The tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmarke: an electronic edition. Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. National Endowment for the Humanities. Joint Information Systems Committee. Manuscript annotations encoded and checked by British Library
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 Transcription of the printed text and annotations created from digital images of the British Library copy of the 1611 quarto. Annotations were checked against the original. Title page is absent. Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. Hamlet The tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmarke S111103 6182589 1009085 BL C.71.b.2 British Library This hand appears in a single annotation on the blank page facing the first page of text. This nineteenth-century hand appears in an annotation on blank page facing first page of text. This nineteenth-century hand appears in the library housekeeping annotation ‘C.59.k.8’ on blank page facing first page of text. This nineteenth-century hand appears in the library housekeeping line crossing through superseded shelfmark and new shelfmark ‘C.71.b.2’. This eighteenth-century hand appears only in the date added at top of first page of text (B1r). This nineteenth-century hand appears only in the annotation on first page of text (B1r). This eighteenth-century hand appears only in the number at the foot of the first page of text (B1r). This eighteenth-century hand appears only in the annotation on leaf F4r. This eighteenth-century hand appears only in the annotations on leaf O2r only, right at the end of the text.

In an 18th-century English brown half calf binding, the boards covered with marbled paper. The spine is damaged, showing traces of gold tooling and the words “TRAGEDY OF HAMLET” up the flat spine. With plain paper endleaves. Repaired by the British Library Bindery.

Red ink stamp MVSEVM BRITANNICUM within an octagonal frame on facsimile image 005a.

Red ink stamp MVSEVM BRITANNICUM within an octagonal frame on facsimile image 054a.

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This addition is circled in pencil.1611 edit Dup. of C.34 k.4 C.59.k.8. C.71. b.2.

1611Shakespeare (W.)KThe Tragedie of HAMLETPrince of Denmarke. Enter Bernardo, and Francisco, two Centinels. Bar. VVHose there? Fran. Nay answer me. Stand and vnfold your selfe. Bar. Long liue the King. Fran. Barnardo. Bar. Hee. Fran. You come most carefully vpon your houre, Bar. Tis now strooke twelue, get thee to bed Francisco. Fran. For this reliefe much thanks, tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart. Bar. Haue you had quiet guard? Fran. Not a Mouse stirring. Bar. Well, good night: If you doe meete Horatio and Marcellus, The riuals of my watch, bid them make hast. Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Fran. I thinke I heare them, stand ho, who is there? Hora. Friends to this ground. Mar. And Leegemen to the Dane, Fran. Giue you good night. Mar. O, farewell honest souldiers, who hath relieu'd you? Fran. Bernardo hath my place; giue you good night.Exit Fran. 2283 B Mar. The Tragedy of Hamlet Mar. Holla, Barnardo, Bar. Say what is Horatio there? Hora. A peece of him, Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus, Hora. What ha's this thing appeard againe to night? Bar. I haue seene nothing. Mar. Horatio sayes tis but a 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 minuts of this night, That if againe this apparition come, Hee may approue our eyes and speake to it. Hora. Tush, tush, twill not appeare. Bar. Sit downe awhile, And let vs once againe assaile your eares, That are so fortified against our story, What wee haue two nights seene. Hora. Well sit wee downe, And let vs heare Barnardo speake of this. Bar. Last night of all, When yond same starre thats 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. Enter Ghost. Mar. Peace, breake thee off looke where it comes a­ (gaine, Bar. In the same figure like the King thats dead. Mar. Thou art a Scholler speake to it Horatio. Hora. Most like, it horrowes me with feare & wonder. Bar. It would be spoke to. Mar. Speake to it Horatio. Hora. What art thou that vsurpst 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 the speake. Mar. It is offended. Bar. See it staukes away. .Hora Prince of Denmarke. Hora. Stay, speake, speake I charge thee speake.Exit Ghost. Ma. Tis gone and will not answere. Bar. How now Horatio, you tremble and looke pale, Is not this something more then phantasie? What thinke you of it? Hora. Before my God I might not this beleeue, Without the sencible and true auouch Of mine owne eyes. Mar. Isit not like the King? Hora. As thou art to thy selfe: Such was the very Armor hee had on, When hee the ambitious Norway combated, So frownde hee once when in an angry parle Hee smote the sleaded pollax on the ice. Tis strange. Mar. Thus twice before and iump at this dead houre, With Martiall stauke hath hee gone by our watch. Hora. In what perticular thought, to worke I know not, But in the grosse and scope of mine opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state. Mar. Good now sit downe, and tell me hee that knowes, Why this same strict and most obseruant watch So nightly toyles the subiect of the land, And with such dayly cost of brazen Cannon And forraine marte for implements of warre, Why such impresse of ship‐wrights, whose sore taske Does not deuide the Sunday from the weeke, What might bee toward, that this sweaty hast Doth make the night ioynt labourer with the day, Who ist that can informe mee? Hora. That can I. At least the whisper goes so, our last King, Whose image euen but now appea'd to vs, Was as you know by Fortinbrasse of Norway, Thereto prickt on by a most emulate pride Dar'd to the combate; in which our valiant Hamlet, (For so this side of our knowne world esteemd him) Did slay this Fortinbrasle, who by a seald compact Well ratified by law and Heraldry The Tragedy of Hamlet Did forfait (with his life) all these his lands Which hee stood seaz'd of, to the conquerour. Against the which a moity competent Was gaged by our King, which had returne To the inheritance of Fortinbrasse, Had hee beene vanquisher; as by the same comart, And carriage of the articles deseigne, His fell to Hamlet; now Sir, young Fortinbrasse Of vnimprooued mettle, hot and full, Hath in the skirts of Norway heere and there Sharkt vp a list of lawlesse resolutes For food and diet to some enterprise That hath a stomake in't, which no other As it doth well appeare vnto our state But to recouer of vs by strong hand And tearmes compulsatory, those foresaid lands So by his father lost; and this I take it, Is the maine motiue of our preparations The source of this our watch, and the cheefe head Of this post‐hast and romeage in the land. Bar. I thinke it be no other but euen so; Well may it sort that this portentous figure Comes armed through our watch so like the King That was and is the question of these warres. Hora. A moth it is to trouble the mindes eye: In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Iulius fell The graues stood tennantlesse, and the sheeted dead Did squeake and gibber in the Romane streets As starres with traines of fire, and dewes of bloud Disasters in the Sunne; and the moist starre, Vpon whose influence Neptunes Empier stands, Was sick almost to doomesday with eclipse. And euen the like precurse of fearce euents As harbingers preceading still the fates And prologue to the Omen comming on Haue heauen and earth together demonstrated Vnto our Climatures and contrimen. Enter Ghost. Prince of Denmarke. But soft, behold, lo where it comes againe Ile crosse it though it blast mee: stay illusion,It spreads his armes. If thou hast any sound or vse of voice, Speake to mee, if there be any good thing to bee done That may to thee doe ease and grace to mee, Speake to mee. If thou art priuy to thy contryes fate Which happily foreknowing may auoyd, O speake: Or if thou hast vphoorded in thy life Extorted treasure in the wombe of earth, For which they say your spirits oft walke in death.The Cocke crowes. Speake of it, stay and speake, stop it Marcellus. Mar. Shall I strike it with my partizan? Hor. Doe if it will not stand. Bar. Tis heere. Hor. Tis heere. Mar. Tis gone, We doe it wrong being so Maiesticall To offer it the showe of violence, For it is as the ayre, invulnerable, And our vaine blowes malicious mockery. Bar. It was about to speake when the cock crew: Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing, Vpon a fearefull summons; I haue heard, The Cock that is the trumpet to the morne, Doth with his lofty and shrill sounding throate Awake the God of day, and at his warning Whether in fea 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 Cock. Some say that euer gainst that season comes, Wherein our Sauiours birth is celebrated This bird of dawning singeth all night long, And then they say no spirit dare sturre abroade The nights are wholsome, then no plannets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charme B3 So The Tragedy of Hamlet So hallowed and so gratious is that time. Hor. So haue I heard and doe in part beleeue it, But looke the morne in russet mantle clad Walkes ore the dew of yon high Eastward hill: Breake wee our watch vp and by my aduise Let vs impart what wee haue seen to night Vnto yong Hamlet, for vpon my life This spirit dumb to vs, will speake to him: Doe you consent wee shall acquaint him with it As needfull in our loues fitting our duety. Mar. Lets doo't I pray, and I this morning know Where wee shall find him most conuenient. Exeunt. Florish. Enter Claudius, King of Denmarke, Gertrad the Queene, Counsaile: as Polonius, and his Sonne Laertes, Hamlet cum Aliis. Claud. Though yet of Hamlet our deare brothers death The memory bee greene, and that it vs befitted To beare our hearts in greefe and our whole kingdome, To be contracted in one browe of woe, Yet so farre hath discretion fought with nature, That wee with wisest sorrow thinke on him Together with remembrance of our selues: Therefore our sometime Sister, now our Queene Th'imperiall ioyntresse to this warlike state Haue wee as twere with a defeated ioy With an auspitious, and a dropping eye, With mirth in funerall, and with dirge in mariage, In equall scale waighing delight and dole Taken to wife: nor haue wee herein bard Your better wisdomes, which haue freely gone With this affaire along (for all our thankes) Now followes that you know yong Fortinbrasse, Holding a weake supposall of our worth Or thinking by our late deare brothers death Our state to bee disioynt, and out of frame Colegued with this dreame of his aduantage Hee hath not faild to pester vs with message Prince of Denmarke. Importing the surrender of those lands Lost by his father, with all bands of law To our most valiant brother, so much for him: Now for our selfe, and for this time of meeting, Thus much the busines is, we haue here writ To Norway Vncle of young Fortenbrasse Who impotent and bedred scarcely 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 Valtemand, For bearers of this greeting to old Norway Giuing to you no further personall power To busines with the King, more then the scope Of these delated articles allow: Farwell, and let your hast commend your duty. Cor. Vo. In that, and all things will we show our duty. King. We doubt it nothing, hartely farwell. And now Laertes whats the newes with you? You told vs of some sute, what ist Laertes? You cannot speake of reason to the Dane And lose your voyce; what would'st thou begge 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 os Denmarke to thy father, What would'st thou haue Laertes? Lar. My dread Lord. Your leaue and fauour to returne to France, From whence though willingly I came to Denmarke, To show my duty in your Coronation; Yet now I must confesse, that duty done My thoughts and wishes bend againe toward France, And bow them to your gracious leaue and pardon. King. Haue you your fathers leaue, what saies Polonius? Polo. He hath my Lord wrung from me my slow leaue By laboursome petition, and at last Vpon his will I seald my hard consent, The Tragedy of Hamlet I doe beseech you giue him leaue to goe. King. Take thy faire houre Laertes, time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will: But now my CosinHamlet, and my sonne. Ham. A little more then kin, and lesse then kinde. King. How is it that the clowdes still hang on you. Ham. Not so much my Lord, I am too much in the sonne. Queene. Good Hamlet cast thy nighted colour off And let thine eye looke like a friend on Denmarke, Doe not for euer with thy vailed lids, Seeke for thy noble Father in the dust, Thou know'st tis common all that liues must dye, Passing through nature to eternitie. Ham. I Maddam, it is common. Quee. If it bee Why seemes it so perticuler with thee. Ham. Seemes Maddam, nay it is, I know not seemes, Tis not alone my incky cloake could smother, Nor customary sutes of solemne black, Nor windie suspiration of forst breath, No, nor the fruitfull riuer in the eye, Nor the deiected hauior of the visage, Together with all formes, moodes, shapes of griefe That can deuote me truely, these indeed seeme, For they are actions that a man might play, But I haue that within which passes showe, These but the trappings and the suites of woe. King. Tis sweete and commendable in your nature Hamlet, To giue these mourning duties to your Father, But you must know your father lost a father, That fathcr lost, lost his, and the suruiuer bound In filliall obligation for some tearme To doe obsequious sorrowes, but to perseuer In obstinate condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornesse, tis vnmanly griese, It showes a will most incorrect to heauen, A hart vnfortified, or minde impatient, An vnderstanding simple and vnschoold, For what we know must be, and is as common Prince of Denmarke. As any the most vulgar thing to sence, Why should we in our peeuish opposition Take it to hart, fie, 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 cryed From the first course, till he that dyed to day This must be so: we pray you throw to earth This vnpreuailing woe, and thinke of vs As of a father, for let the world take note You are the most imediate to our throne, And with no lesse nobility of loue Then that which dearest father beares his sonne, Doe I impart toward you for your intent, In going back to schoole to Wittenberg, It is most retrogard to our desire, And we beseech you bend you to remaine Heere in the cheare and comfort of our eye, Our chiefest courtier, cosin, and our sonne. Quee. Let not thy mother loose her prayers Hamlet, I pray thee stay with vs, goe not to Wittenberg. Ham. I shall in all my best obay 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 clowdes shall tell. And the Kings rowse the heauen shall brute againe, Respeaking earthly thunder; come away. Florish. Exeunt all but Hamlet. Ham. O that this too too sallied flesh would melt, Thaw and resolue it selfe into a dew, Or that the euerlasting had not fixt His cannon gainst seale slaughter, ò God, God, How wary, stale, flat, and vnprofitable Seeme to me all the vses of this world? Fie on't, ah fie, tis an vnweeded garden, That growes to seed, things ranck and grose in nature, Possesse it meerely that it should come thus C But The Tragedie of Hamlet But two months dead, nay not so much, not two, So excellen a King, that was to this Hyperion to a Satire, so louing to my mother, That he might not beteeme the winds of heauen Visit her fae too roughly: heauen and earth Must I remmber, why she should hang on him As if increase of appetite had growne By what it ed 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 O God! a east that wants discourse of reason Would haue mourn'd longer, married with my Vncle, My fathers brother, but no more like my father Then I to Hercules, within a month, Ere yet the salt of most vnrighteous teares Had left the flushing in her gauled eyes She married Oh! most wicked speed; to post With such dexterity to incestious sheetes, It is not, nor it cannot come to good, But breake my heart for I must hold my tongue. Enter Horatio, Marcellus and Bernardo. Hora. Haile to your Lordshippe. Ham. I am glad to see you well; Horatio, or I do forget my (selfe. Hora. 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 WittenbergHoratio? Marcellus. Mar. My good Lord. Ham. I am very glad to see you, (good euen sir) But wha in faith make you from Wittenberg? Hora. A truant dispofition good my Lord. Ham. I would not heare your enemie say so, Nor shall you do my eare that violence To make it truster of your owne report Against your selfe, I know you are no truant, But what is you affaire in Elsonoure? Weele teach you sor to drinke ere you depart. Hora. Prince of Denmarke. Hora. My Lord, I came to see your fathers funerall. Ham. I prethee doe not mocke me fellow student, I thinke it was to my mothers wedding. Hora. Indeed my Lord it followed hard vpon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio, the funerall bak't meates Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables, Would I had met my dearest foe in Heauen Or euer I had seene that day Horatio. My father me thinkes I see my father. Hora. Where my Lord? Ham. In my mindes eye Horatio. Hora. I saw him once, a was a goodly King. Ham. A was a man take him for all in all I shall not looke vpon his like againe. Hora. My Lord I thinke I saw him yesternight. Ham. Saw, who? Hora. My Lord the King your father. Ham. The King my Father? Hora. Season your admiration for a while With an attentiue eare till I may deliuer Vpon the witnesse of these gentlemen This maruaile to you. Ham. For Gods loue let me heare? Hora. Two nights together had these gentlemen Marcellus, and Barnardo, on their watch, In the dead wast and middle of the night Beene thus incountred, a figure like your sather Armed at poynt, exactly Cap apea Appeares before them, and with solemne march, Goes slow and stately by them; thrice he walkt By their opprest and feare surprised eyes, Within this tronchions length, whil'st they distil'd Almost to gelly, with the act of feare Stand dumbe and speake not to him; this to me, In dreadfull secrecy impart they did, And I with them the third night kept the watch, Whereas they had deliuered both in time, Forme of the thing, each word made true and good, The Apparision comes: I knew your father, C2 These The Tragedie of Hamlet These hands are not more like. Ham. But where was this? Mar. My Lord vpon the platforme where wee watcht, Ham Did you not speake to it? Nora. My Lord I did, But answer made it none, yet once mee thought It lifted vp it head and did addresse It selfe to motion, like as it would speake: But euen then then the morning Cock crew loude, And at the sound it shruncke in hast away And vanisht from our sight. Ham. Tis very strange. Hora. As I doe liue my honor'd Lord tis true And wee did thinke it writ downe in our duety To let you know of it. Ham. Indeede sirs but this troubles me, Hold you the watch to night? All.. Wee doe my Lord. Ham. Arm'd say you? All. Arm'd my Lord. Ham. From top to toe? All. My Lord from head to foott. Ham Then saw you not his face? Hora. O yes my Lord, hee wore his beauer vp. Ham. What look't hee frowningly? Hora. A countenance more in sorrow then in anger. Ham. Pale or red? Hora. Nay very pale. Ham. And fixt his eyes vpon you? Hora. Most constantly, Ham. I would I had beene there. Hora. It would haue much amaz'd you. Ham. Very like, staid it long? Hora. While one with moderate hast might tell a hundreth, Both. Longer, longer. Hora. Not when I saw't. Ham. His beard was griss'ld, no. Hora. It was as I haue seene it in his life A sable siluer'd. Ham. Prince of Denmarke. Ham. I will watch to night Perchance twill walke againe. Hora. I warn't it will Ham. If it assume my noble fathers person, Ile speake to it though hell it selfe should gape And bid mee hold my peace; I pray you all If you haue hetherto conceald this sight Let it be tenable in your filence still, And what what soeuer els shall hap to night, Giue it an vnderstanding but no tongue, I will requite your loues, so fare you well: Vpon the platforme twixt a leauen and twelue Ile visit you. All Our duety to your homor. Exeunt. Ham. Your loues 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 deedes will rise Though all the earth ore‐whelme them to mens eyes, Exit, Enter Laertes and Ophelia his Sister. Laer. My necessaries are inbarckt, farewell, And sister as the winds giue benefit And conuay, in assistant do not sleepe But let me heare from you. Ophe. Doe you doubt that? Laer. For Hamlet and the trifling of his fauour, Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood, A Violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, The perfume and suppliance of a minute No more. Ophe, Mo more but so. Laer Thinke it no more. For nature cressant does not grow alone, In thewes and bulkes, but as this temple waxes The inward seruice of the mind soule Growes wide withall, perhaps hee loues you now, Ane now no soyle nor cautell doth besmerch The vettue of his will, but you must feare, C3 His The Tragedy of Hamlet His greatnes waid, his will is not his owne, He may not as vnualewed persons doe, Craue for himselfe, for on his choise depends The safety and health of this whole state, And therefore must his choise be circmscrib'd, Vnto the voyce and yeelding of that body, Whereof he is the head, then if he saies he loues you, It fits your wisdome so farre to beleeue it As he in his particuler act and place May giue his saying deede, which is no further, Then the maine voyce of Denmarke goes withall. Then way what losse your honor may sustaine, If with too credent eare you list his songs Or loose your heart, or your chast treasure open, To his vnmastred importunity. Feare it Ophelia, feare it my deare sister, And keepe you in the reare of your affection Out of the shot and danger of desire, ”The chariest maide is prodigall enough If she vnmaske her beauty to the Moone ”Vertue it selfe scapes not calumnious strokes ”The canker gaules the infant of the spring Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd, And in the morne and liquid dew of youth Contagious blastments are most iminent, Be wary then, best safety lies in feare, Youth to it selfe rebels though none else neare. Ophe, I shall the effect of this good lesson keepe, As watchmen to my heart, but good my brother Doe not as some vngracious pastors doe, Show me the steepe and thorny way to heauen Whiles a puft, and reckles libertine, Himselfe the primrose path of dalience treads. And reakes not his owne reed.Enter Polonius. Laer. O feare me not, I stay too long, but heere my father comes A double blessing, is a double grace, Occasion smiles vpon a second leaue. Pol. Yet here Laertes? a bord, a bord for shame, The Prince of Denmarke. The wind sits in the shoulder of your saile, And you are staied for, there my blessing with thee, And these few precepts in thy memory. Looke thou character, giue thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any vnproportion'd thought his act, Be thou familier, but by no meanes vulgar, Those friends thou hast and their adoption tried, Grapple them vnto thy soule with hoopes of steele, But do not dull thy palme with entertainement Of each new hatcht vnfledgd courage; beware Os entrance to a quarrell, but beeing in, Bear't that th'opposer may beware of thee. Giue euery man thy eare, but few thy voyce, Take each mans censure, but reserue thy iudgement, Costly thy habite as thy purse can buy, But not exprest in fancy; rich not gaudy, For the apparrell oft proclaimes the man: And they in France of the best ranck and station, Or of a most select and generous, cheefe in that: Neither a borrower nor a lender boy, For loue oft looses both it selfe, and friend, And borrowing dulleth the edge of husbandry: This aboue all, to thine owne selfe be true And ir must follow as the night the day Thou canst not then bee false to any man: Farewell, my blessing season this in thee. Laer. Most humbly do I take my leaue my Lord. Pol. The time inuests 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. FarewellExit. Laertes. Pol. Vhat ist Ophelia hee hath said to you? Ophe. So please you, fomething touching the Lord Hamlet. Pol. Marry well bethought Tis told me hee hath very oft of late Giuen priuate time to you, and you your selfe Haue of your audience beene most free and bountious, If The Tragedy of Hamlet 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 behooues my daughter and your honor, What is betweene you giue me vp the truth. Ophe. He hath my Lord of late made many tenders Of his affection to me. Pol. Affection, puh, you speake like a greene girle, Vnsifted in such perrilous circumstance, Doe you belieue his tenders, as you call them? Ophe. I doe not know my Lord what I should thinke. Pol. Marry I will teach you, thinke your selfe a babie, That you haue tane these tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling: tender your selfe more dearely Or (not to crack the winde of the poore phrase) Wrong it thus, youle tender me a foole. Ophe. My Lord he hath importun'd me with loue In honorable fashion. Pol. I, fashion you may call it, go to, go to. Ophe. And hath giuen countenance to his speech My Lord, with almost all the holy vowes of heauen. Pol. I, springs to catch wood‐cocks, I doe know When the blood burnes, how prodigall the soule Lends 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 tak't for fire: from this time Be some‐thing scanter of your maiden presence Set your intreatments at a higher rate Then a command to parle; for Lord Hamlet, Belieue so much in him, that he is young, And with a larger teder may he walke Then may be giuen you: in few Ophelia, Doe not belieue his vowes, for they are brokers Not of that die which their inuestments show But meere implorators of vnholy suites, Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds The better to beguile: this is for all, I would not in plaine termes from this time foorth Haue Prince of Denmarke. Haue you so slaunder any moments leasure 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, and Marcellus. Ham. The ayre bites shroudly, it is very colde. Hora. It is nipping, and an eager ayre. Ham. What hour now? Hora. I thinke it lackes of twelue. Mar. No, it is strooke Hor. Indeede; I heard it not, it then drawes neere the season, Wherein the spirit held his wont to walkeA Florish of trum­ pets and 2. peeces goes off. What does this meane my Lord? Ham. The King doth walke to night and takes his rowse. Keepes wassell and the swaggring vp‐spring reeles: And as he draines his drafts of Rennish downe, The kettle drumme and trumpet, thus bray out The triumph of his pledge. Hora. Is it a custome? Ham. I marry ist, But to my mind, though I am natiue heere And to the manner borne, it is a custome More honourd in the breach, then the obseruance. This heauy‐headed reuelle East and West Makes vs tradu'cd and taxed of other Nations, They clip vs drunkards and with swinish phrase Soyle our addition, and indeed it takes From our atchieuements, though perform'd at height The pith and marow of our attribute, So oft it chances in particuler men, That for some vitious mole of nature in them As in their birth wherein they are not guilty, (Sinc nature cannot choose his origen) By their ore‐grow'th of some complexion Oft breaking downe the Pales and Forts of reason, Or by some habite that too much ore‐leauens The forme of plausiue manners, that thse men Carrying I say the stamp of one defect D Being The Tragedy of Hamlet Being Natures liuery, or Fortunes starre, His Vertues els be they as pure as grace. As infinit as man may vndergoe, Shall in the generall censure take corruption From that particular fault: the dram of ease Doth all the noble substance of a doubt To his owne scandall, Enter Ghost. Hora. 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 intents 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, ò answere mee, Let mee not burst in ignorance, but tell Why thy Canoniz'd bones hearsed in death Haue burst their cerements? why the Sepulcher, Wherein wee saw thee quietly interr'd Hath op't his ponderous and marble iawes, To cast thee vp againe? what may this meane That thou dead corse, againe in compleat steele Reuisites thus the glimses of the Moone, Making night hideous, and wee fooles of nature So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughtes beyond the reaches of our soules, Say why is this, wherefore, what should wee doe?Beckons. Hora. It beckons you to goe away with it As if it some impartment did desire To you alone. Mar. Looke with what curteous action It waues you to a more remooued ground, But doe not goe with it. Hora. No, by no meanes. Ham. It will not speake, then I will follow it. Hora. Doe not my Lord. Ham. Why? what should bee the feare, I doe not set my life at a pinnes fee, Prince of Denmarke. 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. Hora. What if it tempt you towards the flood my Lord, Or to the dreadfull somnet of the cleefe That bettels ore his base into the sea, And there assume some other horrible forme Which might depriue your soueraignty of reason, And draw you into madnesse, thinke of it, The very place puts toyes of desperation Without more motiue, into euery braine That lookes so many fadoms to the sea And heares it rore beneath. Ham. It waues me still, Goe on, Ile follow thee. Mar. You shall not goe my Lord, Ham, Hold of your hands. Hora. Be rul'd, you shall not goe. Ham. My fate cries out And makes each petty artyre in this body As hardy as the Nemean Lyons nerue; Still am I cald, vnhand me Gentlemen By heauen Ile make a Ghost of him that lets me, I say away, goe one, Ile follow thee. Exit Ghost and Hamlet. Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination. Mar. Lets follow, tis not fit thus to obey him. Hora. Haue after, to what issue will this come? Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Denmarke. Hora. Heauen will direct it. Mar. Nay lets follow him. Exeunt, Enter Ghost and Hamlet. Ham. Whether wilt thou leade me, speake, Ile goe no further. Ghost. Marke me. Ham. I will. Ghost. My houre is almost come When I to sulphrous and tormenting flames Must render vp my selfe. Ham. Alasse poore Ghost, The Tragedy of Hamlet Ghost. Pitty me not, but lend thy serious hearing to what I shall vnfold. Ham. Speake I am bound to here, Ghost. So art thou to reuenge, when thou shalt heare. Ham. What? Ghost. I am thy fathers spirit, Doomd for a certaine tearme to walke the night, And for the day confind to fast in fires, Till the foule crimes done in my daies 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 vnfolde whose lightest word Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular haire to stand an end, Like quils vpon the fearefull Porpentine: But this eternall blazon must not be To eares of flesh and blood list, list, O list, If thou did'st euer thy deare father loue. Ham. O God. Ghost. 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 me to know't, that I with wings as swift, As meditation, or the thoughts of Loue May sweepe to my reuenge. Ghost I find thee apt, And duller shouldest thou be then the fat weede That rootes it selfe in ease on Lethe wharffe, Would'st thou not sturre in this; now Hamlet heare, Tis giuen out, that sleeping in my Orchard, A Serpent stung me, so the whole eare of Denmarke Is by a forged processe of my death Ranckely abused: but know thou noble Youth, The Serpent that did sting thy fathers life Now weares his Crowne. Ham. O my prophetike soule! my Vncle: Prince of Denmarke. Ghost. I that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchraft of his wits, with trayterous gifts, O wicked wit, and giftes that haue the power So to seduce; wonne to his shamfull lust The will of my most seeming vertuous Queene; O Hamlet, what falling off was there Ftom 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 natutall gifts were poore, To those of mine; but vertue as it neuer will be mooued, Though lewdnesse court it in a shape of heauen So but though to a radiant Angle linckt. Will sort it selfe in a celestiall bed And pray on garbage. But soft, me thinkes I scent the morning ayre, Briefe let me be; sleeping within my Orchard, My custome alwayes of the afternoone, Vpon my secure houre, thy Vncle stole With iuyce of cursed Hebona in a viall, And in the porches of my eares did poure, The leaprous distilment, whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man, That swift as quicksiluer it courses through The naturall gates and allies of the body, And with a sodaine vigour it doth possesse And curde like eager droppings into milke, The thin and wholsome blood; so did it mine, And a most instant tetter barkt about Most Lazerlike with vile and lothsome crust All my smooth body. Thus was I sleeping by a brothers hand, Of life, of Crowne, of Queene at once dispatcht, Cut off euen in the blossomes of my sinne, Vnnuzled, disappointed, vn‐anueld, No reckning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head, O horrible, O horrible, most horrible. If thou hast nature in thee beare it not, The Tragedy of Hamlet Let not the royall bed of Denmarke be A couch for luxury and damned incest. But how someuer thou pursues this act, Tain't not thy minde, 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 Gloworme shewes the matine to be neere And gins to pale his vneffectuall fire, Adiew, adiew, adiew, remember me. Ham. O all you host of heauen! O earth! what else, And shall I coupple hell, O fie! hold, my heart, And you my sinnowes; grow not instant old, But beare me swiftly vp; remember thee, I thou poore Ghost whiles 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 sawe of bookes, all formes, all pressures past That youth and obseruation coppied there, And thy commandement all alone shall liue, Within the booke and volume of my braine Vnmixt with baser matter, yes by heauen. O most prenicious woman. O villaine, villaine, smiling damned villaine, My tables, meet it is I set it downe That one may smile, and smile, and be a villaine. At least I am sure it may be so in Denmarke. So Vncle, there you are, now to my word. It is adew, adew, remember me. I haue sworn't. Enter Horatio, and Marcellus. Hora. My Lord, my Lord. Mar. Lord Hamlet. Hora. Heauens secure him. Ham. So be it. Mar. Illo, ho, ho, my Lord. Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy come, and come. Prince of Denmarke. Mar. How i'st my noble Lord? Hora. O, wonderfull! Hor. Good my Lord tell it. Ham. No, you will reueale it. Hora. Not I my Lord by heauen. Mar. Nor I my Lord. Ham. How say you then, would hart of man once thinke it, But you'le be secret. Both. I by heauen. Ham. There's neuer a villaine, Dwelling in all Denmarke But hee's an arrant knaue. Hora. There needs no Ghost my Lord, come from the graue To tell vs this. Ham. Why right, you are in the right, And so without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands and part, You, as your businesse and desire shall point you, For euery man hath businesse and desire Such as it is, and for my owne poore part I will goe pray. Hora. These are but wilde and whurling words my Lor Ham. I am sorry they offend you heartily, Yes faith hartily. Hora. There's no offence my Lord. Ham. Yes by Saint Patrick but there is Horatio, And much offence to, touching this vision heere, It is an honest Ghost, that let me tell you, For your desire to know what is betweene vs, Ore‐maister't as you may, and now good friends, As you are friends, schollers, and souldiers, Giue me one poore request. Hora. What i'st my Lord, we will. Ham. Neuer make knowne what you haue seene to night. Both. My Lord we will not. Ham. Nay but swear't. Hora. In faith my Lord not I. Mar. Nor I my Lord in faith. Ham. The Tragedy of Hamlet Ham. Vppon my sword. Mar. Wee haue sworne my Lord already. Ham. Indeed vppon my sword, indeed. Ghost cryes vnder the Stage. Ghost. Sweare. Ham. Ha, ha, boy, say'st thou so, art thou there true penny? Come on, you heare this fellow in the Sellerige, Consent to sweare. Hora. Propose the oath my Lord. Ham. Neuer to speake of this that you haue seene, Sweare by my sword. Ghost. Sweare, Ham hic, & vbique, then weele shift our ground: Come hether Gentlemen And lay your hands againe vpon my sword, Sweare by my sword Neuer to speake of this that you haue heard. Ghost. Sweare by his sword. Ham. Well said old Mole, canst worke it'h earth fo fast, A worthy Pioner once more remooue good friends. Hora. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange. Ham. And therefore as a stranger giue it welcome, There are more thinges in heauen and earth Horatio Then are dream't of in your Philosophy: but come Heere as before, neuer so helpe you mercy, (How strange or odde so mere I beare my selfe, As I perchance heereafter shall thinke meet, To put an Antike disposition on That you at such timesseeing mee, neuer shall With armes incombred thus, or this head shake, Or by pronouncing of some doubtfull phrase, As, well, well wee know, or wee could and if wee would, Or if wee list to speake, or there be and if they might, Or such ambiguous giuing out, to note) That you knowe ought of mee, this do sweare, So grace and mercy at your most neede helpe you. Ghost. Sweare. Ham. Rest, rest perturbed spirit: so Gentlemen, Prince of Denmarke. And what so poore a man as Hamlet is, May doe t'expresse his loue and frending to you God willing shall not lacke: let vs goe in together, And still your fingers on your lips I pray, The time is out of ioynt. O cursed spight! That euer I was borne to set it right. Nay come, lets goe together. Exeunt. Enter old Polonius, with his man or two. Pol. Giue him this mony, and these two notes Reynaldo. Rey. I will my Lord. Pol. You shall doe maruelous wisely good Reynaldo. Before you visite him, to make inquire, Of his behauiour. Rey. My Lord, I did intend it. Pol. Mary 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 encompasment and drift of question That they doe know my sonne, come you more neerer Then your perticuler demaunds will tuch it, Take you as t'were some distant knowledge of him, As thus, I know his father, and his friends, And in part him, doe you marke this Reynaldo? Rey. I, very well my Lord. Pol, And in part him, but you may say, not well, But y'ft be he I meane, hee's very wilde, Addicted so and so, and there put on him What forgeries you please, marry none so ranck 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 libertie. Rey. As gaming my Lord. Pol. I, or drinking, fencing, swearing, Quarrelling, drabbing, you may goe so farre. Rey. My Lord, that would dishonour him. Pol. Fayth as you may season it in the charge. E You The Tragedie of Hamlet You must not put another scandall on him, That he is open to incontinency, That's not my meaning, but breath his faults so quently That they may seeme the taints of liberty, The flash and out‐breake of a fiery mind, A sauagenes in vnreclamed blood, Of generall assault. Rey. But my good Lord. Pol. Wherefor should you doe this? Rey. I my Lord, I would know that. Pol. Marry sir, heer's my drift, And I beleeue it is a fetch of wit, You laying these slight sullies on my sonne As t'were a thing a little soyld with working, Marke you, your party in conuerse, him you would sound Hauing euer seene in the prenominat crimes The youth you breath of guilty, be assur'd He closes with you in this cosequence, Good sir, (or so,) or friend or Gentleman, According to the phrase, or the addition Of man and country. Rey. Very good my Lord. Pol. And then sir doos a this, a doos: what was I about to say? By the masse I was about to say something, Where did I leaue? Rey. At closes in the consequence. Pol. At closes in the consequence, I marry, He closes thus, I know the Gentleman I saw him yesterday, or th'other day. Or then, or then, with such or such, and as you say, There was a gaming there, or tooke in's rowse, There falling out at Tennis, or perchance I saw him enter such or such a house of sale, Videlizet, a brothell, or so foorth, see you now, Your bait of falshood: take this carpe of truth, And thus doe we of wisdome, and of reach, With windlesses: and with assaies of bias, By indirects find directions out, So by my former lecture and aduise Prince of Denmarke. Shall you my sonne; you haue me, haue you not? Rey. My Lord, I haue. Pol. God buy yee, far yee well. Rey. Good my Lord. Pol. Obserue his inclination in your selfe. Rey. I shall my Lord. Pol. And let him ply his musique. Rey. Well my Lord. Exit Rey. Enter Ophelia. Polo. Farwell. How now Ophelia, whats the matter? Ophe. O my Lord, my Lord, I haue beene so affrighted, Polo. With what i'th name of God? Ophe. My Lord, as I was sowing in my closset, Lord Hamlet with his doublet all vnbrac'd, No hat vpon his head, his stockins fouled, Vngartred, and downe gyred to his ankle, Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a looke so pittious in purport As if he had beene loosed out of hell To speake of horrors, he comes before me. Polo. Mad for thy loue? Ophe. My Lord I do not know, But truly I doe feare it. Polo, 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 ore his brow, He falls to such perusall of my face As a would draw it; long stayd he so, At last, a little shaking of mine arme, And thrice his head thus wauing vp and downe, He raised a sigh so pittious and profound, As it did seeme to shatter all his bulke, And end his being; that done, he lets me go, And with his head ouer his shoulders turn'd He seem'd to find his way without his eyes, For out a doores he went without their helps, And to the last bended their light on me. E2 Polo, The Tragedie of Hamlet Pol. Come, goe with me, I will goe seeke the King, This is the very extacy of loue, Whose violent property forgoes it selfe, And leads the will to desperat vndertakings As oft as any passions vnder heauen That dooes afflct our natures: I am sorry, What, haue you giuen him any hard words of late? Ophe. No my good Lord, but as you did commaund I did repell his letters: and denied His accesse to me. Pol. That hath made him mad. I am sorry, that with better heede and iudgement I had not coted him, I fear'd he did but trifle And meant to wracke thee, but beshrow my Ielousie: By heauen it is as proper to our age To cast beyond our selues in our opinions, As it is common for the younger sort To lack discretion; come, goe we to the King, This must be knowne, which beeing kept close, might moue More griefe to hide, then hate to vtter loue, Come. Exeunt. Florish. Enter King and Queene, Rosencraus and Guyldensterne. King. Welcome deere Rosencraus and Guyldensterne, Moreouer, that we much did long to see you, The need we haue to vse you did prouoke Our hasty sending, something haue you heard Of Hamlets transformation so call it, Sith nor th'exterior, nor the inward man Resembles that it was, what it should be, More then his fathers death, that thus hath put him, So much from the'vnderstanding of himselfe I cannot dreame of: I entreat you both, That beeing of so young daies brought vp with him, And sith so neighbored to his youth and haur, That you voutsafe your rest heere in our Court Some little time, so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather So Prince of Denmarke. So much as from occasion you may gleane, Whether ought to vs vnkowne afflicts him thus, That opend lies within our remedy. Quee. Good gentlemen, he hath much talkt of you, And sure I am, two men there are not liuing, To whome he more adheres, if it will please you To shew vs so much gentry and good will, As to extend 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. Ros. Both your Maiesties Might by the soueraigne power you haue of vs, Put your dread pleasures more into commaund Then to intreaty. Guyl. But we both obey, And here giue vp our selues in the full bent, To lay our seruice freely at your feete King. Thankes Rosencraus, and gentle Guyldensterne, Quee. Thankes Guyldensterne, and gentle Roscencraus. And I beseech you instantly to visite My too much changed sonne: goe some of you And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. Guyl. Heauens make our presence and our practices Pleasant and helpfull to him. Quee. I Amen. Exeunt Ros. and Guyld. Enter Polonius. Pol. Th'embassadors srom Norway my good Lord, Are ioyfully returnd. King, Thou still hast beene the father of good newes. Pol. Haue I my Lord? I assure my good Liege I hold my duty as I hold my soule. Both to my God, and to my gracious King; And I doe thinke, or else this braine of mine Hunts not the trayle of policie so sure As it hath vsd to doe, that I haue found The very cause of Hamlets lunacy, King. O speake of that, that do I long to heare. E3 Pol. The Tragedy of Hamlet Polo, Giue first admittance to th'embassadors, My newes shall be the frute to that great feast, King. Thy selfe doe grace to them, and bring them in. He tells me my decree: Gertrud he hath found The head and source of all your sonnes distemper. Quee. I doubt it is no other but the maine, His fathers death, and our hasty marriage. Enter Embassadors. King. Well, we shall sift him, welcome my good friends, Say Voltemand, what from our brother Norway? Volte. Most faire returne of greetings and desires; Vpon our first, he sent out to suppresse His Nephews leuies, which to him appeard To be a preparation gainst the Pollacke, But better lookt into, he truly found It was against your highnesse, whereat greeu'd That so his sicknesse, age, and impotence Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests On Fortenbrasse, which he in breefe obeyes, Receiues rebuke from Norway, and in fine, Makes vow before his Vncle, neuer more To giue th'assay of Armes against your Maiesty: Whereon old Norway ouercome with ioy, Giues him threescore thousand crownes in anuall fee, And his commission to imploy those souldiers, So leuied (as before) against the Pollacke, With an entreaty herein further shone, That it might please you to giue quiet passe Through your dominions for this enterprise On such regards of safety and allowance As therein are set downe. King. It likes vs well, And at our more considered time, wee'le read, Answer, and thinke vpon this busines: Meane time, we thanke you for your well tooke labour, Goe to your rest, at night weele feast together, Most welcome home, Exeunt Embassadors. Pol. This busines is well ended, My Prince of Denmarke. My Liege and Maddam, to expostulate What maiesty should be, what duety is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to wast night, day, and time, Therefore breuity is the soule of wit, And tediousnes the limmes and outward florishes: I will be breefe your noble sonne is mad: Mad call I it, for to define true madnes, What ist but to be nothing else but mad? But let that goe. Quee. More matter with lesse art. Pol. Maddam, I sweare I vse no art at all, That hee's mad tis true, tis true, tis pitty, And pitty tis, tis true, a foolish figure, But farewell it, for I will vse no art, Mad let vs grant him then, and now remaines That wee find 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 while she is mine, Who in her duety and obedience, marke, Hath giuen me this, now gather and surmise,

To the Celestiall and my soules Idol, the most beau­ tifiedOphelia, that's an ill phrase, a vile phrase, beautified is a vile phrase, but you shall heare: thus in her excellent white bosome, these &c.

 Quee. Came this from Hamlet to her? Pol. Good Maddam stay awhile, I will be faithfull, Doubt thou the starres are fire, Letter. Doubt that the Sunne doth mooue, Doubt truth to be a lyer, But neuer doubt I loue.

O deere Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers, I haue not art to rec­ ken my groanes, but that I loue thee best, Oh most best be­ leeue it! adew. Thine euermore most deare Lady, whilst this machine is to him. (Hamlet.

 Pol. This in obedience hath my daughter shown me, And more about hath his solicitings The Tragedy of Hamlet 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 doe you thinke of me? King. As of a man faithfull and honorable. Pol. I would faine proue so, but what might you thinke When I had seene this hot loue on the wing? As I perceiu'd it (I must tell you that) Before my Daughter told me, what might you, Or my deare Maiesty your Queene heere thinke, If I had plaid the Deske, or Table booke, Or giuen my heart a working mute and dumbe, Or lookt vppon this loue with idle sight, What might you thinke? no, I went round to worke, And my yong Mistrisse this I did bespeake, Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy starre, This must not bee: and then I prescripts 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 aduise, And hee repeld. a short tale to make, Fell into a sadnes, then into a fast, Thence to a watch, thence into a weakenesse, Thence to lightnes, and by this declension, Into the madnes wherein now hee raues, And all wee mourne for. King. Doe you thinke this? Quee. It may bee very like. Pol. Hath there beene such a time, I would faine know that, That I haue positiuely 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 mee, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeede Within the Center. King. How may wee try it forther? Pol. You know sometimes hee walkes foure houres together Heere in the Lobby. Prince of Denmarke. Quee. Soe he does indeede. Pol. At such a time; ile loose my daughter to him, Be you and I behind an Arras then, Marke the encounter, if he loue her not, And bee not from his reason falne thereon Let me be no assistant for a state But keepe a farme and carters. King. Wee will trye it. Enter Hamlet. Quee. But looke where sadly the poore wretch comes reading Pol. Away, I doe beseech you both away. Exit King and Quee. Ile bord him presently, oh giue me leaue, How does my good Lord Hamlet? Ham. Well, God a mercy. Pol. Doe you know me my Lord? Ham. Excellent well, you are a Fishmonger, Pol. Not I my Lord. Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man. Pol. Honest my Lord. Ham. I sir to be honest as this world goes, Is to be one man pickt out of tenne thousand, Pol. That's very true my Lord. Ham.

For if the sunne breed maggots in a dead dogge, being a good kissing carrion. Haue you a daughter?

 Pol. I haue my Lord. Ham. Let her not walke i'th Sunne, conception is a blesing, But as your daughter may conceaue, friend looke to't, Pol.

How say you by that, still harping on my daughter, yet he knew me not at first, a sayd I was a Fishmonger, a is farre gone, and truely in my youth, I suffred much extremity for loue, very neere this. Ile speake to him againe. What doe you read my Lord.

 Ham. Words, words, words. Pol. What is the matter my Lord, Ham. Betweene who. Pol. I meane the matter that you read my Lord. Ham.

Slanders sir; for the satericall rogue saies here, that old men haue gray beards, that their faces are wrinckled, their eyes purging thick Amber, & plum‐tree gum, & that they haue a plen­ tifullThe Tragedy of Hamlet tifull lacke of wit, together with most weake hams, all which sir though I most powerfully and potently belieue, yet I hold it not honesty to haue it thus set downe, for your selfe sir shall grow old as I am; if like a Crab you could goe backeward.

 Pol.

Though this be madnesse, yet there is method in't, wil you walke our of the ayre my Lord?

 Ham. Into my graue. Polo.

Indeede that's out of the ayre; how pregnant sometimes his replies are, a happines that often madnes hits on, which reason and sanctity could not so prosperously be dliuered of. I will leaue him and my daughter. My Lord, I will take my leaue of you.

 Ham.

You cannot take from me any thing that I will not more willingly part withall: except my life, except my life, except my life.Enter Guildersterne, and Rosoncraus.

 Polo, Fare you well my Lord. Ham. These tedious old fooles. Polo, You goe to seeke the Lord Hamlet, there he is. Ros. God saue you sir. Guyl. My honor'd Lord. Ros. My most deere Lord. Ham. My exelent good friends, how dost thou Guildersterne? A Rosencraus, good lads how doe you both? Ros. As the indifferent children of the earth. Guyl. Happy, in that we are not euer happy on Fortunes lap, We are not the very button. Ham. Nor the soles of her shooe. Ros. Neither my Lord. Ham. Then you liue about her wast, or in the middle of her fa­ (uors. Guyl, Faith her priuates we. Ha. In the secret parts of fortune, oh most true, she is a strumpet What newes? Ros. None my Lord, but the worlds growne honest. Ham. Then is Doomes day neere, but your newes is not true; But in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsonoure? Ros. To vifit you my Lord, no other occasion. Ham.

Begger that I am, I am euer poore in thankes, but I thank you, and sure deare friends, my thankes are too deare a halfpeny: were you not sent for? is it your owne inclining? is it a free visita­ tion? come, come, deale iustly with me, come, come, nay speake.

 Prince of Denmarke. Ham.

Any thing but to'th purpose; you were sent for, and there is a kind of confession in your lookes, which your modestyes haue not craft enough to cullour, I know the good King and Queene haue sent for you.

 Ros. To what end my Lord? Ham.

That you must teach me: but let me coniure you, by the rights of our fellowshippe, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our euer preserued loue; and by what more deare a better proposer can charge you withall, bee euen and direct with mee whether you were sent for or no–

 Ros. What say you? Ham Nay then I haue an eye of you, if you loue me hold not off. Guyl. My Lord wee were sent for. Ham.

I will tell you why so shall, my anticipation preuent your discouery, and your secrecie to the King and Queene moult no fea­ ther, I haue of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, forgon all custome of exercises, and indeede it goes soe heauily with my disposition, that this goodly frame the earth, seemes to mee a sterill promontorie, this most excellent Canopie the ayre, looke you, this braue ore‐hanged firmament, this maiesticall roofe fret­ ted with golden fire, why it appearth nothing to mee but a foule and pestilent congregation of vapours. What peece of worke is a man, how noble in reason, how infinit in faculties, in forme and moouing, how expresse and admirable in action, how like an An­ gell in apprehension, how like a God: the beauty of the world; the parragon of Annimales, and yet to mee, what is this Quintessence odust? man delights not mee nor woman neither, though by yousmiling you seeme to say so.

 Ros. My Lord there was no such stffe in my thoughts, Ham. Why did yee laugh then, when I said man delights not m Ros.

To thinke my Lord if you delight not in man, what Lentoentertainement the players shal receiue from you, wee coted theon the way, and hether are the coming to offer you seruice.

 Ham.

He that playes the King shal be welcome, his Maiesty shahaue tribute on mee, the aduenterous Knight shal vse his foyle antarget, the louer shal not sing gratis, the humorous man shal end hipart in peace and the Lady shal say her mind freely: or the blankverse shal hault for't. What players are they?

 Ros. Euen those you were wont to take such delight in, the Tragdians of th Citty. H The Tragedie of Hamlet Ham. How chances it the trauaile? their residence both in repu­ tation and profit was better both wayes. Ros. I thinke their inhibition, comes by the meanes of the late innouation. Ham.

Do the hold the same estimation they did when I was in the City? are they so followed?

 Ros. No indeede are they not. Ham.

It is not very strange, for my Vncle is King of Denmarke & those that would make mouths at him while my father liued, giue twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred duckets a peece, for his Pic­ ture in little: s'bloud there is something in this more then na­ turall, if Philosophy could find it out.A Florish.

 Guyl. There are the players Ham.

Gentlemen you are welcome to Elsonoure, your hands, come then th'apportenance of welcome is fashion and ceremo­ nie; let mee comply with you in this garb: let my extent to the players, which I tell you must showe fayrely outwards, should more appeare like entertainement then yours? you are welcome: but my Vncle‐father, and Aunt‐mother, are deceaued.

 Guyl. In what my deare Lord. Ham. I am but mad North North west; when the wind is Sou­ therly, I know a Hauke, from a hand‐saw. Enter Polonius. Pol. Well be with you Gentlemen. Ham.

Hark you Guyldensterne, & you to, are each eare a hearer, that great baby as you see is not yet out of his swadling clouts.

 Ros.

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

 Ham.

I will prophecy that he comes to tell me of the players; marke it, you say right sir a Monday morning t'was then indeed.

 Pol. My Lord I haue newes to tell you. Ham. My Lord I haue newes to tell you: when Rossius was an Actor in Rome. Pol. The Actors are come hether my Lord. Ham. Buz buz, Pol, Vppon my honor. Ham. Then came each Actor on his Asse. Pol.

The best actors in the world, either for Tragedy, Comedy, History, Pastorall, Pastorall‐Comicall, Historical‐Pastorall, seeme indeuidable.Prince of Denmarke. indeuidable, or Poem vnlimited. Seneca cannot bee too heauy, nor Plautus too light for the lawe of writ, and the liberty: these are the onely men.

 Ham. O Ieptha Iudge of Israell, what a treasure hadst thou? Pol. What a treasure had he my Lord? Ham. Why one faire daughter and no more, the which hee lo­ ued passing well. Pol. Still on my daughter. Ham. Am I not i'th right old Ieptha? Pol. What followes then my Lord? Ham.

Why as by lot God wot, and then you know it came to passe, as most like it was; the first rowe of the pious chanson will show you more, for looke where my abridgment comes.

 Enter the Players. Ham.

You are welcome maisters, welcome all, I am glad to see thee well, welcome good friends, oh old friend, why thy face is valanc'd since I saw thee last, com'st thou to beard me in DēmarkDenmark? what my young lady and Mistris, by lady your ladishippe is nerer to heauen, then when I saw you last by the altitude of a chopine, pray God your voyce like a peece of vncurrant gold, bee not crackt within the ring: maisters you are all welcome, weele ento't like friendly Faukners, flie at any thing wee see, weele hae a speech straite, come giue vs a taste of your quality, come a passionate speech.

 Player. What speech my good lord? Ham.

I heard thee speake me a speech once, but it was neuer ac­ ted, or if it was, not aboue once, for the play I remember pleasd not the million, t'was cauiary to the general, but it was as I recei­ ued it & others, whose iudgments in such matters cried in the top of mine, an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set downe with as much modesty as cunning. I remember one sayd there were no sallets in the lines, to make the matter sauory, nor no matter in the phrase that might indite the author of affection, but cald it an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, & by very much more handsome then fine: one speech in't I chiefly loued, t'was Æneas talke to Dido, & there about of it especially when he speakes of Priams slaughter, if it liue in your memory begin at this line, let me see, let me see, the rugged Pyrhus like Th' ircanian F3beast,The Tragedie of Hamlet Beast, tis not it begins with Pyrrhus. The rugged Pir rhus, hee whose sable armes,

Blacke as his purpose did the night resemble, When hee lay couched in th'ominous horse, Hath now this dread and black complection smeard, With heraldy more dismall head to foote, Now is hee totall Gules, horridly trickt With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sonnes, Bak'd and embasted with the parching streetes Than lend a tirranous and a damned light To their Lords murther, rosted in wrath and fire, And thus ore‐cised with coagulate gore, With eyes like Carbunckles, the hellish Pyrrhus Old grandsire Priam seekes; so proceed you. Pol.

Foregod my Lord well spoken, with good accent and (good discretion.

 Play. Anon he finds him Striking too short at Greekes, his anticke sword Rebellious to his arme, lies where it fals, Repugnant to command; vnequall matcht, Pirrhus at Priam driues, in rage strikes wide, But with the whiffe and wind of his fell sword, Th'vnnerued father falls: Seeming to feele this blow, with flaming top Stoopes to his base; and with a hiddious crash Takes prisoner Pirrhus eare, for lo his sword Which was declining on the milkie head Of reuerent Priam, seem'd i'th ayre to stick, So as a painted tirant Pirrhus stood Like a newtrall to his will and matter, Did nothing: But as wee often see against some storme, A silence in the heauens, the racke stand still, The bould winds speechlesse, and the orbe belowe As hush as death, anone the dreadfull thunder Doth rend the region, so after pirrhus pause, A rowsed vengeance sets him new a worke, And neuer did the Cyclops hammers fall, On Marses Armor forg'd for proofe eterne, With lesse remorse then Pirrhus bleeding sword Prince of Denmarke. Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune! all you gods, In generall sinod take away her power, Breake all the spokes, and folles from her wheele, And boule the round naue downe the hill of heauen As lowe as to the fiends. Polo. This is too long. Ha.

It shal to the barbers with your beard; prethee say on, he's for a Iig, or a tale of bawdry, or he sleepes, say on, come to Hecuba.

 Play. But who, a woe, had seene the mobled Queene, Ham. The mobled Queene. Polo, That's good. Play. Runne barefoote vp and downe, threatning the flames With Bison rhume, a clout vpon that head Where late the Diadem stood, and for a robe, About her lanck and all ore‐teamed loynes, A blancket in the alarme of feare caught vp. Who this had seene, with tongue in venom steept, Gainst fortunes state would treason haue pronounc'd; But if the gods themselues did see her then, When she saw Pirhus make malicious sport In mincing with his sword her husbands limmes, The instant burst of clamor that she made, Vnlesse things mortall mooue them not at all, Would haue made milch the burning eyes of heauen And passion in the gods, Pol.

Looke where he has not turned his collour, and has teares in's eyes prethee no more,

 Ham.

Tis well, Ile haue thee speake out the rest of this soone, good my Lord will you see the players well bestowed; doe you heare, let them be well vsed, for they are the abstract and breefe Chronicles of the time; after your death you were better haue a bad Epitaph then their ill report while you liue.

 Pol. My Lord, I will vse them according to their desert. Ham,

Gods bodkin man, much better, vse euery man after his desert, and who shall scape whipping, vse them after your owne honour and dignity, the lesse they deserue the more merrit is in your bounty. Take them in.

 Pol. Come sirs. 4
Oblique.
 Ha. Follow him friends, weele here a play to morrow; dost thou 4/ The Tragedy of Hamlet heare me old friend, can you play the murther of Gonzago? Play, I my Lord. Ham.

Weele hau't to morrow night, you could for need study a speech of some dosen lines, or sixteene lines, which I would set downe and insert in't: could you not?

 Play. I my Lord. Ham.

Very well, follow that Lord, and looke you mocke him not. My good friends, Ile leaue you till night, you are welcome to Elsonoure.Exeunt Pol. and Players,

 Ros. Good my Lord. Exit. Ham. I so, God buy to you, now I am alone, O what a rogue and pesant slaue an 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 owne conceit That from her working all the visage wand, Teares in his eyes, distraction in his aspect, A broken voyce, and his whole function suting With formes to his conceit; and all for nothing, For Hecuba. What's Hecuba to him, or he to her, That he should weepe for her? what would he doe Had he the motiue, and that 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 appeale the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed, The very faculties of eyes and eares; yet I, A dull and muddy mettled raskall peake, Like Iohn‐a‐dreames, vnpregnant of my cause, And can say nothing; no not for a King, Vpon whose property and most deare life, A damn'd defeate was made: am I a coward, Who calls me villaine, breakes my pate a crosse, Pluckes off my beard, and blowes it in my face, Twekes me by the nose, giues me the lie i'th throate As deepe as to the lunges: who does me this, Hah! s'wounds I should take it: for it cannot be But I am pidgion liuerd, and lacke gall Prince of Denmarke. To make oppression bitter, or ere this I should haue fatted all the region kytes With this slaues offall, bloody, baudy villaine, Remorselesse, treacherous, letcherous, kindlesse vlllaine. Why what an Asse am I? this is most braue, That I the sonne of a deere father murthered, Prompted to my reuenge by heauen and hell, Must like a whore vnpack my heart with words, And fall a cursing like a very drabbe; a stallion, fie vppont, foh. About my braines, hum, I haue heard, That guilty creatures sitting at a play, Haue by the very cunning of the scene, Beene strooke so to the soule, that presently They haue proclaim'd their malefactions: For murther though it haue no tongue will speake With most miraculous organ. Ile haue these Players Play somthing like the murther of my father Before mine Vncle, Ile obserue his lookes, Ile tent him to the quicke, if a do blench I know my course. The spirit that I haue seene May be a diuell, and the diuell hath power T'assume a pleasing shape; yea and perhaps, Out of my weakenesse and my melancholly, As hee is very potent with such spirits, Abuses mee to damne mee; 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, Rosencraus, Guyl­ densterne, Lords King. And can you by no drift of conference Get from him why hee puts on this confusion, Grating so harshly all his dayes of quiet With turbulent and dangerous lunacie? Ros He dooes confesse he feeles himselfe distracted, But from what cause a will by no meanes speake. Guyl. Nor do wee find him forward to be sounded, But with a crafty madnes keepes aloofe When we would bring him on to some confession G. The Tragedy of Hamlet Of his true state. Quee, Did he receiue you well? Ros. Most like a gentleman. Guyl. But with much forcing of his disposition. Ros. Niggard of question, but of our demands Most free in his reply. Quee. Did you assay him to any pastime? Ros. Maddam, it so fell out that certaine Players We ore‐raught on the way, of these we told him, And there did seeme in him a kind of ioy To heare of it: they are heere about the Court, And as I thinke, they haue already order This night to play before him. Pol. Tis most true, And he beseecht me to intreat 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 futher edge, And driue his purpose into these delights. Ros. We shall my Lord. Exeunt Ros. & Guyl, King. Sweet Gertrard, leaue vs two, For we haue closely sent for Hamlet hether, That he as t'were by accedent, may heere Affront Ophelia; her father and my selfe, Wee'le so bestow out selues, that seeing vnseene, We may of their encounter franckely iudge, And gather by him as he is behau'd, Ift be th'affliction of his loue or no That thus he suffers for. Qee. I shall obey you. And for my part Ophelia, I doe wish That your good beauties be the happy cause Of Hamlets wildnes, so shall I hope your vertues Will bring him to his wonted way againe, To both your honours. Ophe. Maddam, I wish it may. Pol. Ophelia walke you heere: gracious so please you, Prince of Denmarke. We will bestow our selues; reade on this booke, That show of such an exercise may collour Your lowlinesse; we are oft too blame in this, Tis too much proou'd, that with deuotions visage And pious action, we doe sugar ore The Diuell himselfe. King, O tis too true, How smart a lash that speech doth giue my conscience, The harlots cheeke beautied with plastring art, Is not more ougly to the thing that helps it, Then is my deede to my most painted word: O heauy burthen: Enter Hamlet. Pol. I heare him comming, with‐draw my Lord. 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 die to sleepe No more: and by a sleepe, to say we end The hart‐ake, and the thousand naturall shocks That flesh is heire to; tis a consumation Deuoutly to be wisht to die 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 shuffled off this mortall coyle Must giue vs pause, there's the respect That makes calamity of so long life: For who would beare the whips and scornes of time, Th'oppressors wrong, the proude mans contumely, The pangs of office, and the lawes delay, The insolence of office, and the spunes That patient merrit of th'vnworthy takes, When himselfe might his quietas make With a bare bodkin; who would fardels beare, To grunt and sweat vnder a weary life? But that the dread of something after death, The vndiscouer'd country, from whose borne The Tragedy of Hamlet No trauailer returnes, puzzels the will, And makes vs rather beare those ills we haue, Then flie to others that wee know not of. Thus conscience dooes make cowards, And thus the natiue hiew of resolution Is sickled ore with the pale cast of thought. And enterprises of great pitch and moment, With this regard their currents turne awry, 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 dooes your honour for this many a day? Ham. I humbly thanke you; 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, not I, I neuer gaue you ought. Ophe. My honor'd Lord, you know right well you did, And with them words of so sweet breath composd As made these things more rich: their perfume lost, Take these againe, for to the noble mind Rich gifts wax poore when giuers prooue vnkind, There my Lord. Ham. Ha, ha, are you honest. Oph. My Lord. Ham. Are you faire? Ophe. What meanes your Lordship? Ham.

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

 Oph. Could beauty my Lord haue better comerce Then with honesty? Ham.

I truely, for the power of beauty will sooner transforme ho­ nesty from what it is to a baude, then the force of honesty can trans­ late beauty into his likenesse, this was sometime a paradox, but now the time giues it proofe, I did loue you once.

 Oph. Indeed my Lord you made me beleeue so. Ham. You should not haue beleeu'd me, for vertue cannot so euacuat our old stock, but we shall relish of it: I loued you not. Prince of Denmarke. Ophe. I was the more deceiued. Ham.

Get thee a Nunry: why would'st thou be a bre eder of sin­ ners? I am my selfe indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse mee of such things, that it were better my Mother had not borne mee: I am very proude, reuengefull, ambitious, with more offences at my becke, then I haue thoughts to put them in, imaginatiōimagination to giue them shape, or time to act them in: what should such fellowes as I do crauling be­ tweene earth and heauen? we are arrant knaues, beleeue none of vs. go thy waies to a Nunry, Wher's your father?

 Ophe. At home my Lord. Ham. Let the doers be shut vpon him, That he may play the foole no where but in's owne house, Farewell. Ophe. O helpe him you sweet heauens. Ham.

If thou doost marry, Ile giue thee this plage for thy dow­ rie, be thou as chast as yce, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape ca­ lumny get thee to a Nunry, farewell. Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a foole, for wise men know well enough what monsters you make of them: to a Nunry goe, and quickly to, farwell.

 Ophe. Heauenly powers restore him. Ham.

I haue heard of your paintings well enough, God hath gi­ uen you one face, and you make your selfes another, you gig and am­ ble, and you list you nickname Gods creaturs, and make your wan­ tonnes ignorance; goe to, Ile no more on't, it hath made me madde, I say we will haue no mo marriage, those that are married already, all but one shal liue, the rest shall keep as they are: to a Nunry go. Exit,

 Ophe. O what a noble mind is heere othrowne! The courtiers, souldiers, schollers, eye, tongue, sword, Th'expectation, and Rose of the faire state, The glasse of fashion, and the mould of forme, Th'obseru'd of all obseruers, quite, quite downe, And I of Ladies most deiect and wretched, That suckt the huny of his musickt vowes; Now see what noble and most soueraigne reason Like sweet bells iangled out of time, and harsh, That vnmatcht forme and stature of blowne youth Blasted with extacy. O wo is me T'haue seene what I haue seene, see what I see. Exit. G3 Ente The Tragedy of Hamlet Enter King and Polonius. King. Loue: his affections doe not that way tend, Nor what he spake, though it lackt forme a little, Was not like madnes; there's something in his soule Ore which his melancholy sits on brood, And I doe doubt, the hatch and the disclose Will be some danger; which for to preuent, I haue in quick determination Thus set downe: he shall with speed to England, For the demaund of our neglected tribute, Haply the seas, and countries different, With variable obiects, shall expell This something setled matter in his hart, Whereon his braines still beating Puts him thus from fashion of himselfe. What thinke you on't? Pol. It shall doe well. But yet doe I beleeue the origen and comencement of it Sprung from neglected loue: how now Ophelia? You neede not tell vs what Lord Hamlet said, We heard it all: my Lord, doe as you please, But if you hold it fit, after the play. Let his Queene‐mother all alone intreate him To show his griefe, let her be round with him, And Ile be plac'd (so please you) in the eare Of all their conference: if she find him not, To England send him: or confine him where Your wisedome best shall thinke. King. It shall be so, Madnes in great ones must not vnmatcht goe. Exeunt. Enter Hamlet, and three of the Players. Ham.

Speake the speech I pray you as I pronounc'd it to you, trip­ ingly on the tongue, but if you mouth it as many of our Players do, had as liue the towne cryer spoke my lines, nor doe not saw the aire oo much with your hand thus, but vse all gently, for in the very tor­ ent tempest, and as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you must cquire and beget a temperance, that may giue it smoothnesse, O it ffends me to the soule, to heare a robustious perwig‐pated fellow terePrince of Denmarke. tere a passion to totters, to very rags, to spleet the eares of the ground lings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumbe shewes, and noyse: I would haue such a fellow whipt for ore­ dooing Termagant, it out Herods Herod, pray you auoyde it.

 Play. I warrant your honour. Ham.

Be not too tame neither, but let your own e discretion bee your tutor, sute the action to the word, the word to the action, with this speciall obseruance, that you ore‐steppe not the modesty of na­ ture: For any thing so ore‐doone, is from the purpose of playing, whose end both at the first, and now, was and is, to hold as twere the Mirrour vp to nature, to shew vertue her feature; scorne her own Image, and the very age and body of the time his forme and pressure: Now this ouer‐done, or come trady off, though it makes the vnskil­ full laugh, cannot but make the iudicious greeue, the censure of which one, must in your allowance ore‐weigh a whole Theater of o­ thers. O there bee Players that I haue seene play, and heard others praysd, and that highly, not to speake it prophanely, that neither ha­ uing th'accent of Christians, nor the gate of Christian, Pagan, nor man, haue so flrutted and bellowed, that I haue thought some of Na­ tures Iournemen had made men, and not made them well, they imita­ ted humanity so abominably.

 Play. I hope we haue reform'd that indifferently with vs. Ha.

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 quantity of barraine spectators to laugh to, though in the meane time, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villanous, and shewes a most pittifull ambition in the foole that vses it: goe make you ready. How now my Lord, will the King heare this peece of worke?

 Enter Polonius, Guyldensterne, and Rosencraus. Pol. And the Queene to, and that presently, Ham. Bid the Plaiers make hast. Wil you two help to hasten them. Ros. I my LordExeunt those two. Ham. What how, Horatio.Enter Horatio. Hora. Heere sweete Lord, at your seruice. Ham. Horatio, thou art een as iust a man As ere my conuersation copt withall. Hora. O my deere Lord. The Tragedy of Hamlet Nay, do not thinke I flatter, For what aduancement may I hope from thee That no reuenew hast but thy good spirits To feede and cloathe thee, why should the poore be flattred? No, let the candied tongue lick obsurd pompe, And crooke the pregnant hinges of the knee Where thrift may follow fauning, doost thou heare, Since my deere soule was mistris of her choyce, And could of men distinguish her election S hath seald thee for her felfe, for thou hast beene As one in suffering all that suffers nothing, A man that Fortunes buffets and rewards Hast tane with equall thankes; and blest are those Whose bloud and iudgement are so well comedled, That they are not a pipe for Fortunes finger To sound what stoppe shee 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 before the King, One scene of it comes neere the circumstance Which I haue told thee of my fathers death, I prethee when thou seest that act a foote, Euen with the very comment of thy soule Obserue my Vncle, if his occulted guilt Doe not it selfe vnkennill in one speech, It is a damned Ghost that wee haue seene, And my imaginations are as foule As Vulcans stithy; giue him heedfull note For I mine eyes will riuet to his face, And after wee will both our iudgements ioyne In censure of his seeming. Hora. Well my Lord, If a steale ought the whilst this play is playing And scape detected, I will pay the theft. Enter trumpets and Kettle Drummes, King, Queene, Polonius, Ophelia. Ham. They are comming to the play. I must be idle, Prince of Denmarke. Get you a place. King. How feares our cousin Hamlet? Ham. Excellent yfaith. Of the Camelions dish, I eate the ayre, Promis‐cram'd, you cannot feede Capons so. King. I haue nothing with this aunswer Hamlet, These words are not mine. Ham. No, nor mine now my Lord. You playd once i'th Vniuersity you say, Pol. That did I my Lord, and was accounted a good Actor, Ham. What did you enact? Pol. I did enact Iulius Cæsar, I was kild i'th Capitall, Brutus kild me. Ham. It was a brute part of him to kill so Capitall a calfe there. Be the Players ready? Ros. I my Lord, they stay vpon your patience. Ger. Come hether my deare Hamlet, sit by me. Ham. No good mother heere's mettle more attractiue. Pol. O, oh, doe you marke that. Ham. Lady shall I lie in your lap? Ophe. No my Lord. Ham. Doe you thinke I meant country matters? Ophe. I thinke nothing my Lord. Ham. That's a faire thought to lye betweene maydes legs. Ophe. What is my Lord? Ham. Nothing. Ophe. You are merry my Lord. Ham. Who I? Oph. I my Lord. Ham.

O God! your onely Iigge‐maker, what should a man do but be merry, for looke you how cheerfully my Mother lookes, and my father died within's two howres.

 Ophe. Nay, tis twice two months my Lord. Ham,

So long, nay then let the diuell weare blacke, for Ile haue a sute of sables; O heauens, die two months ago, and not forgotten yet, then there's hope a great mans memory may out‐liue his life halfe a yeare, but ber Lady a must build Churches then, or else shall a suffer not thingking on, with the Hobby‐horse, whose Epitaph is, for O, for O, the hobby‐horse is forgot.

 H Enter The Tragedy of Hamlet The Trumpets sound. Dumbe show followes. Enter a King and a Queene, the Queene embracing him, and he her he takes her vp, and declines his head vppon her necke, he lies him downe vp­ pon a bancke of flowers, she seeing him a sleepe, leaues him: anon comes in an other man, takes off his crowne, kisses it, pours poyson in the sleepers eares, and leaues him: the Queene returnes, finds the King dead, makes passionate action, the poysoner with some three or foure comes in againe, seeme to condole with her, the dead body is carried away, the poisoner woes the Queene with gifts, she seemes harsh awhile, but in the end accepts loue. Oph. What meanes this my Lord? Ham. Marry this munching Mallico, it meanes mischiefe. Oph. Belike this show imports the argument of the play. Ham. We shall know by this fellow,Enter prologue. The players cannot keepe they'le tell all. Ophe. Will a tell us what this show meant? Ham.

I or any show that you will show him, be not you asham'd to show heele not shame to tell you what it meanes.

 Oph. You are naught, you are naught, Ile marke the play. Prologue. For vs and for our Tragedie, Heere stooping to your clemencie, We begge your hearing patiently. Ham. Is this a Prologue or the posie of a ing? Ophe. Tis breefe my Lord. Ham. As womans loue. Enter Knig and Queene. King. Full thirty times hath Phœbus Cart gone round Neptunes salt wash, and Tellus orb'd the ground, And thirey dosen 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, Quee. So many iourneyes may the Sunne and Moone Make vs againe count ore ere loue bee doone, 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. Prince of Denmarke. For women feare too much, euen as they loue, And womens feare and loue hold quantity, Either none, in neither ought, or in extremity, Now what my Lord is poofe hath made you know, And as my loue is ciz'st, my feare is so, Where loue is great, the litlest boubts are feare, Where little feares grow great, great loue growes there. King. Faith I must leaue thee loue, and shortly to, My operant powers their functions leaue to do, And thou shalt liue in this fare world behind, Honord, belou'd, and haply one as kind, For husband shalt thou. Quee. O confound the rest. Such loue must needes be treason in my brest, In second husband let me be accurst, None wed the second, but who kild the first. Ham. That's wormwood. The instances that second marriage moue Are base respects of thrift, but but none of loue, A second time I kill my husband dead, When second husband kisses me in bed. King. I doe beleeue you thinke what now you speake, But what we doe determine, oft we breake, Pnrpose is but the slaue to memory, Of violent birth, but poore validity, Which now the fruite vnripe sticks 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 either, griefe, or ioy, Their owne ennactures with themselues destroy, Where ioy most reuels, griefe doth most lament, Greefe ioy, ioy griefes, on flender accedent, 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 fauourite flies, H2 The The Tragedy of Hamlet The poore aduanced makes friends of enemies, And hetheroo doth loue on fortune tend, For who not needs, shall neuer lacke a friend, And who in want a hollow friend doth try, Directly seasons him his enemie. But orderly to end where I begunne, Our willes and fates doe so contrary runne, That our deuices still are ouerthrowne, Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our owne, So rhinke thou wilt no second husband wed, But die thy thoughts when thy first Lord is dead. Quee. Nor earth to me giue foode, nor heauen light, Sport and repose lock from mee day, and night. To desperation turne my trust and hope, And Anchors cheere in prison be my scope, Each opposite that blanckes the face of ioy, Meete what I would haue well, and it destroy, Both heere and hence pursue me lasting strife, Ham. If she should breake it now If once I bee a widdow, euer I be a wife. King. Tis deepely sworne, sweet leaue mee heare a while, My spirits grow dull and faine I would beguyle The tedious day with sleepe, Quee. Sleepe rock thy braine, And neuer come mischance betwixt vs twane. Exeunt. Ham. Maddam, how like you this play? Quee. The Lady doth protest too much me thinkes. Ham. O but shee'le 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 Mousetrap, mary how tropically, this play is the Image of a murther done in Vienna, Gonzago is the Dukes name, his wife Baptista, you shall see anone, tis a knauish peece of worke, but what of that? your maiesty and we shall haue free soules, it touches vs not, et the gauled Iade winch, our withers are vnwrung. This is one Lu­ ianus, Nephew to the King.

 Enter Lucianus. Oph. You are as good as a Chorus my Lord. Ham. I could interpret betweene you and your loue If Prince of Denmarke. If I could see the puppits dallying. Ophe. You are keene my Lord, you are keene. Ham. It would cost you a groning to take off mine edge. Oph. Still better and worse. Ham.

So you mistake your husbands. Beginne murtherer, leaue thy damnable faces and beging, come, the croking Rauen doth bel­ low for reuenge.

 Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugges fit and time agreeing, Confiderat season els no creature seeing, Thou mixture rancke, of midnight weeds collected, With Hecats ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, Thy naturall magicke, and dire property, On wholesome life vsurps immediately. Ham.

A poysons him i'th Garden for his estate, his names Gonza­ go, the story is extant and written in very choice Italian, you shall fee anon how the murtherer gets the loue of Gonzagoes wife.

 Oph. The King rises. Quee. How fares my Lord? Pol. Giue ore the play. King. Giue me some light, away. Pol. Lights, lights, lights. Exeunt, all but Ham. and Horatio. Ham. Why let the stroken deere goe weepe, The Hart vngauled play, For some must watch whilst some must sleepe, Thus runnes the world away. Would not this sir and a forrest of fea­ thers, if the rest of my fortunes turne Turke with me, with prouinci­ all Roses, on my raz'd shooes, get me a fellowship in a cty of players? Hora. Halfe a share. Ham, A whole one I. For thou dost know oh Damon deere This Realme dimantled was Of Ioue himselfe, and now raignes heere A very very paiock. Hora. You might haue rim'd. Ham.

O good Horatio, Ile take the Ghosts word for a thousand pound. Didst perceaue?

 Hora. Very well my Lord. Ham. Vppon the talke of the poysoning. Hora. I did very well note him. H3 Ham The Tragedie of Hamlet Ham. Ah ha, come some musique, com the Recorders, For if the King like not the Comedy, Why then belike he it not perdy. Come, some musique, Enter Rosencraus, Guyldensterne, Guyl. Good my Lord, voutsafe me a word with you. Ham. Sir a whole history. Guy. The King sir. Ham. I sir, what of him? Guyl. Is in his retirement meruailous distempred. Ham. With drinke fir? Guyl. No my lord, with choller, Ham.

Your wisedome should shew it selfe more richer to signifie his to the Doctor, for, for me to put him to his purgation, would per­ aps plunge him into more choller.

 Guyl. Good my Lord put your discourse into some frame, And stare not so wildly from my affaire. Ham. I am tame sir, pronounce. Guil. The Queene your mother in most great affliction of spirit, hath sent me to you. Ham. You are welcome. Guil.

Nay good my Lotd, this curtesie is not of the right breed, if it shall please you to make me a wholsome aunswer, I will doe your mothers commaundement, if not, your patdon and my returne, shall be the end of busines.

 Ham. Sir I cannot. Ros. What my Lord. Ham.

Make you a wholsome answer, my wits diseasd, but sir, such nswere as I can make, you shall commaund, or rather as you say, my other, therefore no more, but to the matter, my mother you say.

 Ros. Then thus she saies, your behauiour hath strooke her into a­ azement and admiration. Ham.

O wonderfull sonne that can so stonish a mother! but is here no sequell at the heeles of this mothers admiration? impart.

 Ros. She desires to speake with you in her closet ere you go to bed. Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother, haue you any urther trade with vs? Ros. my Lord you once did loue me. Ham. And doe still by these pickers and stealers. Ros, Prince of Denmarke. Ros.

Good my Lord, what is your cause of distemper, you do sure­ ly barre the doore vpon your owne liberty, if you deny your griefes to your friend.

 Ham. Sir I lacke aduancement. Ros.

How can that be when you haue the voyce of the King him­ selfe for your succession in Denmarke.

 Enter the Players with Recorders. Ham.

I sir, but while the grasse growes, the prouerbe is something musty, oh the Recorders, let me see one, to withdraw with you, why do you goe about to recouer the wind of me, as if you would driue me into a toyle?

 Guyl O my lord if my duty be too bold, my loue is too vnmanerly. Ham. I do not well vnderstand that, will you play vpon this pipe? Guyl. My Lord I cannot. Ham. I pray you. Guyl. Beleeue me I cannot. Ham. I beseech you. Guyl. I know no touch of it my Lord. Ham.

It is as esie as lying; gouerne these ventages with your fin­ gers, and the vmber giue it breath with your mouth, and it will dis­ course most eloquent musique, looke you, these are the stoppes.

 Guyl. But these cannot I commaund to any vtrance of harmonie I haue not the skill. Ham.

Why looke you now how vnworthy a thing you make ome, you would play vpon me, you would seeme to know my stopsyou would plucke out the hart of my misterie, you would sound mefrom my lowest note to my compasse, and there is much musique excellētexcellent voice in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak, s bloodo you thinke I am easier to be plaid on then a pipe, call me what instrument you wil, though you fret me not, you cannot play vpon mGod blesse you sir.

 Enter Polonius. Pol. My Lord the Queene wou'd speake with you, & presentl Ham. Do you see youder cloud that's almost in shape of a Came Pol. By'th masse and tis like a Camell indeede, Ham. Me thinkes it is like a Wezell. Pol. It is black like a Wezell. Ham. Or like a Whale. Pol. Very like a Whale. Ham. Th The Tragedie of Hamlet hen I will come to my mother by and by, hey foole me to the top of my bent, I will come by and by, eaue me friends. will, say so. By and by is easily said, is now the very witching time of night, hen Churchyards yawne, and hell it selfe breakes out ontagion to this world: now could I drinke hote blood, nd doe such businesse as the bitter day ould quake to looke on: soft, now to my mother, hart loose not thy nature! let not euer, he soule of Nro enter this firme bosome! et me be cruell, not vnnaturall, will speake dagger to her, but vse none, y tongue and soule in this be hypocrites, ow in my words someuer she be shent, o giue them seales neuer my soule consent. Exit. Enter King, Rosencraus, and Guyldensterne. King. I like him not, nor stands it safe with vs o let his madnesse range, therefore prepare you, your commission will forth‐with dispatch, nd he to England shall along with you, he termes of our estate may not endure azerd so neer's as doth hourely grow, ut of his browes. Guyl. We will our selues prouide, ost holy and religious feare it is o keepe those many many bodies safe hat liue and feed vpon your Maiesty. Ros. The single and peculier life is bound, ithall the strength and armour of the mind o keepe it selfe from noyance, but much more at spirit, vpon whose weale depends and rests e liues of many, the cesse of Maiesty es not alone; but like a gulfe doth draw hat's neere it, with it, or it is a massie wheele t on the somnet of the highest mount, whose hugh spokes, tenn thousand lesser things e morteist and adioynd, which when it falls, Prince of Denmarke. Each small annexment, pety consequenc Attends the boystrous raine, neuer alone Did the King sigh, but a generall growne. King. Arme you I pray you to this speedy voi age, For we will fetters put about this feare Which now goes too free‐footed. Ros. We will hast vs. Exeunt Gent. Enter Polonius. Pol. My Lord, he's going to his mothers closet, Behind the Arras I'le conuay my selfe To here the prossesse, I'le warrant shee'le tax him home, And as you said, and wisely was it sayd, Tis meete that some more audience then a mother, Since nature makes them partiall, should ore‐heare The speech of vantage; fare you well my Leige, I'le call vpon you ere you goe to bed. And tell you what I know. Exit. King. Thankes deere my Lord. O my offence is rancke, it smels to heauen, It hath the primall eldest curse vppont, A brothers murther, pray can I not, Though inclination be as sharp as will, My stronger guilt defeats my stronge entent, And like a man to double busines bound, I stand in pause where I shall first beginne, And both neglect: what if this cursed hand Were thicker then it selfe with brothers blood, Is there not raine enough in the sweete Heauens To wash it white as snow? whereto serues mercy But to confront the visage of offence? And what's in praier but this two‐fold force, To be forestalled ere we come to fall, Or pardon being downe, then Ile looke vp. My faults 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 affects for which I did the murther; My Crowne, mine owne ambition, and my Queene; I May The Tragedy of Hamlet May one be pardoned and retaine th'offence? In the corrupted currents of this world, Offences guided hand may show by iustice, And oft tis seene the wicked prize it selfe Buyes ou the law, but tis not so aboue, There is no shufling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we our selues compeld 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? O wretched state, O bosome blacke as death, O limed soule, that struggling to be free, Art more ingaged! helpe Angles make assay, Bow stubborne knees and hart with strings of steele, Be soft as sinnewes of the new borne babe, All may be well. Enter Hamlet. Ham. Now might I doe it, but now a is a praying, And now Ile doo't, and so a goes to heauen, And so am I reuendge, that would be scand A villaine kills my father, and for that, I his sole sonne, doe this same villaine send To heauen. Why, this is base and silly. ––––––––– not reuendge, A tooke my father grosely, full of bread, Withall his crimes broad blowne, as flush as May, And how his audit stands who knowes saue heauen, But in our circumstance and course of thought, Tis heauy with him: and am I then reuendged To take him in the purging of his soule, When he is fit and seasoned for his passage? No, Vp sword, and know thou a more horrid hent, When he is drunke, a sleepe, or in his rage, Or in th'incestious pleasure of his bed, At game, a swearing, or about some act That has no relish of saluation in't. Thn Prince of Denmarke. Then trip him that his heele mas kick at heauen, And that his soule may be as damnd and blacke As hell whereto it goes; my mother staies, This phisicke but prolongs thy sickly daies. Exit. King. My words fly vp, my thoughts remaine below Words without thoughts neuer to heauen goe. Exit. Enter Gertrard and Polonius. Polo. A will come strait, looke you lay home to him, Tell him his prancks haue beene too broad to beare with, And that your grace hath screen'd and stood betweene Much heate and him, Ile silence me euen heere, Pray you be round. Enter Hamlet. Ger. Ile waite you, feare me not, With‐draw, I heare him comming. Ham. Now mother, what's the matter? Ger. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. Ham. Mother you haue my father much offended. Ger. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue, Ham. Goe goe, you question with a wicked tongue. Ger. Why how now Hamlet? Ham. What's the matter now? Ger. Haue you forgot me? Ham. No by the rood not so, You are the Queene, your husbands brothers wife, And would it were not so, you are my mother. Ger. Nay then Ile set those to you that can speake. Ham, Come, come, and sit you downe, you shall not boudge, You goe not till I set you vp a glasse Where you may see the most part of you. Ger. What wilt thou doe, thou wilt not murther me? Helpe hoe. Polo, What hoe helpe. Ham. How now, a Rat, dead for a Duckat, dead. Pol. O I am slaine. Ger. O me, what hast thou done? Ham. Nay I know not, is it the King? I2 Ger. The Tragedy of Hamlet Ger O what a rash and bloody deede is this. Ham A bloody deede, almost as bad good mother As kill a King, and marry with his brother. Ger As kill a King. Ham. I Lady, it was my word. Thou wretched, rash, intruding foole farewell, I tooke thee for thy better, take thy fortune, Thou find'st to bee too busie is some danger. Leaue wringing of your hands, peace sit you downe, And let me wring your heart, for so I shall I it be made of penetrable stuffe, If damned custome haue nor brasd it so, That it be proofe and bulwark against sence. Ger. What haue I done, that thou dar'st waggc thy tongue In noyse so rude against me? Ham. Such an act That blurres the grace and blush of modesty, Calls vertue hipocrit, takes of the Rose From the faire forhead of an innocent loue, And sets a blister there, makes mariage vowes As false as dicers oathes, Oh such a deed! As from the body of contraction pluckes The very soule: and sweet religion makes A rapsody of words; heauens face dooes glow Ore this solidiry and compound masse With heated visage, as against the doome Is thought‐sick at the act. Quee. Ay me what act? Ham. That roares so low'de and thunders in the Index, Looke here vpon this Picture, and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers, See what a grace was feated on his browe, Hiperions curles, the front of Ioue him‐selfe, An eye like Mars, to threten and command, A station like the herald Mercury, New lighted on a heaue, a kissing hill, A combination and fo rme indeede, Where euery God didseeme to set his seale To giue the world assurance of a man, This Prince of Denmarke. This was your husband, looke you now what followes, Heere is your husband like a mildewed eare, Blasting his wholesome brother: haue you eyes? Could you on this faire mountaine leaue to feede, And batton on this Moore; ha, haue you eyes? You cannot call it loue, for at your age The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble, And waites vpon the iudgement, and what iudgement Would step from this to this? sence sure you haue Els could you not haue motion, but sure that sence Is appoplext, for madnesse would not erre Nor senc to extacie was neere so thral'd But it reseru'd some quantity of choyce To serue in such a difference. What diuell wast That thus hath cosond you at hodman‐blind? Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, Eares without hands, or eyes, smelling sance all, Or but a sickly part of one true sence Could not so mope. Oh shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, If thou canst mutine in a Matrons bones, To flaming youth, let vertue be as wax And melt in her owne fire, proclaime no shame When the compulsiue ardure giues the charge, Since frost it selfe as actiuely doth burne, And reason pardons will. Ger. O Hamlet speake no more, Thou turn'st my very eyes into my soule, And there I see such black and greeued spots As will leaue there their tin'ct. Ham. Nay but to liue In the rancke sweat of an incestuous bed Stewed in corruption, honying and making loue Ouer the nasty stie. Ger. O speake to mee no more, These words like daggers enter in my eares, No more sweet Hamlet. Ham. A murtherer and a villaine, A slaue that is not twentith part the kyth I 3 Of your precedent Lord, a vice of Kings, A cut‐purse of the Empire and the rule, That from a shelfe the precious Diadem stole And put it in his pocket. Enter Ghost. Ham. A King of shreds and patches, Saue me and houer ore me with your wings You heauenly gards: what would your gratious figure? Ger. Alasse hee's mad. Ham. Doe youe not come your tardy sonne to chide, That lap'st in time and passion lets goe by Th'important acting of your dread command. O say! Ghost. Doe not forget: this visitation s but to whet thy almost blunted purpose, ut looke, amazement on thy mother sits, O step betweene her, and her sighing soule! Conceit in weakest bodies strongest workes, peake to her Hamlet. Ham. How is it with you Lady? Ger. Alasse how i'st with you? hat you doe bend your eye on vacancy. nd with th'incorporall ayre doe hold discourse, oorth at your eyes your spirrits wildly peep, nd as the sleeping souldiers in th'alarme, our beaded haire like life in excrements tarts vp and stands an end: O gentle sonne! pon the heate and flame of thy distemper princkle coole patience, whereon doe you looke? Ham. On him, on him, looke you how pale he glares, is forme and cause conioyned, preaching to stones ould make them capable, doe not looke vpon me, east with this pittious action you conuert y stearne effects, then what I haue to doe ill want true collour, teares perchance for blood. Ger. To whome doe you speake this? Ham. Doe you see nothing there? Ger. Nothing at all, yet all that is there I see. Ham. Nor did you nothing heare? Ger. No nothing but our selues. Ham. Prince of Denmarke. Ham. Why looke you there, looke how it steales away, My father in his habit as he liue'd, Looke where he goes, euen now out at the portall. Exit Ghost. Ger. This is the very coynage of your braine, This bodilesse creation, extacy is very cunning in Ham. My pulse as yours doth temperatly keepe time, And makes as healthfull musicke, it is not madnesse That I haue vttred, bring me to the test, And the matter will reword, which madnesse Would gambole from. Mother for loue of grace, Lay not that flattering vnction to your soule That not your trespasse but my madnesse speakes, It will but skin and filme the vlcerous place, Whiles rancke corruption mining all within Infects vnseene: confesse your selfe to heauen, Repent what's past, auoyd what is to come, And doe not spread the compost on the weedes To make them rancker, forgiue me this my vertue, For in the fatnesse of these pursie times Vertue it selfe of vice must pardon beg, Yea curbe and wooe for leaue to doe him good. Ger. O Hamlet! thou hast cleft my hart in twaine. Ham. O throw away the worser part of it, And leaue the purer with the other halfe, Good night, but goe not to my Vncles bed, Assume a vertue if you haue it not, That monster custome, who all sence doth eate Of habits deuill, is angell yet in this That to the vse of actions faire and good, He likewise giues a frocke of Liuery That aptly is put on to refraine night, And that shall lend a kind of easines To the next abstinence, the next more easie: For vse almost can change the stamp of nature, And Maister the diuell, or throw him out With wonderous potency: once more good night, And when you are desirous to be blest, Ile blessing beg of you, for this same Lord I doe repent; but heauen hath pleas'd it so To The Tragedie of Hamlet 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, This bad beginnes, and worse remaines behind. One word more good Lady Ger. What shall I doe? Ham. Not this by no meanes that I bid you doe, Let the blowt King temp't you againe to bed, Pinch wanton on your cheeke, call you his Mouse. And let him for a paire of reechy kisses, Or padling in your necke with his damn'd fingers. Make you to rouell all this matter out That I essentially am not in madnesse, But mad in craft, t'were good you let him know. For who that's but a Queene, faire, sober, wise, Would from a paddack, from a bat, a gib, Such deare concernings hide, who would doe so, No, in dispight of sence and secrecy, Vnpeg the basket on the houses top, Let the birds fly, and like the famous Ape, To try conclusions in the basket creepe, And breake your owne necke downe. Ger. Be thou assur'd, if words be made of breath, And breath of life, I haue no life to breath What thou hast sayd to me. Ham. I must to England, you know that, Ger. Alacke I had forgot. Tis so concluded on. Ham. Ther's letters seald, and my two Schoolefellowes, Whom I will trust as I will Adders fang'd, They beare the mandat, they must sweepe my way And marshall me to knauery: let it worke, For tis the sport to haue the enginer Hoist with his owne petar, an't shall goe hard But I will delue one yard belowe their mines, And blow them at the Moone: O tis most sweete When in one line two crafts directly meete, This Prince of Denmarke. This man shall set me packing, Ile lugge the guts into the neighbour roome; Mother good night indeed, this Counsayler Is now most still, most secret, and most graue, Who was in life a most foolish prating knaue. Come sir, to draw toward an end with you. Good night mother. Exit. Enter King, and Queene, with Rosencrausand Gyldensterne. King. There's matter in thesesighes, these profound heaues, You must translate, tis fit we vnderstand them, Where is your sonne? Gert. Bestow this place on vs a little while. Ah mine owne Lord, what haue I seene to night? King What Gertrad, how dooes, Hamlet? Gert. Mad as the sea and wind when both contend Which is the mightier in his lawlesse fit, Behind the Arras hearing some thing stirre, Whips out his Rapier, cryeis a Rat, a Rat, And in this brainish apprehension kills The vnseene good old man. King, O heauy deed! It had beene so with vs had we beene there, His liberty is full of threates to all, To you your selfe, to vs, to euery one, Alas, how shall this bloody deede be answer'd? It will be layd to vs, whose prouidence Should haue kept short, restraind, and out of haunt This mad young 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 it feede Euen on the pith of life: where is he gone? Gert. To draw apart the body he hath kild, Ore whom, his very madnesse like some ore Among a minerall of mettals base, Showes it selfe pure, a weepes for what is done. King. Gertrad, com away, The Tragedy of Hamlet The Sunne no sooner shall the mountaines touch, But wee will shppe him hence, and this vile deede Wee must with all our Maiesty and skillEnter Ros. & Guyld., Both countenance and excuse. Ho Guyldensterne, Friends both, goe ioyne you with some further ayde, Hamlet in madnes hath Polonius slaine, And from his mothers closset hath hee drag'd him, Goe seeke him out speake sayre and bring the body Into the Chappell; I pray you hast in this, Come Gertrard, wee'le call vp our wisest friends, And let them know both what wee meane to do And whats vntimely done, Whose whisper ore the worlds Diameter, As leuell as the Cannon to his blanck, Transports his poysned shot, may misse our name, And hit the woundlesse ayre, O come away, My soule is full of discord and dismay. Exeunt. Enter Hamlet, Rosencraus and others. Ham. Safely stowd, but softly, what noyse, who calls on Hamlet? O heere they come. Ros. What haue you done my Lord with the dead body? Ham. Compounded it with dust whereto it is kin. Ros. Tell vs where tis that wee may take it thence, And beare it to the Chappell. Ham. Do not beleeue it. Ros. Beleeue what? Ham.

That I can keepe your counsaile and not mine owne, besides to be demaunded of a spunge, what replication should be made by the sonne of a King.

 Ros. Take you me for a spunge 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 eepes them like an apple in the corner of his iaw, first mouth'd to be ast swallowed, when he needs what you haue gleand, it is but squee­ ing you, and spunge you shall be dry againe.

 Ros. I vnderstand you not my Lord. Ham. I am glad of it, a knauish speech sleepes in a foolish eare. Ros. My Lord, you must tell vs where the body is, and go with vs o the King, Prince of Denmarke. Ham.

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

 Guyl. A thing my Lord. Ham. Of nothing, bring me to him. Exeunt. Enter King, and two or three. King. I haue sent to seeke him, and to find the body, How dangerous is it that this man goes loose, Yet must not we put the strong Law on him, Hee's lou'd of the distracted multitude, Who like not in their iudgement, but their eyes, And where tis so, th'offenders scourge is wayed But neuer the offence: to beare all smooth and euen, This suddaine sending him away must seeme Deliberate pause, diseases desperate growne, By desperate applyance are relieu'd Or not at all. Enter Rosencraus and all the rest. King. How now, what hath befalne? Ros. Where the dead body is bestowd my Lord We cannot get from him. King. But where is he? Ros. Without my Lord, guarded to know your pleasure. Kidg. Bring him before vs. Ros. Hoe, bring in the Lord.They Enter. King. Now Hamlet, where's Polonius? Ham. At supper. King. At supper where. Ham.

Not where he eates, but where a is eaten, a certaine conua­ cation of politique wormes are een at him: your worme is your only Emperour for dyet, we fat all creatures else to fat vs, and we fat our selues for maggots, your fat King and your leane begger is but varia­ ble seruice, two dishes but to one table, that's the end.

 King. Alasse, alasse. Ham.

A man may fish with the worme that hath eate of a King, eate of the fish that hath fedde of that worme.

 King. What dost thou meane by this? Ham. Nothing but to shew you how a King may go a progresse K2 through The Tragedy of Hamlet through the guttes of a begger. King. Where is Polonius? Ham.

In heauen, send thether to see, if your messenger find him not there, seeke him i'th other place your selfe, but if indeed you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you goe vppe the stayres into the Lobby.

 King. Goe seeke him there Ham. A will stay till you come. King. Hamlet this deede for thine especiall safety Which wee do tender, as wee deerely greeue For that which thou hast done, must send thee hence: Therefore prepare thy selfe, The barke is ready, and the wind at helpe, Th'assotiats tend, and euery thing is 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 Cherub that sees them, but come for England, Farewell deere mother. King. Thy louing father Hamlet. Ham. My mother, father and mother is man and wife, Man and wife is one flesh, so my mother: Come for England,Exit– King. Follow him at foote, Tempt him with speede abourd, Delay it not, Ile haue him hence to night. Away, for euery thing is seald and done That els leanes on the affaire, pray you make hast, And England if my loue thou hold'st at ought, As my great power thereof may giue thee sence, Since yet thy Cicatrice lookes raw and red, After the Danish sword, and thy freee awe Payes homage to vs, thou maist not coldly set Our soueraigne processe, which imports at full By letters congruing to that effect The present death of Hamlet, do it England, For like the Hectique in my blood hee rages, And And thou must cure me till I know tis done, How ere my haps, my ioyes will nere beginne. Exit. Enter Fortinbrasse with his Armie ouer the Stage. Fortin. Goe Captaine, from mee greet the Danish King, Tell him, that by his lycence Fortinbrasse Craues the conueyance of a promis'd march Ouer his kingdome, you know the rendezuous, If that his maiesty would ought with vs, Wee shall expresse our duty in his eye, And let him know so. Cap. I will doo't my Lord. Fortin. Goe softly on. Enter Hamlet, Rosencraus, &c. Ham. Good sir whose powers are these? Cap. The are of Norway sir. Ham. How proposd sir I pray you? Cap. Aainst some part of Poland. Ham. Who commands them sir? Cap. The Nephew to old Norway, Fortinbrasse. Ham. Goes it against the maine of Poland sir? Or for some frontire? Cap. Truely to speake, and with no addition, We goe to gaine a little patch of ground That hath in it no profit but the name To pay fiue duckets, fiue I would not farme it? Nor will it yeeld to Norway or the Pole A rancker rate, should it bee sould in fee. Ham. Why then the Pollacke neuer will defend it. Cap Yes it is already garisond. Ham– Two thousand soules and twenty thousand duckets Will not debate the question of this straw, This is th'impostume of much wealth and peace, That inward breakes and shewes no cause w ithout Why the man dies. I humbly thanke you sir. Cap. God buy you sir. Ros. Wil't please you goe my Lord? Ham. Ile be with you straight, goe a little before. How all occasions do informe against mee, K3 An And spur my dull reuenge. What is a man If his chiefe good and market of his time Be but to sleepe and feed, a beast, no more: Sure he that made vs with suh large discourse Looking before and after, gaue vs not That capability and God‐like reason To fust in vs vnusd, now whether it be Bestiall obliuion, or some crauen scruple Of thinking too precisely on th'euent, A thought which quartered hath but one part wisdome, And euer three parts coward, I doe not know Why yet I liue to say this thing's to doe, ith I haue cause, and wil and strength, and meanes o doo't; examples grosse as earth exhort me, Witnes this Army of such masse and charge, ed by a delicate and tender Prince, Whose spirit with diuine ambition puft, Makes mouthes at the inuisible euent, xposing what is mortall, and vnsure, o all that fortune, death and danger dare, uen for an Egge‐shell. Rightly to be great, s not to stirre without great argument, ut greatly to find quarrell in a straw hen honour's at the stake. How stand I then hat haue a father kild, a mother staind, xcytements of my reason, and my blood, nd let all sleepe, while to my shame I see he iminent death of twenty thousand men, hat for a fantasie and tricke of fame oe to their graues like beds, fight for a plot hereon the numbers cannot try the cause, hich is not tombe enough and continent o hide the slaine. O from this time forth, y thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth. Exit. Enter Horatio, Gertrard, and a Gentleman. Quee. I will not speake with her, Gsn. She is importunat, deed distract, her moode will needes be pittied. Quee. Prince of Denmarke. Quee. What would she haue? Gent., She speakes much of hcr father, sayes shee heares There's tricks i'th world, and hems, and beats her heart, Spurnes enuiously at strawes, speakes things in doubt That carry but halfe sence, her speech is nothing, Yet the vnshaped vse of it doth moue The hearers to collection, they yawne at it, And botch the words vp fit to their owne thoughts, Which as winckes, and nods, and gestures yeeld them, Indeede would make one thinke there might be thought Though nothing sure, yet much vnhappily. Hora. Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strew Dangerous coniectures in ill‐breeeding mindes, Let her come in. Enter Ophelia. Quee. ‘To my sicke soule, as sinnes true nature is, ‘Each toy seemes prologue to some great amisse, ‘So full of artlesse iealosie is guilt, ‘It spills it selfe, in fearing to be spilt. Oph. Where is the beauteous Maiesty of Denmarke? Quee. How now Ophelia.she sings. Oph. How should I your true loue know from another one, By his cockle hat and staffe, and his Sendall shoone. Quee. Alasse sweet Lady, what imports this song? Oph. Say you, nay pray you marke, He is dead and gone Lady, he is dead and gone,Song. At his head a grasse greene turph, at his heeles a stone. O ho. Quee. Nay but Ophelia. Oph. Pray you marke. White his shrowd as the mountaine snow. Enter King. Quee. Alasse looke heere my Lord. Ophe Larded all with sweet flowers, Which beweept to the ground did not goSong. With true loue showers. King. How doe you pretty Lady? Oph. Well good dild you, they say the Owle was a Bakers daugh­ ter, Lord wee know what wee are, but know not what we may be, God be at your table The Tragedy of Hamlet King. Conceit vpon her Father.