The Tragedie of Hamlet

 
 Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
 
 Enter Barnardo and Francisco two Centinels.
 
   Barnardo. Who's there?
   Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold
 your selfe
 
    Bar. Long liue the King
 
    Fran. Barnardo?
   Bar. He
 
    Fran. You come most carefully vpon your houre
 
    Bar. 'Tis now strook twelue, get thee to bed Francisco
 
    Fran. For this releefe much thankes: 'Tis bitter cold,
 And I am sicke at heart
 
    Barn. Haue you had quiet Guard?
   Fran. Not a Mouse stirring
 
    Barn. Well, goodnight. If you do meet Horatio and
 Marcellus, the Riuals of my Watch, bid them make hast.
 Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
 
   Fran. I thinke I heare them. Stand: who's there?
   Hor. Friends to this ground
 
    Mar. And Leige-men to the Dane
 
    Fran. Giue you good night
 
    Mar. O farwel honest Soldier, who hath relieu'd you?
   Fra. Barnardo ha's my place: giue you goodnight.
 
 Exit Fran.
 
   Mar. Holla Barnardo
 
    Bar. Say, what is Horatio there?
   Hor. A peece of him
 
    Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus
 
    Mar. What, ha's this thing appear'd againe to night
 
    Bar. I haue seene nothing
 
    Mar. Horatio saies, 'tis but our Fantasie,
 And will not let beleefe take hold of him
 Touching this dreaded sight, twice seene of vs,
 Therefore I haue intreated him along
 With vs, to watch the minutes of this Night,
 That if againe this Apparition come,
 He may approue our eyes, and speake to it
 
    Hor. Tush, tush, 'twill not appeare
 
    Bar. Sit downe a-while,
 And let vs once againe assaile your eares,
 That are so fortified against our Story,
 What we two Nights haue seene
 
    Hor. Well, sit we downe,
 And let vs heare Barnardo speake of this
 
    Barn. Last night of all,
 When yond same Starre that's Westward from the Pole
 Had made his course t' illume that part of Heauen
 Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my selfe,
 The Bell then beating one
 
    Mar. Peace, breake thee of:
 Enter the Ghost.
 
 Looke where it comes againe
 
    Barn. In the same figure, like the King that's dead
 
    Mar. Thou art a Scholler; speake to it Horatio
 
    Barn. Lookes it not like the King? Marke it Horatio
 
    Hora. Most like: It harrowes me with fear & wonder
   Barn. It would be spoke too
 
    Mar. Question it Horatio
 
    Hor. What art thou that vsurp'st this time of night,
 Together with that Faire and Warlike forme
 In which the Maiesty of buried Denmarke
 Did sometimes march: By Heauen I charge thee speake
 
    Mar. It is offended
 
    Barn. See, it stalkes away
 
    Hor. Stay: speake; speake: I Charge thee, speake.
 
 Exit the Ghost.
 
   Mar. 'Tis gone, and will not answer
 
    Barn. How now Horatio? You tremble & look pale:
 Is not this something more then Fantasie?
 What thinke you on't?
   Hor. Before my God, I might not this beleeue
 Without the sensible and true auouch
 Of mine owne eyes
 
    Mar. Is it not like the King?
   Hor. As thou art to thy selfe,
 Such was the very Armour he had on,
 When th' Ambitious Norwey combatted:
 So frown'd he once, when in an angry parle
 He smot the sledded Pollax on the Ice.
 'Tis strange
 
    Mar. Thus twice before, and iust at this dead houre,
 With Martiall stalke, hath he gone by our Watch
 
    Hor. In what particular thought to work, I know not:
 But in the grosse and scope of my Opinion,
 This boades some strange erruption to our State
 
    Mar. Good now sit downe, & tell me he that knowes
 Why this same strict and most obseruant Watch,
 So nightly toyles the subiect of the Land,
 And why such dayly Cast of Brazon Cannon
 And Forraigne Mart for Implements of warre:
 Why such impresse of Ship-wrights, whose sore Taske
 Do's not diuide the Sunday from the weeke,
 What might be toward, that this sweaty hast
 Doth make the Night ioynt-Labourer with the day:
 Who is't that can informe me?
   Hor. That can I,
 At least the whisper goes so: Our last King,
 Whose Image euen but now appear'd to vs,
 Was (as you know) by Fortinbras of Norway,
 (Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate Pride)
 Dar'd to the Combate. In which, our Valiant Hamlet,
 (For so this side of our knowne world esteem'd him)
 Did slay this Fortinbras: who by a Seal'd Compact,
 Well ratified by Law, and Heraldrie,
 Did forfeite (with his life) all those his Lands
 Which he stood seiz'd on, to the Conqueror:
 Against the which, a Moity competent
 Was gaged by our King: which had return'd
 To the Inheritance of Fortinbras,
 Had he bin Vanquisher, as by the same Cou'nant
 And carriage of the Article designe,
 His fell to Hamlet. Now sir, young Fortinbras,
 Of vnimproued Mettle, hot and full,
 Hath in the skirts of Norway, heere and there,
 Shark'd vp a List of Landlesse Resolutes,
 For Foode and Diet, to some Enterprize
 That hath a stomacke in't: which is no other
 (And it doth well appeare vnto our State)
 But to recouer of vs by strong hand
 And termes Compulsatiue, those foresaid Lands
 So by his Father lost: and this (I take it)
 Is the maine Motiue of our Preparations,
 The Sourse of this our Watch, and the cheefe head
 Of this post-hast, and Romage in the Land.
 Enter Ghost againe.
 
 But soft, behold: Loe, where it comes againe:
 Ile crosse it, though it blast me. Stay Illusion:
 If thou hast any sound, or vse of Voyce,
 Speake 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 priuy to thy Countries Fate
 (Which happily foreknowing may auoyd) Oh speake.
 Or, if thou hast vp-hoorded in thy life
 Extorted Treasure in the wombe of Earth,
 (For which, they say, you Spirits oft walke in death)
 Speake of it. Stay, and speake. Stop it Marcellus
 
    Mar. Shall I strike at it with my Partizan?
   Hor. Do, if it will not stand
 
    Barn. 'Tis heere
 
    Hor. 'Tis heere
 
    Mar. 'Tis gone.
 
 Exit Ghost.
 
 We do it wrong, being so Maiesticall
 To offer it the shew of Violence,
 For it is as the Ayre, invulnerable,
 And our vaine blowes, malicious Mockery
 
    Barn. It was about to speake, when the Cocke crew
 
    Hor. And then it started, like a guilty thing
 Vpon a fearfull Summons. I haue heard,
 The Cocke that is the Trumpet to the day,
 Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding Throate
 Awake the God of Day: and at his warning,
 Whether in Sea, or Fire, in Earth, or Ayre,
 Th' extrauagant, and erring Spirit, hyes
 To his Confine. And of the truth heerein,
 This present Obiect made probation
 
    Mar. It faded on the crowing of the Cocke.
 Some sayes, that euer 'gainst that Season comes
 Wherein our Sauiours Birch is celebrated,
 The Bird of Dawning singeth all night long:
 And then (they say) no Spirit can walke abroad,
 The nights are wholsome, then no Planets strike,
 No Faiery talkes, nor Witch hath power to Charme:
 So hallow'd, and so gracious is the time
 
    Hor. So haue I heard, and do in part beleeue it.
 But looke, the Morne in Russet mantle clad,
 Walkes o're the dew of yon high Easterne Hill,
 Breake we our Watch vp, and by my aduice
 Let vs impart what we haue seene to night
 Vnto yong Hamlet. For vpon my life,
 This Spirit dumbe to vs, will speake to him:
 Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
 As needfull in our Loues, fitting our Duty?
   Mar. Let do't I pray, and I this morning know
 Where we shall finde him most conueniently.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Scena Secunda.
 
 Enter Claudius King of Denmarke, Gertrude the Queene, Hamlet,
 Polonius,
 Laertes, and his Sister Ophelia, Lords Attendant.
 
   King. Though yet of Hamlet our deere Brothers death
 The memory be greene: and that it vs befitted
 To beare our hearts in greefe, and our whole Kingdome
 To be contracted in one brow of woe:
 Yet so farre hath Discretion fought with Nature,
 That we with wisest sorrow thinke on him,
 Together with remembrance of our selues.
 Therefore our sometimes Sister, now our Queene,
 Th' imperiall Ioyntresse of this warlike State,
 Haue we, as 'twere, with a defeated ioy,
 With one Auspicious, and one Dropping eye,
 With mirth in Funerall, and with Dirge in Marriage,
 In equall Scale weighing Delight and Dole
 Taken to Wife; nor haue we heerein barr'd
 Your better Wisedomes, which haue freely gone
 With this affaire along, for all our Thankes.
 Now followes, that you know young Fortinbras,
 Holding a weake supposall of our worth;
 Or thinking by our late deere Brothers death,
 Our State to be disioynt, and out of Frame,
 Colleagued with the dreame of his Aduantage;
 He hath not fayl'd to pester vs with Message,
 Importing the surrender of those Lands
 Lost by his Father: with all Bonds of Law
 To our most valiant Brother. So much for him.
 Enter Voltemand and Cornelius.
 
 Now for our selfe, and for this time of meeting
 Thus much the businesse is. We haue heere writ
 To Norway, Vncle of young Fortinbras,
 Who Impotent and Bedrid, scarsely heares
 Of this his Nephewes purpose, to suppresse
 His further gate heerein. In that the Leuies,
 The Lists, and full proportions are all made
 Out of his subiect: and we heere dispatch
 You good Cornelius, and you Voltemand,
 For bearing of this greeting to old Norway,
 Giuing to you no further personall power
 To businesse with the King, more then the scope
 Of these dilated Articles allow:
 Farewell, and let your hast commend your duty
 
    Volt. In that, and all things, will we shew our duty
 
    King. We doubt it nothing, heartily farewell.
 
 Exit Voltemand and Cornelius.
 
 And now Laertes, what's the newes with you?
 You told vs of some suite. What is't Laertes?
 You cannot speake of Reason to the Dane,
 And loose your voyce. What would'st thou beg Laertes,
 That shall not be my Offer, not thy Asking?
 The Head is not more Natiue to the Heart,
 The Hand more instrumentall to the Mouth,
 Then is the Throne of Denmarke to thy Father.
 What would'st thou haue Laertes?
   Laer. Dread my Lord,
 Your leaue and fauour to returne to France,
 From whence, though willingly I came to Denmarke
 To shew my duty in your Coronation,
 Yet now I must confesse, that duty done,
 My thoughts and wishes bend againe towards France,
 And bow them to your gracious leaue and pardon
 
    King. Haue you your Fathers leaue?
 What sayes Pollonius?
   Pol. He hath my Lord:
 I do beseech you giue him leaue to go
 
    King. Take thy faire houre Laertes, time be thine,
 And thy best graces spend it at thy will:
 But now my Cosin Hamlet, and my Sonne?
   Ham. A little more then kin, and lesse then kinde
 
    King. How is it that the Clouds still hang on you?
   Ham. Not so my Lord, I am too much i'th' Sun
 
    Queen. Good Hamlet cast thy nightly colour off,
 And let thine eye looke like a Friend on Denmarke.
 Do not for euer with thy veyled lids
 Seeke for thy Noble Father in the dust;
 Thou know'st 'tis common, all that liues must dye,
 Passing through Nature, to Eternity
 
    Ham. I Madam, it is common
 
    Queen. If it be;
 Why seemes it so particular with thee
 
    Ham. Seemes Madam? Nay, it is: I know not Seemes:
 'Tis not alone my Inky Cloake (good Mother)
 Nor Customary suites of solemne Blacke,
 Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,
 No, nor the fruitfull Riuer in the Eye,
 Nor the deiected hauiour of the Visage,
 Together with all Formes, Moods, shewes of Griefe,
 That can denote me truly. These indeed Seeme,
 For they are actions that a man might play:
 But I haue that Within, which passeth show;
 These, but the Trappings, and the Suites of woe
 
    King. 'Tis sweet and commendable
 In your Nature Hamlet,
 To giue these mourning duties to your Father:
 But you must know, your Father lost a Father,
 That Father lost, lost his, and the Suruiuer bound
 In filiall Obligation, for some terme
 To do obsequious Sorrow. But to perseuer
 In obstinate Condolement, is a course
 Of impious stubbornnesse. 'Tis vnmanly greefe,
 It shewes a will most incorrect to Heauen,
 A Heart vnfortified, a Minde impatient,
 An Vnderstanding simple, and vnschool'd:
 For, what we know must be, and is as common
 As any the most vulgar thing to sence,
 Why should we in our peeuish Opposition
 Take it to heart? Fye, 'tis a fault to Heauen,
 A fault against the Dead, a fault to Nature,
 To Reason most absurd, whose common Theame
 Is death of Fathers, and who still hath cried,
 From the first Coarse, till he that dyed to day,
 This must be so. We pray you throw to earth
 This vnpreuayling woe, and thinke of vs
 As of a Father; For let the world take note,
 You are the most immediate to our Throne,
 And with no lesse Nobility of Loue,
 Then that which deerest Father beares his Sonne,
 Do I impart towards you. For your intent
 In going backe to Schoole in Wittenberg,
 It is most retrograde to our desire:
 And we beseech you, bend you to remaine
 Heere in the cheere and comfort of our eye,
 Our cheefest Courtier Cosin, and our Sonne
 
    Qu. Let not thy Mother lose her Prayers Hamlet:
 I prythee stay with vs, go not to Wittenberg
 
    Ham. I shall in all my best
 Obey you Madam
 
    King. Why 'tis a louing, and a faire Reply,
 Be as our selfe in Denmarke. Madam come,
 This gentle and vnforc'd accord of Hamlet
 Sits smiling to my heart; in grace whereof,
 No iocond health that Denmarke drinkes to day,
 But the great Cannon to the Clowds shall tell,
 And the Kings Rouce, the Heauens shall bruite againe,
 Respeaking earthly Thunder. Come away.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Manet Hamlet.
 
   Ham. Oh that this too too solid Flesh, would melt,
 Thaw, and resolue it selfe into a Dew:
 Or that the Euerlasting had not fixt
 His Cannon 'gainst Selfe-slaughter. O God, O God!
 How weary, stale, flat, and vnprofitable
 Seemes to me all the vses of this world?
 Fie on't? Oh fie, fie, 'tis an vnweeded Garden
 That growes to Seed: Things rank, and grosse in Nature
 Possesse it meerely. That it should come to this:
 But two months dead: Nay, not so much; not two,
 So excellent a King, that was to this
 Hiperion to a Satyre: so louing to my Mother,
 That he might not beteene the windes of heauen
 Visit her face too roughly. Heauen and Earth
 Must I remember: why she would hang on him,
 As if encrease of Appetite had growne
 By what is fed on; and yet within a month?
 Let me not thinke on't: Frailty, thy name is woman.
 A little Month, or ere those shooes were old,
 With which she followed my poore Fathers body
 Like Niobe, all teares. Why she, euen she.
 (O Heauen! A beast that wants discourse of Reason
 Would haue mourn'd longer) married with mine Vnkle,
 My Fathers Brother: but no more like my Father,
 Then I to Hercules. Within a Moneth?
 Ere yet the salt of most vnrighteous Teares
 Had left the flushing of her gauled 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 breake my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
 Enter Horatio, Barnardo, and Marcellus.
 
   Hor. Haile to your Lordship
 
    Ham. I am glad to see you well:
 Horatio, or I do forget my selfe
 
    Hor. The same my Lord,
 And your poore Seruant euer
 
    Ham. Sir my good friend,
 Ile change that name with you:
 And what make you from Wittenberg Horatio?
 Marcellus
 
    Mar. My good Lord
 
    Ham. I am very glad to see you: good euen Sir.
 But what in faith make you from Wittemberge?
   Hor. A truant disposition, good my Lord
 
    Ham. I would not haue your Enemy say so;
 Nor shall you doe mine eare that violence,
 To make it truster of your owne report
 Against your selfe. I know you are no Truant:
 But what is your affaire in Elsenour?
 Wee'l teach you to drinke deepe, ere you depart
 
    Hor. My Lord, I came to see your Fathers Funerall
 
    Ham. I pray thee doe not mock me (fellow Student)
 I thinke it was to see my Mothers Wedding
 
    Hor. Indeed my Lord, it followed hard vpon
 
    Ham. Thrift thrift Horatio: the Funerall Bakt-meats
 Did coldly furnish forth the Marriage Tables;
 Would I had met my dearest foe in heauen,
 Ere I had euer seene that day Horatio.
 My father, me thinkes I see my father
 
    Hor. Oh where my Lord?
   Ham. In my minds eye (Horatio)
   Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly King
 
    Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all:
 I shall not look vpon his like againe
 
    Hor. My Lord, I thinke I saw him yesternight
 
    Ham. Saw? Who?
   Hor. My Lord, the King your Father
 
    Ham. The King my Father?
   Hor. Season your admiration for a while
 With an attent eare; till I may deliuer
 Vpon the witnesse of these Gentlemen,
 This maruell to you
 
    Ham. For Heauens loue let me heare
 
    Hor. Two nights together, had these Gentlemen
 (Marcellus and Barnardo) on their Watch
 In the dead wast and middle of the night
 Beene thus encountred. A figure like your Father,
 Arm'd at all points exactly, Cap a Pe,
 Appeares before them, and with sollemne march
 Goes slow and stately: By them thrice he walkt,
 By their opprest and feare-surprized eyes,
 Within his Truncheons length; whilst they bestil'd
 Almost to Ielly with the Act of feare,
 Stand dumbe and speake not to him. This to me
 In dreadfull secrecie impart they did,
 And I with them the third Night kept the Watch,
 Whereas they had deliuer'd both in time,
 Forme of the thing; each word made true and good,
 The Apparition comes. I knew your Father:
 These hands are not more like
 
    Ham. But where was this?
   Mar. My Lord vpon the platforme where we watcht
 
    Ham. Did you not speake to it?
   Hor. My Lord, I did;
 But answere made it none: yet once me thought
 It lifted vp it head, and did addresse
 It selfe to motion, like as it would speake:
 But euen then, the Morning Cocke crew lowd;
 And at the sound it shrunke in hast away,
 And vanisht from our sight
 
    Ham. Tis very strange
 
    Hor. As I doe liue my honourd Lord 'tis true;
 And we did thinke it writ downe in our duty
 To let you know of it
 
    Ham. Indeed, indeed Sirs; but this troubles me.
 Hold you the watch to Night?
   Both. We doe my Lord
 
    Ham. Arm'd, say you?
   Both. Arm'd, my Lord
 
    Ham. From top to toe?
   Both. My Lord, from head to foote
 
    Ham. Then saw you not his face?
   Hor. O yes, my Lord, he wore his Beauer vp
 
    Ham. What, lookt he frowningly?
   Hor. A countenance more in sorrow then in anger
 
    Ham. Pale, or red?
   Hor. Nay very pale
 
    Ham. And fixt his eyes vpon you?
   Hor. Most constantly
 
    Ham. I would I had beene there
 
    Hor. It would haue much amaz'd you
 
    Ham. Very like, very like: staid it long?
   Hor. While one with moderate hast might tell a hundred
 
    All. Longer, longer
 
    Hor. Not when I saw't
 
    Ham. His Beard was grisly? no
 
    Hor. It was, as I haue seene it in his life,
 A Sable Siluer'd
 
    Ham. Ile watch to Night; perchance 'twill wake againe
 
    Hor. I warrant you it will
 
    Ham. If it assume my noble Fathers person,
 Ile speake to it, though Hell it selfe should gape
 And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
 If you haue hitherto conceald this sight;
 Let it bee treble in your silence still:
 And whatsoeuer els shall hap to night,
 Giue it an vnderstanding but no tongue;
 I will requite your loues; so fare ye well:
 Vpon the Platforme twixt eleuen and twelue,
 Ile visit you
 
    All. Our duty to your Honour.
 
 Exeunt
 
    Ham. Your loue, as mine to you: farewell.
 My Fathers Spirit in Armes? All is not well:
 I doubt some foule play: would the Night were come;
 Till then sit still my soule; foule deeds will rise,
 Though all the earth orewhelm them to mens eies.
 Enter.
 
 
 Scena Tertia
 
 
 Enter Laertes and Ophelia.
 
   Laer. My necessaries are imbark't; Farewell:
 And Sister, as the Winds giue Benefit,
 And Conuoy is assistant; doe not sleepe,
 But let me heare from you
 
    Ophel. Doe you doubt that?
   Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his fauours,
 Hold it a fashion and a toy in Bloude;
 A Violet in the youth of Primy Nature;
 Froward, not permanent; sweet not lasting
 The suppliance of a minute? No more
 
    Ophel. No more but so
 
    Laer. Thinke it no more:
 For nature cressant does not grow alone,
 In thewes and Bulke: but as his Temple waxes,
 The inward seruice of the Minde and Soule
 Growes wide withall. Perhaps he loues you now,
 And now no soyle nor cautell doth besmerch
 The vertue of his feare: but you must feare
 His greatnesse weigh'd, his will is not his owne;
 For hee himselfe is subiect to his Birth:
 Hee may not, as vnuallued persons doe,
 Carue for himselfe; for, on his choyce depends
 The sanctity and health of the whole State.
 And therefore must his choyce be circumscrib'd
 Vnto the voyce and yeelding of that Body,
 Whereof he is the Head. Then if he sayes he loues you,
 It fits your wisedome so farre to beleeue it;
 As he in his peculiar Sect and force
 May giue his saying deed: which is no further,
 Then the maine voyce of Denmarke goes withall.
 Then weight what losse your Honour may sustaine,
 If with too credent eare you list his Songs;
 Or lose your Heart; or your chast Treasure open
 To his vnmastred importunity.
 Feare it Ophelia, feare it my deare Sister,
 And keepe within the reare of your Affection;
 Out of the shot and danger of Desire.
 The chariest Maid is Prodigall enough,
 If she vnmaske her beauty to the Moone:
 Vertue it selfe scapes not calumnious stroakes,
 The Canker Galls, the Infants of the Spring
 Too oft before the buttons be disclos'd,
 And in the Morne and liquid dew of Youth,
 Contagious blastments are most imminent.
 Be wary then, best safety lies in feare;
 Youth to it selfe rebels, though none else neere
 
    Ophe. I shall th' effect of this good Lesson keepe,
 As watchmen to my heart: but good my Brother
 Doe not as some vngracious Pastors doe,
 Shew me the steepe and thorny way to Heauen;
 Whilst like a puft and recklesse Libertine
 Himselfe, the Primrose path of dalliance treads,
 And reaks not his owne reade
 
    Laer. Oh, feare me not.
 Enter Polonius.
 
 I stay too long; but here my Father comes:
 A double blessing is a double grace;
 Occasion smiles vpon a second leaue
 
    Polon. Yet heere Laertes? Aboord, aboord for shame,
 The winde sits in the shoulder of your saile,
 And you are staid for there: my blessing with you;
 And these few Precepts in thy memory,
 See thou Character. Giue thy thoughts no tongue,
 Nor any vnproportion'd thoughts his Act:
 Be thou familiar; but by no meanes vulgar:
 The friends thou hast, and their adoption tride,
 Grapple them to thy Soule, with hoopes of Steele:
 But doe not dull thy palme, with entertainment
 Of each vnhatch't, vnfledg'd Comrade. Beware
 Of entrance to a quarrell: but being in
 Bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee.
 Giue euery man thine eare; but few thy voyce:
 Take each mans censure; but reserue thy iudgement:
 Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy;
 But not exprest in fancie; rich, not gawdie:
 For the Apparell oft proclaimes the man.
 And they in France of the best ranck and station,
 Are of a most select and generous cheff in that.
 Neither a borrower, nor a lender be;
 For lone oft loses both it selfe and friend:
 And borrowing duls the edge of Husbandry.
 This aboue all; to thine owne selfe be true:
 And it must follow, as the Night the Day,
 Thou canst not then be false to any man.
 Farewell: my Blessing season this in thee
 
    Laer. Most humbly doe I take my leaue, my Lord
 
    Polon. The time inuites you, goe, your seruants tend
 
    Laer. Farewell Ophelia, and remember well
 What I haue said to you
 
    Ophe. Tis in my memory lockt,
 And you your selfe shall keepe the key of it
 
    Laer. Farewell.
 
 Exit Laer.
 
   Polon. What ist Ophelia he hath said to you?
   Ophe. So please you, somthing touching the L[ord]. Hamlet
 
    Polon. Marry, well bethought:
 Tis told me he hath very oft of late
 Giuen priuate time to you; and you your selfe
 Haue of your audience beene 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 doe not vnderstand your selfe so cleerely,
 As it behoues my Daughter, and your Honour.
 What is betweene you, giue me vp the truth?
   Ophe. He hath my Lord of late, made many tenders
 Of his affection to me
 
    Polon. Affection, puh. You speake like a greene Girle,
 Vnsifted in such perillous Circumstance.
 Doe you beleeue his tenders, as you call them?
   Ophe. I do not know, my Lord, what I should thinke
 
    Polon. Marry Ile teach you; thinke your selfe a Baby,
 That you haue tane his tenders for true pay,
 Which are not starling. Tender your selfe more dearly;
 Or not to crack the winde of the poore Phrase,
 Roaming it thus, you'l tender me a foole
 
    Ophe. My Lord, he hath importun'd me with loue,
 In honourable fashion
 
    Polon. I, fashion you may call it, go too, go too
 
    Ophe. And hath giuen countenance to his speech,
 My Lord, with all the vowes of Heauen
 
    Polon. I, Springes to catch Woodcocks. I doe know
 When the Bloud burnes, how Prodigall the Soule
 Giues the tongue vowes: these blazes, Daughter,
 Giuing more light then heate; extinct in both,
 Euen in their promise, as it is a making;
 You must not take for fire. For this time Daughter,
 Be somewhat scanter of your Maiden presence;
 Set your entreatments at a higher rate,
 Then a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,
 Beleeue so much in him, that he is young,
 And with a larger tether may he walke,
 Then may be giuen you. In few, Ophelia,
 Doe not beleeue his vowes; for they are Broakers,
 Not of the eye, which their Inuestments show:
 But meere implorators of vnholy Sutes,
 Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds,
 The better to beguile. This is for all:
 I would not, in plaine tearmes, from this time forth,
 Haue you so slander any moment leisure,
 As to giue words or talke with the Lord Hamlet:
 Looke too't, I charge you; come your wayes
 
    Ophe. I shall obey my Lord.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus.
 
   Ham. The Ayre bites shrewdly: is it very cold?
   Hor. It is a nipping and an eager ayre
 
    Ham. What hower now?
   Hor. I thinke it lacks of twelue
 
    Mar. No, it is strooke
 
    Hor. Indeed I heard it not: then it drawes neere the season,
 Wherein the Spirit held his wont to walke.
 What does this meane my Lord?
   Ham. The King doth wake to night, and takes his rouse,
 Keepes wassels and the swaggering vpspring reeles,
 And as he dreines his draughts of Renish downe,
 The kettle Drum and Trumpet thus bray out
 The triumph of his Pledge
 
    Horat. Is it a custome?
   Ham. I marry ist;
 And to my mind, though I am natiue heere,
 And to the manner borne: It is a Custome
 More honour'd in the breach, then the obseruance.
 Enter Ghost.
 
   Hor. Looke my Lord, it comes
 
    Ham. Angels and Ministers of Grace defend vs:
 Be thou a Spirit of health, or Goblin damn'd,
 Bring with thee ayres from Heauen, or blasts from Hell,
 Be thy euents wicked or charitable,
 Thou com'st in such a questionable shape
 That I will speake to thee. Ile call thee Hamlet,
 King, Father, Royall Dane: Oh, oh, answer me,
 Let me not burst in Ignorance; but tell
 Why thy Canoniz'd bones Hearsed in death,
 Haue burst their cerments, why the Sepulcher
 Wherein we saw thee quietly enurn'd,
 Hath op'd his ponderous and Marble iawes,
 To cast thee vp againe? What may this meane?
 That thou dead Coarse againe in compleat steele,
 Reuisits thus the glimpses of the Moone,
 Making Night hidious? And we fooles of Nature,
 So horridly to shake our disposition,
 With thoughts beyond thee; reaches of our Soules,
 Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we doe?
 
 Ghost beckens Hamlet.
 
   Hor. It beckons you to goe away with it,
 As if it some impartment did desire
 To you alone
 
    Mar. Looke with what courteous action
 It wafts you to a more remoued ground:
 But doe not goe with it
 
    Hor. No, by no meanes
 
    Ham. It will not speake: then will I follow it
 
    Hor. Doe not my Lord
 
    Ham. Why, what should be the feare?
 I doe not set my life at a pins fee;
 And for my Soule, what can it doe to that?
 Being a thing immortall as it selfe:
 It waues me forth againe; Ile follow it
 
    Hor. What if it tempt you toward the Floud my Lord?
 Or to the dreadfull Sonnet of the Cliffe,
 That beetles o're his base into the Sea,
 And there assumes some other horrible forme,
 Which might depriue your Soueraignty of Reason,
 And draw you into madnesse thinke of it?
   Ham. It wafts me still: goe on, Ile follow thee
 
    Mar. You shall not goe my Lord
 
    Ham. Hold off your hand
 
    Hor. Be rul'd, you shall not goe
 
    Ham. My fate cries out,
 And makes each petty Artire in this body,
 As hardy as the Nemian Lions nerue:
 Still am I cal'd? Vnhand me Gentlemen:
 By Heau'n, Ile make a Ghost of him that lets me:
 I say away, goe on, Ile follow thee.
 
 Exeunt. Ghost & Hamlet.
 
   Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination
 
    Mar. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him
 
    Hor. Haue after, to what issue will this come?
   Mar. Something is rotten in the State of Denmarke
 
    Hor. Heauen will direct it
 
    Mar. Nay, let's follow him.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter Ghost and Hamlet.
 
   Ham. Where wilt thou lead me? speak; Ile go no further
 
    Gho. Marke me
 
    Ham. I will
 
    Gho. My hower is almost come,
 When I to sulphurous and tormenting Flames
 Must render vp my selfe
 
    Ham. Alas poore Ghost
 
    Gho. Pitty me not, but lend thy serious hearing
 To what I shall vnfold
 
    Ham. Speake, I am bound to heare
 
    Gho. So art thou to reuenge, when thou shalt heare
 
    Ham. What?
   Gho. I am thy Fathers Spirit,
 Doom'd for a certaine terme to walke the night;
 And for the day confin'd to fast in Fiers,
 Till the foule crimes done in my dayes 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 vnfold, whose lightest word
 Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy young blood,
 Make thy two eyes like Starres, start from their Spheres,
 Thy knotty and combined lockes to part,
 And each particular haire to stand an end,
 Like Quilles vpon the fretfull Porpentine:
 But this eternall blason must not be
 To eares of flesh and bloud; list Hamlet, oh list,
 If thou didst euer thy deare Father loue
 
    Ham. Oh Heauen!
   Gho. Reuenge his foule and most vnnaturall Murther
 
    Ham. Murther?
   Ghost. Murther most foule, as in the best it is;
 But this most foule, strange, and vnnaturall
 
    Ham. Hast, hast me to know it,
 That with wings as swift
 As meditation, or the thoughts of Loue,
 May sweepe to my Reuenge
 
    Ghost. I finde thee apt,
 And duller should'st thou be then the fat weede
 That rots it selfe in ease, on Lethe Wharfe,
 Would'st thou not stirre in this. Now Hamlet heare:
 It's giuen out, that sleeping in mine Orchard,
 A Serpent stung me: so the whole eare of Denmarke,
 Is by a forged processe of my death
 Rankly abus'd: But know thou Noble youth,
 The Serpent that did sting thy Fathers life,
 Now weares his Crowne
 
    Ham. O my Propheticke soule: mine Vncle?
   Ghost. I that incestuous, that adulterate Beast
 With witchcraft of his wits, hath Traitorous guifts.
 Oh wicked Wit, and Gifts, that haue the power
 So to seduce? Won to this shamefull Lust
 The will of my most seeming vertuous Queene:
 Oh Hamlet, what a falling off was there,
 From me, whose loue was of that dignity,
 That it went hand in hand, euen with the Vow
 I made to her in Marriage; and to decline
 Vpon a wretch, whose Naturall gifts were poore
 To those of mine. But Vertue, as it neuer wil be moued,
 Though Lewdnesse court it in a shape of Heauen:
 So Lust, though to a radiant Angell link'd,
 Will sate it selfe in a Celestiall bed, & prey on Garbage.
 But soft, me thinkes I sent the Mornings Ayre;
 Briefe let me be: Sleeping within mine Orchard,
 My custome alwayes in the afternoone;
 Vpon my secure hower thy Vncle stole
 With iuyce of cursed Hebenon in a Violl,
 And in the Porches of mine eares did poure
 The leaperous Distilment; whose effect
 Holds such an enmity with bloud of Man,
 That swift as Quick-siluer, it courses through
 The naturall Gates and Allies of the body;
 And with a sodaine vigour it doth posset
 And curd, like Aygre droppings into Milke,
 The thin and wholsome blood: so did it mine;
 And a most instant Tetter bak'd about,
 Most Lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust,
 All my smooth Body.
 Thus was I, sleeping, by a Brothers hand,
 Of Life, of Crowne, and Queene at once dispatcht;
 Cut off euen in the Blossomes of my Sinne,
 Vnhouzzled, disappointed, vnnaneld,
 No reckoning made, but sent to my account
 With all my imperfections on my head;
 Oh horrible Oh horrible, most horrible:
 If thou hast nature in thee beare it not;
 Let not the Royall Bed of Denmarke be
 A Couch for Luxury and damned Incest.
 But howsoeuer thou pursuest this Act,
 Taint not thy mind; nor let thy Soule contriue
 Against thy Mother ought; leaue her to heauen,
 And to those Thornes that in her bosome lodge,
 To pricke and sting her. Fare thee well at once;
 The Glow-worme showes the Matine to be neere,
 And gins to pale his vneffectuall Fire:
 Adue, adue, Hamlet: remember me.
 Enter.
 
   Ham. Oh all you host of Heauen! Oh Earth; what els?
 And shall I couple Hell? Oh fie: hold my heart;
 And you my sinnewes, grow not instant Old;
 But beare me stiffely vp: Remember thee?
 I, thou poore Ghost, while memory holds a seate
 In this distracted Globe: Remember thee?
 Yea, from the Table of my Memory,
 Ile wipe away all triuiall fond Records,
 All sawes of Bookes, all formes, all presures past,
 That youth and obseruation coppied there;
 And thy Commandment all alone shall liue
 Within the Booke and Volume of my Braine,
 Vnmixt with baser matter; yes yes, by Heauen:
 Oh most pernicious woman!
 Oh Villaine, Villaine, smiling damned Villaine!
 My Tables, my Tables; meet it is I set it downe,
 That one may smile, and smile and be a Villaine;
 At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmarke;
 So Vnckle there you are: now to my word;
 It is; Adue, Adue, Remember me: I haue sworn't
 
    Hor. & Mar. within. My Lord, my Lord.
 Enter Horatio and Marcellus.
 
   Mar. Lord Hamlet
 
    Hor. Heauen secure him
 
    Mar. So be it
 
    Hor. Illo, ho, ho, my Lord
 
    Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy; come bird, come
 
    Mar. How ist my Noble Lord?
   Hor. What newes, my Lord?
   Ham. Oh wonderfull!
   Hor. Good my Lord tell it
 
    Ham. No you'l reueale it
 
    Hor. Not I, my Lord, by Heauen
 
    Mar. Nor I, my Lord
 
    Ham. How say you then, would heart of man once think it?
 But you'l be secret?
   Both. I, by Heau'n, my Lord
 
    Ham. There's nere a villaine dwelling in all Denmarke
 But hee's an arrant knaue
 
    Hor. There needs no Ghost my Lord, come from the
 Graue, to tell vs this
 
    Ham. Why right, you are i'th' right;
 And so, without more circumstance at all,
 I hold it fit that we shake hands, and part:
 You, as your busines and desires shall point you:
 For euery man ha's businesse and desire,
 Such as it is: and for mine owne poore part,
 Looke you, Ile goe pray
 
    Hor. These are but wild and hurling words, my Lord
 
    Ham. I'm sorry they offend you heartily:
 Yes faith, heartily
 
    Hor. There's no offence my Lord
 
    Ham. Yes, by Saint Patricke, but there is my Lord,
 And much offence too, touching this Vision heere:
 It is an honest Ghost, that let me tell you:
 For your desire to know what is betweene vs,
 O'remaster't as you may. And now good friends,
 As you are Friends, Schollers and Soldiers,
 Giue me one poore request
 
    Hor. What is't my Lord? we will
 
    Ham. Neuer make known what you haue seen to night
 
    Both. My Lord, we will not
 
    Ham. Nay, but swear't
 
    Hor. Infaith my Lord, not I
 
    Mar. Nor I my Lord: in faith
 
    Ham. Vpon my sword
 
    Marcell. We haue sworne my Lord already
 
    Ham. Indeed, vpon my sword, Indeed
 
    Gho. Sweare.
 
 Ghost cries vnder the Stage.
 
   Ham. Ah ha boy, sayest thou so. Art thou there truepenny?
 Come one you here this fellow in the selleredge
 Consent to sweare
 
    Hor. Propose the Oath my Lord
 
    Ham. Neuer to speake of this that you haue seene.
 Sweare by my sword
 
    Gho. Sweare
 
    Ham. Hic & vbique? Then wee'l shift for grownd,
 Come hither Gentlemen,
 And lay your hands againe vpon my sword,
 Neuer to speake of this that you haue heard:
 Sweare by my Sword
 
    Gho. Sweare
 
    Ham. Well said old Mole, can'st worke i'th' ground so fast?
 A worthy Pioner, once more remoue good friends
 
    Hor. Oh day and night: but this is wondrous strange
 
    Ham. And therefore as a stranger giue it welcome.
 There are more things in Heauen and Earth, Horatio,
 Then are dream't of in our Philosophy. But come,
 Here as before, neuer so helpe you mercy,
 How strange or odde so ere I beare my selfe;
 (As I perchance heereafter shall thinke meet
 To put an Anticke disposition on:)
 That you at such time seeing me, neuer shall
 With Armes encombred thus, or thus, head shake;
 Or by pronouncing of some doubtfull Phrase;
 As well, we know, or we could and if we would,
 Or if we list to speake; or there be and if there might,
 Or such ambiguous giuing out to note,
 That you know ought of me; this not to doe:
 So grace and mercy at your most neede helpe you:
 Sweare
 
    Ghost. Sweare
 
    Ham. Rest, rest perturbed Spirit: so Gentlemen,
 With all my loue I doe commend me to you;
 And what so poore a man as Hamlet is,
 May doe t' expresse his loue and friending to you,
 God willing shall not lacke: let vs goe in together,
 And still your fingers on your lippes I pray,
 The time is out of ioynt: Oh cursed spight,
 That euer I was borne to set it right.
 Nay, come let's goe together.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 
 Actus Secundus.
 
 Enter Polonius, and Reynoldo.
 
   Polon. Giue him his money, and these notes Reynoldo
 
    Reynol. I will my Lord
 
    Polon. You shall doe maruels wisely: good Reynoldo,
 Before you visite him you make inquiry
 Of his behauiour
 
    Reynol. My Lord, I did intend it
 
    Polon. Marry, well said;
 Very well said. Looke you Sir,
 Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris;
 And how, and who; what meanes; and where they keepe:
 What company, at what expence: and finding
 By this encompassement and drift of question,
 That they doe know my sonne: Come you more neerer
 Then your particular demands will touch it,
 Take you as 'twere some distant knowledge of him,
 And thus I know his father and his friends,
 And in part him. Doe you marke this Reynoldo?
   Reynol. I, very well my Lord
 
    Polon. And in part him, but you may say not well;
 But if't be hee I meane, hees very wilde;
 Addicted so and so; and there put on him
 What forgeries you please; marry, none so ranke,
 As may dishonour him; take heed of that:
 But Sir, such wanton, wild, and vsuall slips,
 As are Companions noted and most knowne
 To youth and liberty
 
    Reynol. As gaming my Lord
 
    Polon. I, or drinking, fencing, swearing,
 Quarelling, drabbing. You may goe so farre
 
    Reynol. My Lord that would dishonour him
 
    Polon. Faith no, as you may season it in the charge;
 You must not put another scandall on him,
 That hee is open to Incontinencie;
 That's not my meaning: but breath his faults so quaintly,
 That they may seeme the taints of liberty;
 The flash and out-breake of a fiery minde,
 A sauagenes in vnreclaim'd bloud of generall assault
 
    Reynol. But my good Lord
 
    Polon. Wherefore should you doe this?
   Reynol. I my Lord, I would know that
 
    Polon. Marry Sir, heere's my drift,
 And I belieue it is a fetch of warrant:
 You laying these slight sulleyes on my Sonne,
 As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i'th' working:
 Marke you your party in conuerse; him you would sound,
 Hauing euer seene. In the prenominate crimes,
 The youth you breath of guilty, be assur'd
 He closes with you in this consequence:
 Good sir, or so, or friend, or Gentleman.
 According to the Phrase and the Addition,
 Of man and Country
 
    Reynol. Very good my Lord
 
    Polon. And then Sir does he this?
 He does: what was I about to say?
 I was about say somthing: where did I leaue?
   Reynol. At closes in the consequence:
 At friend, or so, and Gentleman
 
    Polon. At closes in the consequence, I marry,
 He closes with you thus. I know the Gentleman,
 I saw him yesterday, or tother day;
 Or then or then, with such and such; and as you say,
 There was he gaming, there o'retooke in's Rouse,
 There falling out at Tennis; or perchance,
 I saw him enter such a house of saile;
 Videlicet, a Brothell, or so forth. See you now;
 Your bait of falshood, takes this Cape of truth;
 And thus doe we of wisedome and of reach
 With windlesses, and with assaies of Bias,
 By indirections finde directions out:
 So by my former Lecture and aduice
 Shall you my Sonne; you haue me, haue you not?
   Reynol. My Lord I haue
 
    Polon. God buy you; fare you well
 
    Reynol. Good my Lord
 
    Polon. Obserue his inclination in your selfe
 
    Reynol. I shall my Lord
 
    Polon. And let him plye his Musicke
 
    Reynol. Well, my Lord.
 Enter.
 
 Enter Ophelia.
 
   Polon. Farewell:
 How now Ophelia, what's the matter?
   Ophe. Alas my Lord, I haue beene so affrighted
 
    Polon. With what, in the name of Heauen?
   Ophe. My Lord, as I was sowing in my Chamber,
 Lord Hamlet with his doublet all vnbrac'd,
 No hat vpon his head, his stockings foul'd,
 Vngartred, and downe giued to his Anckle,
 Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other,
 And with a looke so pitious in purport,
 As if he had been loosed out of hell,
 To speake of horrors: he comes before me
 
    Polon. Mad for thy Loue?
   Ophe. My Lord, I doe not know: but truly I do feare it
 
    Polon. What said he?
   Ophe. He tooke me by the wrist, and held me hard;
 Then goes he to the length of all his arme;
 And with his other hand thus o're his brow,
 He fals to such perusall of my face,
 As he would draw it. Long staid he so,
 At last, a little shaking of mine Arme:
 And thrice his head thus wauing vp and downe;
 He rais'd a sigh, so pittious and profound,
 That it did seeme to shatter all his bulke,
 And end his being. That done, he lets me goe,
 And with his head ouer his shoulders turn'd,
 He seem'd to finde his way without his eyes,
 For out adores he went without their helpe;
 And to the last, bended their light on me
 
    Polon. Goe with me, I will goe seeke the King,
 This is the very extasie of Loue,
 Whose violent property foredoes it selfe,
 And leads the will to desperate Vndertakings,
 As oft as any passion vnder Heauen,
 That does afflict our Natures. I am sorrie,
 What haue you giuen him any hard words of late?
   Ophe. No my good Lord: but as you did command,
 I did repell his Letters, and deny'de
 His accesse to me
 
    Pol. That hath made him mad.
 I am sorrie that with better speed and iudgement
 I had not quoted him. I feare he did but trifle,
 And meant to wracke thee: but beshrew my iealousie:
 It seemes it is as proper to our Age,
 To cast beyond our selues in our Opinions,
 As it is common for the yonger sort
 To lacke discretion. Come, go we to the King,
 This must be knowne, being kept close might moue
 More greefe to hide, then hate to vtter loue.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 
 Scena Secunda.
 
 Enter King, Queene, Rosincrane, and Guildensterne Cum alijs.
 
   King. Welcome deere Rosincrance and Guildensterne.
 Moreouer, that we much did long to see you,
 The neede we haue to vse you, did prouoke
 Our hastie sending. Something haue you heard
 Of Hamlets transformation: so I call it,
 Since not th' exterior, nor the inward man
 Resembles that it was. What it should bee
 More then his Fathers death, that thus hath put him
 So much from th' vnderstanding of himselfe,
 I cannot deeme of. I intreat you both,
 That being of so young dayes brought vp with him:
 And since so Neighbour'd to his youth, and humour,
 That you vouchsafe your rest heere in our Court
 Some little time: so by your Companies
 To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather
 So much as from Occasions you may gleane,
 That open'd lies within our remedie
 
    Qu. Good Gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you,
 And sure I am, two men there are not liuing,
 To whom he more adheres. If it will please you
 To shew vs so much Gentrie, and good will,
 As to expend your time with vs a-while,
 For the supply and profit of our Hope,
 Your Visitation shall receiue such thankes
 As fits a Kings remembrance
 
    Rosin. Both your Maiesties
 Might by the Soueraigne power you haue of vs,
 Put your dread pleasures, more into Command
 Then to Entreatie
 
    Guil. We both obey,
 And here giue vp our selues, in the full bent,
 To lay our Seruices freely at your feete,
 To be commanded
 
    King. Thankes Rosincrance, and gentle Guildensterne
 
    Qu. Thankes Guildensterne and gentle Rosincrance.
 And I beseech you instantly to visit
 My too much changed Sonne.
 Go some of ye,
 And bring the Gentlemen where Hamlet is
 
    Guil. Heauens make our presence and our practises
 Pleasant and helpfull to him.
 Enter.
 
   Queene. Amen.
 Enter Polonius.
 
   Pol. Th' Ambassadors from Norwey, my good Lord,
 Are ioyfully return'd
 
    King. Thou still hast bin the father of good Newes
 
    Pol. Haue I, my Lord? Assure you, my good Liege,
 I hold my dutie, as I hold my Soule,
 Both to my God, one to my gracious King:
 And I do thinke, or else this braine of mine
 Hunts not the traile of Policie, so sure
 As I haue vs'd to do: that I haue found
 The very cause of Hamlets Lunacie
 
    King. Oh speake of that, that I do long to heare
 
    Pol. Giue first admittance to th' Ambassadors,
 My Newes shall be the Newes to that great Feast
 
    King. Thy selfe do grace to them, and bring them in.
 He tels me my sweet Queene, that he hath found
 The head and sourse of all your Sonnes distemper
 
    Qu. I doubt it is no other, but the maine,
 His Fathers death, and our o're-hasty Marriage.
 Enter Polonius, Voltumand, and Cornelius.
 
   King. Well, we shall sift him. Welcome good Frends:
 Say Voltumand, what from our Brother Norwey?
   Volt. Most faire returne of Greetings, and Desires.
 Vpon our first, he sent out to suppresse
 His Nephewes Leuies, which to him appear'd
 To be a preparation 'gainst the Poleak:
 But better look'd into, he truly found
 It was against your Highnesse, whereat greeued,
 That so his Sicknesse, Age, and Impotence
 Was falsely borne in hand, sends out Arrests
 On Fortinbras, which he (in breefe) obeyes,
 Receiues rebuke from Norwey: and in fine,
 Makes Vow before his Vnkle, neuer more
 To giue th' assay of Armes against your Maiestie.
 Whereon old Norwey, ouercome with ioy,
 Giues him three thousand Crownes in Annuall Fee,
 And his Commission to imploy those Soldiers
 So leuied as before, against the Poleak:
 With an intreaty heerein further shewne,
 That it might please you to giue quiet passe
 Through your Dominions, for his Enterprize,
 On such regards of safety and allowance,
 As therein are set downe
 
    King. It likes vs well:
 And at our more consider'd time wee'l read,
 Answer, and thinke vpon this Businesse.
 Meane time we thanke you, for your well-tooke Labour.
 Go to your rest, at night wee'l Feast together.
 Most welcome home.
 
 Exit Ambass.
 
   Pol. This businesse is very well ended.
 My Liege, and Madam, to expostulate
 What Maiestie should be, what Dutie is,
 Why day is day; night, night; and time is time,
 Were nothing but to waste Night, Day, and Time.
 Therefore, since Breuitie is the Soule of Wit,
 And tediousnesse, the limbes and outward flourishes,
 I will be breefe. Your Noble Sonne is mad:
 Mad call I it; for to define true Madnesse,
 What is't, but to be nothing else but mad.
 But let that go
 
    Qu. More matter, with lesse Art
 
    Pol. Madam, I sweare I vse no Art at all:
 That he is mad, 'tis true: 'Tis true 'tis pittie,
 And pittie it is true: A foolish figure,
 But farewell it: for I will vse no Art.
 Mad let vs grant him then: and now remaines
 That we finde out the cause of this effect,
 Or rather say, the cause of this defect;
 For this effect defectiue, comes by cause,
 Thus it remaines, and the remainder thus. Perpend,
 I haue a daughter: haue, whil'st she is mine,
 Who in her Dutie and Obedience, marke,
 Hath giuen me this: now gather, and surmise.
 
 The Letter.
 
 To the Celestiall, and my Soules Idoll, the most beautifed Ophelia.
 That's an ill Phrase, a vilde Phrase, beautified is a vilde
 Phrase: but you shall heare these in her excellent white
 bosome, these
 
    Qu. Came this from Hamlet to her
 
    Pol. Good Madam stay awhile, I will be faithfull.
 Doubt thou, the Starres are fire,
 Doubt, that the Sunne doth moue:
 Doubt Truth to be a Lier,
 But neuer Doubt, I loue.
 O deere Ophelia, I am ill at these Numbers: I haue not Art to
 reckon my grones; but that I loue thee best, oh most Best beleeue
 it. Adieu.
 Thine euermore most deere Lady, whilst this
 Machine is to him, Hamlet.
 This in Obedience hath my daughter shew'd me:
 And more aboue hath his soliciting,
 As they fell out by Time, by Meanes, and Place,
 All giuen to mine eare
 
    King. But how hath she receiu'd his Loue?
   Pol. What do you thinke of me?
   King. As of a man, faithfull and Honourable
 
    Pol. I wold faine proue so. But what might you think?
 When I had seene this hot loue on the wing,
 As I perceiued it, I must tell you that
 Before my Daughter told me what might you
 Or my deere Maiestie your Queene heere, think,
 If I had playd the Deske or Table-booke,
 Or giuen my heart a winking, mute and dumbe,
 Or look'd vpon this Loue, with idle sight,
 What might you thinke? No, I went round to worke,
 And (my yong Mistris) thus I did bespeake
 Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy Starre,
 This must not be: and then, I Precepts gaue her,
 That she should locke her selfe from his Resort,
 Admit no Messengers, receiue no Tokens:
 Which done, she tooke the Fruites of my Aduice,
 And he repulsed. A short Tale to make,
 Fell into a Sadnesse, then into a Fast,
 Thence to a Watch, thence into a Weaknesse,
 Thence to a Lightnesse, and by this declension
 Into the Madnesse whereon now he raues,
 And all we waile for
 
    King. Do you thinke 'tis this?
   Qu. It may be very likely
 
    Pol. Hath there bene such a time, I'de fain know that,
 That I haue possitiuely said, 'tis so,
 When it prou'd otherwise?
   King. Not that I know
 
    Pol. Take this from this; if this be otherwise,
 If Circumstances leade me, I will finde
 Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeede
 Within the Center
 
    King. How may we try it further?
   Pol. You know sometimes
 He walkes foure houres together, heere
 In the Lobby
 
    Qu. So he ha's indeed
 
    Pol. At such a time Ile loose my Daughter to him,
 Be you and I behinde an Arras then,
 Marke the encounter: If he loue her not,
 And be not from his reason falne thereon;
 Let me be no Assistant for a State,
 And keepe a Farme and Carters
 
    King. We will try it.
 Enter Hamlet reading on a Booke.
 
   Qu. But looke where sadly the poore wretch
 Comes reading
 
    Pol. Away I do beseech you, both away,
 Ile boord him presently.
 
 Exit King & Queen.
 
 Oh giue me leaue. How does my good Lord Hamlet?
   Ham. Well, God-a-mercy
 
    Pol. Do you know me, my Lord?
   Ham. Excellent, excellent well: y'are a Fishmonger
 
    Pol. Not I my Lord
 
    Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man
 
    Pol. Honest, my Lord?
   Ham. I sir, to be honest as this world goes, is to bee
 one man pick'd out of two thousand
 
    Pol. That's very true, my Lord
 
    Ham. For if the Sun breed Magots in a dead dogge,
 being a good kissing Carrion-
 Haue you a daughter?
   Pol. I haue my Lord
 
    Ham. Let her not walke i'thSunne: Conception is a
 blessing, but not as your daughter may conceiue. Friend
 looke too't
 
    Pol. 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 farre gone, farre gone: and truly in my youth,
 I suffred much extreamity for loue: very neere this. Ile
 speake to him againe. What do you read my Lord?
   Ham. Words, words, words
 
    Pol. What is the matter, my Lord?
   Ham. Betweene who?
   Pol. I meane the matter you meane, my Lord
 
    Ham. Slanders Sir: for the Satyricall slaue saies here,
 that old men haue gray Beards; that their faces are wrinkled;
 their eyes purging thicke Amber, or Plum-Tree
 Gumme: and that they haue a plentifull locke of Wit,
 together with weake Hammes. All which Sir, though I
 most powerfully, and potently beleeue; yet I holde it
 not Honestie to haue it thus set downe: For you your
 selfe Sir, should be old as I am, if like a Crab you could
 go backward
 
    Pol. Though this be madnesse,
 Yet there is Method in't: will you walke
 Out of the ayre my Lord?
   Ham. Into my Graue?
   Pol. Indeed that is out o'th' Ayre:
 How pregnant (sometimes) his Replies are?
 A happinesse,
 That often Madnesse hits on,
 Which Reason and Sanitie could not
 So prosperously be deliuer'd of.
 I will leaue him,
 And sodainely contriue the meanes of meeting
 Betweene him, and my daughter.
 My Honourable Lord, I will most humbly
 Take my leaue of you
 
    Ham. You cannot Sir take from me any thing, that I
 will more willingly part withall, except my life, my
 life
 
    Polon. Fare you well my Lord
 
    Ham. These tedious old fooles
 
    Polon. You goe to seeke my Lord Hamlet; there
 hee is.
 Enter Rosincran and Guildensterne.
 
   Rosin. God saue you Sir
 
    Guild. Mine honour'd Lord?
   Rosin. My most deare Lord?
   Ham. My excellent good friends? How do'st thou
 Guildensterne? Oh, Rosincrane; good Lads: How doe ye
 both?
   Rosin. As the indifferent Children of the earth
 
    Guild. Happy, in that we are not ouer-happy: on Fortunes
 Cap, we are not the very Button
 
    Ham. Nor the Soales of her Shoo?
   Rosin. Neither my Lord
 
    Ham. Then you liue about her waste, or in the middle
 of her fauour?
   Guil. Faith, her priuates, we
 
    Ham. In the secret parts of Fortune? Oh, most true:
 she is a Strumpet. What's the newes?
   Rosin. None my Lord; but that the World's growne
 honest
 
    Ham. Then is Doomesday neere: But your newes is
 not true. Let me question more in particular: what haue
 you my good friends, deserued at the hands of Fortune,
 that she sends you to Prison hither?
   Guil. Prison, my Lord?
   Ham. Denmark's a Prison
 
    Rosin. Then is the World one
 
    Ham. A goodly one, in which there are many Confines,
 Wards, and Dungeons; Denmarke being one o'th'
 worst
 
    Rosin. We thinke 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
 
    Rosin. Why then your Ambition makes it one: 'tis
 too narrow for your minde
 
    Ham. O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and
 count my selfe a King of infinite space; were it not that
 I haue bad dreames
 
    Guil. Which dreames indeed are Ambition: for the
 very substance of the Ambitious, is meerely the shadow
 of a Dreame
 
    Ham. A dreame it selfe is but a shadow
 
    Rosin. Truely, and I hold Ambition of so ayry and
 light a quality, that it is but a shadowes shadow
 
    Ham. Then are our Beggers bodies; and our Monarchs
 and out-stretcht Heroes the Beggers Shadowes:
 shall wee to th' Court: for, by my fey I cannot reason?
   Both. Wee'l wait vpon you
 
    Ham. No such matter. I will not sort you with the
 rest of my seruants: for to speake to you like an honest
 man: I am most dreadfully attended; but in the beaten
 way of friendship, What make you at Elsonower?
   Rosin. To visit you my Lord, no other occasion
 
    Ham. Begger that I am, I am euen poore in thankes;
 but I thanke you: and sure deare friends my thanks
 are too deare a halfepeny; were you not sent for? Is it
 your owne inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come,
 deale iustly with me: come, come; nay speake
 
    Guil. What should we say my Lord?
   Ham. Why any thing. But to the purpose; you were
 sent for; and there is a kinde confession in your lookes;
 which your modesties haue not craft enough to color,
 I know the good King & Queene haue sent for you
 
    Rosin. To what end my Lord?
   Ham. That you must teach me: but let mee coniure
 you by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of
 our youth, by the Obligation of our euer-preserued loue,
 and by what more deare, a better proposer could charge
 you withall; be euen and direct with me, whether you
 were sent for or no
 
    Rosin. What say you?
   Ham. Nay then I haue an eye of you: if you loue me
 hold not off
 
    Guil. My Lord, we were sent for
 
    Ham. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation
 preuent your discouery of your secricie to the King and
 Queene: moult no feather, I haue of late, but wherefore
 I know not, lost all my mirth, forgone all custome of exercise;
 and indeed, it goes so heauenly with my disposition;
 that this goodly frame the Earth, seemes to me a sterrill
 Promontory; this most excellent Canopy the Ayre,
 look you, this braue ore-hanging, this Maiesticall Roofe,
 fretted with golden fire: why, it appeares no other thing
 to mee, then a foule and pestilent congregation of vapours.
 What a piece of worke is a man! how Noble in
 Reason? how infinite in faculty? in forme and mouing
 how expresse and admirable? in Action, how like an Angel?
 in apprehension, how like a God? the beauty of the
 world, the Parragon 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 seeme
 to say so
 
    Rosin. My Lord, there was no such stuffe in my
 thoughts
 
    Ham. Why did you laugh, when I said, Man delights
 not me?
   Rosin. To thinke, my Lord, if you delight not in Man,
 what Lenton entertainment the Players shall receiue
 from you: wee coated them on the way, and hither are
 they comming to offer you Seruice
 
    Ham. He that playes the King shall be welcome; his
 Maiesty shall haue Tribute of mee: the aduenturous
 Knight shal vse his Foyle and Target: the Louer shall
 not sigh gratis, the humorous man shall end his part in
 peace: the Clowne shall make those laugh whose lungs
 are tickled a'th' sere: and the Lady shall say her minde
 freely; or the blanke Verse shall halt for't: what Players
 are they?
   Rosin. Euen those you were wont to take delight in
 the Tragedians of the City
 
    Ham. How chances it they trauaile? their residence
 both in reputation and profit was better both
 wayes
 
    Rosin. I thinke their Inhibition comes by the meanes
 of the late Innouation?
   Ham. Doe they hold the same estimation they did
 when I was in the City? Are they so follow'd?
   Rosin. No indeed, they are not
 
    Ham. How comes it? doe they grow rusty?
   Rosin. Nay, their indeauour keepes in the wonted
 pace; But there is Sir an ayrie of Children, little
 Yases, that crye out on the top of question; and
 are most tyrannically clap't for't: these are now the
 fashion, and so be-ratled the common Stages (so they
 call them) that many wearing Rapiers, are affraide of
 Goose-quils, and dare scarse come thither
 
    Ham. What are they Children? Who maintains 'em?
 How are they escorted? Will they pursue the Quality no
 longer then they can sing? Will they not say afterwards
 if they should grow themselues to common Players (as
 it is most like if their meanes are not better) their Writers
 do them wrong, to make them exclaim against their
 owne Succession
 
    Rosin. Faith there ha's bene much to do on both sides:
 and the Nation holds it no sinne, to tarre them to Controuersie.
 There was for a while, no mony bid for argument,
 vnlesse the Poet and the Player went to Cuffes in
 the Question
 
    Ham. Is't possible?
   Guild. Oh there ha's beene much throwing about of
 Braines
 
    Ham. Do the Boyes carry it away?
   Rosin. I that they do my Lord. Hercules & his load too
 
    Ham. It is not strange: for mine Vnckle is King of
 Denmarke, and those that would make mowes at him
 while my Father liued; giue twenty, forty, an hundred
 Ducates a peece, for his picture in Little. There is something
 in this more then Naturall, if Philosophie could
 finde it out.
 
 Flourish for the Players.
 
   Guil. There are the Players
 
    Ham. Gentlemen, you are welcom to Elsonower: your
 hands, come: The appurtenance of Welcome, is Fashion
 and Ceremony. Let me comply with you in the Garbe,
 lest my extent to the Players (which I tell you must shew
 fairely outward) should more appeare like entertainment
 then yours. You are welcome: but my Vnckle Father,
 and Aunt Mother are deceiu'd
 
    Guil. In what my deere Lord?
   Ham. I am but mad North, North-West: when the
 Winde is Southerly, I know a Hawke from a Handsaw.
 Enter Polonius.
 
   Pol. Well be with you Gentlemen
 
    Ham. Hearke you Guildensterne, and you too: at each
 eare a hearer: that great Baby you see there, is not yet
 out of his swathing clouts
 
    Rosin. Happily he's the second time come to them: for
 they say, an old man is twice a childe
 
    Ham. I will Prophesie. Hee comes to tell me of the
 Players. Mark it, you say right Sir: for a Monday morning
 'twas so indeed
 
    Pol. My Lord, I haue Newes to tell you
 
    Ham. My Lord, I haue Newes to tell you.
 When Rossius an Actor in Rome-
   Pol. The Actors are come hither my Lord
 
    Ham. Buzze, buzze
 
    Pol. Vpon mine Honor
 
    Ham. Then can each Actor on his Asse-
   Polon. The best Actors in the world, either for Tragedie,
 Comedie, Historie, Pastorall:
 Pastoricall-Comicall-Historicall-Pastorall:
 Tragicall-Historicall: Tragicall-Comicall-Historicall-Pastorall:
 Scene indiuidible: or Poem
 vnlimited. Seneca cannot be too heauy, nor Plautus
 too light, for the law of Writ, and the Liberty. These are
 the onely men
 
    Ham. O Iephta Iudge of Israel, what a Treasure had'st
 thou?
   Pol. What a Treasure had he, my Lord?
   Ham. Why one faire Daughter, and no more,
 The which he loued passing well
 
    Pol. Still on my Daughter
 
    Ham. Am I not i'th' right old Iephta?
   Polon. If you call me Iephta my Lord, I haue a daughter
 that I loue passing well
 
    Ham. Nay that followes not
 
    Polon. What followes then, my Lord?
   Ha. Why, As by lot, God wot: and then you know, It
 came to passe, as most like it was: The first rowe of the
 Pons Chanson will shew you more. For looke where my
 Abridgements come.
 Enter foure or fiue Players.
 
 Y'are welcome Masters, welcome all. I am glad to see
 thee well: Welcome good Friends. Oh my olde Friend?
 Thy face is valiant since I saw thee last: Com'st thou to
 beard me in Denmarke? What, my yong Lady and Mistris?
 Byrlady your Ladiship is neerer Heauen then when
 I saw you last, by the altitude of a Choppine. Pray God
 your voice like a peece of vncurrant Gold be not crack'd
 within the ring. Masters, you are all welcome: wee'l e'ne
 to't like French Faulconers, flie at any thing we see: wee'l
 haue a Speech straight. Come giue vs a tast of your quality:
 come, a passionate speech
 
    1.Play. What speech, my Lord?
   Ham. I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was
 neuer Acted: or if it was, not aboue once, for the Play I
 remember pleas'd not the Million, 'twas Cauiarie to the
 Generall: but it was (as I receiu'd it, and others, whose
 iudgement in such matters, cried in the top of mine) an
 excellent Play; well digested in the Scoenes, set downe
 with as much modestie, as cunning. I remember one said,
 there was no Sallets in the lines, to make the matter sauory;
 nor no matter in the phrase, that might indite the
 Author of affectation, but cal'd it an honest method. One
 cheefe Speech in it, I cheefely lou'd, 'twas Aeneas Tale
 to Dido, and thereabout of it especially, where he speaks
 of Priams slaughter. If it liue in your memory, begin at
 this Line, let me see, let me see: The rugged Pyrrhus like
 th'Hyrcanian Beast. It is not so: it begins with Pyrrhus
 The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose Sable Armes
 Blacke as his purpose, did the night resemble
 When he lay couched in the Ominous Horse,
 Hath now this dread and blacke Complexion smear'd
 With Heraldry more dismall: Head to foote
 Now is he to take Geulles, horridly Trick'd
 With blood of Fathers, Mothers, Daughters, Sonnes,
 Bak'd and impasted with the parching streets,
 That lend a tyrannous, and damned light
 To their vilde Murthers, roasted in wrath and fire,
 And thus o're-sized with coagulate gore,
 With eyes like Carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus
 Olde Grandsire Priam seekes
 
    Pol. Fore God, my Lord, well spoken, with good accent,
 and good discretion
 
    1.Player. Anon he findes him,
 Striking too short at Greekes. His anticke Sword,
 Rebellious to his Arme, lyes where it falles
 Repugnant to command: vnequall match,
 Pyrrhus at Priam driues, in Rage strikes wide:
 But with the whiffe and winde of his fell Sword,
 Th' vnnerued Father fals. Then senselesse Illium,
 Seeming to feele his blow, with flaming top
 Stoopes to his Bace, and with a hideous crash
 Takes Prisoner Pyrrhus eare. For loe, his Sword
 Which was declining on the Milkie head
 Of Reuerend Priam, seem'd i'th' Ayre to sticke:
 So as a painted Tyrant Pyrrhus stood,
 And like a Newtrall to his will and matter, did nothing.
 But as we often see against some storme,
 A silence in the Heauens, the Racke stand still,
 The bold windes speechlesse, and the Orbe below
 As hush as death: Anon the dreadfull Thunder
 Doth rend the Region. So after Pyrrhus pause,
 A rowsed Vengeance sets him new a-worke,
 And neuer did the Cyclops hammers fall
 On Mars his Armours, forg'd for proofe Eterne,
 With lesse remorse then Pyrrhus bleeding sword
 Now falles on Priam.
 Out, out, thou Strumpet-Fortune, all you Gods,
 In generall Synod take away her power:
 Breake all the Spokes and Fallies from her wheele,
 And boule the round Naue downe the hill of Heauen,
 As low as to the Fiends
 
    Pol. This is too long
 
    Ham. It shall to'th Barbars, with your beard. Prythee
 say on: He's for a Iigge, or a tale of Baudry, or hee
 sleepes. Say on; come to Hecuba
 
    1.Play. But who, O who, had seen the inobled Queen
 
    Ham. The inobled Queene?
   Pol. That's good: Inobled Queene is good
 
    1.Play. Run bare-foot vp and downe,
 Threatning the flame
 With Bisson Rheume: A clout about that head,
 Where late the Diadem stood, and for a Robe
 About her lanke and all ore-teamed Loines,
 A blanket in th' Alarum of feare caught vp.
 Who this had seene, with tongue in Venome steep'd,
 'Gainst Fortunes State, would Treason haue pronounc'd?
 But if the Gods themselues did see her then,
 When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport
 In mincing with his Sword her Husbands limbes,
 The instant Burst of Clamour that she made
 (Vnlesse things mortall moue them not at all)
 Would haue made milche the Burning eyes of Heauen,
 And passion in the Gods
 
    Pol. Looke where he ha's not turn'd his colour, and
 ha's teares in's eyes. Pray you no more
 
    Ham. 'Tis well, Ile haue thee speake out the rest,
 soone. Good my Lord, will you see the Players wel bestow'd.
 Do ye heare, let them be well vs'd: for they are
 the Abstracts and breefe Chronicles of the time. After
 your death, you were better haue a bad Epitaph, then
 their ill report while you liued
 
    Pol. My Lord, I will vse them according to their desart
 
    Ham. Gods bodykins man, better. Vse euerie man
 after his desart, and who should scape whipping: vse
 them after your own Honor and Dignity. The lesse they
 deserue, the more merit is in your bountie. Take them
 in
 
    Pol. Come sirs.
 
 Exit Polon.
 
   Ham. Follow him Friends: wee'l heare a play to morrow.
 Dost thou heare me old Friend, can you play the
 murther of Gonzago?
   Play. I my Lord
 
    Ham. Wee'l ha't to morrow night. You could for a
 need study a speech of some dosen or sixteene lines, which
 I would set downe, and insert in't? Could ye not?
   Play. I my Lord
 
    Ham. Very well. Follow that Lord, and looke you
 mock him not. My good Friends, Ile leaue you til night
 you are welcome to Elsonower?
   Rosin. Good my Lord.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Manet Hamlet.
 
   Ham. I so, God buy'ye: Now I am alone.
 Oh what a Rogue and Pesant slaue am I?
 Is it not monstrous that this Player heere,
 But in a Fixion, in a dreame of Passion,
 Could force his soule so to his whole conceit,
 That from her working, all his visage warm'd;
 Teares in his eyes, distraction in's Aspect,
 A broken voyce, and his whole Function suiting
 With Formes, to his Conceit? And all for nothing?
 For Hecuba?
 What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
 That he should weepe for her? What would he doe,
 Had he the Motiue and the Cue for passion
 That I haue? He would drowne the Stage with teares,
 And cleaue the generall eare with horrid speech:
 Make mad the guilty, and apale the free,
 Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed,
 The very faculty of Eyes and Eares. Yet I,
 A dull and muddy-metled Rascall, peake
 Like Iohn a-dreames, vnpregnant of my cause,
 And can say nothing: No, not for a King,
 Vpon whose property, and most deere life,
 A damn'd defeate was made. Am I a Coward?
 Who calles me Villaine? breakes my pate a-crosse?
 Pluckes off my Beard, and blowes it in my face?
 Tweakes me by'th' Nose? giues me the Lye i'th' Throate,
 As deepe as to the Lungs? Who does me this?
 Ha? Why I should take it: for it cannot be,
 But I am Pigeon-Liuer'd, and lacke Gall
 To make Oppression bitter, or ere this,
 I should haue fatted all the Region Kites
 With this Slaues Offall, bloudy: a Bawdy villaine,
 Remorselesse, Treacherous, Letcherous, kindles villaine!
 Oh Vengeance!
 Who? What an Asse am I? I sure, this is most braue,
 That I, the Sonne of the Deere murthered,
 Prompted to my Reuenge by Heauen, and Hell,
 Must (like a Whore) vnpacke my heart with words,
 And fall a Cursing like a very Drab.
 A Scullion? Fye vpon't: Foh. About my Braine.
 I haue heard, that guilty Creatures sitting at a Play,
 Haue by the very cunning of the Scoene,
 Bene strooke so to the soule, that presently
 They haue proclaim'd their Malefactions.
 For Murther, though it haue no tongue, will speake
 With most myraculous Organ. Ile haue these Players,
 Play something like the murder of my Father,
 Before mine Vnkle. Ile obserue his lookes,
 Ile rent him to the quicke: If he but blench
 I know my course. The Spirit that I haue seene
 May be the Diuell, and the Diuel hath power
 T' assume a pleasing shape, yea and perhaps
 Out of my Weaknesse, and my Melancholly,
 As he is very potent with such Spirits,
 Abuses me to damne me. Ile haue grounds
 More Relatiue then this: The Play's the thing,
 Wherein Ile catch the Conscience of the King.
 
 Exit
 
 Enter King, Queene, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosincrance,
 Guildenstern, and
 Lords.
 
   King. And can you by no drift of circumstance
 Get from him why he puts on this Confusion:
 Grating so harshly all his dayes of quiet
 With turbulent and dangerous Lunacy
 
    Rosin. He does confesse he feeles himselfe distracted,
 But from what cause he will by no meanes speake
 
    Guil. Nor do we finde him forward to be sounded,
 But with a crafty Madnesse keepes aloofe:
 When we would bring him on to some Confession
 Of his true state
 
    Qu. Did he receiue you well?
   Rosin. Most like a Gentleman
 
    Guild. But with much forcing of his disposition
 
    Rosin. Niggard of question, but of our demands
 Most free in his reply
 
    Qu. Did you assay him to any pastime?
   Rosin. Madam, it so fell out, that certaine Players
 We ore-wrought on the way: of these we told him,
 And there did seeme in him a kinde of ioy
 To heare of it: They are about the Court,
 And (as I thinke) they haue already order
 This night to play before him
 
    Pol. 'Tis most true:
 And he beseech'd me to intreate your Maiesties
 To heare, and see the matter
 
    King. With all my heart, and it doth much content me
 To heare him so inclin'd. Good Gentlemen,
 Giue him a further edge, and driue his purpose on
 To these delights
 
    Rosin. We shall my Lord.
 
 Exeunt.
 
   King. Sweet Gertrude leaue vs too,
 For we haue closely sent for Hamlet hither,
 That he, as 'twere by accident, may there
 Affront Ophelia. Her Father, and my selfe (lawful espials)
 Will so bestow our selues, that seeing vnseene
 We may of their encounter frankely iudge,
 And gather by him, as he is behaued,
 If't be th' affliction of his loue, or no.
 That thus he suffers for
 
    Qu. I shall obey you,
 And for your part Ophelia, I do wish
 That your good Beauties be the happy cause
 Of Hamlets wildenesse: so shall I hope your Vertues
 Will bring him to his wonted way againe,
 To both your Honors
 
    Ophe. Madam, I wish it may
 
    Pol. Ophelia, walke you heere. Gracious so please ye
 We will bestow our selues: Reade on this booke,
 That shew of such an exercise may colour
 Your lonelinesse. We are oft too blame in this,
 'Tis too much prou'd, that with Deuotions visage,
 And pious Action, we do surge o're
 The diuell himselfe
 
    King. Oh 'tis true:
 How smart a lash that speech doth giue my Conscience?
 The Harlots Cheeke beautied with plaist'ring Art
 Is not more vgly to the thing that helpes it,
 Then is my deede, to my most painted word.
 Oh heauie burthen!
   Pol. I heare him comming, let's withdraw my Lord.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter Hamlet.
 
   Ham. To be, or not to be, that is the Question:
 Whether 'tis Nobler in the minde to suffer
 The Slings and Arrowes of outragious Fortune,
 Or to take Armes against a Sea of troubles,
 And by opposing end them: to dye, to sleepe
 No more; and by a sleepe, to say we end
 The Heart-ake, and the thousand Naturall shockes
 That Flesh is heyre too? 'Tis a consummation
 Deuoutly to be wish'd. To dye to sleepe,
 To sleepe, perchance to Dreame; I, there's the rub,
 For in that sleepe of death, what dreames may come,
 When we haue shuffel'd off this mortall coile,
 Must giue vs pawse. There's the respect
 That makes Calamity of so long life:
 For who would beare the Whips and Scornes of time,
 The Oppressors wrong, the poore mans Contumely,
 The pangs of dispriz'd Loue, the Lawes delay,
 The insolence of Office, and the Spurnes
 That patient merit of the vnworthy takes,
 When he himselfe might his Quietus make
 With a bare Bodkin? Who would these Fardles beare
 To grunt and sweat vnder a weary life,
 But that the dread of something after death,
 The vndiscouered Countrey, from whose Borne
 No Traueller returnes, Puzels the will,
 And makes vs rather beare those illes we haue,
 Then flye to others that we know not of.
 Thus Conscience does make Cowards of vs all,
 And thus the Natiue hew of Resolution
 Is sicklied o're, with the pale cast of Thought,
 And enterprizes of great pith and moment,
 With this regard their Currants turne away,
 And loose the name of Action. Soft you now,
 The faire Ophelia? Nimph, in thy Orizons
 Be all my sinnes remembred
 
    Ophe. Good my Lord,
 How does your Honor for this many a day?
   Ham. I humbly thanke you: well, well, well
 
    Ophe. My Lord, I haue Remembrances of yours,
 That I haue longed long to re-deliuer.
 I pray you now, receiue them
 
    Ham. No, no, I neuer gaue you ought
 
    Ophe. My honor'd Lord, I know right well you did,
 And with them words of so sweet breath compos'd,
 As made the things more rich, then perfume left:
 Take these againe, for to the Noble minde
 Rich gifts wax poore, when giuers proue vnkinde.
 There my Lord
 
    Ham. Ha, ha: Are you honest?
   Ophe. My Lord
 
    Ham. Are you faire?
   Ophe. What meanes your Lordship?
   Ham. That if you be honest and faire, your Honesty
 should admit no discourse to your Beautie
 
    Ophe. Could Beautie my Lord, haue better Comerce
 then your Honestie?
   Ham. I trulie: for the power of Beautie, will sooner
 transforme Honestie from what is, to a Bawd, then the
 force of Honestie can translate Beautie into his likenesse.
 This was sometime a Paradox, but now the time giues it
 proofe. I did loue you once
 
    Ophe. Indeed my Lord, you made me beleeue so
 
    Ham. You should not haue beleeued me. For vertue
 cannot so innocculate our old stocke, but we shall rellish
 of it. I loued you not
 
    Ophe. I was the more deceiued
 
    Ham. Get thee to a Nunnerie. Why would'st thou
 be a breeder of Sinners? I am my selfe indifferent honest,
 but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better
 my Mother had not borne me. I am very prowd, reuengefull,
 Ambitious, with more offences at my becke,
 then I haue thoughts to put them in imagination, to giue
 them shape, or time to acte them in. What should such
 Fellowes as I do, crawling betweene Heauen and Earth.
 We are arrant Knaues all, beleeue none of vs. Goe thy
 wayes to a Nunnery. Where's your Father?
   Ophe. At home, my Lord
 
    Ham. Let the doores be shut vpon him, that he may
 play the Foole no way, but in's owne house. Farewell
 
    Ophe. O helpe him, you sweet Heauens
 
    Ham. If thou doest Marry, Ile giue thee this Plague
 for thy Dowrie. Be thou as chast 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. Farwell
 
    Ophe. O heauenly Powers, restore him
 
    Ham. I haue heard of your pratlings too wel enough.
 God has giuen you one pace, and you make your selfe another:
 you gidge, you amble, and you lispe, and nickname
 Gods creatures, and make your Wantonnesse, your Ignorance.
 Go too, Ile no more on't, it hath made me mad.
 I say, we will haue no more Marriages. Those that are
 married already, all but one shall liue, the rest shall keep
 as they are. To a Nunnery, go.
 
 Exit Hamlet.
 
   Ophe. O what a Noble minde is heere o're-throwne?
 The Courtiers, Soldiers, Schollers: Eye, tongue, sword,
 Th' expectansie and Rose of the faire State,
 The glasse of Fashion, and the mould of Forme,
 Th' obseru'd of all Obseruers, quite, quite downe.
 Haue I of Ladies most deiect and wretched,
 That suck'd the Honie of his Musicke Vowes:
 Now see that Noble, and most Soueraigne Reason,
 Like sweet Bels iangled out of tune, and harsh,
 That vnmatch'd Forme and Feature of blowne youth,
 Blasted with extasie. Oh woe is me,
 T'haue seene what I haue seene: see what I see.
 Enter King, and Polonius.
 
   King. Loue? His affections do not that way tend,
 Nor what he spake, though it lack'd Forme a little,
 Was not like Madnesse. There's something in his soule?
 O're which his Melancholly sits on brood,
 And I do doubt the hatch, and the disclose
 Will be some danger, which to preuent
 I haue in quicke determination
 Thus set it downe. He shall with speed to England
 For the demand of our neglected Tribute:
 Haply the Seas and Countries different
 With variable Obiects, shall expell
 This something setled matter in his heart:
 Whereon his Braines still beating, puts him thus
 From fashion of himselfe. What thinke you on't?
   Pol. It shall do well. But yet do I beleeue
 The Origin and Commencement of this greefe
 Sprung from neglected loue. How now Ophelia?
 You neede not tell vs, what Lord Hamlet saide,
 We heard it all. My Lord, do as you please,
 But if you hold it fit after the Play,
 Let his Queene Mother all alone intreat him
 To shew his Greefes: let her be round with him,
 And Ile be plac'd so, please you in the eare
 Of all their Conference. If she finde him not,
 To England send him: Or confine him where
 Your wisedome best shall thinke
 
    King. It shall be so:
 Madnesse in great Ones, must not vnwatch'd go.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter Hamlet, and two or three of the Players.
 
   Ham. Speake the Speech I pray you, as I pronounc'd
 it to you trippingly on the Tongue: But if you mouth it,
 as many of your Players do, I had as liue the Town-Cryer
 had spoke my Lines: Nor do not saw the Ayre too much
 your hand thus, but vse all gently; for in the verie Torrent,
 Tempest, and (as I say) the Whirle-winde of
 Passion, you must acquire and beget a Temperance that
 may giue it Smoothnesse. O it offends mee to the Soule,
 to see a robustious Pery-wig-pated Fellow, teare a Passion
 to tatters, to verie ragges, to split the eares of the
 Groundlings: who (for the most part) are capeable of
 nothing, but inexplicable dumbe shewes, & noise: I could
 haue such a Fellow whipt for o're-doing Termagant: it
 outHerod's Herod. Pray you auoid it
 
    Player. I warrant your Honor
 
    Ham. Be not too tame neyther: but let your owne
 Discretion be your Tutor. Sute the Action to the Word,
 the Word to the Action, with this speciall obseruance:
 That you ore-stop not the modestie of Nature; for any
 thing so ouer-done, is fro[m] the purpose of Playing, whose
 end both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twer
 the Mirrour vp to Nature; to shew Vertue her owne
 Feature, Scorne her owne Image, and the verie Age and
 Bodie of the Time, his forme and pressure. Now, this
 ouer-done, or come tardie off, though it make the vnskilfull
 laugh, cannot but make the Iudicious greeue; The
 censure of the which One, must in your allowance o'reway
 a whole Theater of Others. Oh, there bee Players
 that I haue seene Play, and heard others praise, and that
 highly (not to speake it prophanely) that neyther hauing
 the accent of Christians, nor the gate of Christian, Pagan,
 or Norman, haue so strutted and bellowed, that I haue
 thought some of Natures Iouerney-men had made men,
 and not made them well, they imitated Humanity so abhominably
 
    Play. I hope we haue reform'd that indifferently with
 vs, Sir
 
    Ham. O reforme it altogether. And let those that
 play your Clownes, speake no more then is set downe for
 them. For there be of them, that will themselues laugh,
 to set on some quantitie of barren Spectators to laugh
 too, though in the meane time, some necessary Question
 of the Play be then to be considered: that's Villanous, &
 shewes a most pittifull Ambition in the Foole that vses
 it. Go make you readie.
 
 Exit Players.
 
 Enter Polonius, Rosincrance, and Guildensterne.
 
 How now my Lord,
 Will the King heare this peece of Worke?
   Pol. And the Queene too, and that presently
 
    Ham. Bid the Players make hast.
 
 Exit Polonius.
 
 Will you two helpe to hasten them?
   Both. We will my Lord.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter Horatio.
 
   Ham. What hoa, Horatio?
   Hora. Heere sweet Lord, at your Seruice
 
    Ham. Horatio, thou art eene as iust a man
 As ere my Conuersation coap'd withall
 
    Hora. O my deere Lord
 
    Ham. Nay, do not thinke I flatter:
 For what aduancement may I hope from thee,
 That no Reuennew hast, but thy good spirits
 To feed & cloath thee. Why shold the poor be flatter'd?
 No, let the Candied tongue, like absurd pompe,
 And crooke the pregnant Hindges of the knee,
 Where thrift may follow faining? Dost thou heare,
 Since my deere Soule was Mistris of my choyse,
 And could of men distinguish, her election
 Hath seal'd thee for her selfe. For thou hast bene
 As one in suffering all, that suffers nothing.
 A man that Fortunes buffets, and Rewards
 Hath 'tane with equall Thankes. And blest are those,
 Whose Blood and Iudgement are so well co-mingled,
 That they are not a Pipe for Fortunes finger.
 To sound what stop she please. Giue me that man,
 That is not Passions Slaue, and I will weare him
 In my hearts Core. I, in my Heart of heart,
 As I do thee. Something too much of this.
 There is a Play to night to before the King.
 One Scoene of it comes neere the Circumstance
 Which I haue told thee, of my Fathers death.
 I prythee, when thou see'st that Acte a-foot,
 Euen with the verie Comment of my Soule
 Obserue mine Vnkle: If his occulted guilt,
 Do not it selfe vnkennell in one speech,
 It is a damned Ghost that we haue seene:
 And my Imaginations are as foule
 As Vulcans Stythe. Giue him needfull note,
 For I mine eyes will riuet to his Face:
 And after we will both our iudgements ioyne,
 To censure of his seeming
 
    Hora. Well my Lord.
 If he steale ought the whil'st this Play is Playing,
 And scape detecting, I will pay the Theft.
 Enter King, Queene, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosincrance,
 Guildensterne, and
 other Lords attendant with his Guard carrying Torches. Danish
 March. Sound
 a Flourish.
 
   Ham. They are comming to the Play: I must be idle.
 Get you a place
 
    King. How fares our Cosin Hamlet?
   Ham. Excellent Ifaith, of the Camelions dish: I eate
 the Ayre promise-cramm'd, you cannot feed Capons so
 
    King. I haue nothing with this answer Hamlet, these
 words are not mine
 
    Ham. No, nor mine. Now my Lord, you plaid once
 i'th' Vniuersity, you say?
   Polon. That I did my Lord, and was accounted a good
 Actor
 
    Ham. And what did you enact?
   Pol. I did enact Iulius Caesar, I was kill'd i'th' Capitol:
 Brutus kill'd me
 
    Ham. It was a bruite part of him, to kill so Capitall a
 Calfe there. Be the Players ready?
   Rosin. I my Lord, they stay vpon your patience
 
    Qu. Come hither my good Hamlet, sit by me
 
    Ha. No good Mother, here's Mettle more attractiue
 
    Pol. Oh ho, do you marke that?
   Ham. Ladie, shall I lye in your Lap?
   Ophe. No my Lord
 
    Ham. I meane, my Head vpon your Lap?
   Ophe. I my Lord
 
    Ham. Do you thinke I meant Country matters?
   Ophe. I thinke nothing, my Lord
 
    Ham. That's a faire thought to ly betweene Maids legs
   Ophe. What is my Lord?
   Ham. Nothing
 
    Ophe. You are merrie, my Lord?
   Ham. Who I?
   Ophe. I my Lord
 
    Ham. Oh God, your onely Iigge-maker: what should
 a man do, but be merrie. For looke you how cheerefully
 my Mother lookes, and my Father dyed within's two
 Houres
 
    Ophe. Nay, 'tis twice two moneths, my Lord
 
    Ham. So long? Nay then let the Diuel weare blacke,
 for Ile haue a suite of Sables. Oh Heauens! dye two moneths
 ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's hope, a
 great mans Memorie, may out-liue his life halfe a yeare:
 But byrlady he must builde Churches then: or else shall
 he suffer not thinking on, with the Hoby-horsse, whose
 Epitaph is, For o, For o, the Hoby-horse is forgot.
 
 Hoboyes play. The dumbe shew enters.
 
 Enter a King and Queene, very louingly; the Queene embracing
 him. She
 kneeles, and makes shew of Protestation vnto him. He takes her
 vp, and
 declines his head vpon her neck. Layes him downe vpon a Banke
 of Flowers.
 She seeing him a-sleepe, leaues him. Anon comes in a Fellow,
 takes off his
 Crowne, kisses it, and powres poyson in the Kings eares, and
 Exits. The
 Queene returnes, findes the King dead, and makes passionate
 Action. The
 Poysoner, with some two or three Mutes comes in againe, seeming
 to lament
 with her. The dead body is carried away: The Poysoner Wooes the
 Queene with
 Gifts, she seemes loath and vnwilling awhile, but in the end,
 accepts his
 loue.
 
 Exeunt.
 
   Ophe. What meanes this, my Lord?
   Ham. Marry this is Miching Malicho, that meanes
 Mischeefe
 
    Ophe. Belike this shew imports the Argument of the
 Play?
   Ham. We shall know by these Fellowes: the Players
 cannot keepe counsell, they'l tell all
 
    Ophe. Will they tell vs what this shew meant?
   Ham. I, or any shew that you'l shew him. Bee not
 you asham'd to shew, hee'l not shame to tell you what it
 meanes
 
    Ophe. You are naught, you are naught, Ile marke the
 Play.
 Enter Prologue.
 
 For vs, and for our Tragedie,
 Heere stooping to your Clemencie:
 We begge your hearing Patientlie
 
    Ham. Is this a Prologue, or the Poesie of a Ring?
   Ophe. 'Tis briefe my Lord
 
    Ham. As Womans loue.
 Enter King and his Queene.
 
   King. Full thirtie times hath Phoebus Cart gon round,
 Neptunes salt Wash, and Tellus Orbed ground:
 And thirtie dozen Moones with borrowed sheene,
 About the World haue times twelue thirties beene,
 Since loue our hearts, and Hymen did our hands
 Vnite comutuall, in most sacred Bands
 
    Bap. So many iournies may the Sunne and Moone
 Make vs againe count o're, ere loue be done.
 But woe is me, you are so sicke of late,
 So farre from cheere, and from your former state,
 That I distrust you: yet though I distrust,
 Discomfort you (my Lord) it nothing must:
 For womens Feare and Loue, holds quantitie,
 In neither ought, or in extremity:
 Now what my loue is, proofe hath made you know,
 And as my Loue is siz'd, my Feare is so
 
    King. Faith I must leaue thee Loue, and shortly too:
 My operant Powers my Functions leaue to do:
 And thou shalt liue in this faire world behinde,
 Honour'd, belou'd, and haply, one as kinde.
 For Husband shalt thou-
   Bap. Oh confound the rest:
 Such Loue, must needs be Treason in my brest:
 In second Husband, let me be accurst,
 None wed the second, but who kill'd the first
 
    Ham. Wormwood, Wormwood
 
    Bapt. The instances that second Marriage moue,
 Are base respects of Thrift, but none of Loue.
 A second time, I kill my Husband dead,
 When second Husband kisses me in Bed
 
    King. I do beleeue you. Think what now you speak:
 But what we do determine, oft we breake:
 Purpose is but the slaue to Memorie,
 Of violent Birth, but poore validitie:
 Which now like Fruite vnripe stickes on the Tree,
 But fall vnshaken, when they mellow bee.
 Most necessary 'tis, that we forget
 To pay our selues, what to our selues is debt:
 What to our selues in passion we propose,
 The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
 The violence of other Greefe or Ioy,
 Their owne ennactors with themselues destroy:
 Where Ioy most Reuels, Greefe doth most lament;
 Greefe ioyes, Ioy greeues on slender accident.
 This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange
 That euen our Loues should with our Fortunes change.
 For 'tis a question left vs yet to proue,
 Whether Loue lead Fortune, or else Fortune Loue.
 The great man downe, you marke his fauourites flies,
 The poore aduanc'd, makes Friends of Enemies:
 And hitherto doth Loue on Fortune tend,
 For who not needs, shall neuer lacke a Frend:
 And who in want a hollow Friend doth try,
 Directly seasons him his Enemie.
 But orderly to end, where I begun,
 Our Willes and Fates do so contrary run,
 That our Deuices still are ouerthrowne,
 Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our owne.
 So thinke thou wilt no second Husband wed.
 But die thy thoughts, when thy first Lord is dead
 
    Bap. Nor Earth to giue me food, nor Heauen light,
 Sport and repose locke from me day and night:
 Each opposite that blankes the face of ioy,
 Meet what I would haue well, and it destroy:
 Both heere, and hence, pursue me lasting strife,
 If once a Widdow, euer I be Wife
 
    Ham. If she should breake it now
 
    King. 'Tis deepely sworne:
 Sweet, leaue me heere a while,
 My spirits grow dull, and faine I would beguile
 The tedious day with sleepe
 
    Qu. Sleepe rocke thy Braine,
 
 Sleepes
 
 And neuer come mischance betweene vs twaine.
 
 Exit
 
   Ham. Madam, how like you this Play?
   Qu. The Lady protests to much me thinkes
 
    Ham. Oh but shee'l keepe her word
 
    King. Haue you heard the Argument, is there no Offence
 in't?
   Ham. No, no, they do but iest, poyson in iest, no Offence
 i'th' world
 
    King. What do you call the Play?
   Ham. The Mouse-trap: Marry how? Tropically:
 This Play is the Image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago
 is the Dukes name, his wife Baptista: you shall see
 anon: 'tis a knauish peece of worke: But what o'that?
 Your Maiestie, and wee that haue free soules, it touches
 vs not: let the gall'd iade winch: our withers are vnrung.
 Enter Lucianus.
 
 This is one Lucianus nephew to the King
 
    Ophe. You are a good Chorus, my Lord
 
    Ham. I could interpret betweene you and your loue:
 if I could see the Puppets dallying
 
    Ophe. You are keene my Lord, you are keene
 
    Ham. It would cost you a groaning, to take off my
 edge
 
    Ophe. Still better and worse
 
    Ham. So you mistake Husbands.
 Begin Murderer. Pox, leaue thy damnable Faces, and
 begin. Come, the croaking Rauen doth bellow for Reuenge
 
    Lucian. Thoughts blacke, hands apt,
 Drugges fit, and Time agreeing:
 Confederate season, else, no Creature seeing:
 Thou mixture ranke, of Midnight Weeds collected,
 With Hecats Ban, thrice blasted, thrice infected,
 Thy naturall Magicke, and dire propertie,
 On wholsome life, vsurpe immediately.
 
 Powres the poyson in his eares.
 
   Ham. He poysons him i'th' Garden for's estate: His
 name's Gonzago: the Story is extant and writ in choyce
 Italian. You shall see anon how the Murtherer gets the
 loue of Gonzago's wife
 
    Ophe. The King rises
 
    Ham. What, frighted with false fire
 
    Qu. How fares my Lord?
   Pol. Giue o're the Play
 
    King. Giue me some Light. Away
 
    All. Lights, Lights, Lights.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Manet Hamlet & Horatio.
 
   Ham. Why let the strucken Deere go weepe,
 The Hart vngalled play:
 For some must watch, while some must sleepe;
 So runnes the world away.
 Would not this Sir, and a Forrest of Feathers, if the rest of
 my Fortunes turne Turke with me; with two Prouinciall
 Roses on my rac'd Shooes, get me a Fellowship in a crie
 of Players sir
 
    Hor. Halfe a share
 
    Ham. A whole one I,
 For thou dost know: Oh Damon deere,
 This Realme dismantled was of Ioue himselfe,
 And now reignes heere.
 A verie verie Paiocke
 
    Hora. You might haue Rim'd
 
    Ham. Oh good Horatio, Ile take the Ghosts word for
 a thousand pound. Did'st perceiue?
   Hora. Verie well my Lord
 
    Ham. Vpon the talke of the poysoning?
   Hora. I did verie well note him.
 Enter Rosincrance and Guildensterne.
 
   Ham. Oh, ha? Come some Musick. Come y Recorders:
 For if the King like not the Comedie,
 Why then belike he likes it not perdie.
 Come some Musicke
 
    Guild. Good my Lord, vouchsafe me a word with you
 
    Ham. Sir, a whole History
 
    Guild. The King, sir
 
    Ham. I sir, what of him?
   Guild. Is in his retyrement, maruellous distemper'd
 
    Ham. With drinke Sir?
   Guild. No my Lord, rather with choller
 
    Ham. Your wisedome should shew it selfe more richer,
 to signifie this to his Doctor: for for me to put him
 to his Purgation, would perhaps plundge him into farre
 more Choller
 
    Guild. Good my Lord put your discourse into some
 frame, and start not so wildely from my affayre
 
    Ham. I am tame Sir, pronounce
 
    Guild. The Queene your Mother, in most great affliction
 of spirit, hath sent me to you
 
    Ham. You are welcome
 
    Guild. Nay, good my Lord, this courtesie is not of
 the right breed. If it shall please you to make me a wholsome
 answer, I will doe your Mothers command'ment:
 if not, your pardon, and my returne shall bee the end of
 my Businesse
 
    Ham. Sir, I cannot
 
    Guild. What, my Lord?
   Ham. Make you a wholsome answere: my wits diseas'd.
 But sir, such answers as I can make, you shal command:
 or rather you say, my Mother: therfore no more
 but to the matter. My Mother you say
 
    Rosin. Then thus she sayes: your behauior hath stroke
 her into amazement, and admiration
 
    Ham. Oh wonderfull Sonne, that can so astonish a
 Mother. But is there no sequell at the heeles of this Mothers
 admiration?
   Rosin. She desires to speake with you in her Closset,
 ere you go to bed
 
    Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our Mother.
 Haue you any further Trade with vs?
   Rosin. My Lord, you once did loue me
 
    Ham. So I do still, by these pickers and stealers
 
    Rosin. Good my Lord, what is your cause of distemper?
 You do freely barre the doore of your owne Libertie,
 if you deny your greefes to your Friend
 
    Ham. Sir I lacke Aduancement
 
    Rosin. How can that be, when you haue the voyce of
 the King himselfe, for your Succession in Denmarke?
   Ham. I, but while the grasse growes, the Prouerbe is
 something musty.
 Enter one with a Recorder.
 
 O the Recorder. Let me see, to withdraw with you, why
 do you go about to recouer the winde of mee, as if you
 would driue me into a toyle?
   Guild. O my Lord, if my Dutie be too bold, my loue
 is too vnmannerly
 
    Ham. I do not well vnderstand that. Will you play
 vpon this Pipe?
   Guild. My Lord, I cannot
 
    Ham. I pray you
 
    Guild. Beleeue me, I cannot
 
    Ham. I do beseech you
 
    Guild. I know no touch of it, my Lord
 
    Ham. 'Tis as easie as lying: gouerne these Ventiges
 with your finger and thumbe, giue it breath with your
 mouth, and it will discourse most excellent Musicke.
 Looke you, these are the stoppes
 
    Guild. But these cannot I command to any vtterance
 of hermony, I haue not the skill
 
    Ham. Why looke you now, how vnworthy a thing
 you make of me: you would play vpon mee; you would
 seeme to know my stops: you would pluck out the heart
 of my Mysterie; you would sound mee from my lowest
 Note, to the top of my Compasse: and there is much Musicke,
 excellent Voice, in this little Organe, yet cannot
 you make it. Why do you thinke, that I am easier to bee
 plaid on, then a Pipe? Call me what Instrument you will,
 though you can fret me, you cannot play vpon me. God
 blesse you Sir.
 Enter Polonius.
 
   Polon. My Lord; the Queene would speak with you,
 and presently
 
    Ham. Do you see that Clowd? that's almost in shape
 like a Camell
 
    Polon. By'th' Masse, and it's like a Camell indeed
 
    Ham. Me thinkes it is like a Weazell
 
    Polon. It is back'd like a Weazell
 
    Ham. Or like a Whale?
   Polon. Verie like a Whale
 
    Ham. Then will I come to my Mother, by and by:
 They foole me to the top of my bent.
 I will come by and by
 
    Polon. I will say so.
 Enter.
 
   Ham. By and by, is easily said. Leaue me Friends:
 'Tis now the verie witching time of night,
 When Churchyards yawne, and Hell it selfe breaths out
 Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood,
 And do such bitter businesse as the day
 Would quake to looke on. Soft now, to my Mother:
 Oh Heart, loose not thy Nature; let not euer
 The Soule of Nero, enter this firme bosome:
 Let me be cruell, not vnnaturall,
 I will speake Daggers to her, but vse none:
 My Tongue and Soule in this be Hypocrites.
 How in my words someuer she be shent,
 To giue them Seales, neuer my Soule consent.
 Enter King, Rosincrance, and Guildensterne.
 
   King. I like him not, nor stands it safe with vs,
 To let his madnesse range. Therefore prepare you,
 I your Commission will forthwith dispatch,
 And he to England shall along with you:
 The termes of our estate, may not endure
 Hazard so dangerous as doth hourely grow
 Out of his Lunacies
 
    Guild. We will our selues prouide:
 Most holie and Religious feare it is
 To keepe those many many bodies safe
 That liue and feede vpon your Maiestie
 
    Rosin. The single
 And peculiar life is bound
 With all the strength and Armour of the minde,
 To keepe it selfe from noyance: but much more,
 That Spirit, vpon whose spirit depends and rests
 The liues of many, the cease of Maiestie
 Dies not alone; but like a Gulfe doth draw
 What's neere it, with it. It is a massie wheele
 Fixt on the Somnet of the highest Mount.
 To whose huge Spoakes, ten thousand lesser things
 Are mortiz'd and adioyn'd: which when it falles,
 Each small annexment, pettie consequence
 Attends the boystrous Ruine. Neuer alone
 Did the King sighe, but with a generall grone
 
    King. Arme you, I pray you to this speedie Voyage;
 For we will Fetters put vpon this feare,
 Which now goes too free-footed
 
    Both. We will haste vs.
 
 Exeunt. Gent.
 
 Enter Polonius.
 
   Pol. My Lord, he's going to his Mothers Closset:
 Behinde the Arras Ile conuey my selfe
 To heare the Processe. Ile warrant shee'l tax him home,
 And as you said, and wisely was it said,
 'Tis meete that some more audience then a Mother,
 Since Nature makes them partiall, should o're-heare
 The speech of vantage. Fare you well my Liege,
 Ile call vpon you ere you go to bed,
 And tell you what I know
 
    King. Thankes deere my Lord.
 Oh my offence is ranke, it smels to heauen,
 It hath the primall eldest curse vpon't,
 A Brothers murther. Pray can I not,
 Though inclination be as sharpe as will:
 My stronger guilt, defeats my strong intent,
 And like a man to double businesse bound,
 I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
 And both neglect; what if this cursed hand
 Were thicker then it selfe with Brothers blood,
 Is there not Raine enough in the sweet Heauens
 To wash it white as Snow? Whereto serues mercy,
 But to confront the visage of Offence?
 And what's in Prayer, but this two-fold force,
 To be fore-stalled ere we come to fall,
 Or pardon'd being downe? Then Ile looke vp,
 My fault is past. But oh, what forme of Prayer
 Can serue my turne? Forgiue me my foule Murther:
 That cannot be, since I am still possest
 Of those effects for which I did the Murther.
 My Crowne, mine owne Ambition, and my Queene:
 May one be pardon'd, and retaine th' offence?
 In the corrupted currants of this world,
 Offences gilded hand may shoue by Iustice,
 And oft 'tis seene, the wicked prize it selfe
 Buyes out the Law; but 'tis not so aboue,
 There is no shuffling, there the Action lyes
 In his true Nature, and we our selues compell'd
 Euen to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
 To giue in euidence. What then? What rests?
 Try what Repentance can. What can it not?
 Yet what can it, when one cannot repent?
 Oh wretched state! Oh bosome, blacke as death!
 Oh limed soule, that strugling to be free,
 Art more ingag'd: Helpe Angels, make assay:
 Bow stubborne knees, and heart with strings of Steele,
 Be soft as sinewes of the new-borne Babe,
 All may be well.
 Enter Hamlet.
 
   Ham. Now might I do it pat, now he is praying,
 And now Ile doo't, and so he goes to Heauen,
 And so am I reueng'd: that would be scann'd,
 A Villaine killes my Father, and for that
 I his foule Sonne, do this same Villaine send
 To heauen. Oh this is hyre and Sallery, not Reuenge.
 He tooke my Father grossely, full of bread,
 With all his Crimes broad blowne, as fresh as May,
 And how his Audit stands, who knowes, saue Heauen:
 But in our circumstance and course of thought
 'Tis heauie with him: and am I then reueng'd,
 To take him in the purging of his Soule,
 When he is fit and season'd for his passage? No.
 Vp Sword, and know thou a more horrid hent
 When he is drunke asleepe: or in his Rage,
 Or in th' incestuous pleasure of his bed,
 At gaming, swearing, or about some acte
 That ha's no rellish of Saluation in't,
 Then trip him, that his heeles may kicke at Heauen,
 And that his Soule may be as damn'd and blacke
 As Hell, whereto it goes. My Mother stayes,
 This Physicke but prolongs thy sickly dayes.
 Enter.
 
   King. My words flye vp, my thoughts remain below,
 Words without thoughts, neuer to Heauen go.
 Enter.
 
 Enter Queene and Polonius.
 
   Pol. He will come straight:
 Looke you lay home to him,
 Tell him his prankes haue been too broad to beare with,
 And that your Grace hath screen'd, and stoode betweene
 Much heate, and him. Ile silence me e'ene heere:
 Pray you be round with him
 
    Ham. within. Mother, mother, mother
 
    Qu. Ile warrant you, feare me not.
 Withdraw, I heare him coming.
 Enter Hamlet.
 
   Ham. Now Mother, what's the matter?
   Qu. Hamlet, thou hast thy Father much offended
 
    Ham. Mother, you haue my Father much offended
 
    Qu. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue
 
    Ham. Go, go, you question with an idle tongue
 
    Qu. Why how now Hamlet?
   Ham. Whats the matter now?
   Qu. Haue you forgot me?
   Ham. No by the Rood, not so:
 You are the Queene, your Husbands Brothers wife,
 But would you were not so. You are my Mother
 
    Qu. Nay, then Ile set those to you that can speake
 
    Ham. Come, come, and sit you downe, you shall not
 boudge:
 You go not till I set you vp a glasse,
 Where you may see the inmost part of you?
   Qu. What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murther me?
 Helpe, helpe, hoa
 
    Pol. What hoa, helpe, helpe, helpe
 
    Ham. How now, a Rat? dead for a Ducate, dead
 
    Pol. Oh I am slaine.
 
 Killes Polonius
 
    Qu. Oh me, what hast thou done?
   Ham. Nay I know not, is it the King?
   Qu. Oh what a rash, and bloody deed is this?
   Ham. A bloody deed, almost as bad good Mother,
 As kill a King, and marrie with his Brother
 
    Qu. As kill a King?
   Ham. I Lady, 'twas my word.
 Thou wretched, rash, intruding foole farewell,
 I tooke thee for thy Betters, take thy Fortune,
 Thou find'st to be too busie, is some danger.
 Leaue wringing of your hands, peace, sit you downe,
 And let me wring your heart, for so I shall
 If it be made of penetrable stuffe;
 If damned Custome haue not braz'd it so,
 That it is proofe and bulwarke against Sense
 
    Qu. What haue I done, that thou dar'st wag thy tong,
 In noise so rude against me?
   Ham. Such an Act
 That blurres the grace and blush of Modestie,
 Cals Vertue Hypocrite, takes off the Rose
 From the faire forehead of an innocent loue,
 And makes a blister there. Makes marriage vowes
 As false as Dicers Oathes. Oh such a deed,
 As from the body of Contraction pluckes
 The very soule, and sweete Religion makes
 A rapsidie of words. Heauens face doth glow,
 Yea this solidity and compound masse,
 With tristfull visage as against the doome,
 Is thought-sicke at the act
 
    Qu. Aye me; what act, that roares so lowd, & thunders
 in the Index
 
    Ham. Looke heere vpon this Picture, and on this,
 The counterfet presentment of two Brothers:
 See what a grace was seated on his Brow,
 Hyperions curles, the front of Ioue himselfe,
 An eye like Mars, to threaten or command
 A Station, like the Herald Mercurie
 New lighted on a heauen-kissing hill:
 A Combination, and a forme indeed,
 Where euery God did seeme to set his Seale,
 To giue the world assurance of a man.
 This was your Husband. Looke you now what followes.
 Heere is your Husband, like a Mildew'd eare
 Blasting his wholsom breath. Haue you eyes?
 Could you on this faire Mountaine leaue to feed,
 And batten on this Moore? Ha? Haue you eyes?
 You cannot call it Loue: For at your age,
 The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
 And waites vpon the Iudgement: and what Iudgement
 Would step from this, to this? What diuell was't,
 That thus hath cousend you at hoodman-blinde?
 O Shame! where is thy Blush? Rebellious Hell,
 If thou canst mutine in a Matrons bones,
 To flaming youth, let Vertue be as waxe.
 And melt in her owne fire. Proclaime no shame,
 When the compulsiue Ardure giues the charge,
 Since Frost it selfe, as actiuely doth burne,
 As Reason panders Will
 
    Qu. O Hamlet, speake no more.
 Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soule,
 And there I see such blacke and grained spots,
 As will not leaue their Tinct
 
    Ham. Nay, but to liue
 In the ranke sweat of an enseamed bed,
 Stew'd in Corruption; honying and making loue
 Ouer the nasty Stye
 
    Qu. Oh speake to me, no more,
 These words like Daggers enter in mine eares.
 No more sweet Hamlet
 
    Ham. A Murderer, and a Villaine:
 A Slaue, that is not twentieth part the tythe
 Of your precedent Lord. A vice of Kings,
 A Cutpurse of the Empire and the Rule.
 That from a shelfe, the precious Diadem stole,
 And put it in his Pocket
 
    Qu. No more.
 Enter Ghost.
 
   Ham. A King of shreds and patches.
 Saue me; and houer o're me with your wings
 You heauenly Guards. What would your gracious figure?
   Qu. Alas he's mad
 
    Ham. Do you not come your tardy Sonne to chide,
 That laps't in Time and Passion, lets go by
 Th' important acting of your dread command? Oh say
 
    Ghost. Do not forget: this Visitation
 Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
 But looke, Amazement on thy Mother sits;
 O step betweene her, and her fighting Soule,
 Conceit in weakest bodies, strongest workes.
 Speake to her Hamlet
 
    Ham. How is it with you Lady?
   Qu. Alas, how is't with you?
 That you bend your eye on vacancie,
 And with their corporall ayre do hold discourse.
 Forth at your eyes, your spirits wildely peepe,
 And as the sleeping Soldiours in th' Alarme,
 Your bedded haire, like life in excrements,
 Start vp, and stand an end. Oh gentle Sonne,
 Vpon the heate and flame of thy distemper
 Sprinkle coole patience. Whereon do you looke?
   Ham. On him, on him: look you how pale he glares,
 His forme and cause conioyn'd, preaching to stones,
 Would make them capeable. Do not looke vpon me,
 Least with this pitteous action you conuert
 My sterne effects: then what I haue to do,
 Will want true colour; teares perchance for blood
 
    Qu. To who do you speake this?
   Ham. Do you see nothing there?
   Qu. Nothing at all, yet all that is I see
 
    Ham. Nor did you nothing heare?
   Qu. No, nothing but our selues
 
    Ham. Why look you there: looke how it steals away:
 My Father in his habite, as he liued,
 Looke where he goes euen now out at the Portall.
 Enter.
 
   Qu. This is the very coynage of your Braine,
 This bodilesse Creation extasie is very cunning in
 
    Ham. Extasie?
 My Pulse as yours doth temperately keepe time,
 And makes as healthfull Musicke. It is not madnesse
 That I haue vttered; bring me to the Test
 And I the matter will re-word: which madnesse
 Would gamboll from. Mother, for loue of Grace,
 Lay not a flattering Vnction to your soule,
 That not your trespasse, but my madnesse speakes:
 It will but skin and filme the Vlcerous place,
 Whil'st ranke Corruption mining all within,
 Infects vnseene. Confesse your selfe to Heauen,
 Repent what's past, auoyd what is to come,
 And do not spred the Compost on the Weedes,
 To make them ranke. Forgiue me this my Vertue,
 For in the fatnesse of this pursie times,
 Vertue it selfe, of Vice must pardon begge,
 Yea courb, and woe, for leaue to do him good
 
    Qu. Oh Hamlet,
 Thou hast cleft my heart in twaine
 
    Ham. O throw away the worser part of it,
 And liue the purer with the other halfe.
 Good night, but go not to mine Vnkles bed,
 Assume a Vertue, if you haue it not, refraine to night,
 And that shall lend a kinde of easinesse
 To the next abstinence. Once more goodnight,
 And when you are desirous to be blest,
 Ile blessing begge of you. For this same Lord,
 I do repent: but heauen 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 gaue him: so againe, good night.
 I must be cruell, onely to be kinde;
 Thus bad begins and worse remaines behinde
 
    Qu. What shall I do?
   Ham. Not this by no meanes that I bid you do:
 Let the blunt King tempt you againe to bed,
 Pinch Wanton on your cheeke, call you his Mouse,
 And let him for a paire of reechie kisses,
 Or padling in your necke with his damn'd Fingers,
 Make you to rauell all this matter out,
 That I essentially am not in madnesse,
 But made in craft. 'Twere good you let him know,
 For who that's but a Queene, faire, sober, wise,
 Would from a Paddocke, from a Bat, a Gibbe,
 Such deere concernings hide, Who would do so,
 No in despight of Sense and Secrecie,
 Vnpegge the Basket on the houses top:
 Let the Birds flye, and like the famous Ape
 To try Conclusions in the Basket, creepe
 And breake your owne necke downe
 
    Qu. Be thou assur'd, if words be made of breath,
 And breath of life: I haue no life to breath
 What thou hast saide to me
 
    Ham. I must to England, you know that?
   Qu. Alacke I had forgot: 'Tis so concluded on
 
    Ham. This man shall set me packing:
 Ile lugge the Guts into the Neighbor roome,
 Mother goodnight. Indeede this Counsellor
 Is now most still, most secret, and most graue,
 Who was in life, a foolish prating Knaue.
 Come sir, to draw toward an end with you.
 Good night Mother.
 Exit Hamlet tugging in Polonius.
 
 Enter King.
 
   King. There's matters in these sighes.
 These profound heaues
 You must translate; Tis fit we vnderstand them.
 Where is your Sonne?
   Qu. Ah my good Lord, what haue I seene to night?
   King. What Gertrude? How do's Hamlet?
   Qu. Mad as the Seas, and winde, when both contend
 Which is the Mightier, in his lawlesse fit
 Behinde the Arras, hearing something stirre,
 He whips his Rapier out, and cries a Rat, a Rat,
 And in his brainish apprehension killes
 The vnseene good old man
 
    King. Oh heauy deed:
 It had bin so with vs had we beene there:
 His Liberty is full of threats to all,
 To you your selfe, to vs, to euery one.
 Alas, how shall this bloody deede be answered?
 It will be laide to vs, whose prouidence
 Should haue kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt,
 This mad yong man. But so much was our loue,
 We would not vnderstand what was most fit,
 But like the Owner of a foule disease,
 To keepe it from divulging, let's it feede
 Euen on the pith of life. Where is he gone?
   Qu. To draw apart the body he hath kild,
 O're whom his very madnesse like some Oare
 Among a Minerall of Mettels base
 Shewes it selfe pure. He weepes for what is done
 
    King. Oh Gertrude, come away:
 The Sun no sooner shall the Mountaines touch,
 But we will ship him hence, and this vilde deed,
 We must with all our Maiesty and Skill
 Both countenance, and excuse.
 Enter Ros. & Guild.
 
 Ho Guildenstern:
 Friends both go ioyne you with some further ayde:
 Hamlet in madnesse hath Polonius slaine,
 And from his Mother Clossets hath he drag'd him.
 Go seeke him out, speake faire, and bring the body
 Into the Chappell. I pray you hast in this.
 Exit Gent.
 
 Come Gertrude, wee'l call vp our wisest friends,
 To let them know both what we meane to do,
 And what's vntimely done. Oh come away,
 My soule is full of discord and dismay.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter Hamlet.
 
   Ham. Safely stowed
 
    Gentlemen within. Hamlet, Lord Hamlet
 
    Ham. What noise? Who cals on Hamlet?
 Oh heere they come.
 Enter Ros. and Guildensterne.
 
   Ro. What haue you done my Lord with the dead body?
   Ham. Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis Kinne
 
    Rosin. Tell vs where 'tis, that we may take it thence,
 And beare it to the Chappell
 
    Ham. Do not beleeue it
 
    Rosin. Beleeue what?
   Ham. That I can keepe your counsell, and not mine
 owne. Besides, to be demanded of a Spundge, what replication
 should be made by the Sonne of a King
 
    Rosin. Take you me for a Spundge, my Lord?
   Ham. I sir, that sokes vp the Kings Countenance, his
 Rewards, his Authorities (but such Officers do the King
 best seruice in the end. He keepes them like an Ape in
 the corner of his iaw, first mouth'd to be last swallowed,
 when he needes what you haue glean'd, it is but squeezing
 you, and Spundge you shall be dry againe
 
    Rosin. I vnderstand you not my Lord
 
    Ham. I am glad of it: a knauish speech sleepes in a
 foolish eare
 
    Rosin. My Lord, you must tell vs where the body is,
 and go with vs to the King
 
    Ham. The body is with the King, but the King is not
 with the body. The King, is a thing-
   Guild. A thing my Lord?
   Ham. Of nothing: bring me to him, hide Fox, and all
 after.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter King.
 
   King. I haue sent to seeke him, and to find the bodie:
 How dangerous is it that this man goes loose:
 Yet must not we put the strong Law on him:
 Hee's loued of the distracted multitude,
 Who like not in their iudgement, but their eyes:
 And where 'tis so, th' Offenders scourge is weigh'd
 But neerer the offence: to beare all smooth, and euen,
 This sodaine sending him away, must seeme
 Deliberate pause, diseases desperate growne,
 By desperate appliance are releeued,
 Or not at all.
 Enter Rosincrane.
 
 How now? What hath befalne?
   Rosin. Where the dead body is bestow'd my Lord,
 We cannot get from him
 
    King. But where is he?
   Rosin. Without my Lord, guarded to know your
 pleasure
 
    King. Bring him before vs
 
    Rosin. Hoa, Guildensterne? Bring in my Lord.
 Enter Hamlet and Guildensterne.
 
   King. Now Hamlet, where's Polonius?
   Ham. At Supper
 
    King. At Supper? Where?
   Ham. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten, a certaine
 conuocation of wormes are e'ne at him. Your worm
 is your onely Emperor for diet. We fat all creatures else
 to fat vs, and we fat our selfe for Magots. Your fat King,
 and your leane Begger is but variable seruice to dishes,
 but to one Table that's the end
 
    King. What dost thou meane by this?
   Ham. Nothing but to shew you how a King may go
 a Progresse through the guts of a Begger
 
    King. Where is Polonius
 
    Ham. In heauen, send thither to see. If your Messenger
 finde him not there, seeke him i'th other place your
 selfe: but indeed, if you finde him not this moneth, you
 shall nose him as you go vp the staires into the Lobby
 
    King. Go seeke him there
 
    Ham. He will stay till ye come
 
    K. Hamlet, this deed of thine, for thine especial safety
 Which we do tender, as we deerely greeue
 For that which thou hast done, must send thee hence
 With fierie Quicknesse. Therefore prepare thy selfe,
 The Barke is readie, and the winde at helpe,
 Th' Associates tend, and euery thing at bent
 For England
 
    Ham. For England?
   King. I Hamlet
 
    Ham. Good
 
    King. So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes
 
    Ham. I see a Cherube that see's him: but come, for
 England. Farewell deere Mother
 
    King. Thy louing Father Hamlet
 
    Hamlet. My Mother: Father and Mother is man and
 wife: man & wife is one flesh, and so my mother. Come,
 for England.
 
 Exit
 
   King. Follow him at foote,
 Tempt him with speed aboord:
 Delay it not, Ile haue him hence to night.
 Away, for euery thing is Seal'd and done
 That else leanes on th' Affaire, pray you make hast.
 And England, if my loue thou holdst at ought,
 As my great power thereof may giue thee sense,
 Since yet thy Cicatrice lookes raw and red
 After the Danish Sword, and thy free awe
 Payes homage to vs; thou maist not coldly set
 Our Soueraigne Processe, which imports at full
 By Letters coniuring to that effect
 The present death of Hamlet. Do it England,
 For like the Hecticke in my blood he rages,
 And thou must cure me: Till I know 'tis done,
 How ere my happes, my ioyes were ne're begun.
 
 Exit
 
 Enter Fortinbras with an Armie.
 
   For. Go Captaine, from me greet the Danish King,
 Tell him that by his license, Fortinbras
 Claimes the conueyance of a promis'd March
 Ouer his Kingdome. You know the Rendeuous:
 If that his Maiesty would ought with vs,
 We shall expresse our dutie in his eye,
 And let him know so
 
    Cap. I will doo't, my Lord
 
    For. Go safely on.
 Enter.
 
 Enter Queene and Horatio.
 
   Qu. I will not speake with her
 
    Hor. She is importunate, indeed distract, her moode
 will needs be pittied
 
    Qu. What would she haue?
   Hor. She speakes much of her Father; saies she heares
 There's trickes i'th' world, and hems, and beats her heart,
 Spurnes enuiously at Strawes, speakes things in doubt,
 That carry but halfe sense: Her speech is nothing,
 Yet the vnshaped vse of it doth moue
 The hearers to Collection; they ayme at it,
 And botch the words vp fit to their owne thoughts,
 Which as her winkes, and nods, and gestures yeeld them,
 Indeed would make one thinke there would be thought,
 Though nothing sure, yet much vnhappily
 
    Qu. 'Twere good she were spoken with,
 For she may strew dangerous coniectures
 In ill breeding minds. Let her come in.
 To my sicke soule (as sinnes true Nature is)
 Each toy seemes Prologue, to some great amisse,
 So full of Artlesse iealousie is guilt,
 It spill's it selfe, in fearing to be spilt.
 Enter Ophelia distracted.
 
   Ophe. Where is the beauteous Maiesty of Denmark
 
    Qu. How now Ophelia?
   Ophe. How should I your true loue know from another one?
 By his Cockle hat and staffe, and his Sandal shoone
 
    Qu. Alas sweet Lady: what imports this Song?
   Ophe. Say you? Nay pray you marke.
 He is dead and gone Lady, he is dead and gone,
 At his head a grasse-greene Turfe, at his heeles a stone.
 Enter King.
 
   Qu. Nay but Ophelia
 
    Ophe. Pray you marke.
 White his Shrow'd as the Mountaine Snow
 
    Qu. Alas, looke heere my Lord
 
    Ophe. Larded with sweet Flowers:
 Which bewept to the graue did not go,
 With true-loue showres
 
    King. How do ye, pretty Lady?
   Ophe. Well, God dil'd you. They say the Owle was
 a Bakers daughter. Lord, wee know what we are, but
 know not what we may be. God be at your Table
 
    King. Conceit vpon her Father
 
    Ophe. Pray you let's haue no words of this: but when
 they aske you what it meanes, say you this:
 To morrow is S[aint]. Valentines day, all in the morning betime,
 And I a Maid at your Window, to be your Valentine.
 Then vp he rose, & don'd his clothes, & dupt the chamber dore,
 Let in the Maid, that out a Maid, neuer departed more
 
    King. Pretty Ophelia
 
    Ophe. Indeed la? without an oath Ile make an end ont.
 By gis, and by S[aint]. Charity,
 Alacke, and fie for shame:
 Yong men wil doo't, if they come too't,
 By Cocke they are too blame.
 Quoth she before you tumbled me,
 You promis'd me to Wed:
 So would I ha done by yonder Sunne,
 And thou hadst not come to my bed
 
    King. How long hath she bin thus?
   Ophe. I hope all will be well. We must bee patient,
 but I cannot choose but weepe, to thinke they should
 lay him i'th' cold ground: My brother shall knowe of it,
 and so I thanke you for your good counsell. Come, my
 Coach: Goodnight Ladies: Goodnight sweet Ladies:
 Goodnight, goodnight.
 Enter.
 
   King. Follow her close,
 Giue her good watch I pray you:
 Oh this is the poyson of deepe greefe, it springs
 All from her Fathers death. Oh Gertrude, Gertrude,
 When sorrowes comes, they come not single spies,
 But in Battalians. First, her Father slaine,
 Next your Sonne gone, and he most violent Author
 Of his owne iust remoue: the people muddied,
 Thicke and vnwholsome in their thoughts, and whispers
 For good Polonius death; and we haue done but greenly
 In hugger mugger to interre him. Poore Ophelia
 Diuided from her selfe, and her faire Iudgement,
 Without the which we are Pictures, or meere Beasts.
 Last, and as much containing as all these,
 Her Brother is in secret come from France,
 Keepes on his wonder, keepes himselfe in clouds,
 And wants not Buzzers to infect his eare
 With pestilent Speeches of his Fathers death,
 Where in necessitie of matter Beggard,
 Will nothing sticke our persons to Arraigne
 In eare and eare. O my deere Gertrude, this,
 Like to a murdering Peece in many places,
 Giues me superfluous death.
 
 A Noise within.
 
 Enter a Messenger.
 
   Qu. Alacke, what noyse is this?
   King. Where are my Switzers?
 Let them guard the doore. What is the matter?
   Mes. Saue your selfe, my Lord.
 The Ocean (ouer-peering of his List)
 Eates not the Flats with more impittious haste
 Then young Laertes, in a Riotous head,
 Ore-beares your Officers, the rabble call him Lord,
 And as the world were now but to begin,
 Antiquity forgot, Custome not knowne,
 The Ratifiers and props of euery word,
 They cry choose we? Laertes shall be King,
 Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
 Laertes shall be King, Laertes King
 
    Qu. How cheerefully on the false Traile they cry,
 Oh this is Counter you false Danish Dogges.
 
 Noise within. Enter Laertes.
 
   King. The doores are broke
 
    Laer. Where is the King, sirs? Stand you all without
 
    All. No, let's come in
 
    Laer. I pray you giue me leaue
 
    Al. We will, we will
 
    Laer. I thanke you: Keepe the doore.
 Oh thou vilde King, giue me my Father
 
    Qu. Calmely good Laertes
 
    Laer. That drop of blood, that calmes
 Proclaimes me Bastard:
 Cries Cuckold to my Father, brands the Harlot
 Euen heere betweene the chaste vnsmirched brow
 Of my true Mother
 
    King. What is the cause Laertes,
 That thy Rebellion lookes so Gyant-like?
 Let him go Gertrude: Do not feare our person:
 There's such Diuinity doth hedge a King,
 That Treason can but peepe to what it would,
 Acts little of his will. Tell me Laertes,
 Why thou art thus Incenst? Let him go Gertrude.
 Speake man
 
    Laer. Where's my Father?
   King. Dead
 
    Qu. But not by him
 
    King. Let him demand his fill
 
    Laer. How came he dead? Ile not be Iuggel'd with.
 To hell Allegeance: Vowes, to the blackest diuell.
 Conscience and Grace, to the profoundest Pit.
 I dare Damnation: to this point I stand,
 That both the worlds I giue to negligence,
 Let come what comes: onely Ile be reueng'd
 Most throughly for my Father
 
    King. Who shall stay you?
   Laer. My Will, not all the world,
 And for my meanes, Ile husband them so well,
 They shall go farre with little
 
    King. Good Laertes:
 If you desire to know the certaintie
 Of your deere Fathers death, if writ in your reuenge,
 That Soop-stake you will draw both Friend and Foe,
 Winner and Looser
 
    Laer. None but his Enemies
 
    King. Will you know them then
 
    La. To his good Friends, thus wide Ile ope my Armes:
 And like the kinde Life-rend'ring Politician,
 Repast them with my blood
 
    King. Why now you speake
 Like a good Childe, and a true Gentleman.
 That I am guiltlesse of your Fathers death,
 And am most sensible in greefe for it,
 It shall as leuell to your Iudgement pierce
 As day do's to your eye.
 
 A noise within. Let her come in.
 
 Enter Ophelia.
 
   Laer. How now? what noise is that?
 Oh heate drie vp my Braines, teares seuen times salt,
 Burne out the Sence and Vertue of mine eye.
 By Heauen, thy madnesse shall be payed by waight,
 Till our Scale turnes the beame. Oh Rose of May,
 Deere Maid, kinde Sister, sweet Ophelia:
 Oh Heauens, is't possible, a yong Maids wits,
 Should be as mortall as an old mans life?
 Nature is fine in Loue, and where 'tis fine,
 It sends some precious instance of it selfe
 After the thing it loues
 
    Ophe. They bore him bare fac'd on the Beer,
 Hey non nony, nony, hey nony:
 And on his graue raines many a teare,
 Fare you well my Doue
 
    Laer. Had'st thou thy wits, and did'st perswade Reuenge,
 it could not moue thus
 
    Ophe. You must sing downe a-downe, and you call
 him a-downe-a. Oh, how the wheele becomes it? It is
 the false Steward that stole his masters daughter
 
    Laer. This nothings more then matter
 
    Ophe. There's Rosemary, that's for Remembraunce.
 Pray loue remember: and there is Paconcies, that's for
 Thoughts
 
    Laer. A document in madnesse, thoughts & remembrance
 fitted
 
    Ophe. There's Fennell for you, and Columbines: ther's
 Rew for you, and heere's some for me. Wee may call it
 Herbe-Grace a Sundaies: Oh you must weare your Rew
 with a difference. There's a Daysie, I would giue you
 some Violets, but they wither'd all when my Father dyed:
 They say, he made a good end;
 For bonny sweet Robin is all my ioy
 
    Laer. Thought, and Affliction, Passion, Hell it selfe:
 She turnes to Fauour, and to prettinesse
 
    Ophe. And will he not come againe,
 And will he not come againe:
 No, no, he is dead, go to thy Death-bed,
 He neuer wil come againe.
 His Beard as white as Snow,
 All Flaxen was his Pole:
 He is gone, he is gone, and we cast away mone,
 Gramercy on his Soule.
 And of all Christian Soules, I pray God.
 God buy ye.
 
 Exeunt. Ophelia
 
   Laer. Do you see this, you Gods?
   King. Laertes, I must common with your greefe,
 Or you deny me right: go but apart,
 Make choice of whom your wisest Friends you will,
 And they shall heare and iudge 'twixt you and me;
 If by direct or by Colaterall hand
 They finde vs touch'd, we will our Kingdome giue,
 Our Crowne, our Life, and all that we call Ours
 To you in satisfaction. But if not,
 Be you content to lend your patience to vs,
 And we shall ioyntly labour with your soule
 To giue it due content
 
    Laer. Let this be so:
 His meanes of death, his obscure buriall;
 No Trophee, Sword, nor Hatchment o're his bones,
 No Noble rite, nor formall ostentation,
 Cry to be heard, as 'twere from Heauen to Earth,
 That I must call in question
 
    King. So you shall:
 And where th' offence is, let the great Axe fall.
 I pray you go with me.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter Horatio, with an Attendant.
 
   Hora. What are they that would speake with me?
   Ser. Saylors sir, they say they haue Letters for you
 
    Hor. Let them come in,
 I do not know from what part of the world
 I should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
 Enter Saylor.
 
   Say. God blesse you Sir
 
    Hor. Let him blesse thee too
 
    Say. Hee shall Sir, and't please him. There's a Letter
 for you Sir: It comes from th' Ambassadours that was
 bound for England, if your name be Horatio, as I am let
 to know it is.
 
 Reads the Letter.
 
 Horatio, When thou shalt haue ouerlook'd this, giue these
 Fellowes some meanes to the King: They haue Letters
 for him. Ere we were two dayes old at Sea, a Pyrate of very
 Warlicke appointment gaue vs Chace. Finding our selues too
 slow of Saile, we put on a compelled Valour. In the Grapple, I
 boorded them: On the instant they got cleare of our Shippe, so
 I alone became their Prisoner. They haue dealt with mee, like
 Theeues of Mercy, but they knew what they did. I am to doe
 a good turne for them. Let the King haue the Letters I haue
 sent, and repaire thou to me with as much hast as thou wouldest
 flye death. I haue words to speake in your eare, will make thee
 dumbe, yet are they much too light for the bore of the Matter.
 These good Fellowes will bring thee where I am. Rosincrance
 and Guildensterne, hold their course for England. Of them
 I haue much to tell thee, Farewell.
 He that thou knowest thine,
 Hamlet.
 Come, I will giue you way for these your Letters,
 And do't the speedier, that you may direct me
 To him from whom you brought them.
 Enter.
 
 Enter King and Laertes.
 
   King. Now must your conscience my acquittance seal,
 And you must put me in your heart for Friend,
 Sith you haue heard, and with a knowing eare,
 That he which hath your Noble Father slaine,
 Pursued my life
 
    Laer. It well appeares. But tell me,
 Why you proceeded not against these feates,
 So crimefull, and so Capitall in Nature,
 As by your Safety, Wisedome, all things else,
 You mainly were stirr'd vp?
   King. O for two speciall Reasons,
 Which may to you (perhaps) seeme much vnsinnowed,
 And yet to me they are strong. The Queen his Mother,
 Liues almost by his lookes: and for my selfe,
 My Vertue or my Plague, be it either which,
 She's so coniunctiue to my life, and soule;
 That as the Starre moues not but in his Sphere,
 I could not but by her. The other Motiue,
 Why to a publike count I might not go,
 Is the great loue the generall gender beare him,
 Who dipping all his Faults in their affection,
 Would like the Spring that turneth Wood to Stone,
 Conuert his Gyues to Graces. So that my Arrowes
 Too slightly timbred for so loud a Winde,
 Would haue reuerted to my Bow againe,
 And not where I had arm'd them
 
    Laer. And so haue I a Noble Father lost,
 A Sister driuen into desperate tearmes,
 Who was (if praises may go backe againe)
 Stood Challenger on mount of all the Age
 For her perfections. But my reuenge will come
 
    King. Breake not your sleepes for that,
 You must not thinke
 That we are made of stuffe, so flat, and dull,
 That we can let our Beard be shooke with danger,
 And thinke it pastime. You shortly shall heare more,
 I lou'd your Father, and we loue our Selfe,
 And that I hope will teach you to imagine-
 Enter a Messenger.
 
 How now? What Newes?
   Mes. Letters my Lord from Hamlet, This to your
 Maiesty: this to the Queene
 
    King. From Hamlet? Who brought them?
   Mes. Saylors my Lord they say, I saw them not:
 They were giuen me by Claudio, he receiu'd them
 
    King. Laertes you shall heare them:
 Leaue vs.
 
 Exit Messenger
 
 High and Mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your
 Kingdome. To morrow shall I begge leaue to see your Kingly
 Eyes. When I shall (first asking your Pardon thereunto) recount
 th' Occasions of my sodaine, and more strange returne.
 Hamlet.
 What should this meane? Are all the rest come backe?
 Or is it some abuse? Or no such thing?
   Laer. Know you the hand?
   Kin. 'Tis Hamlets Character, naked and in a Postscript
 here he sayes alone: Can you aduise me?
   Laer. I'm lost in it my Lord; but let him come,
 It warmes the very sicknesse in my heart,
 That I shall liue and tell him to his teeth;
 Thus diddest thou
 
    Kin. If it be so Laertes, as how should it be so:
 How otherwise will you be rul'd by me?
   Laer. If so you'l not o'rerule me to a peace
 
    Kin. To thine owne peace: if he be now return'd,
 As checking at his Voyage, and that he meanes
 No more to vndertake it; I will worke him
 To an exployt now ripe in my Deuice,
 Vnder the which he shall not choose but fall;
 And for his death no winde of blame shall breath,
 But euen his Mother shall vncharge the practice,
 And call it accident: Some two Monthes hence
 Here was a Gentleman of Normandy,
 I'ue seene my selfe, and seru'd against the French,
 And they ran well on Horsebacke; but this Gallant
 Had witchcraft in't; he grew into his Seat,
 And to such wondrous doing brought his Horse,
 As had he beene encorps't and demy-Natur'd
 With the braue Beast, so farre he past my thought,
 That I in forgery of shapes and trickes,
 Come short of what he did
 
    Laer. A Norman was't?
   Kin. A Norman
 
    Laer. Vpon my life Lamound
 
    Kin. The very same
 
    Laer. I know him well, he is the Brooch indeed,
 And Iemme of all our Nation
 
    Kin. Hee mad confession of you,
 And gaue you such a Masterly report,
 For Art and exercise in your defence;
 And for your Rapier most especiall,
 That he cryed out, t'would be a sight indeed,
 If one could match you Sir. This report of his
 Did Hamlet so envenom with his Enuy,
 That he could nothing doe but wish and begge,
 Your sodaine comming ore to play with him;
 Now out of this
 
    Laer. Why out of this, my Lord?
   Kin. Laertes was your Father deare to you?
 Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,
 A face without a heart?
   Laer. Why aske you this?
   Kin. Not that I thinke you did not loue your Father,
 But that I know Loue is begun by Time:
 And that I see in passages of proofe,
 Time qualifies the sparke and fire of it:
 Hamlet comes backe: what would you vndertake,
 To show your selfe your Fathers sonne indeed,
 More then in words?
   Laer. To cut his throat i'th' Church
 
    Kin. No place indeed should murder Sancturize;
 Reuenge should haue no bounds: but good Laertes
 Will you doe this, keepe close within your Chamber,
 Hamlet return'd, shall know you are come home:
 Wee'l put on those shall praise your excellence,
 And set a double varnish on the fame
 The Frenchman gaue you, bring you in fine together,
 And wager on your heads, he being remisse,
 Most generous, and free from all contriuing,
 Will not peruse the Foiles? So that with ease,
 Or with a little shuffling, you may choose
 A Sword vnbaited, and in a passe of practice,
 Requit him for your Father
 
    Laer. I will doo't.
 And for that purpose Ile annoint my Sword:
 I bought an Vnction of a Mountebanke
 So mortall, I but dipt a knife in it,
 Where it drawes blood, no Cataplasme so rare,
 Collected from all Simples that haue Vertue
 Vnder the Moone, can saue the thing from death,
 That is but scratcht withall: Ile touch my point,
 With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly,
 It may be death
 
    Kin. Let's further thinke of this,
 Weigh what conuenience both of time and meanes
 May fit vs to our shape, if this should faile;
 And that our drift looke through our bad performance,
 'Twere better not assaid; therefore this Proiect
 Should haue a backe or second, that might hold,
 If this should blast in proofe: Soft, let me see
 Wee'l make a solemne wager on your commings,
 I ha't: when in your motion you are hot and dry,
 As make your bowts more violent to the end,
 And that he cals for drinke; Ile haue prepar'd him
 A Challice for the nonce; whereon but sipping,
 If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,
 Our purpose may hold there; how sweet Queene.
 Enter Queene.
 
   Queen. One woe doth tread vpon anothers heele,
 So fast they'l follow: your Sister's drown'd Laertes
 
    Laer. Drown'd! O where?
   Queen. There is a Willow growes aslant a Brooke,
 That shewes his hore leaues in the glassie streame:
 There with fantasticke Garlands did she come,
 Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daysies, and long Purples,
 That liberall Shepheards giue a grosser name;
 But our cold Maids doe Dead Mens Fingers call them:
 There on the pendant boughes, her Coronet weeds
 Clambring to hang; an enuious sliuer broke,
 When downe the weedy Trophies, and her selfe,
 Fell in the weeping Brooke, her cloathes spred wide,
 And Mermaid-like, a while they bore her vp,
 Which time she chaunted snatches of old tunes,
 As one incapable of her owne distresse,
 Or like a creature Natiue, and indued
 Vnto that Element: but long it could not be,
 Till that her garments, heauy with her drinke,
 Pul'd the poore wretch from her melodious buy,
 To muddy death
 
    Laer. Alas then, is she drown'd?
   Queen. Drown'd, drown'd
 
    Laer. Too much of water hast thou poore Ophelia,
 And therefore I forbid my teares: but yet
 It is our tricke, Nature her custome holds,
 Let shame say what it will; when these are gone
 The woman will be out: Adue my Lord,
 I haue a speech of fire, that faine would blaze,
 But that this folly doubts it.
 Enter.
 
   Kin. Let's follow, Gertrude:
 How much I had to doe to calme his rage?
 Now feare I this will giue it start againe;
 Therefore let's follow.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter two Clownes.
 
   Clown. Is she to bee buried in Christian buriall, that
 wilfully seekes her owne saluation?
   Other. I tell thee she is, and therefore make her Graue
 straight, the Crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian
 buriall
 
    Clo. How can that be, vnlesse she drowned her selfe in
 her owne defence?
   Other. Why 'tis found so
 
    Clo. It must be Se offendendo, it cannot bee else: for
 heere lies the point; If I drowne my selfe wittingly, it argues
 an Act: and an Act hath three branches. It is an
 Act to doe and to performe; argall she drown'd her selfe
 wittingly
 
    Other. Nay but heare you Goodman Deluer
 
    Clown. Giue me leaue; heere lies the water; good:
 heere stands the man; good: If the man goe to this water
 and drowne himselfe; it is will he nill he, he goes;
 marke you that? But if the water come to him & drowne
 him; hee drownes not himselfe. Argall, hee that is not
 guilty of his owne death, shortens not his owne life
 
    Other. But is this law?
   Clo. I marry is't, Crowners Quest Law
 
    Other. Will you ha the truth on't: if this had not
 beene a Gentlewoman, shee should haue beene buried
 out of Christian Buriall
 
    Clo. Why there thou say'st. And the more pitty that
 great folke should haue countenance in this world to
 drowne or hang themselues, more then their euen Christian.
 Come, my Spade; there is no ancient Gentlemen,
 but Gardiners, Ditchers and Graue-makers; they hold vp
 Adams Profession
 
    Other. Was he a Gentleman?
   Clo. He was the first that euer bore Armes
 
    Other. Why he had none
 
    Clo. What, ar't a Heathen? how doth thou vnderstand
 the Scripture? the Scripture sayes Adam dig'd;
 could hee digge without Armes? Ile put another question
 to thee; if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confesse
 thy selfe-
   Other. Go too
 
    Clo. What is he that builds stronger then either the
 Mason, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter?
   Other. The Gallowes maker; for that Frame outliues a
 thousand Tenants
 
    Clo. I like thy wit well in good faith, the Gallowes
 does well; but how does it well? it does well to those
 that doe ill: now, thou dost ill to say the Gallowes is
 built stronger then the Church: Argall, the Gallowes
 may doe well to thee. Too't againe, Come
 
    Other. Who builds stronger then a Mason, a Shipwright,
 or a Carpenter?
   Clo. I, tell me that, and vnyoake
 
    Other. Marry, now I can tell
 
    Clo. Too't
 
    Other. Masse, I cannot tell.
 Enter Hamlet and Horatio a farre off.
 
   Clo. Cudgell thy braines no more about it; for your
 dull Asse will not mend his pace with beating; and when
 you are ask't this question next, say a Graue-maker: the
 Houses that he makes, lasts till Doomesday: go, get thee
 to Yaughan, fetch me a stoupe of Liquor.
 
 Sings.
 
 In youth when I did loue, did loue,
 me thought it was very sweete:
 To contract O the time for a my behoue,
 O me thought there was nothing meete
 
    Ham. Ha's this fellow no feeling of his businesse, that
 he sings at Graue-making?
   Hor. Custome hath made it in him a property of easinesse
 
    Ham. 'Tis ee'n so; the hand of little Imployment hath
 the daintier sense
 
    Clowne sings. But Age with his stealing steps
 hath caught me in his clutch:
 And hath shipped me intill the Land,
 as if I had neuer beene such
 
    Ham. That Scull had a tongue in it, and could sing
 once: how the knaue iowles it to th' grownd, as if it
 were Caines Iaw-bone, that did the first murther: It
 might be the Pate of a Polititian which this Asse o're Offices:
 one that could circumuent God, might it not?
   Hor. It might, my Lord
 
    Ham. 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 prais'd my Lord such
 a ones Horse, when he meant to begge it; might it not?
   Hor. I, my Lord
 
    Ham. Why ee'n so: and now my Lady Wormes,
 Chaplesse, and knockt about the Mazard with a Sextons
 Spade; heere's fine Reuolution, if wee had the tricke to
 see't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but
 to play at Loggets with 'em? mine ake to thinke
 on't
 
    Clowne sings. A Pickhaxe and a Spade, a Spade,
 for and a shrowding-Sheete:
 O a Pit of Clay for to be made,
 for such a Guest is meete
 
    Ham. There's another: why might not that bee the
 Scull of a Lawyer? where be his Quiddits now? his
 Quillets? his Cases? his Tenures, and his Tricks? why
 doe's he suffer this rude knaue now to knocke him about
 the Sconce with a dirty Shouell, 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 Recoueries:
 Is this the fine of his Fines, and the recouery of his Recoueries,
 to haue his fine Pate full of fine Dirt? will his
 Vouchers vouch him no more of his Purchases, and double
 ones too, then the length and breadth of a paire of
 Indentures? the very Conueyances of his Lands will
 hardly lye in this Boxe; and must the Inheritor himselfe
 haue no more? ha?
   Hor. Not a iot more, my Lord
 
    Ham. Is not Parchment made of Sheep-skinnes?
   Hor. I my Lord, and of Calue-skinnes too
 
    Ham. They are Sheepe and Calues that seek out assurance
 in that. I will speake to this fellow: whose Graue's
 this Sir?
   Clo. Mine Sir:
 O a Pit of Clay for to be made,
 for such a Guest is meete
 
    Ham. I thinke it be thine indeed: for thou liest in't
 
    Clo. You lye out on't Sir, and therefore it is not yours:
 for my part, I doe not lye in't; and yet it is mine
 
    Ham. Thou dost lye in't, to be in't and say 'tis thine:
 'tis for the dead, not for the quicke, therefore thou
 lyest
 
    Clo. 'Tis a quicke lye Sir, 'twill away againe from me
 to you
 
    Ham. What man dost thou digge it for?
   Clo. For no man Sir
 
    Ham. What woman then?
   Clo. For none neither
 
    Ham. Who is to be buried in't?
   Clo. One that was a woman Sir; but rest her Soule,
 shee's dead
 
    Ham. How absolute the knaue is? wee must speake
 by the Carde, or equiuocation will vndoe vs: by the
 Lord Horatio, these three yeares I haue taken note of it,
 the Age is growne so picked, that the toe of the Pesant
 comes so neere the heeles of our Courtier, hee galls his
 Kibe. How long hast thou been a Graue-maker?
   Clo. Of all the dayes i'th' yeare, I came too't that day
 that our last King Hamlet o'recame Fortinbras
 
    Ham. How long is that since?
   Clo. Cannot you tell that? euery foole can tell that:
 It was the very day, that young Hamlet was borne, hee
 that was mad, and sent into England
 
    Ham. I marry, why was he sent into England?
   Clo. Why, because he was mad; hee shall recouer his
 wits there; or if he do not, it's no great matter there
 
    Ham. Why?
   Clo. 'Twill not be seene in him, there the men are as
 mad as he
 
    Ham. How came he mad?
   Clo. Very strangely they say
 
    Ham. How strangely?
   Clo. Faith e'ene with loosing his wits
 
    Ham. Vpon what ground?
   Clo. Why heere in Denmarke: I haue bin sixeteene
 heere, man and Boy thirty yeares
 
    Ham. How long will a man lie i'th' earth ere he rot?
   Clo. Ifaith, if he be not rotten before he die (as we haue
 many pocky Coarses now adaies, that will scarce hold
 the laying in) he will last you some eight yeare, or nine
 yeare. A Tanner will last you nine yeare
 
    Ham. Why he, more then another?
   Clo. Why sir, his hide is so tan'd with his Trade, that
 he will keepe out water a great while. And your water,
 is a sore Decayer of your horson dead body. Heres a Scull
 now: this Scul, has laine in the earth three & twenty years
 
    Ham. Whose was it?
   Clo. A whoreson mad Fellowes it was;
 Whose doe you thinke it was?
   Ham. Nay, I know not
 
    Clo. A pestilence on him for a mad Rogue, a pour'd a
 Flaggon of Renish on my head once. This same Scull
 Sir, this same Scull sir, was Yoricks Scull, the Kings Iester
 
    Ham. This?
   Clo. E'ene that
 
    Ham. Let me see. Alas poore Yorick, I knew him Horatio,
 a fellow of infinite Iest; of most excellent fancy, he
 hath borne me on his backe a thousand times: And how
 abhorred my Imagination is, my gorge rises at it. Heere
 hung those lipps, that I haue kist I know not how oft.
 Where be your Iibes now? Your Gambals? Your
 Songs? Your flashes of Merriment that were wont to
 set the Table on a Rore? No one now to mock your own
 Ieering? Quite chopfalne? Now get you to my Ladies
 Chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this
 fauour she must come. Make her laugh at that: prythee
 Horatio tell me one thing
 
    Hor. What's that my Lord?
   Ham. Dost thou thinke Alexander lookt o'this fashion
 i'th' earth?
   Hor. E'ene so
 
    Ham. And smelt so? Puh
 
    Hor. E'ene so, my Lord
 
    Ham. To what base vses we may returne Horatio.
 Why may not Imagination trace the Noble dust of Alexander,
 till he find it stopping a bunghole
 
    Hor. 'Twere to consider: to curiously to consider so
 
    Ham. No faith, not a iot. But to follow him thether
 with modestie enough, & likeliehood to lead it; as thus.
 Alexander died: Alexander was buried: Alexander returneth
 into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make
 Lome, and why of that Lome (whereto he was conuerted)
 might they not stopp a Beere-barrell?
 Imperiall Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,
 Might stop a hole to keepe the winde away.
 Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,
 Should patch a Wall, t' expell the winters flaw.
 But soft, but soft, aside; heere comes the King.
 Enter King, Queene, Laertes, and a Coffin, with Lords attendant.
 
 The Queene, the Courtiers. Who is that they follow,
 And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken,
 The Coarse they follow, did with disperate hand,
 Fore do it owne life; 'twas some Estate.
 Couch we a while, and mark
 
    Laer. What Cerimony else?
   Ham. That is Laertes, a very Noble youth: Marke
 
    Laer. What Cerimony else?
   Priest. Her Obsequies haue bin as farre inlarg'd.
 As we haue warrantie, her death was doubtfull,
 And but that great Command, o're-swaies the order,
 She should in ground vnsanctified haue lodg'd,
 Till the last Trumpet. For charitable praier,
 Shardes, Flints, and Peebles, should be throwne on her:
 Yet heere she is allowed her Virgin Rites,
 Her Maiden strewments, and the bringing home
 Of Bell and Buriall
 
    Laer. Must there no more be done ?
   Priest. No more be done:
 We should prophane the seruice of the dead,
 To sing sage Requiem, and such rest to her
 As to peace-parted Soules
 
    Laer. Lay her i'th' earth,
 And from her faire and vnpolluted flesh,
 May Violets spring. I tell thee (churlish Priest)
 A Ministring Angell shall my Sister be,
 When thou liest howling?
   Ham. What, the faire Ophelia?
   Queene. Sweets, to the sweet farewell.
 I hop'd thou should'st haue bin my Hamlets wife:
 I thought thy Bride-bed to haue deckt (sweet Maid)
 And not t'haue strew'd thy Graue
 
    Laer. Oh terrible woer,
 Fall ten times trebble, on that cursed head
 Whose wicked deed, thy most Ingenious sence
 Depriu'd thee of. Hold off the earth a while,
 Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes:
 
 Leaps in the graue.
 
 Now pile your dust, vpon the quicke, and dead,
 Till of this flat a Mountaine you haue made,
 To o're top old Pelion, or the skyish head
 Of blew Olympus
 
    Ham. What is he, whose griefes
 Beares such an Emphasis? whose phrase of Sorrow
 Coniure the wandring Starres, and makes them stand
 Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
 Hamlet the Dane
 
    Laer. The deuill take thy soule
 
    Ham. Thou prai'st not well,
 I prythee take thy fingers from my throat;
 Sir though I am not Spleenatiue, and rash,
 Yet haue I something in me dangerous,
 Which let thy wisenesse feare. Away thy hand
 
    King. Pluck them asunder
 
    Qu. Hamlet, Hamlet
 
    Gen. Good my Lord be quiet
 
    Ham. Why I will fight with him vppon this Theme.
 Vntill my eielids will no longer wag
 
    Qu. Oh my Sonne, what Theame?
   Ham. I lou'd Ophelia; fortie thousand Brothers
 Could not (with all there quantitie of Loue)
 Make vp my summe. What wilt thou do for her?
   King. Oh he is mad Laertes,
   Qu. For loue of God forbeare him
 
    Ham. Come show me what thou'lt doe.
 Woo't weepe? Woo't fight? Woo't teare thy selfe?
 Woo't drinke vp Esile, eate a Crocodile?
 Ile doo't. Dost thou come heere to whine;
 To outface me with leaping in her Graue?
 Be buried quicke with her, and so will I.
 And if thou prate of Mountaines; let them throw
 Millions of Akers on vs; till our ground
 Sindging his pate against the burning Zone,
 Make Ossa like a wart. Nay, and thou'lt mouth,
 Ile rant as well as thou
 
    Kin. This is meere Madnesse:
 And thus awhile the fit will worke on him:
 Anon as patient as the female Doue,
 When that her Golden Cuplet are disclos'd;
 His silence will sit drooping
 
    Ham. Heare you Sir:
 What is the reason that you vse me thus?
 I lou'd you euer; but it is no matter:
 Let Hercules himselfe doe what he may,
 The Cat will Mew, and Dogge will haue his day.
 Enter.
 
   Kin. I pray you good Horatio wait vpon him,
 Strengthen your patience in our last nights speech,
 Wee'l put the matter to the present push:
 Good Gertrude set some watch ouer your Sonne,
 This Graue shall haue a liuing Monument:
 An houre of quiet shortly shall we see;
 Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
 
 Exeunt.
 
 Enter Hamlet and Horatio
 
    Ham. So much for this Sir; now let me see the other,
 You doe remember all the Circumstance
 
    Hor. Remember it my Lord?
   Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kinde of fighting,
 That would not let me sleepe; me thought I lay
 Worse then the mutines in the Bilboes, rashly,
 (And praise be rashnesse for it) let vs know,
 Our indiscretion sometimes serues vs well,
 When our deare plots do paule, and that should teach vs,
 There's a Diuinity that shapes our ends,
 Rough-hew them how we will
 
    Hor. That is most certaine
 
    Ham. Vp from my Cabin
 My sea-gowne scarft about me in the darke,
 Grop'd I to finde out them; had my desire,
 Finger'd their Packet, and in fine, withdrew
 To mine owne roome againe, making so bold,
 (My feares forgetting manners) to vnseale
 Their grand Commission, where I found Horatio,
 Oh royall knauery: An exact command,
 Larded with many seuerall sorts of reason;
 Importing Denmarks health, and Englands too,
 With hoo, such Bugges and Goblins in my life,
 That on the superuize no leasure bated,
 No not to stay the grinding of the Axe,
 My head should be struck off
 
    Hor. Ist possible?
   Ham. Here's the Commission, read it at more leysure:
 But wilt thou heare me how I did proceed?
   Hor. I beseech you
 
    Ham. Being thus benetted round with Villaines,
 Ere I could make a Prologue to my braines,
 They had begun the Play. I sate me downe,
 Deuis'd a new Commission, wrote it faire,
 I once did hold it as our Statists doe,
 A basenesse to write faire; and laboured much
 How to forget that learning: but Sir now,
 It did me Yeomans seriuce: wilt thou know
 The effects of what I wrote?
   Hor. I, good my Lord
 
    Ham. An earnest Coniuration from the King,
 As England was his faithfull Tributary,
 As loue betweene them, as the Palme should flourish,
 As Peace should still her wheaten Garland weare,
 And stand a Comma 'tweene their amities,
 And many such like Assis of great charge,
 That on the view and know of these Contents,
 Without debatement further, more or lesse,
 He should the bearers put to sodaine death,
 Not shriuing time allowed
 
    Hor. How was this seal'd?
   Ham. Why, euen in that was Heauen ordinate;
 I had my fathers Signet in my Purse,
 Which was the Modell of that Danish Seale:
 Folded the Writ vp in forme of the other,
 Subscrib'd it, gau't th' impression, plac't it safely,
 The changeling neuer knowne: Now, the next day
 Was our Sea Fight, and what to this was sement,
 Thou know'st already
 
    Hor. So Guildensterne and Rosincrance, go too't
 
    Ham. Why man, they did make loue to this imployment
 They are not neere my Conscience; their debate
 Doth by their owne insinuation grow:
 'Tis dangerous, when the baser nature comes
 Betweene the passe, and fell incensed points
 Of mighty opposites
 
    Hor. Why, what a King is this?
   Ham. Does it not, thinkst thee, stand me now vpon
 He that hath kil'd my King, and whor'd my Mother,
 Popt in betweene th' election and my hopes,
 Throwne out his Angle for my proper life,
 And with such coozenage; is't not perfect conscience,
 To quit him with this arme? And is't not to be damn'd
 To let this Canker of our nature come
 In further euill
 
    Hor. It must be shortly knowne to him from England
 What is the issue of the businesse there
 
    Ham. It will be short,
 The interim's mine, and a mans life's no more
 Then to say one: but I am very sorry good Horatio,
 That to Laertes I forgot my selfe;
 For by the image of my Cause, I see
 The Portraiture of his; Ile count his fauours:
 But sure the brauery of his griefe did put me
 Into a Towring passion
 
    Hor. Peace, who comes heere?
 Enter young Osricke.
 
   Osr. Your Lordship is right welcome back to Denmarke
 
    Ham. I humbly thank you Sir, dost know this waterflie?
   Hor. No my good Lord
 
    Ham. 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 Kings
 Messe; 'tis a Chowgh; but as I saw spacious in the possession
 of dirt
 
    Osr. Sweet Lord, if your friendship were at leysure,
 I should impart a thing to you from his Maiesty
 
    Ham. I will receiue it with all diligence of spirit; put
 your Bonet to his right vse, 'tis for the head
 
    Osr. I thanke your Lordship, 'tis very hot
 
    Ham. No, beleeue mee 'tis very cold, the winde is
 Northerly
 
    Osr. It is indifferent cold my Lord indeed
 
    Ham. Mee thinkes it is very soultry, and hot for my
 Complexion
 
    Osr. Exceedingly, my Lord, it is very soultry, as 'twere
 I cannot tell how: but my Lord, his Maiesty bad me signifie
 to you, that he ha's laid a great wager on your head:
 Sir, this is the matter
 
    Ham. I beseech you remember
 
    Osr. Nay, in good faith, for mine ease in good faith:
 Sir, you are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is at
 his weapon
 
    Ham. What's his weapon?
   Osr. Rapier and dagger
 
    Ham. That's two of his weapons; but well
 
    Osr. The sir King ha's wag'd with him six Barbary horses,
 against the which he impon'd as I take it, sixe French
 Rapiers and Poniards, with their assignes, as Girdle,
 Hangers or so: three of the Carriages infaith are very
 deare to fancy, very responsiue to the hilts, most delicate
 carriages, and of very liberall conceit
 
    Ham. What call you the Carriages?
   Osr. The Carriages Sir, are the hangers
 
    Ham. The phrase would bee more Germaine to the
 matter: If we could carry Cannon by our sides; I would
 it might be Hangers till then; but on sixe Barbary Horses
 against sixe French Swords: their Assignes, and three
 liberall conceited Carriages, that's the French but against
 the Danish; why is this impon'd as you call it?
   Osr. The King Sir, hath laid that in a dozen passes betweene
 you and him, hee shall not exceed you three hits;
 He hath one twelue for mine, and that would come to
 imediate tryall, if your Lordship would vouchsafe the
 Answere
 
    Ham. How if I answere no?
   Osr. I meane my Lord, the opposition of your person
 in tryall
 
    Ham. Sir, I will walke heere in the Hall; if it please
 his Maiestie, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; let
 the Foyles bee brought, the Gentleman willing, and the
 King hold his purpose; I will win for him if I can: if
 not, Ile gaine nothing but my shame, and the odde hits
 
    Osr. Shall I redeliuer you ee'n so?
   Ham. To this effect Sir, after what flourish your nature
 will
 
    Osr. I commend my duty to your Lordship
 
    Ham. Yours, yours; hee does well to commend it
 himselfe, there are no tongues else for's tongue
 
    Hor. This Lapwing runs away with the shell on his
 head
 
    Ham. He did Complie with his Dugge before hee
 suck't it: thus had he and mine more of the same Beauty
 that I know the drossie age dotes on; only got the tune of
 the time, and outward habite of encounter, a kinde of
 yesty collection, which carries them through & through
 the most fond and winnowed opinions; and doe but blow
 them to their tryalls: the Bubbles are out
 
    Hor. You will lose this wager, my Lord
 
    Ham. I doe not thinke so, since he went into France,
 I haue beene in continuall practice; I shall winne at the
 oddes: but thou wouldest not thinke how all heere about
 my heart: but it is no matter
 
    Hor. Nay, good my Lord
 
    Ham. It is but foolery; but it is such a kinde of
 gain-giuing as would perhaps trouble a woman
 
    Hor. If your minde dislike any thing, obey. I will forestall
 their repaire hither, and say you are not fit
 
    Ham. Not a whit, we defie Augury; there's a speciall
 Prouidence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not
 to come: if it bee not to come, it will bee now: if it
 be not now; yet it will come; the readinesse is all, since no
 man ha's ought of what he leaues. What is't to leaue betimes?
 Enter King, Queene, Laertes and Lords, with other Attendants with
 Foyles,
 and Gauntlets, a Table and Flagons of Wine on it.
 
   Kin. Come Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me
 
    Ham. Giue me your pardon Sir, I'ue done you wrong,
 But pardon't as you are a Gentleman.
 This presence knowes,
 And you must needs haue heard how I am punisht
 With sore distraction? What I haue done
 That might your nature honour, and exception
 Roughly awake, I heere proclaime was madnesse:
 Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Neuer Hamlet.
 If Hamlet from himselfe be tane away:
 And when he's not himselfe, do's wrong Laertes,
 Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it:
 Who does it then? His Madnesse? If't be so,
 Hamlet is of the Faction that is wrong'd,
 His madnesse is poore Hamlets Enemy.
 Sir, in this Audience,
 Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd euill,
 Free me so farre in your most generous thoughts,
 That I haue shot mine Arrow o're the house,
 And hurt my Mother
 
    Laer. I am satisfied in Nature,
 Whose motiue in this case should stirre me most
 To my Reuenge. But in my termes of Honor
 I stand aloofe, and will no reconcilement,
 Till by some elder Masters of knowne Honor,
 I haue a voyce, and president of peace
 To keepe my name vngorg'd. But till that time,
 I do receiue your offer'd loue like loue,
 And wil not wrong it
 
    Ham. I do embrace it freely,
 And will this Brothers wager frankely play.
 Giue vs the Foyles: Come on
 
    Laer. Come one for me
 
    Ham. Ile be your foile Laertes, in mine ignorance,
 Your Skill shall like a Starre i'th' darkest night,
 Sticke fiery off indeede
 
    Laer. You mocke me Sir
 
    Ham. No by this hand
 
    King. Giue them the Foyles yong Osricke,
 Cousen Hamlet, you know the wager
 
    Ham. Verie well my Lord,
 Your Grace hath laide the oddes a'th' weaker side
 
    King. I do not feare it,
 I haue seene you both:
 But since he is better'd, we haue therefore oddes
 
    Laer. This is too heauy,
 Let me see another
 
    Ham. This likes me well,
 These Foyles haue all a length.
 
 Prepare to play.
 
   Osricke. I my good Lord
 
    King. Set me the Stopes of wine vpon that Table:
 If Hamlet giue the first, or second hit,
 Or quit in answer of the third exchange,
 Let all the Battlements their Ordinance fire,
 The King shal drinke to Hamlets better breath,
 And in the Cup an vnion shal he throw
 Richer then that, which foure successiue Kings
 In Denmarkes Crowne haue worne.
 Giue me the Cups,
 And let the Kettle to the Trumpets speake,
 The Trumpet to the Cannoneer without,
 The Cannons to the Heauens, the Heauen to Earth,
 Now the King drinkes to Hamlet. Come, begin,
 And you the Iudges beare a wary eye
 
    Ham. Come on sir
 
    Laer. Come on sir.
 
 They play.
 
   Ham. One
 
    Laer. No
 
    Ham. Iudgement
 
    Osr. A hit, a very palpable hit
 
    Laer. Well: againe
 
    King. Stay, giue me drinke.
 Hamlet, this Pearle is thine,
 Here's to thy health. Giue him the cup,
 
 Trumpets sound, and shot goes off.
 
   Ham. Ile play this bout first, set by a-while.
 Come: Another hit; what say you?
   Laer. A touch, a touch, I do confesse
 
    King. Our Sonne shall win
 
    Qu. He's fat, and scant of breath.
 Heere's a Napkin, rub thy browes,
 The Queene Carowses to thy fortune, Hamlet
 
    Ham. Good Madam
 
    King. Gertrude, do not drinke
 
    Qu. I will my Lord;
 I pray you pardon me
 
    King. It is the poyson'd Cup, it is too late
 
    Ham. I dare not drinke yet Madam,
 By and by
 
    Qu. Come, let me wipe thy face
 
    Laer. My Lord, Ile hit him now
 
    King. I do not thinke't
 
    Laer. And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience
 
    Ham. Come for the third.
 Laertes, you but dally,
 I pray you passe with your best violence,
 I am affear'd you make a wanton of me
 
    Laer. Say you so? Come on.
 
 Play.
 
   Osr. Nothing neither way
 
    Laer. Haue at you now.
 
 In scuffling they change Rapiers.
 
   King. Part them, they are incens'd
 
    Ham. Nay come, againe
 
    Osr. Looke to the Queene there hoa
 
    Hor. They bleed on both sides. How is't my Lord?
   Osr. How is't Laertes?
   Laer. Why as a Woodcocke
 To mine Sprindge, Osricke,
 I am iustly kill'd with mine owne Treacherie
 
    Ham. How does the Queene?
   King. She sounds to see them bleede
 
    Qu. No, no, the drinke, the drinke.
 Oh my deere Hamlet, the drinke, the drinke,
 I am poyson'd
 
    Ham. Oh Villany! How? Let the doore be lock'd.
 Treacherie, seeke it out
 
    Laer. It is heere Hamlet.
 Hamlet, thou art slaine,
 No Medicine in the world can do thee good.
 In thee, there is not halfe an houre of life;
 The Treacherous Instrument is in thy hand,
 Vnbated and envenom'd: the foule practise
 Hath turn'd it selfe on me. Loe, heere I lye,
 Neuer to rise againe: Thy Mothers poyson'd:
 I can no more, the King, the King's too blame
 
    Ham. The point envenom'd too,
 Then venome to thy worke.
 
 Hurts the King.
 
   All. Treason, Treason
 
    King. O yet defend me Friends, I am but hurt
 
    Ham. Heere thou incestuous, murdrous,
 Damned Dane,
 Drinke off this Potion: Is thy Vnion heere?
 Follow my Mother.
 
 King Dyes.
 
   Laer. He is iustly seru'd.
 It is a poyson temp'red by himselfe:
 Exchange forgiuenesse with me, Noble Hamlet;
 Mine and my Fathers death come not vpon thee,
 Nor thine on me.
 
 Dyes.
 
   Ham. Heauen make thee free of it, I follow thee.
 I am dead Horatio, wretched Queene adiew,
 You that looke pale, and tremble at this chance,
 That are but Mutes or audience to this acte:
 Had I but time (as this fell Sergeant death
 Is strick'd in his Arrest) oh I could tell you.
 But let it be: Horatio, I am dead,
 Thou liu'st, report me and my causes right
 To the vnsatisfied
 
    Hor. Neuer beleeue it.
 I am more an Antike Roman then a Dane:
 Heere's yet some Liquor left
 
    Ham. As th'art a man, giue me the Cup.
 Let go, by Heauen Ile haue't.
 Oh good Horatio, what a wounded name,
 (Things standing thus vnknowne) shall liue behind me.
 If thou did'st euer hold me in thy heart,
 Absent thee from felicitie awhile,
 And in this harsh world draw thy breath in paine,
 To tell my Storie.
 
 March afarre off, and shout within.
 
 What warlike noyse is this?
 Enter Osricke.
 
   Osr. Yong Fortinbras, with conquest come fro[m] Poland
 To th' Ambassadors of England giues this warlike volly
 
    Ham. O I dye Horatio:
 The potent poyson quite ore-crowes my spirit,
 I cannot liue to heare the Newes from England,
 But I do prophesie th' election lights
 On Fortinbras, he ha's my dying voyce,
 So tell him with the occurrents more and lesse,
 Which haue solicited. The rest is silence. O, o, o, o.
 
 Dyes
 
   Hora. Now cracke a Noble heart:
 Goodnight sweet Prince,
 And flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest,
 Why do's the Drumme come hither?
 Enter Fortinbras and English Ambassador, with Drumme, Colours,
 and
 Attendants.
 
   Fortin. Where is this sight?
   Hor. What is it ye would see;
 If ought of woe, or wonder, cease your search
 
    For. His quarry cries on hauocke. Oh proud death,
 What feast is toward in thine eternall Cell.
 That thou so many Princes, at a shoote,
 So bloodily hast strooke
 
    Amb. The sight is dismall,
 And our affaires from England come too late,
 The eares are senselesse that should giue vs hearing,
 To tell him his command'ment is fulfill'd,
 That Rosincrance and Guildensterne are dead:
 Where should we haue our thankes?
   Hor. Not from his mouth,
 Had it th' abilitie of life to thanke you:
 He neuer gaue command'ment for their death.
 But since so iumpe vpon this bloodie question,
 You from the Polake warres, and you from England
 Are heere arriued. Giue order that these bodies
 High on a stage be placed to the view,
 And let me speake to th' yet vnknowing world,
 How these things came about. So shall you heare
 Of carnall, bloudie, and vnnaturall acts,
 Of accidentall iudgements, casuall slaughters
 Of death's put on by cunning, and forc'd cause,
 And in this vpshot, purposes mistooke,
 Falne on the Inuentors head. All this can I
 Truly deliuer
 
    For. Let vs hast to heare it,
 And call the Noblest to the Audience.
 For me, with sorrow, I embrace my Fortune,
 I haue some Rites of memory in this Kingdome,
 Which are to claime, my vantage doth
 Inuite me,
   Hor. Of that I shall haue alwayes cause to speake,
 And from his mouth
 Whose voyce will draw on more:
 But let this same be presently perform'd,
 Euen whiles mens mindes are wilde,
 Lest more mischance
 On plots, and errors happen
 
    For. Let foure Captaines
 Beare Hamlet like a Soldier to the Stage,
 For he was likely, had he beene put on
 To haue prou'd most royally:
 And for his passage,
 The Souldiours Musicke, and the rites of Warre
 Speake lowdly for him.
 Take vp the body; Such a sight as this
 Becomes the Field, but heere shewes much amis.
 Go, bid the Souldiers shoote.
 
 Exeunt. Marching: after the which, a Peale of Ordenance are shot
 off.
 
 
 FINIS. The tragedie of HAMLET, Prince of Denmarke.