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This bodiless creation ecstasy1
Is very cunning in.
Ham. Ecstacy!

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

Ham. O, throw away the worser part of it,
And live the purer with the other half.
Good night but go not to my uncle's bed;
Assume a virtue, if you have it not.

That monster, custoin, who all sense doth eat
Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this;
That to the use of actions fair and good
He likewise gives a frock, or livery,
That aptly is put on: Refrain to-night;
And that shall lend a kind of easiness

To the next abstinence; the next more easy:
For use almost can change the stamp of nature,
And either curb the devil, or throw him out
With wondrous potency. Once more, good night!
And when you are desirous to be bless'd,
I'll blessing beg of you.-For this same lord,

[Pointing to Polonius.
I do repent: But heaven hath pleas'd it so,-
To punish me with this, and this with me,
That I must be their scourge and minister.
I will bestow him, and will answer well

The death I gave him. So, again, good night!-
I must be cruel, only to be kind:

Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.-
But one word more, good lady.

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

Queen. Be thou assur'd, if words be made of

breath,

And breath of life, I have no life to breathe
What thou hast said to me.

Ham. I must to England; you know that?
Queen.

(1) Frenzy. (2) Manure.

Alack,

(3) Bend.

(4) A term of endearment.

(5) Steaming with heat.

(7) Cat. (8) Experiments.

(6) Toad.

VOL. II.

I had forgot; 'tis so concluded on.
Ham. There's letters sealed: and my two school
fellows,-

Whom I will trust, as I will adders fang'd,'—
They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way,
And marshal me to knavery: Let it work;
For 'tis the sport, to have the engineer
Hoist with his own petar:10 and it shall go hard,
But I will delve one yard below their mines,
And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet,
When in one line two crafts directly meet.-
This man shall set me packing.

I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room :-
Mother, good night.-Indeed, this counsellor
Is now most still, most secret, and most grave,
Who was in life a foolish prating knave.
Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you :-
Good night, mother.

[Exeunt severally; Hamlet dragging in
Polonius.

ACT IV.

Enter King, Queen,

SCENE 1.-The same.
Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.

King. There's matter in these sighs; these profound heaves;

You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them
Where is your son?

Queen. Bestow this place on us a little while.[To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who go out. Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night! King. What, Gertrude? how does Hamlet? Queen. Mad as the sea, and wind, when both contend

Which is the mightier: In his lawless fit,
Behind the arras hearing something stir,
Whips out his rapier, cries, A rat! a rat!
And, in this brainish apprehension, kills
The unseen good old man.

King.

O heavy deed!
It had been so with us, had we been there :
His liberty is full of threats to all;
To you yourself, to us, to every one.
Alas! how shall this bloody deed be answer'd?
It will be laid to us, whose providence
Should have kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt,'
This mad young man: but, so much was our love,
We would not understand what was most fit:

But, like the owner of a foul disease,
To keep it from divulging, let it feed
Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone?

Queen. To draw apart the body he hath kill'd:
O'er whom his very madness, like some ore,
Among a mineral' of metals base,
Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done.
King. O, Gertrude, come away!
The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch,
But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed
We must, with all our majesty and skill,
Both countenance and excuse.-Ho! Guildenstert.
Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Friends both, go join you with some further aid:
Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,
And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him:
Go, seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body

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Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this.
[Exeunt Ros. and Guil.
Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends;
And let them know, both what we mean to do,
And what's untimely done: so, haply, slander,-
Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,
As level as the cannon to his blank,'
Transports his poison'd shot,-may miss our name,
And hit the woundless air.-0 come away;
My soul is full of discord, and dismay. [Exeunt.
SCENE II-Another room in the same. En-
ter Hamlet.

Ham. -Safely stowed,- -[Ros. &c. within. Hamlet! lord Hamlet!] But soft!-what noise? who calls on Hamlet? O, here they come.

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Ros. What have you done, my lord, with the

dead body?

Ham. Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin. Ros. Tell us where 'tis; that we may take it thence,

And bear it to the chapel.

Ham. Do not believe it.

Ros. Believe what?

Ham. That I can keep your counsel, and not mine own. Besides, to be demanded of a sponge ! -what replication should be made by the son of a king?

King. Bring him before us.
Ros. Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord.
Enter Hamlet and Guildenstern.

King Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
Ham. At supper.

King. At supper? Where?

Ham. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all crcatures else, to fat us; and we fat ourselves for maggots: Your fat king, and your lean beggar, is but variable service; two dishes, but to one table; that's the end.

King. Alas, alas!

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

King. What dost thou mean by this? Ham. Nothing, but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar. King. Where is Polonius?

Ham. In heaven; send thither to see if your messenger find him not there, seek him i'the other place yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby.

King. Go seek him there. [To some Attendants. Ham. He will stay till you come.

[Exeunt Attendants. King. Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,

hence

Ros. Take you me for a sponge, my lord? Ham. Ay, sir; that soaks up the king's counte- Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve nance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers For that which thou hast done,-must send thee do the king best service in the end: He keeps them: like an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to be last swallowed: When he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again.

Ros. I understand you not, my lord. Ham. I am glad of it: A knavish speech sleeps in a fooolish ear.

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

Ham. The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thing-Guil. A thing, my lord?

Ham. Of nothing bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after.2 [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Another room in the same. Enter King, attended.

King. I have sent to seek him, and to find the body.

How dangerous is it, that this man goes loose!
Yet must not we put the strong law on him:
He's lov'd of the distracted multitude,

Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;
And, where 'tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd,
But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even,
This sudden sending him away must seem
Deliberate pause: Diseases, desperate grown,
By desperate appliance are reliev'd,

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With fiery quickness: Therefore, prepare thyself;
The bark is ready, and the wind at help,3
The associates tend, and every thing is bent
For England.
For England?

Ham. King. Ham.

Good.

Ay, Hamlet. King. So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. Ham. I see a cherub, that sees them.-But, come, for England!-Farewell, dear mother. King. Thy loving father, Hamlet. Ham. My mother: Father and mother is mar and wife; man and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England. [Exit.

King. Follow him at foot; tempt him with speec aboard;

Delay it not, I'll have him hence to-night:
Away; for every thing is seal'd and done
That else leans on the affair: Pray you, make haste.
[Exeunt Ros. and Guil.
And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught,
(As my great power thereof may give thee sense;
Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red
After the Danish sword, and thy free awe
Pays homage to us,) thou may'st not coldly set
Our sovereign process; which imports at full,
By letters conjuring to that effect,

The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;
For like the hectic in my blood he rages,

6

And thou must cure me: Till I know 'tis done, Howe'er my haps, my joys will ne'er begin. [Ex. SCENE IV-A plain in Denmark. Enter Fortinbras, and Forces, marching.

For. Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king; Tell him, that, by his license, Fortinbras

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Commands them, sir?

Who

Cap. The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras. Ham. Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, Or for some frontier?

Cap. Truly to speak, sir, and with no addition, We go to gain a little patch of ground, That hath in it no profit but the name. To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it; Nor will it yield to Norway, or the Pole, A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee. Ham. Why, then the Polack' never will defend it. Cap. Yes, is already garrison'd.

Ham. Two thousand souls, and twenty thousand ducats,

Will not debate the question of this straw:
This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace:
That inward breaks, and shows no cause without
Why the man dies.-I humbly thank you, sir.
Cap. God be wi' you, sir. [Exit Captain.
Ros.
Will't please you go, my lord?
Ham. I will be with you straight. Go a little
before.
[Exeunt Ros. and Guil.
How all occasions do inform against me,
And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
If his chief good, and market of his time,
Be but to sleep, and feed? a beast, no more.
Sure, he, that made us with such large discourse,"
Looking before, and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason,

To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event,-

A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part

wisdom,

And, ever, three parts coward,-I do not know
Why yet I live to say, This thing's to do;
Sith I have cause, and will, and strength, and

means,

To do't. Examples, gross as earth, exhort me:
Witness, this army of such mass, and charge,
Led by a delicate and tender prince;

Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd,
Makes mouths at the invisible event;
Exposing what is mortal, and unsure,

To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare,
Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great,
Is, not to stir without great argument;
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,
When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
Excitements of my reason, and my blood,
And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds; fight for a plot

(2) Forces. (3) Polander.
(5) Power of comprehension.
(7) Cowardly` (8) Since.

(1) Presence. (4) Profit. (6) Grow mouldy.

Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough, and continent,
To hide the slain ?-O, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloodý, or be nothing worth. [Ex.
SCENE V.-Elsinore. A room in the castle.
Enter Queen and Horatio.

Queen. I will not speak with her.
Hor. She is importunate; indeed, distract;

Her mood will needs be pitied.

Queen.

What would she have? Hor. She speaks much of her father; says, she hears,

There's tricks i'the world; and hems, and beats her heart;

Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,
That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing,
Yet the unshaped use of it doth move

The hearers to collection; they aim at it,
And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;
Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures, yield
them,

Indeed would make one think, there might be thought,

Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
Queen. 'Twere good she were spoken with; for
Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds:
she may strew
Exit Horatio.

Let her come in.

Each toy10 seems prologue to some great amiss:
To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,
So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

Re-enter Horatio, with Ophelia.

Oph. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?

Queen. How now, Ophelia?

Oph. How should I your true-love know

From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff,

And his sandal shoon.

[Singing.

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Queen. Alas, look here, my lord.

Oph.

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

King. How do you, pretty lady?

Oph. Well, God 'ield' you! They say, the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table!

King. Conceit upon her father.

Oph. Pray, let us have no words of this; but when they ask you, what it means, say you this:

(9) Guess. (10) Trifle. (12) Garnished.

(11) Shoe. (13) Reward.

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So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,
An thou hadst not come to my bed.

King. How long hath she been thus? Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot choose but weep, to think, they should lay him i'the cold ground: My brother shall know of it, and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my couch! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies: good night, good night. [Ex. King. Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you. [Exit Horatio. O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's death: And now behold, O Gertrude, Gertrude,

When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions! First, her father slain;
Next, your son gone; and he most violent author
Of his own just remove: The people muddied,
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and
whispers,

For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,+

In hugger-muggers to inter him: Poor Ophelia
Divided from herself, and her fair judgment;
Without the which we are pictures, er mere beasts.
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France :
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death;
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering piece, in many places
Gives me superfluous death! [A noise within.
Queen.
Alack! what noise is this?
Enter a Gentleman.

King. Attend.

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

Gent.

Save yourself, my lord;
The ocean, overpeering of his list,"
Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste,
Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,

O'erbears your officers! The rabble call him, lord:
And, as the world were now but to begin,

(1) Do on, i. e. put on. (2) Do up.
(3) Saints in the Roman-catholic calendar.
(4) Without judgment. (5) Privately.
(6) Guards. (7) Bounds. (8) Scent.

I

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me bastard;

Cries, cuckold, to my father; brands the harlot
Even here, between the chaste unsmirched1o brow
Of my true mother.
King.
What is the cause, Laertes,
That thy rebellion looks so giant-like ?-
Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person;
There's such divinity doth hedge a king,
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts little of his will.-Tell me, Laertes,
Why thou art thus incens'd; Let him go, Ger-
trude ;-
Speak, man.

Laer. Where is my father?
King.
Queen.

Dead.

But not by him.

King. Let him demand his fill.
Laer. How came he dead? I'll not be juggled

with:

To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil!
Conscience, and grace, to the profoundest pit!
dare damnation: To this point I stand,—
That both the worlds I give to negligence,
Let come what comes; only I'll be reveng'd
Most thoroughly for my father.
King.
Who shall stay you?

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

King.

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

Laer. None but his enemies.
King.
Will you know them then?
Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my

arms;

And, like the kind life-rend'ring pelican, : Repast them with my blood. King.

Why, now you speab

Like a good child, and a true gentleman.
That I am guiltless of your father's death,
And am most sensibly in grief for it,
It shall as level to your judgment 'pear,11
As day does to your eye.

Danes. [Within.]

Let her come in.

Laer. How now! what noise is that?

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Enter Ophelia, fantastically dressed with straws
and flowers.

O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,
Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!-
By heaven, thy madness shall be paid with weight,
Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May !
Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!

O heavens is't possible, a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?
Nature is fine' in love: and, where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of itself
After the thing it loves.

Oph. They bore him barefac'd on the bier ;
Hey no nonny, nonny hey nonny :
And in his grave rain'd many a tear ;—
Fare you well, my dove!

Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,

It could not move thus.

Oph. You must sing, Down-a-down, an you call him a-down-a. O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole his master's daughter. Laer. This nothing's more than matter. Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember; and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

Laer. A document in madness; thoughts and remembrance fitted.

That I must call't in question.
King.

So you shall;

[Exeunt. En

And where the offence is, let the great axe fall:
pray you, go with me.

I

SCENE VI.-Another room in the same.
ter Horatio, and a Servant.

Hor. What are they, that would speak with me?
Serv.
Sailors, sir;

They say they have letters for you.
Hor.

Let them come in.-
[Exit Servant.
I do not know from what part of the world
I should be greeted, if not from lord Hamlet.
Enter Sailors.

1 Sail. God bless you, sir.
Hor. Let him bless thee too.

1 Sail. He shall, sir, an't please him. There's a letter for you, sir: it comes from the ambassador that was bound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I am led to know it is.

Hor. [Reads.] Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the king; they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment, gave us chace: Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled vulour; and Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines: in the grapple I boarded them on the instant they -there's rue for you; and here's some for me:- got clear of our ship; so I alone became their we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays:-you prisoner. may wear your rue with a difference.-There's a daisy:-I would give you some violets; but they withered all, when my father died:-They say, he made a good end,—

-

They have dealt with me, like thieves of mercy; but they knew what they did; I am to do a good turn for them. Let the king have the letters I have sent; and repair thou to me with as I have much haste as thou would'st fly death. words to speak in thine ear, will make thee dumb; yet are they much too light for the bore of the

For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,- [Sings. Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England: of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.

She turns to favour, and to prettiness.

Oph. And will he not come again?

And will he not come again?

No, no, he is dead,

Go to thy death-bed,

He never will come again.

His beard was as white as snow,

All flaxen was his poll:

He is gone, he is gone,

And we cast away moan;

God 'a mercy on his soul!

[Sings.

And of all Christian souls! I pray God. God be
wi' you!
[Exit Ophelia.
Laer. Do you see this, O God?
King. Laertes, I must commune with your grief,
Or you deny me right. Go but apart,
Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will,
And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me:
If by direct or by collateral hand

They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,
Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,
To you in satisfaction; but, if not,

Be you content to lend your patience to us,
And we shall jointly labour with your soul
To give it due content.

Laer.

Let this be so;
His means of death, his obscure funeral,-
No trophy, sword, nor hatchment, o'er his bones,
No noble rite, nor formal ostentation,-
Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth,

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He that thou knowest thine, Hamlet.
Come, I will give you way for these your letters;
And do't the speedier, that you may direct me
To him from whom you brought them. [Exeunt..
SCENE VII.-Another room in the sume.
ter King and Laertes.

En

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Lives almost by his looks; and for myself,
(My virtue, or my plague, be it either which,)
She is so conjunctive to my life and soul,
That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,
I could not but by her. The other motive,
Why to a public count I might not go,
(5) Since.

(4) Melancholy.
(6) Deprived of strength.

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