowed .

Hamlet ! Lord Hamlet !

Hamlet ! Lord Hamlet !

What noise ? who calls on Hamlet ?
O ! here they come .


What have you done , my lord , with the dead body ?

Compounded it with dust , whereto 'tis kin .

Tell us where 'tis , that we may take it thence 
And bear it to the chapel .

Do not believe it .

Believe what ?

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 ?

Take you me for a sponge , my lord ?

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 .

I understand you not , my lord .

I am glad of it : a knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear .

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

The body is with the king , but the king is not with the body . The king is a thing 

A thing , my lord !

Of nothing : bring me to him . Hide fox , and all after .


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 seem 
Deliberate pause : diseases desperate grown 
By desperate appliance are reliev'd ,
Or not at all .

How now ! what hath befall'n ?

Where the dead body is bestow'd , my lord ,
We cannot get from him .

But where is he ?

Without , my lord ; guarded , to know your pleasure .

Bring him before us .

Ho , Guildenstern ! bring in my lord .


Now , Hamlet , where's Polonius ?

At supper .

At supper ! Where ?

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 .

Alas , alas !

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

What dost thou mean by this ?

Nothing , but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar .

Where is Polonius ?

In heaven ; send thither to see : if your messenger find him not there , seek 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 .

Go seek him there .

He will stay till you come .


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 ,
The associates tend , and every thing is bent 
For England .

For England !

Ay , Hamlet .

Good .

So is it , if thou knew'st our purposes .

I see a cherub that sees them . But , come ; for England ! Farewell , dear mother .

Thy loving father , Hamlet .

My mother : father and mother is man and wife , man and wife is one flesh , and so , my mother . Come , for England !


Follow him at foot ; tempt him with speed aboard :
Delay it not , I'll have him hence to-night .
Away ! for every thing is seal'd and done 
That else leans on the affair : pray you , make haste .

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 mayst 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 were ne'er begun .


Go , captain , from me greet the Danish king ;
Tell him that , by his licence , Fortinbras 
Claims the conveyance of a promis'd march 
Over 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 .

I will do 't , my lord .

Go softly on .

Good sir , whose powers are these ?

They are of Norway , sir .

How purpos'd , sir , I pray you ?

Against some part of Poland .

Who commands them , sir ?

The nephew to old Norway , Fortinbras .

Goes it against the main of Poland , sir ,
Or for some frontier ?

Truly to speak , 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 .

Why , then the Polack never will defend it .

Yes , 'tis already garrison'd .

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 .

God be wi' you , sir .


Will 't please you go , my lord ?

I'll be with you straight . Go a little before .

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 god-like reason 
To fust in us unus'd . Now , whe'r 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 ,
And ever three parts coward , I do not know 
Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do ;' 
Sith I have cause and will and strength and 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 
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause ,
Which is not tomb enough and continent 
To hide the slaim ? O ! from this time forth ,
My thoughts be bloody , or be nothing worth !


I will not speak with her .

She is importunate , indeed distract :
Her mood will needs be pitied .

What would she have ?

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 .

'Twere good she were spoken with , for she may strew 
Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds .

Let her come in .

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 .


Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark ?

How now , Ophelia !


How should I your true love know 
From another one ?
By his cockle hat and staff ,
And his sandal shoon .


Alas ! sweet lady , what imports this song ?

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 heals a stone .

O , ho !

Nay , but Ophelia ,

Pray you , mark .

White his shroud as the mountain snow ,

Alas ! look here , my lord .


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


How do you , pretty lady ?

Well , God 'ild 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 !

Conceit upon her father .

Pray you , let's have no words of this ; but when they ask you what it means , say you this :

To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day ,
All in the morning betime ,
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 .


Pretty Ophelia !

Indeed , la ! without an oath , I'll make an end on 't :

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 .


How long hath she been thus ?

I hope all will be well . We must be patient : 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 coach ! Good-night , ladies ; good-night , sweet ladies ; good-night , good-night .


Follow her close ; give her good watch , I pray you .

O ! this is the poison of deep grief ; it springs 
All 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 ; but 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 , 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 ear 
With pestilent speeches of his father's death ;
Wherein necessity , of matter beggar'd ,
Will nothing stick 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 .


Alack ! what noise is this ?


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

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 ,
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 !' 

How cheerfully on the false trail they cry !
O ! this is counter , you false Danish dogs !

The doors are broke .

Where is the king ? Sirs , stand you all without .

No , let's come in .

I pray you , give me leave .

We will , we will .


I thank you : keep the door . O thou vile king !
Give me my father .

Calmly , good Laertes .

That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard ,
Cries cuckold to my father , brands the harlot 
Even here , between the chaste unsmirched brow 
Of my true mother .

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 .

Where is my father ?

Dead .

But not by him .

Let him demand his fill .

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'd 
Most throughly for my father .

Who shall stay you ?

My will , not all the world :
And , for my means , I'll husband them so well ,
They shall go far with little .

Good Laertes ,
If you desire to know the certainty 
Of your dear father's death , is't writ in your revenge ,
That , swoopstake , you will draw both friend and foe ,
Winner and loser ?

None but his enemies .

Will you know them then ?

To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms ;
And like the kind life-rendering pelican ,
Repast them with my blood .

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 shall as level to your judgment pierce 
As day does to your eye .

Let her come in .

How now ! what noise is that ?


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 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 .


They bore him barefac'd on the bier ;
Hey non nonny , nonny , hey nonny ;
And in his grave rain'd many a tear ;

Fare you well , my dove !

Hadst thou thy wits , and didst persuade revenge ,
It could not move thus .


You must sing , a-down a-down ,
And you call him a-down-a .

O how the wheel becomes it ! It is the false steward that stole his master's daughter .

This nothing's more than matter .

There's rosemary , that's for remembrance ; brance ; pray , love , remember : and there is pansies , that's for thoughts .

A document in madness , thoughts and remembrance fitted .

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 a daisy ; I would give you some violets , but they withered all when my father died . They say he made a good end ,

For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy .


Thought and affliction , passion , hell itself ,
She turns to favour and to prettiness .


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 fiaxen 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 be wi' ye !


Do you see this , O God ?

Laertes , I must common 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 :
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 .

So you shall ;
And where the offence is let the great axe fall .
I pray you go with me .


What are they that would speak with me ?

Sailors , sir : they say , they have letters for you .

Let them come in .

I do not know from what part of the world 
I should be greeted , if not from Lord Hamlet .


God bless you , sir .

Let him bless thee too .

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 let to know it is .

Horatio , when thou shalt have overlooked this , give these fellows some means to the king : they have letters for him . Ere we were two days old at sea , a pirate of very war-like appointment gave us chase . Finding ourselves too slow of sail , we put on a compelled valour ; in the grapple I boarded them : on the instant they got clear of our ship , so I alone became their prisoner . They have dealt with me like thieves of mercy , but they knew what they did ; I am to do a good turn for them . Let the king have the letters I have sent ; and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou wouldst fly death . I have words to speak in thine ear will make thee dumb ; yet are they much too light for the bore of the matter . These good fellows will bring thee where I am . Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England : of them I have much to tell thee . Farewell .
He that thou knowest thine ,
Come , I will give you way for these your letters ;
And do 't the speedier , that you may direct me 
To him from whom you brought them .


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 
Why 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 .

O ! for two special reasons ;
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'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 .

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 .

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 ?

Letters , my lord , from Hamlet :
This to your majesty ; this to the queen .

From Hamlet ! who brought them ?

Sailors , my lord , they say ; I saw them not :
They were given me by Claudio , he receiv'd them 
Of him that brought them .

Laertes , you shall hear them .
Leave us .

High and mighty , you shall know I am set naked on your kingdom . To-morrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes ; when I shall , first asking your pardon thereunto , recount the occasions of my sudden and more strange return 
What should this mean ? Are all the rest come back ?
Or is it some abuse and no such thing ?

Know you the hand ?

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

I'm 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 .' 

If it be so , Laertes ,
As how should it be so ? how otherwise ?
Will you be rul'd by me ?

Ay , my lord ;
So you will not o'er-rule me to a peace .

To thine own peace . If he be now return'd ,
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 .

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

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

What part is that , my lord ?

A very riband 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 :
I've 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 wondrous 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 .

A Norman was 't ?

A Norman .

Upon my life , Lamord .

The very same .

I know him well ; he is the brooch indeed 
And gem of all the nation .

He made confession of you ,
And gave you such a masterly report 
For art and exercise in your defence ,
And for your rapier most especially ,
That he cried out , 'twould be a sight indeed 
If one could match you ; the scrimers of their nation ,
He swore , had neither motion , guard , nor eye ,
If you oppos'd them . Sir , this report of his 
Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy 
That he could nothing do but wish and beg 
Your sudden coming o'er , to play with him .
Now , out of this ,

What out of this , my lord ?

Laertes , was your father dear to you ?
Or are you like the painting of a sorrow ,
A face without a heart ?

Why ask you this ?

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 love 
A 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 many 
As 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 undertake 
To show yourself your father's son in deed 
More than in words ?

To cut his throat i' the church .

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 excellence ,
And set a double varnish on the fame 
The Frenchman gave you , bring you , in fine , together ,
And wager on your heads : he , being remise ,
Most generous and free from all contriving ,
Will not peruse the foils ; so that , with ease 
Or with a little shuffling , you may choose 
A sword unbated , and , in a pass of practice 
Requite him for your father .

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 virtue 
Under the moon , can save the thing from death 
That is but scratch'd withal ; I'll touch my point 
With this contagion , that , if I gall him slightly ,
It may be death .

Let's further think of this ;
Weigh what convenience both of time and means 
May 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 project 
Should have a back or second , that might hold ,
If this should 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 him 
A chalice for the nonce , whereon but sipping ,
If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck ,
Our purpose may hold there . But stay ! what noise ?

How now , sweet queen !

One woe doth tread upon another's heel ,
So fast they follow : your sister's drown'd , Laertes .

Drown'd ! O , where ?

There is a willow grows aslant a brook ,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream ;
There with fantastic garlands did she come ,
Of crow-flowers , 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 pendent boughs her coronet weeds 
Clambering to hang , an envious sliver broke ,
When down her weedy trophies and herself 
Fell in the weeping brook . Her clothes spread wide ,
And , mermaid-like , awhile they bore her up ;
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes ,
As one incapable of her own distress ,
Or like a creature native and indu'd 
Unto that element ; but long it could not be 
Till that her garments , heavy with their drink ,
Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay 
To muddy death .

Alas ! then , she is drown'd ?

Drown'd , drown'd .

Too much of water hast thou , poor Ophelis ,
And therefore I forbid my tears ; but yet 
It 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 .


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 .

Is she to be buried in Christian burial that wilfully seeks her own salvation ?

I tell thee she is ; and therefore make her grave straight : the crowner hath sat on her , and finds it Christian burial .

How can that be , unless she drowned herself in her own defence ?

Why , 'tis found so .

It must be se offendendo ; it cannot be else . For here lies the point : if I drown myself wittingly it argues an act ; and an act hath three branches ; it is , to act , to do , and to perform : argal , she drowned herself wittingly .

Nay , but hear you , goodman delver ,

Give me leave . Here lies the water ; good : here stands the man ; good : if the man go to this water , and drown himself , it is , will he , nill he , he goes ; mark you that ? but if the water come to him , and drown him , he drowns not himself : argal , he that is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life .

But is this law ?

Ay , marry , is 't ; crowner's quest law .

Will you ha' the truth on 't ? If this had not been a gentlewoman she should have been buried out o' Christian burial .

Why , there thou sayest ; and the more pity that great folk should have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves more than their even Christian . Come , my spade . There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners , ditchers , and grave-makers ; they hold up Adam's profession .

Was he a gentleman ?

A' was the first that ever bore arms .

Why , he had none .

What ! art a heathen ? How dost thou understand the Scripture ? The Scripture says , Adam digged ; could be dig without arms ?
I'll put another question to thee ; if thou answerest me not to the purpose , confess thyself 

Go to .

What is he that builds stronger than either the mason , the shipwright , or the carpenter ?

The gallows-maker ; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants .

I like thy wit well , in good faith ; the gallows does well , but how does it well ? it does well to those that do ill ; now thou dost ill to say the gallows is built stronger than the church : argal , the gallows may do well to thee .
To 't again ; come .

Who builds stronger than a mason , a shipwright , or a carpenter ?

Ay , tell me that , and unyoke .

Marry , now I can tell .

To 't .

Mass , I cannot tell .


Cudgel thy brains no more about it , for your dull ass will not mend his pace with beating ; and , when you are asked this question next , say , 'a grave-maker :' the houses that he makes last till doomsday . Go , get thee to Yaughan ; fetch me a stoup of liquor .

First Clown digs , and sings .

In youth , when I did love , did love ,
Methought it was very sweet ,
To contract , O ! the time , for-a my behove ,
O ! methought there was nothing meet .


Has this fellow no feeling of his business , that he sings at grave-making ?

Custom hath made it in him a property of easiness .

'Tis e'en so ; the hand of little employment hath the daintier sense .


But age , with his stealing steps ,
Hath claw'd me in his clutch ,
And hath shipped me intil the land ,
As if I had never been such .

That skull had a tongue in it , and could sing once ; how the knave jowls it to the ground , as if it were Cain's jaw-bone , that did the first murder ! This might be the pate of a politician , which this ass now o'er-offices , one that would circumvent God , might it not ?

It might , my lord .

Or of a courtier , which could say , 'Good morrow , sweet lord ! How dost thou , good lord ?' This might be my Lord Such-a-one , that praised my Lord Such-a-one's horse , when he meant to beg it , might it not ?

Ay , my lord .

Why , e'en so , and now my Lady Worm's ; chapless , and knocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade . Here's fine revolution , an we had the trick to see 't . Did these bones cost no more the breeding but to play at loggats with 'em ? mine ache to think on 't .


A pick-axe , and a spade , a spade ,
For and a shrouding sheet ;
O ! a pit of clay for to be made 
For such a guest is meet .

There's another ; why may not that be the skull of a lawyer ? Where be his quiddities now , his quillets , his cases , his tenures , and his tricks ? why does he suffer this rude knave now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shovel , and will not tell him of his action of battery ? Hum ! This fellow might be in 's time a great buyer of land , with his statutes , his recognizances , his fines , his double vouchers , his recoveries ; is this the fine of his fines , and the recovery of his recoveries , to have his fine pate full of fine dirt ? will his vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases , and double ones too , than the length and breadth of a pair of indentures ? The very conveyance of his lands will hardly lie in this box , and must the inheritor himself have no more , ha ?

Not a jot more , my lord .

Is not parchment made of sheep-skins ?

Ay , my lord , and of calf-skins too .

They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that . I will speak to this fellow . Whose grave's this , sir ?

Mine , sir ,

O ! a pit of clay for to be made 
For such a guest is meet .


I think it be thine , indeed ; for thou liest in 't .

You lie out on 't , sir , and therefore it is not yours ; for my part , I do not lie in 't , and yet it is mine .

Thou dost lie in 't , to be in 't and say it is thine : 'tis for the dead , not for the quick ; therefore thou liest .

'Tis a quick lie , sir ; 'twill away again , from me to you .

What man dost thou dig it for ?

For no man , sir .

What woman , then ?

For none , neither .

Who is to be buried in 't ?

One that was a woman , sir ; but , rest her soul , she's dead .

How absolute the knave is ! we must speak by the card , or equivocation will undo us . By the Lord , Horatio , these three years I have taken note of it ; the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier , he galls his kibe . How long hast thou been a grave-maker ?

Of all the days i' the year , I came to 't that day that our last King Hamlet overcame Fortinbras .

How long is that since ?

Cannot you tell that ? every fool can tell that ; it was the very day that young Hamlet was born ; he that is mad , and sent into England .

Ay , marry ; why was he sent into England ?

Why , because he was mad : he shall recover his wits there ; or , if he do not , 'tis no great matter there 

Why ?

'Twill not be seen in him there ; there the men are as mad as he .

How came he mad ?

Very strangely , they say .

How strangely ?

Faith , e'en with losing his wits .

Upon what ground ?

Why , here in Denmark ; I have been sexton here , man and boy , thirty years .

How long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot ?

Faith , if he be not rotten before he die ,as we have many pocky corses now-a-days , that will scarce hold the laying in ,he will last you some eight year or nine year ; a tanner will last you nine year .

Why he more than another ?

Why , sir , his hide is so tanned with his trade that he will keep out water a great while , and your water is a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body . Here's a skull now ; this skull hath lain you i' the earth three-and-twenty years .

Whose was it ?

A whoreson mad fellow's it was : whose do you think it was ?

Nay , I know not .

A pestilence on him for a mad rogue ! a' poured a flagon of Rhenish on my head once . This same skull , sir , was Yorick's skull , the king's jester .

This !

E'en that .

Let me see .

Alas ! poor Yorick . I knew him , Horatio ; a fellow of infinite jest , of most excellent fancy ; he hath borne me on his back a thousand times ; and now , how abhorred in my imagination it is ! my gorge rises at it . Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft . Where be your gibes now ? your gambols ? your songs ? your flashes of merriment , that were wont to set the table on a roar ? Not one now , to mock your own grinning ? quite chapfallen ? Now get you to my lady's chamber , and tell her , let her paint an inch thick , to this favour she must come ; make her laugh at that . Prithee , Horatio , tell me one thing .

What's that , my lord ?

Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i' the earth ?

E'en so .

And smelt so ? pah !


E'en so , my lord .

To what base uses we may return , Horatio ! Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander , till he find it stopping a bung-hole ?

'Twere to consider too curiously , to consider so .

No , faith , not a jot ; but to follow him thither with modesty enough , and likelihood to lead it ; as thus : Alexander died , Alexander was buried , Alexander returneth into dust ; the dust is earth ; of earth we make loam , and why of that loam , whereto he was converted , might they not stop a beer-barrel ?

Imperious C sar , dead and turn'd to clay ,
Might stop a hole to keep the wind away :
O ! that that earth , which kept the world in awe ,
Should patch a wall to expal the winter's flaw .

But soft ! but soft ! aside : here comes the king .

The queen , the courtiers : who is that they follow ?
And with such maimed rites ? This doth betoken 
The corse they follow did with desperate hand 
Fordo its own life ; 'twas of some estate .
Couch we awhile , and mark .

What ceremony else ?

That is Laertes ,
A very noble youth : mark .

What ceremony else ?

Her obsequies have been as far enlarg'd 
As we have warrantise : her death was doubtful ,
And , but that great command o'ersways the order ,
She should in ground unsanctified have lodg'd 
Till the last trumpet ; for charitable prayers ,
Shards , flints , and pebbles should be thrown on her ;
Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants ,
Her maiden strewments , and the bringing home 
Of bell and burial .

Must there no more be done ?

No more be done :
We should profane the service of the dead ,
To sing a requiem , and such rest to her 
As to peace-parted souls .

Lay her i' the earth ;
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh 
May violets spring ! I tell thee , churlish priest ,
A ministering angel shall my sister be ,
When thou liest howling .

What ! the fair Ophelia ?

Sweets to the sweet : farewell !

I hop'd thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife ;
I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd , sweet maid ,
And not have strew'd thy grave .

O ! treble woe 
Fall ten times treble on that cursed head 
Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sense 
Depriv'd thee of . Hold off the earth awhile ,
Till I have caught her once more in mine arms .

Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead ,
Till of this flat a mountain you have made ,
To o'er-top old Pelion or the skyish head 
Of blue Olympus .

What is he whose grief 
Bears such an emphasis ? whose phrase of sorrow 
Conjures the wandering stars , and makes them stand 
Like wonder-wounded hearers ? this is I ,
Hamlet the Dane .


The devil take thy soul !


Thou pray'st not well .
I prithee , take thy fingers from my throat ;
For though I am not splenetive and rash 
Yet have I in me something dangerous ,
Which let thy wisdom fear . Away thy hand !

Pluck them asunder .

Hamlet ! Hamlet !

Gentlemen ,

Good my lord , be quiet .


Why , I will fight with him upon this theme 
Until my eyelids will no longer wag .

O my son ! what theme ?

I lov'd Ophelia : forty thousand brothers 
Could not , with all their quantity of love ,
Make up my sum . What wilt thou do for her ?

O ! he is mad , Laertes .

For love of God , forbear him .

'Swounds , show me what thou'lt do :
Woo't weep ? woo't fight ? woo't fast ? woo't tear thyself ?
Woo't drink up eisel ? eat a crocodile ?
I'll do't . Dost thou come here to whine ?
To outface me with leaping in her grave ?
Be buried quick with her , and so will I :
And , if thou prate of mountains , let them throw 
Millions of acres on us , till our ground ,
Singeing his pate against the burning zone ,
Make Ossa like a wart ! Nay , an thou'lt mouth ,
I'll rant as well as thou .

This is mere madness :
And thus a while the fit will work on him ;
Anon , as patient as the female dove ,
When that her golden couplets are disclos'd ,
His silence will sit drooping .

Hear you , sir ;
What is the reason that you use me thus ?
I lov'd you ever : but it is no matter ;
Let Hercules himself do what he may ,
The cat will mew and dog will have his day .


I pray you , good Horatio , wait upon him .

Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech ;
We'll put the matter to the present push .
Good Gertrude , set some watch over your son .
This grave shall have a living monument :
An hour of quiet shortly shall we see ;
Till then , in patience our proceeding be .


So much for this , sir : now shall you see the other ;
You do remember all the circumstance ?

Remember it , my lord ?

Sir , in my heart there was a kind of fighting 
That would not let me sleep ; methought I lay 
Worse than the mutines in the bilboes . Rashly ,
And prais'd be rashness for it , let us know ,
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well 
When our deep plots do pall ; and that should teach us 
There's a divinity that shapes our ends ,
Rough-hew them how we will .

That is most certain .

Up from my cabin ,
My sea-gown scarf'd about me , in the dark 
Grop'd I to find out them , had my desire ,
Finger'd their packet , and in fine withdrew 
To mine own room again ; making so bold 
My fears forgetting manners to unseal 
Their grand commission ; where I found , Horatio ,
O royal knavery ! an exact command ,
Larded with many several sorts of reasons 
Importing Denmark's health , and England's too ,
With , ho ! such bugs and goblins in my life ,
That , on the supervise , no leisure bated ,
No , not to stay the grinding of the axe ,
My head should be struck off .

Is 't possible ?

Here's the commission : read it at more leisure .
But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed ?

I beseech you .

Being thus be-netted round with villanies ,
Ere I could make a prologue to my brains 
They had begun the play ,I sat me down ,
Devis'd a new commission , wrote it fair ;
I once did hold it , as our statists do ,
A baseness to write fair , and labour'd much 
How to forget that learning ; but , sir , now 
It did me yeoman's service . Wilt thou know 
The effect of what I wrote ?

Ay , good my lord .

An earnest conjuration from the king ,
As England was his faithful tributary ,
As love between them like the palm should flourish ,
As peace should still her wheaten garland wear ,
And stand a comma 'tween their amities ,
And many such-like 'As'es of great charge ,
That , on the view and knowing of these contents ,
Without debatement further , more or less ,
He should the bearers put to sudden death ,
Not shriving-time allow'd .

How was this seal'd ?

Why , even in that was heaven ordinant .
I had my father's signet in my purse ,
Which was the model of that Danish seal ;
Folded the writ up in form of the other ,
Subscrib'd it , gave't th' impression , plac'd it safely ,
The changeling never known . Now , the next day 
Was our sea-fight , and what to this was sequent 
Thou know'st already .

So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to 't .

Why , man , they did make love to this employment ;
They are not near my conscience ; their defeat 
Does by their own insinuation grow .
'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes 
Between the pass and fell-incensed points 
Of mighty opposites .

Why , what a king is this !

Does it not , thinks't thee , stand me now upon 
He that hath kill'd my king and whor'd my mother ,
Popp'd in between the election and my hopes ,
Thrown out his angle for my proper life ,
And with such cozenage is 't not perfect conscience 
To quit him with this arm ? and is 't not to be damn'd 
To let this canker of our nature come 
In further evil ?

It must be shortly known to him from England 
What is the issue of the business there .

It will be short : the interim is mine ;
And a man's life's no more than to say 'One .' 
But I am very sorry , good Horatio ,
That to Laertes I forgot myself ;
For , by the image of my cause , I see 
The portraiture of his : I'll count his favours :
But , sure , the bravery of his grief did put me 
Into a towering passion .

Peace ! who comes here ?


Your lordship is right welcome back to Denmark .

I humbly thank you , sir .

Dost know this water-fly ?

No , my good lord .

Thy state is the more gracious ; for 'tis a vice to know him . He hath much land , and fertile : let a beast be lord of beasts , and his crib shall stand at the king's mess : 'tis a chough ; but , as I say , spacious in the possession of dirt .

Sweet lord , if your lordship were at leisure , I should impart a thing to you from his majesty .

I will receive it , sir , with all diligence of spirit . Your bonnet to his right use ; 'tis for the head .

I thank your lordship , 'tis very hot .

No , believe me , 'tis very cold ; the wind is northerly .

It is indifferent cold , my lord , indeed .

But yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for my complexion .

Exceedingly , my lord ; it is very sultry , as 'twere , I cannot tell how . But , my lord , his majesty bade me signify to you that he has laid a great wager on your head . Sir , this is the matter ,

I beseech you , remember 


Nay , good my lord ; for mine ease , in good faith . Sir , here is newly come to court Laertes ; believe me , an absolute gentleman , full of most excellent differences , of very soft society and great showing ; indeed , to speak feelingly of him , he is the card or calendar of gentry , for you shall find in him the continent of what part a gentleman would see .

Sir , his definement suffers no perdition in you ; though , I know , to divide him inventorially would dizzy the arithmetic of memory , and yet but yaw neither , in respect of his quick sail . But , in the verity of extolment , I take him to be a soul of great article ; and his infusion of such dearth and rareness , as , to make true diction of him , his semblable is his mirror ; and who else would trace him , his umbrage , nothing more .

Your lordship speaks most infallibly of him .

The concernancy , sir ? why do we wrap the gentleman in our more rawer breath ?

Sir ?

Is 't not possible to understand in another tongue ? You will do 't , sir , really .

What imports the nomination of this gentleman ?

Of Laertes ?

His purse is empty already ; all 's golden words are spent .

Of him , sir .

I know you are not ignorant 

I would you did , sir ; in faith , if you did , it would not much approve me . Well , sir .

You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is 

I dare not confess that , lest I should compare with him in excellence ; but , to know a man well , were to know himself .

I mean , sir , for his weapon ; but in the imputation laid on him by them , in his meed he's unfellowed .

What's his weapon ?

Rapier and dagger .

That's two of his weapons ; but , well .

The king , sir , hath wagered with him six Barbary horses ; against the which he has imponed , as I take it , six French rapiers and poniards , with their assigns , as girdle , hangers , and so : three of the carriages , in faith , are very dear to fancy , very responsive to the hilts , most delicate carriages , and of very liberal conceit .

What call you the carriages ?

I knew you must be edified by the margent , ere you had done .

The carriages , sir , are the hangers .

The phrase would be more german to the matter , if we could carry cannon by our sides ; I would it might be hangers till then . But , on ; six Barbary horses against six French swords , their assigns , and three liberal-conceited carriages ; that's the French bet against the Danish . Why is this 'imponed ,' as you call it ?

The king , sir , hath laid , that in a dozen passes between yourself and him , he shall not exceed you three hits ; he hath laid on twelve for nine , and it would come to immediate trial , if your lordship would vouchsafe the answer .

How if I answer no ?

I mean , my lord , the opposition of your person in trial .

Sir , I will walk here in the hall ; if it please his majesty , 'tis the breathing time of day with me ; let the foils be brought , the gentleman willing , and the king hold his purpose , I will win for him an I can ; if not , I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits .

Shall I re-deliver you so ?

To this effect , sir ; after what flourish your nature will .

I commend my duty to your lordship .

Yours , yours .

He does well to commend it himself ; there are no tongues else for 's turn .

This lapwing runs away with the shell on his head .

He did comply with his dug before he sucked it . Thus has he and many more of the same bevy , that I know the drossy age dotes on only got the tune of the time and outward habit of encounter , a kind of yesty collection which carries them through and through the most fond and winnowed opinions ; and do but blow them to their trial , the bubbles are out .


My lord , his majesty commended him to you by young Osric , who brings back to him , that you attend him in the hall ; he sends to know if your pleasure hold to play with Laertes , or that you will take longer time .

I am constant to my purposes ; they follow the king's pleasure : if his fitness speaks , mine is ready ; now , or whensoever , provided I be so able as now .

The king , and queen , and all are coming down .

In happy time .

The queen desires you to use some gentle entertainment to Laertes before you fall to play .

She well instructs me .


You will lose this wager , my lord .

I do not think so ; since he went into France , I have been in continual practice ; I shall win at the odds . But thou wouldst not think how ill all 's here about my heart ; but it is no matter .

Nay , good my lord ,

It is but foolery ; but it is such a kind of gain-giving as would perhaps trouble a woman .

If your mind dislike any thing , obey it ; I will forestal their repair hither , and say you are not fit .

Not a whit , we defy augury ; there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow . If it be now , 'tis not to come ; if it be not to come , it will be now ; if it be not now , yet it will come : the readiness is all . Since no man has aught of what he leaves , what is 't to leave betimes ? Let be .


Come , Hamlet , come , and take this hand from me .


Give me your pardon , sir ; I've done you wrong ;
But pardon 't , as you are a gentleman .
This presence knows ,
And you must needs have heard , how I am punish'd 
With sore distraction . What I have done ,
That might your nature , honour and exception 
Roughly awake , I here proclaim was madness .
Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes ? Never Hamlet :
If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away ,
And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes ,
Then Hamlet does it not ; Hamlet denies it .
Who does it then ? His madness . If 't be so ,
Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd ;
His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy .
Sir , in this audience ,
Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd evil 
Free me so far in your most generous thoughts ,
That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house ,
And hurt my brother .

I am satisfied in nature ,
Whose motive , in this case , should stir me most 
To my revenge ; but in my terms of honour 
I stand aloof , and will no reconcilement ,
Till by some elder masters , of known honour ,
I have a voice and precedent of peace ,
To keep my name ungor'd . But till that time ,
I do receive your offer'd love like love ,
And will not wrong it .

I embrace it freely ;
And will this brother's wager frankly play .
Give us the foils . Come on .

Come , one for me .

I'll be your foil , Laertes ; in mine ignorance 
Your skill shall , like a star i' the darkest night ,
Stick fiery off indeed .

You mock me , sir .

No , by this hand .

Give them the foils , young Osric . Cousin Hamlet ,
You know the wager ?

Very well , my lord ;
Your Grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side .

I do not fear it ; I have seen you both ;
But since he is better'd , we have therefore odds .

This is too heavy ; let me see another .

This likes me well . These foils have all a length ?

Ay , my good lord .


Set me the stoups of wine upon that table .
If Hamlet give the first or second hit ,
Or quit in answer of the third exchange ,
Let all the battlements their ordnance fire ;
The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath ;
And in the cup an union shall he throw ,
Richer than that which four successive kings 
In Denmark's crown have worn . Give me the cups ;
And let the kettle to the trumpet speak ,
The trumpet to the cannoneer without ,
The cannons to the heavens , the heavens to earth ,
'Now the king drinks to Hamlet !' Come , begin ;
And you , the judges , bear a wary eye .

Come on , sir .

Come , my lord .


One .

No .

Judgment .

A hit , a very palpable hit .

Well ; again .

Stay ; give me drink . Hamlet , this pearl is thine ;
Here's to thy health . Give him the cup .


I'll play this bout first ; set it by awhile .
Come .

Another hit ; what say you ?

A touch , a touch , I do confess .

Our son shall win .

He's fat , and scant of breath .
Here , Hamlet , take my napkin , rub thy brows ;
The queen carouses to thy fortune , Hamlet .

Good madam !

Gertrude , do not drink .

I will , my lord ; I pray you , pardon me .

It is the poison'd cup ! it is too late .

I dare not drink yet , madam ; by and by .

Come , let me wipe thy face .

My lord , I'll hit him now .

I do not think 't 

And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience .

Come , for the third , Laertes . You but dally ;
I pray you , pass with your best violence .
I am afeard you make a wanton of me .

Say you so ? come on .


Nothing , neither way .

Have at you now .


Part them ! they are incens'd 

Nay , come , again .


Look to the queen there , ho !

They bleed on both sides . How is it , my lord ?

How is it , Laertes ?

Why , as a woodcock to mine own springe , Osric ;
I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery .

How does the queen ?

She swounds to see them bleed .

No , no , the drink , the drink ,O my dear Hamlet !
The drink , the drink ; I am poison'd .


O villany ! Ho ! let the door be lock'd :
Treachery ! seek it out .


It is here , Hamlet . Hamlet , thou art slain ;
No medicine in the world can do thee good ;
In thee there is not half an hour of life ;
The treacherous instrument is in thy hand ,
Unbated and envenom'd . The foul practice 
Hath turn'd itself on me ; lo ! here I lie ,
Never to rise again . Thy mother's poison'd .
I can no more . The king , the king's to blame .

The point envenom'd tool .
Then , venom , to thy work .


Treason ! treason !

O ! yet defend me , friends ; I am but hurt .

Here , thou incestuous , murderous , damned Dane ,
Drink off this potion ;is thy union here ?
Follow my mother .


He is justly serv'd ;
It is a poison temper'd by himself .
Exchange forgiveness with me , noble Hamlet :
Mine and my father's death come not upon thee ,
Nor thine on me !


Heaven make thee free of it ! I follow thee .
I am dead , Horatio . Wretched queen , adieu !
You that look pale and tremble at this chance ,
That are but mutes or audience to this act ,
Had I but time ,as this fell sergeant , death ,
Is strict in his arrest ,O ! I could tell you 
But let it be . Horatio , I am dead ;
Thou liv'st ; report me and my cause aright 
To the unsatisfied .

Never believe it ;
I am more an antique Roman than a Dane :
Here's yet some liquor left .

As thou'rt a man ,
Give me the cup : let go ; by heaven , I'll have 't .
O God ! Horatio , what a wounded name ,
Things standing thus unknown , shall live behind me .
If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart ,
Absent thee from felicity awhile ,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain ,
To tell my story .

What war-like noise is this ?

Young Fortinbras , with conquest come from Poland ,
To the ambassadors of England gives 
This war-like volley .

O ! I die , Horatio ;
The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit :
I cannot live to hear the news from England ,
But I do prophesy the election lights 
On Fortinbras : he has my dying voice ;
So tell him , with the occurrents , more and less ,
Which have solicited The rest is silence .


Now cracks a noble heart . Good-night , sweet prince ,
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest !
Why does the drum come hither ?

Where is this sight ?

What is it ye would see ?
If aught of woe or wonder , cease your search .

This quarry cries on havoc . O proud death !
What feast is toward in thine eternal cell ,
That thou so many princes at a shot 
So bloodily hast struck ?

The sight is dismal ;
And our affairs from England come too late :
The ears are senseless that should give us hearing ,
To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd ,
That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead .
Where should we have our thanks ?

Not from his mouth ,
Had it the ability of life to thank you :
He never gave commandment for their death .
But since , so jump upon this bloody question ,
You from the Polack wars , and you from England ,
Are here arriv'd , give order that these bodies 
High on a stage be placed to the view ;
And let me speak to the yet unknowing world 
How these things came about : so shall you hear 
Of carnal , bloody , and unnatural acts ,
Of accidental judgments , casual slaughters ;
Of deaths put on by cunning and forc'd cause ,
And , in this upshot , purposes mistook 
Fall'n on the inventors' heads ; all this can I 
Truly deliver .

Let us haste to hear it ,
And call the noblest to the audience .
For me , with sorrow I embrace my fortune ;
I have some rights of memory in this kingdom ,
Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me .

Of that I shall have also cause to speak ,
And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more :
But let this same be presently perform'd ,
Even while men's minds are wild , lest more mischance 
On plots and errors happen .

Let four captains 
Bear Hamlet , like a soldier , to the stage ;
For he was likely , had he been put on ,
To have prov'd most royally : and , for his passage ,
The soldiers' music and the rites of war 
Speak loudly for him .
Take up the bodies : such a sight as this 
Becomes the field , but here shows much amiss .
Go , bid the soldiers shoot .