Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,
But bear me stiffly up!-Remember thee?
Ay, thou ponr 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 cnpied 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,3-meet it is, I set it down,
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;
At least, I am sure, it may be so in Denmark:

[Writing.

So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;
It is, Adieu, adieu! remember me.

I have sworn't.

Hor. [Within.] My lord, my lord,

Mar. Within.] Lord Hamlet,-
Hor. [Within.]

Ham.

Heaven secure him!

So be it.

Mar. [Within.] Illo, ho, ho, my lord!
Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Mar. How is't, my noble lord?
Hor.

Ham. O, wonderful!

Hor.

Ham.

You will reveal it.

Hor.

What news, my lord?
Good my lord, tell it.

No;

Not I, my lord, by heaven.
Nor I, my lord.
Mar.
Ham. How say you then; would heart of man
once think it ?-

But you'll be secret,

Hor. Mar.

Ay, by heaven, my lord. Ham. There's ne'er a villain, dwelling in all Denmark,

But he's an arrant knave.

[blocks in formation]

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

Hor. There needs no ghost, my lord, come from if they might ;-
the grave,

To tell us this.
Ham.
Why, right; you are in 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

[blocks in formation]

Or such ambiguous giving out, to note
That you know aught of me:-This do you swear,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you!
Ghost. [Beneath.] Swear.

Ham. Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So, gentlemen,
point 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.

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

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

There's no offence, my lord.

Ham. 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,

ACT II.

[Exeunt.

O'er-master it as you may. And now, good friends, SCENE I.-A room in Polonius's house. Enter As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,

[blocks in formation]

Of his behaviour.

Look

Rey.
My lord, I did intend it.
Pol. Marry, well said: very well said.
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?
Rey. Ay, very well, my lord.

Pol. 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.

Rey.
Pol. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing,
relling,

Drabbing:-You may go so far.

Rey. My lord, that would dishonour him.

[blocks in formation]

Rey. Good my lord,-

Pol. Observe his inclination in yourself.
Rey. I shall, my lord.

Pol. And let him ply his music.
Rey.

Well, my lord. [Erit. Enter Ophelia.

Pol. Farewell!-How now, Ophelia? what's the matter?

Oph. O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!

Pol. With what, in the name of heaven?

Oph. 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,

quar-As if he had been loosed out of hell,
To speak of horrors,-he comes before me.
Pol. Mad for thy love?

Oph.

Pol. Faith, no; as you may season it in the But, truly, I do fear it.

charge.

You must not put another scandal on him, That he is open to incontinency;

My lord, I do not know;

What said he?

Pol.
Oph. He took me by the wrist, and held me
hard;

That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so Then goes he to the length of all his arm;

quaintly,

That they may seem the taints of liberty:

The flash and out-break of a fiery mind;

A savageness in unreclaimed blood,

Of general assault.

[blocks in formation]

Pol. Wherefore should you do this? Rey.

I would know that.

Ay, my lord,
Pol.
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, 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,
As 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 helps,
And, to the last, bended their light on me.

Pol. Come, go with me; I will go seek the king. This is the very ecstacy of love;

Whose violent property foredoes 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? Oph. No, my good lord; but, as you did command,

I did repel his letters, and denied

Rey.
Pol. And then, sir, does he this,-He does-His access to me.
What was I about to say?-By the mass, I was
about to say something :-Where did I leave?

Rey. At, closes in the consequence.

Pol. At, closes in the consequence,-Ay, marry; He closes with you thus :-I know the gentleman; I saw him yesterday, or l'other day,

Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you
say,

There was he gaming; there o'ertook in his 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;

[blocks in formation]

Pol.

That hath made him mad.
I am sorry, that with better heed and judgment,
I had not quoted him; I fear'd, he did but triffe,
And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jea-
lousy!

It seems, it is as proper to our age
To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions,
As it is common for the younger sort
To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king:
This must be known; which, being kept close,
might move

More grief to hide, than hate to utter love.
Come.

(5) Hanging down, like fetters. Destroys, (8) Observed.

[Exeunt,

(6) Body.

SCENE II-A room in the castle. Enter King, Queen, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Attendants.

King. Welcome, dear Rosencrantz, and

denstern!

King. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. [Exit Polonius. He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found Guil-The head and source of all your son's distemper. Queen. I doubt, it is no other but the main; His father's death, and our o'er-hasty marriage. Re-enter Polonius, with Voltimand and Cornelius. King. Well, we shall sift him.-Welcome, my good friends!

Moreover that we much did long to see you,
The need we have to use you, did provoke
Our hasty sending. Something have you heard
Of Hamlet's transformation; so I call it,
Since not the exterior nor the inward man
Resembles that it was: What it should be,
More than his father's death, that thus hath put him
So much from the understanding of himself,
I cannot dream of: I entreat you both,
That,-being of so young days brought up with him;
And, since, so neighbour'd to his youth and hu-

mour,

That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court
Some little time: so by your companies
To draw him on to pleasures; and to gather,
So much as from occasion you may glean,
Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus,
That, open'd, lies within our remedy.
Queen. Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd

of you;

And, sure I am, two men there are not living,
To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
To show us so much gentry,' and good will,
As to expend your time with us a while,
For the supply and profit of our hope,
Your visitation shall receive such thanks
As fits a king's remembrance.
Ros.

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

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

King. Thanks, Rosencrantz, and gentle Guil

denstern.

Queen. Thanks, Guildenstern, and gentle Rosen

[blocks in formation]

Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?
Volt. Most fair return of greetings, and desires.
Upon our first, he sent out to suppress
His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd
To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack;
But, better look'd into, he truly found
It was against your highness: Whereat griev'd,-
That so his sickness, age, and impotence,
Was falsely borne in hand,--sends out arrests
On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys;
Receives rebuke from Norway; and, in fine,
Makes vow before his uncle, never more
To give the assay of arms against your majesty.
Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,
Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee;
And his commission, to employ those soldiers,
So levied as before, against the Polack:
With an entreaty, herein further shown,

[Gives a paper.

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

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

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

Pol.

[Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius,
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.

Queen.

More matter, with less art. Pol. Madam, I swear I use no art at all. That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true, 'tis pity; And pity 'tis, 'tis true: a foolish figure; But farewell it, for I will use no art.

Pol. The embassadors from Norway, my good Mad let us grant him then: and now remains,

lord,

Are joyfully return'd.

King. Thou still hast been the father of good

news.

Pol. Have I, my lord? Assure you my good
liege,

I hold my duty, as I hold my soul,
Both to my God, and to my gracious king:
And I do think (or else this brain of mine
Hunts not the trail' of policy so sure
As it hath us'd to do,) that I have found
The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.
King. O, speak of that; that do I long to hear.
Pol. Give first admittance to the embassadors;
My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.

Complaisance. (2) Utmost exertion.
Scent.
(4) Dessert.

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 beau
tified Ophelia,-

That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; beautified is vile phrase; but you shall hear. Thus:

In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.

Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her?

(5) Poland, (6) Imposed on. (7) Discuss.

Pol. Good madam, stay a while; I will be faith- Pol. Away, I do beseech you, both away; ful.

[blocks in formation]

Receiv'd his love?

Pol.

But how hath she

[ocr errors]

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

When I had seen this hot love on the wing
(As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that,
Before my daughter told me,) what might you,
Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,
If I had play'd the desk, or table book;
Or given my heart a working, mute and dumb;
Or look'd upon this love with idle sight;
What might you think? no, I went round' to work,
And my young mistress thus did I bespeak;
Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy sphere;
This must not be and then 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 mourn for.

King.
Do you think, 'tis this?
Queen. It may be, very likely.
Pol. Hath there been such a time (I'd fain know
that,)

That I have positively said, 'Tis so,
When it prov'd otherwise?

King.

Not that I know.

Pol. Take this from this, if this be otherwise :
[Pointing to his head and shoulder.

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

King. Pol. You know, together, Here in the lobby.

Queen.

How may we try it further?

sometimes he walks four hours

So he does, indeed.

Pol. At such a time I'll loose my daughter to

[blocks in formation]

I'll board' him presently :-O, give me leave.[Exeunt King, Queen, and Attendants.

How does my good Lord Hamlet?

Ham. Well, god-'a-mercy.

Pol. Do you know me, my lord?

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

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

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

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

Pol. I have, my lord.

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

Pol. How say you by that? [Aside.] 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?

Ham. Words, words, words!

Pol. What is the matter, my lord?
Ham. Between who?

Pol. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. Ham. Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here, that old men have grey beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thick amber, and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams: All of which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, shall be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward.

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

Ham. Into my grave?

Pol. Indeed, that is out o'the air.-How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not 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.

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

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

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Pol. You go to seek the lord Hamlet; there he is. Ros. God save you, sir! [To Polonius. [Exit Polonius.

Guil. My honour'd lord!

Ros. My most dear lord!

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

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

Ros. Neither, my lord.

[blocks in formation]

Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the [forgone all custom of exercises: and, indeed, it middle of her favours?

Guil. 'Faith, her privates we. Ham. In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she is a strumpet. What news!

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

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

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

one of the worst.

Ros. We think not so, my lord.

Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you: for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so to me it is a prison.

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

Ham. 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.

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

Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.

Ros. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality, that it is but a shadow's shadow. Ham. Then are our beggars, bodies; and our monarchs, and outstretch'd heroes, the beggars' shadows: Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I

cannot reason.

Ros. Guil. We'll wait upon you.

Ham. No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest of my servants; for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore ?

Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you; and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear, a 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.

Guil. What should we say, my lord?

Ham. Any thing-but to the purpose. You were sent for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: I know, the good king and queen have sent for you.

Ros. To what end, my lord!

Ham. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you were sent for, or no? Ros. What say you? [To Guildenstern. Ham. Nay, then I have an eye of you; [Aside.] -if you love me, hold not off.

Guil. My lord, we were sent for.

Ham. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult no eather. I have of late (but, wherefore, I know not,) lost all my mirth,

(1) Spare.
(2) Overtook.
(3) Become strollers. (4) Young nestlings.
(5) Dialogue.
(6) Paid.

goes so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a steril promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form, and moving, how express and admirable! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not me, nor woman neither; though, by your smiling, you seem to say so.

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

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

Ros. To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what lenten' entertainment the players shall receive from you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they coming, to offer you service.

Ham. He that plays the king, shall be welcome; his majesty shall have tribute of me: the adventurous knight shall use his foil, and target: the lover shall not sigh gratis; the humorous man shall end his part in peace: the clown shall make those laugh, whose lungs are tickled o'the sere; and the lady shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt for't.-What players are they?

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

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

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

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

Ham. How comes it? Do they grow rusty?

Ros. Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: But there is, sir, an aiery of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are most 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.

Ham. What, are they children? who maintains them? how are they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sin? 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?

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

Ham. Is it possible?

Guil. O, there has been much throwing about of brains.

Ham. Do the boys carry it away?

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

Ham. It is not very strange; for my uncle is king of Denmark, and those, that would make mouths at him while my father lived, give twenty,

[blocks in formation]
« ZurückWeiter »