62 William Shaksepeare: Hamlet: Act 1

Hamlet

By William Shakespeare

Edited by Barbara A. Mowat and Paul Werstine

with Michael Poston and Rebecca Niles

Folger Shakespeare Library

https://shakespeare.folger.edu/shakespeares-works/hamlet/

Created on Apr 23, 2016, from FDT version 0.9.2.

Characters in the Play

THE GHOST

HAMLET, Prince of Denmark, son of the late King Hamlet and Queen Gertrude

QUEEN GERTRUDE, widow of King Hamlet, now married to Claudius

KING CLAUDIUS, brother to the late King Hamlet

OPHELIA

LAERTES, her brother

POLONIUS, father of Ophelia and Laertes, councillor to King Claudius

REYNALDO, servant to Polonius

HORATIO, Hamlet’s friend and confidant

Courtiers at the Danish court:

VOLTEMAND

CORNELIUS

ROSENCRANTZ

GUILDENSTERN

OSRIC

Gentlemen

A Lord

Danish soldiers:

FRANCISCO

BARNARDO

MARCELLUS

FORTINBRAS, Prince of Norway

A Captain in Fortinbras’s army

Ambassadors to Denmark from England

Players who take the roles of Prologue, Player King, Player Queen, and Lucianus in The Murder of Gonzago

Two Messengers

Sailors

Gravedigger

Gravedigger’s companion

Doctor of Divinity

Attendants, Lords, Guards, Musicians, Laertes’s Followers, Soldiers, Officers

ACT 1

Scene 1

Enter Barnardo and Francisco, two sentinels.

BARNARDO Who’s there?

FRANCISCO

Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.

BARNARDO Long live the King!

FRANCISCO Barnardo?

BARNARDO He.                                                                                    5

FRANCISCO

You come most carefully upon your hour.

BARNARDO

’Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed, Francisco.

FRANCISCO

For this relief much thanks. ’Tis bitter cold,

And I am sick at heart.

BARNARDO Have you had quiet guard?                                            10

FRANCISCO Not a mouse stirring.

BARNARDO Well, good night.

If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,

The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

FRANCISCO

I think I hear them.—Stand ho! Who is there?                              15

HORATIO Friends to this ground.

MARCELLUS And liegemen to the Dane.

FRANCISCO Give you good night.

MARCELLUS

O farewell, honest soldier. Who hath relieved

you?                                                                                                20

FRANCISCO

Barnardo hath my place. Give you good night.

Francisco exits.

MARCELLUS Holla, Barnardo.

BARNARDO Say, what, is Horatio there?

HORATIO A piece of him.

BARNARDO

Welcome, Horatio.—Welcome, good Marcellus.                       25

HORATIO

What, has this thing appeared again tonight?

BARNARDO I have seen nothing.

MARCELLUS

Horatio says ’tis but our fantasy

And will not let belief take hold of him

Touching this dreaded sight twice seen of us.                            30

Therefore I have entreated him along

With us to watch the minutes of this night,

That, if again this apparition come,

He may approve our eyes and speak to it.

HORATIO

Tush, tush, ’twill not appear.                                                         35

BARNARDO Sit down awhile,

And let us once again assail your ears,

That are so fortified against our story,

What we have two nights seen.

HORATIO Well, sit we down,                                                              40

And let us hear Barnardo speak of this.

BARNARDO Last night of all,

When yond same star that’s westward from the pole

Had made his course t’ illume that part of heaven

Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,                                  45

The bell then beating one—

Enter Ghost.

MARCELLUS

Peace, break thee off! Look where it comes again.

BARNARDO

In the same figure like the King that’s dead.

MARCELLUS, to Horatio

Thou art a scholar. Speak to it, Horatio.

BARNARDO

Looks he not like the King? Mark it, Horatio.                            50

HORATIO

Most like. It harrows me with fear and wonder.

BARNARDO

It would be spoke to.

MARCELLUS Speak to it, Horatio.

HORATIO

What art thou that usurp’st this time of night,

Together with that fair and warlike form                                   55

In which the majesty of buried Denmark

Did sometimes march? By heaven, I charge thee,

speak.

MARCELLUS

It is offended.

BARNARDO See, it stalks away.                                                      60

HORATIO

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

Ghost exits.

MARCELLUS ’Tis gone and will not answer.

BARNARDO

How now, Horatio, you tremble and look pale.

Is not this something more than fantasy?

What think you on ’t?                                                                       65

HORATIO

Before my God, I might not this believe

Without the sensible and true avouch

Of mine own eyes.

MARCELLUS Is it not like the King?

HORATIO As thou art to thyself.                                                      70

Such was the very armor he had on

When he the ambitious Norway combated.

So frowned he once when, in an angry parle,

He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice.

’Tis strange.                                                                                      75

MARCELLUS

Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,

With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.

HORATIO

In what particular thought to work I know not,

But in the gross and scope of mine opinion

This bodes some strange eruption to our state.                           80

MARCELLUS

Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,

Why this same strict and most observant watch

So nightly toils the subject of the land,

And why such daily cast of brazen cannon

And foreign mart for implements of war,                                     85

Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task

Does not divide the Sunday from the week.

What might be toward that this sweaty haste

Doth make the night joint laborer with the day?

Who is ’t that can inform me?                                                         90

HORATIO That can I.

At least the whisper goes so: our last king,

Whose image even but now appeared to us,

Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,

Thereto pricked on by a most emulate pride,                                 95

Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet

(For so this side of our known world esteemed him)

Did slay this Fortinbras, who by a sealed compact,

Well ratified by law and heraldry,

Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands                                     100

Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror.

Against the which a moiety competent

Was gagèd by our king, which had returned

To the inheritance of Fortinbras

Had he been vanquisher, as, by the same comart                          105

And carriage of the article designed,

His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,

Of unimprovèd mettle hot and full,

Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there

Sharked up a list of lawless resolutes                                               110

For food and diet to some enterprise

That hath a stomach in ’t; which is no other

(As it doth well appear unto our state)

But to recover of us, by strong hand

And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands                                 115

So by his father lost. And this, I take it,

Is the main motive of our preparations,

The source of this our watch, and the chief head

Of this posthaste and rummage in the land.

BARNARDO

I think it be no other but e’en so.                                                           120

Well may it sort that this portentous figure

Comes armèd through our watch so like the king

That was and is the question of these wars.

HORATIO

A mote it is to trouble the mind’s eye.

In the most high and palmy state of Rome,                                         125

A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,

The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead

Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets;

As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,

Disasters in the sun; and the moist star,                                             130

Upon whose influence Neptune’s empire stands,

Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.

And even the like precurse of feared events,

As harbingers preceding still the fates

And prologue to the omen coming on,                                                  135

Have heaven and Earth together demonstrated

Unto our climatures and countrymen.

Enter Ghost.

But soft, behold! Lo, where it comes again!

I’ll cross it though it blast me.—Stay, illusion!

It spreads his arms.

If thou hast any sound or use of voice,                                                140

Speak to me.

If there be any good thing to be done

That may to thee do ease and grace to me,

Speak to me.

If thou art privy to thy country’s fate,                                                    145

Which happily foreknowing may avoid,

O, speak!

Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life

Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,

For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,                                150

Speak of it.The cock crows.

Stay and speak!—Stop it, Marcellus.

MARCELLUS

Shall I strike it with my partisan?

HORATIO Do, if it will not stand.

BARNARDO ’Tis here.                                                                                     155

HORATIO ’Tis here.

Ghost exits.

MARCELLUS ’Tis gone.

We do it wrong, being so majestical,

To offer it the show of violence,

For it is as the air, invulnerable,                                                               160

And our vain blows malicious mockery.

BARNARDO

It was about to speak when the cock crew.

HORATIO

And then it started like a guilty thing

Upon a fearful summons. I have heard

The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,                                         165

Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat

Awake the god of day, and at his warning,

Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,

Th’ extravagant and erring spirit hies

To his confine, and of the truth herein                                                 170

This present object made probation.

MARCELLUS

It faded on the crowing of the cock.

Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes

Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated,

This bird of dawning singeth all night long;                                           175

And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad,

The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,

So hallowed and so gracious is that time.

HORATIO

So have I heard and do in part believe it.                                               180

But look, the morn in russet mantle clad

Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward hill.

Break we our watch up, and by my advice

Let us impart what we have seen tonight

Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,                                                   185

This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.

Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it

As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?

MARCELLUS

Let’s do ’t, I pray, and I this morning know

Where we shall find him most convenient.                                             190

They exit.

Scene 2

Flourish. Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrude the
Queen, the Council, as Polonius, and his son Laertes,

Hamlet, with others, among them Voltemand and

Cornelius.

KING

Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother’s death

The memory be green, and that it us befitted

To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom

To be contracted in one brow of woe,

Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature                                        5

That we with wisest sorrow think on him

Together with remembrance of ourselves.

Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,

Th’ imperial jointress to this warlike state,

Have we (as ’twere with a defeated joy,                                                   10

With an auspicious and a dropping eye,

With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,

In equal scale weighing delight and dole)

Taken to wife. Nor have we herein barred

Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone                                            15

With this affair along. For all, our thanks.

Now follows that you know. Young Fortinbras,

Holding a weak supposal of our worth

Or thinking by our late dear brother’s death

Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,                                                     20

Colleaguèd with this dream of his advantage,

He hath not failed to pester us with message

Importing the surrender of those lands

Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,

To our most valiant brother—so much for him.                                           25

Now for ourself and for this time of meeting.

Thus much the business is: we have here writ

To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,

Who, impotent and bedrid, scarcely hears

Of this his nephew’s purpose, to suppress                                                 30

His further gait herein, in that the levies,

The lists, and full proportions are all made

Out of his subject; and we here dispatch

You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,

For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,                                                   35

Giving to you no further personal power

To business with the King more than the scope

Of these dilated articles allow.

Giving them a paper.

Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.

CORNELIUS/VOLTEMAND

In that and all things will we show our duty.                                                   40

KING

We doubt it nothing. Heartily farewell.

Voltemand and Cornelius exit.

And now, Laertes, what’s the news with you?

You told us of some suit. What is ’t, Laertes?

You cannot speak of reason to the Dane

And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg,                                                   45

Laertes,

That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?

The head is not more native to the heart,

The hand more instrumental to the mouth,

Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father,                                                  50

What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

LAERTES My dread lord,

Your leave and favor to return to France,

From whence though willingly I came to Denmark

To show my duty in your coronation,                                                              55

Yet now I must confess, that duty done,

My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France

And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

KING

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

POLONIUS

Hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave                                                 60

By laborsome petition, and at last

Upon his will I sealed my hard consent.

I do beseech you give him leave to go.

KING

Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine,

And thy best graces spend it at thy will.—                                                      65

But now, my cousin Hamlet and my son—

HAMLET, aside

A little more than kin and less than kind.

KING

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

HAMLET

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

QUEEN

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off,                                                     70

And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

Do not forever with thy vailèd lids

Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Thou know’st ’tis common; all that lives must die,

Passing through nature to eternity.                                                           75

HAMLET

Ay, madam, it is common.

QUEEN If it be,

Why seems it so particular with thee?

HAMLET

“Seems,” madam? Nay, it is. I know not “seems.”

’Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,                                                       80

Nor customary suits of solemn black,

Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,

No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

Nor the dejected havior of the visage,

Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief,                                              85

That can denote me truly. These indeed “seem,”

For they are actions that a man might play;

But I have that within which passes show,

These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

KING

’Tis sweet and commendable in your nature,                                               90

Hamlet,

To give these mourning duties to your father.

But you must know your father lost a father,

That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound

In filial obligation for some term                                                                   95

To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever

In obstinate condolement is a course

Of impious stubbornness. ’Tis unmanly grief.

It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,

A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,                                                      100

An understanding simple and unschooled.

For what we know must be and is as common

As any the most vulgar thing to sense,

Why should we in our peevish opposition

Take it to heart? Fie, ’tis a fault to heaven,                                             105

A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,

To reason most absurd, whose common theme

Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,

From the first corse till he that died today,

“This must be so.” We pray you, throw to earth                                    110

This unprevailing woe and think of us

As of a father; for let the world take note,

You are the most immediate to our throne,

And with no less nobility of love

Than that which dearest father bears his son                                       115

Do I impart toward you. For your intent

In going back to school in Wittenberg,

It is most retrograde to our desire,

And we beseech you, bend you to remain

Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,                                           120

Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.

QUEEN

Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.

I pray thee, stay with us. Go not to Wittenberg.

HAMLET

I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

KING

Why, ’tis a loving and a fair reply.                                                         125

Be as ourself in Denmark.—Madam, come.

This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet

Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof

No jocund health that Denmark drinks today

But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,                                    130

And the King’s rouse the heaven shall bruit again,

Respeaking earthly thunder. Come away.

Flourish. All but Hamlet exit.

HAMLET

O, that this too, too sullied flesh would melt,

Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,

Or that the Everlasting had not fixed                                                  135

His canon ’gainst self-slaughter! O God, God,

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable

Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Fie on ’t, ah fie! ’Tis an unweeded garden

That grows to seed. Things rank and gross in nature                       140

Possess it merely. That it should come to this:

But two months dead—nay, not so much, not two.

So excellent a king, that was to this

Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother

That he might not beteem the winds of heaven                                 145

Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and Earth,

Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him

As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on. And yet, within a month

(Let me not think on ’t; frailty, thy name is woman!),                        150

A little month, or ere those shoes were old

With which she followed my poor father’s body,

Like Niobe, all tears—why she, even she

(O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason

Would have mourned longer!), married with my                                155

uncle,

My father’s brother, but no more like my father

Than I to Hercules. Within a month,

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

Had left the flushing in her gallèd eyes,                                                 160

She married. O, most wicked speed, to post

With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

It is not, nor it cannot come to good.

But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Barnardo.

HORATIO Hail to your Lordship.                                                               165

HAMLET I am glad to see you well.

Horatio—or I do forget myself!

HORATIO

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

HAMLET

Sir, my good friend. I’ll change that name with you.

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?—                              170

Marcellus?

MARCELLUS My good lord.

HAMLET

I am very glad to see you. To Barnardo. Good

even, sir.—

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?                                 175

HORATIO

A truant disposition, good my lord.

HAMLET

I would not hear your enemy say so,

Nor shall you do my ear that violence

To make it truster of your own report

Against yourself. I know you are no truant.                                           180

But what is your affair in Elsinore?

We’ll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

HORATIO

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

HAMLET

I prithee, do not mock me, fellow student.

I think it was to see my mother’s wedding.                                         185

HORATIO

Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.

HAMLET

Thrift, thrift, Horatio. The funeral baked meats

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!                                             190

My father—methinks I see my father.

HORATIO

Where, my lord?

HAMLET In my mind’s eye, Horatio.

HORATIO

I saw him once. He was a goodly king.

HAMLET

He was a man. Take him for all in all,                                             195

I shall not look upon his like again.

HORATIO

My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

HAMLET Saw who?

HORATIO

My lord, the King your father.

HAMLET The King my father?                                                       200

HORATIO

Season your admiration for a while

With an attent ear, till I may deliver

Upon the witness of these gentlemen

This marvel to you.

HAMLET For God’s love, let me hear!                                       205

HORATIO

Two nights together had these gentlemen,

Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch,

In the dead waste and middle of the night,

Been thus encountered: a figure like your father,

Armed at point exactly, cap-à-pie,                                        210

Appears before them and with solemn march

Goes slow and stately by them. Thrice he walked

By their oppressed and fear-surprisèd eyes

Within his truncheon’s length, whilst they, distilled

Almost to jelly with the act of fear,                                          215

Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me

In dreadful secrecy impart they did,

And I with them the third night kept the watch,

Where, as they had delivered, both in time,

Form of the thing (each word made true and good),               220

The apparition comes. I knew your father;

These hands are not more like.

HAMLET But where was this?

MARCELLUS

My lord, upon the platform where we watch.

HAMLET

Did you not speak to it?                                                             225

HORATIO My lord, I did,

But answer made it none. Yet once methought

It lifted up its head and did address

Itself to motion, like as it would speak;

But even then the morning cock crew loud,                           230

And at the sound it shrunk in haste away

And vanished from our sight.

HAMLET ’Tis very strange.

HORATIO

As I do live, my honored lord, ’tis true.

And we did think it writ down in our duty                              235

To let you know of it.

HAMLET Indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.

Hold you the watch tonight?

ALL We do, my lord.

HAMLET

Armed, say you?                                                                            240

ALL Armed, my lord.

HAMLET From top to toe?

ALL My lord, from head to foot.

HAMLET Then saw you not his face?

HORATIO

O, yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.                                     245

HAMLET What, looked he frowningly?

HORATIO

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

HAMLET Pale or red?

HORATIO

Nay, very pale.

HAMLET And fixed his eyes upon you?                                       250

HORATIO

Most constantly.

HAMLET I would I had been there.

HORATIO It would have much amazed you.

HAMLET Very like. Stayed it long?

HORATIO

While one with moderate haste might tell a                          255

hundred.

BARNARDO/MARCELLUS Longer, longer.

HORATIO

Not when I saw ’t.

HAMLET His beard was grizzled, no?

HORATIO

It was as I have seen it in his life,                                                260

A sable silvered.

HAMLET I will watch tonight.

Perchance ’twill walk again.

HORATIO I warrant it will.

HAMLET

If it assume my noble father’s person,                                        265

I’ll speak to it, though hell itself should gape

And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,

If you have hitherto concealed this sight,

Let it be tenable in your silence still;

And whatsomever else shall hap tonight,                                    270

Give it an understanding but no tongue.

I will requite your loves. So fare you well.

Upon the platform, ’twixt eleven and twelve,

I’ll visit you.

ALL Our duty to your Honor.                                                           275

HAMLET

Your loves, as mine to you. Farewell.

All but Hamlet exit.

My father’s spirit—in arms! All is not well.

I doubt some foul play. Would the night were come!

Till then, sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise,

Though all the earth o’erwhelm them, to men’s                         280

eyes.

He exits.

Scene 3

Enter Laertes and Ophelia, his sister.

LAERTES

My necessaries are embarked. Farewell.

And, sister, as the winds give benefit

And convey is assistant, do not sleep,

But let me hear from you.

OPHELIA Do you doubt that?                                                                             5

LAERTES

For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favor,

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,                                                 10

No more.

OPHELIA No more but so?

LAERTES Think it no more.

For nature, crescent, does not grow alone

In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes,                                            15

The inward service of the mind and soul

Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,

And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch

The virtue of his will; but you must fear,

His greatness weighed, his will is not his own,                                        20

For he himself is subject to his birth.

He may not, as unvalued persons do,

Carve for himself, for on his choice depends

The safety and the health of this whole state.

And therefore must his choice be circumscribed.                                  25

Unto the voice and yielding of that body

Whereof he is the head. Then, if he says he loves

you,

It fits your wisdom so far to believe it

As he in his particular act and place.                                                        30

May give his saying deed, which is no further

Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.

Then weigh what loss your honor may sustain

If with too credent ear you list his songs

Or lose your heart or your chaste treasure open                                    35

To his unmastered importunity.

Fear it, Ophelia; fear it, my dear sister,

And keep you in the rear of your affection,

Out of the shot and danger of desire.

The chariest maid is prodigal enough                                                          40

If she unmask her beauty to the moon.

Virtue itself ’scapes not calumnious strokes.

The canker galls the infants of the spring

Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,

And, in the morn and liquid dew of youth,                                                    45

Contagious blastments are most imminent.

Be wary, then; best safety lies in fear.

Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.

OPHELIA

I shall the effect of this good lesson keep

As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,                                         50

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,

Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven,

Whiles, like a puffed and reckless libertine,

Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads

And recks not his own rede.                                                                             55

LAERTES O, fear me not.

Enter Polonius.

I stay too long. But here my father comes.

A double blessing is a double grace.

Occasion smiles upon a second leave.

POLONIUS

Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame!                                         60

The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,

And you are stayed for. There, my blessing with

thee.

And these few precepts in thy memory

Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,                              65

Nor any unproportioned thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.

Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,

Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel,

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment                                         70

Of each new-hatched, unfledged courage. Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in,

Bear ’t that th’ opposèd may beware of thee.

Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice.

Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.                           75

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not expressed in fancy (rich, not gaudy),

For the apparel oft proclaims the man,

And they in France of the best rank and station

Are of a most select and generous chief in that.                                     80

Neither a borrower nor a lender be,

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all: to thine own self be true,

And it must follow, as the night the day,                                                 85

Thou canst not then be false to any man.

Farewell. My blessing season this in thee.

LAERTES

Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.

POLONIUS

The time invests you. Go, your servants tend.

LAERTES

Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well                                                 90

What I have said to you.

OPHELIA ’Tis in my memory locked,

And you yourself shall keep the key of it.

LAERTES Farewell.Laertes exits.

POLONIUS

What is ’t, Ophelia, he hath said to you?                                            95

OPHELIA

So please you, something touching the Lord

Hamlet.

POLONIUS Marry, well bethought.

’Tis told me he hath very oft of late

Given private time to you, and you yourself                                  100

Have of your audience been most free and

bounteous.

If it be so (as so ’tis put on me,

And that in way of caution), I must tell you

You do not understand yourself so clearly                                      105

As it behooves my daughter and your honor.

What is between you? Give me up the truth.

OPHELIA

He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders

Of his affection to me.

POLONIUS

Affection, puh! You speak like a green girl                                         110

Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.

Do you believe his “tenders,” as you call them?

OPHELIA

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

POLONIUS

Marry, I will teach you. Think yourself a baby

That you have ta’en these tenders for true pay,                               115

Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly,

Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,

Running it thus) you’ll tender me a fool.

OPHELIA

My lord, he hath importuned me with love

In honorable fashion—                                                                          120

POLONIUS

Ay, “fashion” you may call it. Go to, go to!

OPHELIA

And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,

With almost all the holy vows of heaven.

POLONIUS

Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,

When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul                                 125

Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter,

Giving more light than heat, extinct in both

Even in their promise as it is a-making,

You must not take for fire. From this time

Be something scanter of your maiden presence.                             130

Set your entreatments at a higher rate

Than a command to parle. For Lord Hamlet,

Believe so much in him that he is young,

And with a larger tether may he walk

Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia,                                          135

Do not believe his vows, for they are brokers,

Not of that dye which their investments show,

But mere implorators of unholy suits,

Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds

The better to beguile. This is for all:                                                140

I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth

Have you so slander any moment leisure

As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.

Look to ’t, I charge you. Come your ways.

OPHELIA I shall obey, my lord.                                                              145

They exit.

Scene 4

Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.

HAMLET

The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.

HORATIO

It is a nipping and an eager air.

HAMLET What hour now?

HORATIO I think it lacks of twelve.

MARCELLUS No, it is struck.                                                           5

HORATIO

Indeed, I heard it not. It then draws near the season

Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk.

A flourish of trumpets and two pieces goes off.

What does this mean, my lord?

HAMLET

The King doth wake tonight and takes his rouse,

Keeps wassail, and the swagg’ring upspring reels;                 10

And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,

The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out

The triumph of his pledge.

HORATIO Is it a custom?

HAMLET Ay, marry, is ’t,                                                                    15

But, to my mind, though I am native here

And to the manner born, it is a custom

More honored in the breach than the observance.

This heavy-headed revel east and west

Makes us traduced and taxed of other nations.                          20

They clepe us drunkards and with swinish phrase

Soil our addition. And, indeed, it takes

From our achievements, though performed at

height,

The pith and marrow of our attribute.                                          25

So oft it chances in particular men

That for some vicious mole of nature in them,

As in their birth (wherein they are not guilty,

Since nature cannot choose his origin),

By the o’ergrowth of some complexion                                         30

(Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason),

Or by some habit that too much o’erleavens

The form of plausive manners—that these men,

Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,

Being nature’s livery or fortune’s star,                                           35

His virtues else, be they as pure as grace,

As infinite as man may undergo,

Shall in the general censure take corruption

From that particular fault. The dram of evil

Doth all the noble substance of a doubt                                       40

To his own scandal.

Enter Ghost.

HORATIO Look, my lord, it comes.

HAMLET

Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!

Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned,

Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from                         45

hell,

Be thy intents wicked or charitable,

Thou com’st in such a questionable shape

That I will speak to thee. I’ll call thee “Hamlet,”

“King,” “Father,” “Royal Dane.” O, answer me!                              50

Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell

Why thy canonized bones, hearsèd in death,

Have burst their cerements; why the sepulcher,

Wherein we saw thee quietly interred,

Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws                                  55

To cast thee up again. What may this mean

That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel,

Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon,

Making night hideous, and we fools of nature

So horridly to shake our disposition                                             60

With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?

Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do?

Ghost beckons.

HORATIO

It beckons you to go away with it

As if it some impartment did desire

To you alone.                                                                                  65

MARCELLUS Look with what courteous action

It waves you to a more removèd ground.

But do not go with it.

HORATIO No, by no means.

HAMLET

It will not speak. Then I will follow it.                                           70

HORATIO

Do not, my lord.

HAMLET Why, what should be the fear?

I do not set my life at a pin’s fee.

And for my soul, what can it do to that,

Being a thing immortal as itself?                                                   75

It waves me forth again. I’ll follow it.

HORATIO

What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord?

Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff

That beetles o’er his base into the sea,

And there assume some other horrible form                               80

Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason

And draw you into madness? Think of it.

The very place puts toys of desperation,

Without more motive, into every brain

That looks so many fathoms to the sea                                        85

And hears it roar beneath.

HAMLET

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

MARCELLUS

You shall not go, my lord.They hold back Hamlet.

HAMLET Hold off your hands.

HORATIO

Be ruled. You shall not go.                                                              90

HAMLET My fate cries out

And makes each petty arture in this body

As hardy as the Nemean lion’s nerve.

Still am I called. Unhand me, gentlemen.

By heaven, I’ll make a ghost of him that lets me!                      95

I say, away!—Go on. I’ll follow thee.

Ghost and Hamlet exit.

HORATIO

He waxes desperate with imagination.

MARCELLUS

Let’s follow. ’Tis not fit thus to obey him.

HORATIO

Have after. To what issue will this come?

MARCELLUS

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.                          100

HORATIO

Heaven will direct it.

MARCELLUS Nay, let’s follow him.

They exit.

Scene 5

Enter Ghost and Hamlet.

HAMLET

Whither wilt thou lead me? Speak. I’ll go no

further.

GHOST

Mark me.

HAMLET I will.

GHOST My hour is almost come                                               5

When I to sulf’rous and tormenting flames

Must render up myself.

HAMLET Alas, poor ghost!

GHOST

Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing

To what I shall unfold.                                                             10

HAMLET Speak. I am bound to hear.

GHOST

So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.

HAMLET What?

GHOST I am thy father’s spirit,

Doomed for a certain term to walk the night                      15

And for the day confined to fast in fires

Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature

Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid

To tell the secrets of my prison house,

I could a tale unfold whose lightest word                             20

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,

Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their

spheres,

Thy knotted and combinèd locks to part,

And each particular hair to stand an end,                             25

Like quills upon the fearful porpentine.

But this eternal blazon must not be

To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O list!

If thou didst ever thy dear father love—

HAMLET O God!                                                                         30

GHOST

Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.

HAMLET Murder?

GHOST

Murder most foul, as in the best it is,

But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.

HAMLET

Haste me to know ’t, that I, with wings as swift               35

As meditation or the thoughts of love,

May sweep to my revenge.

GHOST I find thee apt;

And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed

That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,                          40

Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear.

’Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,

A serpent stung me. So the whole ear of Denmark

Is by a forgèd process of my death

Rankly abused. But know, thou noble youth,                    45

The serpent that did sting thy father’s life

Now wears his crown.

HAMLET O, my prophetic soul! My uncle!

GHOST

Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,

With witchcraft of his wits, with traitorous gifts—        50

O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power

So to seduce!—won to his shameful lust

The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen.

O Hamlet, what a falling off was there!

From me, whose love was of that dignity                        55

That it went hand in hand even with the vow

I made to her in marriage, and to decline

Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor

To those of mine.

But virtue, as it never will be moved,                                60

Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,

So, lust, though to a radiant angel linked,

Will sate itself in a celestial bed

And prey on garbage.

But soft, methinks I scent the morning air.                     65

Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,

My custom always of the afternoon,

Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole

With juice of cursèd hebona in a vial

And in the porches of my ears did pour                           70

The leprous distilment, whose effect

Holds such an enmity with blood of man

That swift as quicksilver it courses through

The natural gates and alleys of the body,

And with a sudden vigor it doth posset                            75

And curd, like eager droppings into milk,

The thin and wholesome blood. So did it mine,

And a most instant tetter barked about,

Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust

All my smooth body.                                                            80

Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother’s hand

Of life, of crown, of queen at once dispatched,

Cut off, even in the blossoms of my sin,

Unhouseled, disappointed, unaneled,

No reck’ning made, but sent to my account                    85

With all my imperfections on my head.

O horrible, O horrible, most horrible!

If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not.

Let not the royal bed of Denmark be

A couch for luxury and damnèd incest.                             90

But, howsomever thou pursues this act,

Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive

Against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven

And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge

To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once.                    95

The glowworm shows the matin to be near

And ’gins to pale his uneffectual fire.

Adieu, adieu, adieu. Remember me.He exits.

HAMLET

O all you host of heaven! O Earth! What else?

And shall I couple hell? O fie! Hold, hold, my heart,              100

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,

But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee?

Ay, thou poor ghost, whiles memory holds a seat

In this distracted globe. Remember thee?

Yea, from the table of my memory                                            105

I’ll wipe away all trivial, fond records,

All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,

That youth and observation copied there,

And thy commandment all alone shall live

Within the book and volume of my brain,                               110

Unmixed with baser matter. Yes, by heaven!

O most pernicious woman!

O villain, villain, smiling, damnèd villain!

My tables—meet it is I set it down

That one may smile and smile and be a villain.                         115

At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.

He writes.

So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word.

It is “adieu, adieu, remember me.”

I have sworn ’t.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

HORATIO My lord, my lord!                                                        120

MARCELLUS Lord Hamlet.

HORATIO Heavens secure him!

HAMLET So be it.

MARCELLUS Illo, ho, ho, my lord!

HAMLET Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come!                          125

MARCELLUS

How is ’t, my noble lord?

HORATIO What news, my lord?

HAMLET O, wonderful!

HORATIO

Good my lord, tell it.

HAMLET No, you will reveal it.                                                    130

HORATIO

Not I, my lord, by heaven.

MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord.

HAMLET

How say you, then? Would heart of man once think

it?

But you’ll be secret?                                                                  135

HORATIO/MARCELLUS Ay, by heaven, my lord.

HAMLET

There’s never a villain dwelling in all Denmark

But he’s an arrant knave.

HORATIO

There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave

To tell us this.                                                                           140

HAMLET Why, right, you are in the right.

And so, without more circumstance at all,

I hold it fit that we shake hands and part,

You, as your business and desire shall point you

(For every man hath business and desire,                         145

Such as it is), and for my own poor part,

I will go pray.

HORATIO

These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

HAMLET

I am sorry they offend you, heartily;

Yes, faith, heartily.                                                              150

HORATIO There’s no offense, my lord.

HAMLET

Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,

And much offense, too. Touching this vision here,

It is an honest ghost—that let me tell you.

For your desire to know what is between us,                 155

O’ermaster ’t as you may. And now, good friends,

As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,

Give me one poor request.

HORATIO What is ’t, my lord? We will.

HAMLET

Never make known what you have seen tonight.            160

HORATIO/MARCELLUS My lord, we will not.

HAMLET Nay, but swear ’t.

HORATIO In faith, my lord, not I.

MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord, in faith.

HAMLET

Upon my sword.                                                                   165

MARCELLUS We have sworn, my lord, already.

HAMLET Indeed, upon my sword, indeed.

GHOST cries under the stage Swear.

HAMLET

Ha, ha, boy, sayst thou so? Art thou there,

truepenny?                                                                         170

Come on, you hear this fellow in the cellarage.

Consent to swear.

HORATIO Propose the oath, my lord.

HAMLET

Never to speak of this that you have seen,

Swear by my sword.                                                            175

GHOST, beneath Swear.

HAMLET

Hic et ubique? Then we’ll shift our ground.

Come hither, gentlemen,

And lay your hands again upon my sword.

Swear by my sword                                                             180

Never to speak of this that you have heard.

GHOST, beneath Swear by his sword.

HAMLET

Well said, old mole. Canst work i’ th’ earth so fast?—

A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.

HORATIO

O day and night, but this is wondrous strange.                185

HAMLET

And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come.

Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,

How strange or odd some’er I bear myself                        190

(As I perchance hereafter shall think meet

To put an antic disposition on)

That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,

With arms encumbered thus, or this headshake,

Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,                     195

As “Well, well, we know,” or “We could an if we

would,”

Or “If we list to speak,” or “There be an if they

might,”

Or such ambiguous giving-out, to note                                  200

That you know aught of me—this do swear,

So grace and mercy at your most need help you.

GHOST, beneath Swear.

HAMLET

Rest, rest, perturbèd spirit.—So, gentlemen,

With all my love I do commend me to you,                           205

And what so poor a man as Hamlet is

May do t’ express his love and friending to you,

God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together,

And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.

The time is out of joint. O cursèd spite                                   210

That ever I was born to set it right!

Nay, come, let’s go together.

They exit.

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Early English Literature Copyright © 2019 by Allegra Villarreal is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License, except where otherwise noted.

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