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 2 of the 1625 quarto. Annotations were checked against the original. Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616. Hamlet The tragedy of Hamlet Prince of Denmarke S111101 006182587 1009066 BL C.12.h.14 British Library This nineteenth-century hand appears only in the library housekeeping annotations, the shelfmark ‘82.c.7’ which appears on the first blank leaf at the front of the volume and the titlepage. This nineteenth-century hand appears only in the library housekeeping annotations on the second blank leaf at the front of the volume, the line crossing through the shelfmark ‘82.c.7’ and the shelfmark ‘C.12.h.14’. This nineteenth-century hand appears only in the library housekeeping annotations on the second blank leaf at the front of the volume, ‘Shakspere(W.)’ and ‘K’. This eighteenth-century hand appears only in annotations on the mount which surrounds the titlepage..

In a 19th-century English brown half calf binding, the boards covered with marbled paper. Five false raised bands divide the spine into six gold tooled compartments. The cypher of King George III is tooled in gold in the first spine compartment, the title is tooled in gold on a dark red lettering piece across the second spine compartment. The edges of the leaves are sprinkled red. With plain paper endleaves. Bound by the British Museum Bindery.

Red ink stamp G.R. III BRITISH MUSEUM on titlepage.

Red ink stamp G.R. III BR.MUS on facsimile image 005a.

Red ink stamp G.R. III BRITISH MUSEUM on facsimile image 005b.

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 82 C 271 Case part 1.THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET Prince of Denmarke. Newly Imprinted and inlarged, according to the true and perfect Copy lastly Printed. BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.
Printer's mark depicting a bird and the motto “NON ALTVM PETO IS”.
LONDON, Printed by W. S. for Iohn Smethwicke, and are to be sold at his Shop in Saint Dunstans Church‐yard in Fleetftreet: Vnder the Diall.Case 1 pt 1V11
Oblique.
34 b THE TRAGEDIE OF HAMLET PRINCE OF DENMARKE. Enter BARNARDO, and FRANCISCO, two Sentinels. Bar. WHose there? Fran. Nay answer me. Stand and vnfold your selfe. Bar. Long liue the King. Fran. Barnardo. Bar. Hee. A2Fran. The Tragedie of Hamlet 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 rring. Bar. Well, good night: If you doe meet Horatio and Marcellus. The riualls of my watch, bid them make hast. Enter Horatio and Mar­ cellus. Francisco. 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. Marcellus. O, farewell honest Souldiers, who hath re­ lieu'd you? Fran. Bernardo hath my place; giue you good night.Exit Fran. 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 appear'd againe to night? Bar. I haue seene nothing. Mar. Horatio sayes 'tis but a fantasie, And wll not let beliefe take hold of him, Touching this dreaded sight twice seene of vs, Therefore I haue intreated him along, With vs to watch the minutes of this night, That if againe this apparition come, He may approue our eyes and speake to it. Hora. ush, Tush, 'twill not appeare. Bar. Sit downe a while, And let vs once againe assaile your eares, That Prince of Denmarke. That are so fortified against our story, What we haue two nights seene. Hora. Well, sit we downe, And let vs heare Barnardo speake of this. Bar. Last night of all, When yond same star thats Westward from the Pole; Had made his course t'illumin 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 againe, 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 and 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 somtimes march: by heauen I charge thee speak. Mar. It is offended. Bar. See it staukes away. Hora. Stay, speake, speake I charge thee speake. Exit Ghost. Mar. Tis gone and will not answere. Bar. How now Horatio, you tremble & look pale, Is not this something more then phantasie? What thinke you of it? Hora. Before my God I might not this beleeue, Without the sensible and true auouch Of mine owne eies. A3Mar. The Tragedie of Hamlet Mar. Is it not like the King? Hora. As thou art to thy selfe: Such was the very Armor he had on, When e the ambitious Norway combated, So frownd he once when in an angry parle He smote the sleaded Pollax on the ice. Tis strange. Mar. Thus twice before and iumpe at this dead houre, With Martiall stauke hath he gone by our watch. Hora. In what particular thought, to worke Iknow 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 he that knowes. Why this same strict and most obseruant watch So nightly toiles the subiect of the Land, And with such daily cost of brazen Cannon And forraine Mart for Implements of warre, Why such impresse of ship‐wrights, whose sore taske Does not diuide the Sunday from the weeke, What might be toward, that this sweatie haste Doth make the night ioint labour with the day, Who ist that can informe me? Hora. That can I. At least the whisper goes so, our last King, Whose Image euen but now appear'd to vs, Was as you know by 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 esteem'd him) Did slay this Fortinbrasse, who by a seald compact Well ratified by Law and Heraldrie Did forfait (with his life) all these his lands Which he 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 Prince of Denmarke. Had he bin vanquisher; as by the same comart, And carriage of the Articles designe, His fell to Hamlet; now Sir, yong Fortinbrasse Of vnimprooued mettle, hot and full, Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there Sharkt vp a lift of lawlesse resolutes For food and diet to some enterprize 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 chiefe head Of this post‐haste 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 mote it is to trouble the minds eie: In the most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Iulius fell The graues tood tennantlesse, and the sheeted dead Did squeake and gibber in the Roman streets As starres with traines of fire, and dewes of bloud Disasters in the Sun; and the moist starre, Vpon whose influence Neptunes Empire ftands, VVas sick almost to Doomesday with eclipse And euen the like precurse of fierce euents, As Harbingers preceding still the fates And Prologue to the Omen comming on Haue Heauen and Earth together demonstrated Vnto our Climatures and Countrimen. Enter Ghost. But soft, behold, lo where it comes againe Ile The Tragedie of Hamlet Ile crosse it though it blast me: stay illusion,It spreads his armes. If thou hast any sound or vse of voice, Speake to me, if there be any good thing to be done That may to thee doe ease and grace to me, Speake to me. If thou art priuie to thy Countries fate VVhich happily foreknowing may auoid 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, VVe doe it wrong being so Maiesticall To offer it the show of violence, For it is as the aire, invulnerable, And our vaine blowes, malicious mockery. Bar. It was about to speak when the cock crew. Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing, Vpon a fearfull summons; I haue heard, The Cock that is the Trumpet to the morne, Doth with his loftie and shrill sounding throat Awake the God of day, and at his warning VVhether in Sea or Fire, in Earth or Aire, Th' extrauagant and erring spirit hies 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, VVherein our Sauiours birth is celebrated This bird of dawning singeth all night long, And then they say no spirit dare stirre abroad The nights are wholsome, then no Planets strike, No Faiy takes, nor witch hath power to charme So Prince of Denmarke. So hallowed and so gracious is that time. Hor. So haue I heard and doe in part beleeue it, But looke the morne in russet antle clad Walkes ore the dew of yon high Eastward hill: Breake we our watch vp and by my aduise, Let vs impart what we haue seene to night Vnto young Hamlet, for vpon my life This spirit dumbe to vs, will speake to him: Doe you consent we shall acquaint him with it As needfull in our loues fitring our dutie. Mar. Lets doo't I pray, and I this morning know Where we shall find him most conuenient.Exeunt. Flourish. Enter Claudius, King of Denmarke, Gertrad the Queene, Counsaile: as Polonius, and his Sonne Laer­ tes, Hamlet, cum alijs. Claud. Though yet of Hamlet our deare brothers death The memory be greene, and that it vs befitted To beare our hearts in griefe & our whole kingdom, To be contracted in one brow of woe, Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature. That we 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 we 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 weighing delight and dole Taken to wife: nor haue we herein bard Your better wisdomes, which haue freely gone With this affaire along (for all our thankes) Now followes that you know young Fortinbrasse, Holding a weake supposall of our worth Or thinking by our late deare brothers death Our state to be disioyt, and out of frame Collegued with this dreame of his aduantage He hath not faild to pester vs with message BIm­ The Tragedie of Hamlet 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 businesse 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 herein, in that the leuies, The lifts, and full proportions are all made Out of his subiect, and we here dispatch You good Cornelius, and you Valtemand, For bearers of this greeting to old Norway, Giuing to you no further personall power To businesse with the King, more then the scope Of these delated Articles allow: Farewell, and let your hast commend your dutie. Cor. Vo. In that, and all things will we shew our duty. King. We doubt it nothing, hartily farewell. And now Laertes whats the newes with you? You told vs of some sue, what ist Laertes? You cannot speake of reason to the Dane And lose your voice; what would'st thou beg Laertes? That shall not be my offer, not thy asking, The head is not more natiue to the heart The hand more instrumentall to the mouth Then is the throne of Denmarke to thy father, What would'st thou haue Laertes? Lar. My dread Lord. Your leaue and fauour to returne to France, From whence though willingly I came to Denmarke. To shew my dutie in your Coronation; Yet now I must confesse, that dutie 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, I Prince of Denmarke. 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 Cousin Hamlet, and my sonne. Ham. A little more then kin, and lesse then kind. King. How is it that the clouds 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 eie 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 die, Passing through nature to eternitie. Ham. I Madam, it is common. Quee. If it be, Why seemes it so perticuler with thee. Ham. Seemes Madam, nay it is, I knownot seemes, Tis not alone my inkie cloke could smother, Nor customarie Sutes of solemne blacke, Nor windie suspiration of forst breath, No, nor the fruitfull Riuer in the eie, Nor the deiected hauiour of the visage, Together with all formes, moods, shapes of griefe That can deuoute me truly, these indeed seeme, For they are actions that a man might play, But I haue that within wich passes shew, These but the trappings and the suites of woe. King. Tis sweet and commendable in your nature Hamlet, To giue these mourning duties to your father, But you must know your father lost a father. That father lost, lost his, and the suruiuer bound In filliall obligation for some tearme To doe obsequious sorrowes, but to perseuer In obstinate condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornnesse, tis vnmanly griefe It shewes a will most incorrect to Heauen, A heart vnfortified, or minde impatient, An vnderstanding simple and vnschoold, For what we know must be, and is as common B2A The Tragedie of Hamlet As any the most vulgar thing to sence, Why should we in our peeuish opposition Take it to heart, 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 died 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 immediate to our throne, And with no lesse nobilitie of loue Then that which dearest father beares his sonne, Doe I impart toward you for your intent, In going backe to schoole to Wittenberg, It is most retrograd to our desire, And we beseech you bend you to remaine Heere in the cheare and comfort of our eie, Our chiefest Courtier, Cousin, and our sonne. Qu. Let not thy mother loose her praiers Hamlet, I pray thee stay with vs, goe not to Wittenberg. Ham. I shall in all my best obay you Madame. King. Why, tis a louing and a faire reply, Be as our selfe in Denmarke, Madame 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 Canon to the cloudes shall tell. And the Kings rowse the Heauen shal brute againe, Respeaking earthly thunder; come away.Flourish. 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, O 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 ranke & grosse in nature, Possesse it meerely that it should come thus But Prince of Denmarke. But two moneths dead, nay not so much, not two, So excellent a King, that was to this Hyperion to a Satyre, so louing to my mother, That he might not beteeme the winds of Heauen Visit her face too roughly: heauen and earth Must I remember, why she should hang on him As if increase of appetite had growne By what it fed on, and yet within a moneth, Let me not thinke on't; frailtie thy name is woman A little month. Or ere those shooes were old With which she followed my poore fathers bodie Like Niobe all teares, why shee O God! a beast that wants discourse of reason Would haue mourn'd longer, maried with my Vncle, My fathers brother, but no more like my father Then I to Hercules, within a moneth, Ere yet the salt of most vnrighteous teares Had left the flushing in her gauled eies She married Oh! most wicked speed; to pt With such dexteritie to incestious sheets, 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 Lordsh Ham. I am glad to see you we; Horatio, or I doe 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 Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus. Mar. My good Lord. Ham. I am very glad to see you (good euen sir) But what in faith make you from Wittenberg? Hora. A truant disposition good my Lord. Ham. I would not heare your enemie say so, Nor shall you doe my eare that violence To make it truster of your owne report Against your selfe, I know you are no truant, But what is your affaire in Elsonoure? Weele teach you for to drinke ere you depart. B3Horat. The Tragedie of Hamlet Hora. My Lord, I came to see your fathers funeral. Ham. I prethee doe not mock me fellow student, I thinke it was to my mothers wedding. Hora. Indeed my Lord it followed hard vpon. Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio, the funeral bak't meats 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 minds eie 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 these Gentlemen, Marcellus, and Barnardo, on th watch, In the dead vast and middle of the night Beene thus incountred, a figure like your father Armed at point, exactly Cap apea Appeares before them, and with solemne march, Goes slow and stately by them; thrice he walkt By their opprest and feare surprized eies, Within this trunchions length, whil'st they distill'd Almost to gelly, with the act of feare Stand dumbe and speake not to him; this to me, In dreadfull secrecie impart they did, An 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 apparition comes: I knew your father, These Prince of Denmarke. These hands are not more like. Ham. But where was this? Mar. My Lord vpon the platforme where we watcht, Ham. Did you not speake to it? Hora. My Lord, I did, But answer m ade it none, yet once me thought It lifted vp its head and did addresse It selfe to motion, like as it would speake: But euen then the morning Cock crew loud, And at the sound it shrunke in hast a way And vanisht from our sight. Ham. Tis verie strange. Hora. As I doe liue my honor'd Lord tis true And we did thinke it writ downe in our dutie To let you know of it. Ham. Indeed sirs but this troubles me, Hold you the watch to night? All. We doe my Lord. Ham. Arm'd say you? All. Am'd my Lord. Ham. From top to toe? All. My Lord from head to foot. Ham. Then saw you not his face? Hora. O yes my Lord, he wore his beauer vp. Ham. What look't he frowningly? Hora. A countenance more in sorrow then in anger. Ham. Pale or red? Hora. Nay verie pale. Ham. And fixt his eies vpon you? Hora. Most constantly. Ham. I would I had beene there. Hora. It would haue much amaz'd you. Ham. Verie like: staid it long? Hora. While one with moderate haste might tell a hundreth, Both. Longer, longer. Hora. Not when I saw't. Ham. His beard was grisseld, no. Hora. It was as I haue seene it in his life A sable siluer'd. Ham. The Tragedie of Hamlet Ham. I will watch to night Perchance twill walke againe. Hora. I warn't it will. Ham. If it assume my noble fathers person, Ilespeake to it though hell it selfe should gape And bid me hold my peace; I pray you all If you haue hitherto conceald this sight Let it be tenable in your silence still, And whatsoeuer else shall hap to night, Giue it an vnderstanding but no tongue, I will requite your loues, so fare you well: Vpon the platforme twixt eleuen and twelue Ile visit you. All Our dutie to your honour.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 deeds will rise Though all the earth ore‐whelme them to mens eies.Exit. Enter Laertes and Ophelia his Sister. Laer. My necessaries are imbarkt, farewell, And sister as the winds giue benefit And conuay, in assistant, doe 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 bloud, A violet in the youth of primie nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, The perfume and suppliance of a minute No more. Ophe. No more but so. Laer. Thinke it no more. For nature cressant does nor grow alone, In thewes and bulkes, but as this Temple waxes The inward seruice of the mind and soule Growes wide withall, perhaps he loues you now, And now no soile nor cautell doth besmerch The vertue of his will but you must feare, His Prince of Denmarke. His greatnesse waid, his will is not his owne. He may not as vnualued persons doe, Craue for himselfe, for on his choice depends The safetie and health of this whole state, And therefore must his choise be circumscrib'd, Vnto the voice and yeelding of that bodie, 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 particular act and place May giue his saying deed, which is no furthr, Then the maine voice of Denmarke goes withall. Then weigh what losse your honour may sustaine, If with too credent eare you list his songs Or loose your heart, or your chast treasure open, To his vnmastred importunitie. 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 beautie 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 warie then, best safetie lies in feare, Youth to it selfe rebels, though none else neere. 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. Shew me the steepe and thornie way to heauen Whiles a puft, and reckles libertine, Himselfe the primrose path of daliance treads. And reakes not his owne Reed.Enter Polonius. Laer. O feare me not, I ftay too long, but heere my father comes A double blessing, is a double grace, Occasion smiles vpon a second leaue. Pol. Yet here Laertes? aboord, aboord for shame, CThe The Tragedie of Hamlet 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 memorie Looke thou character, giue thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any vnpropotion'd thought his act, Be thou familiar, but by no meanes vulgar, Those friends thou haft and their adoption tried, Grapple them vnto thy soule with hoopes of steele, But doe not dull thy palme with entertainment Of each new hatcht vnfledgd courage; beware Of entrance to a quarrell, bu being in, Bear't that th' opposer may beware of thee. Giue euerie man thy eare, but few thy voice, Take each mans censure, but reserue thy iudgement, Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not exprest in fancie; rich not gaudie, For the apparell oft proclaimes the man: And they in Frauce of the best ranke and sta, Are of a most select and generous, chiefe in that: Neither a borrower nor a lender boy, For loue oft looses both it selfe and friend, And borrowing dulleth the edge of husbandr: This aboue all, to thine owne selfe be true And it must follow as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man: Farewell my blessing season this in thee. Laer. Most humbly doe I take my leaue my Lord. Pol. The time inuests you, go, your seruants tend, Laer. Farewell Ophelia, and remember well What I haue said to you. Ophe. Tis in my memorie lockt And you your selfe shall keepe the key of it. Laer. Farewell.Exit, Laertes. Pol. What ist Ophelia he hath said to you? Ophe. So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. Pol. Marrie well bethought Tis told me he hath very oft of late Giuen priuate time to you, and you your selfe Haue of your audience beene most free and bounteous, If Prince of Denmarke. 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 honour, What is betweene you giue me vp the truth. Ophe. He hath my Lord of late made many tenders Of his affection to me. Pol. Affection, puh, you speake like a greene girle, Vnsifted in such perillous circumstance, Doe you beleeue his tenders, as you call them? Ophe. I doe not know my Lord what I should thinke. Pol. Marrie 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 cracke the wind 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, goe to, goe to. Ophe. And hath giuen countenance to his speech My Lord, with almost all the holy vowes of heauen. Pol. I, springes to catch Wood‐cocks, I do know When the bloud 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, Beleeue 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 beleeue his vowes, for they are Brokers Not of that die which their inuestments shew 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 forth C2Haue The Tragedie of Hamlet Haue you so slander any moments leisure As to giue words or talke with the Lord Hamlet, Looke too't I charge you, come your waies. Ophe. I shall obey my Lord.Exeunt. Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus. Ham. The aire bites shroudly, it is very cold. Hora. It is nipping, and an eager aire. Ham. What houre now? Hora. I thinke it lackes of twelue. Mar. No, it is strooke Hora. Indeed; I heard it not, it then drawes neere the season. Wherein the spirit held his wont to walkeA flourish of Trum­ pets, and two Peeces goes off. What does this meane my Lord? Ham. The King doth walke to night and takes his rowse, Keeps wassell and the swaggering vp‐spring reeles: And as he draines his drafts of Rhenish downe, The Kettle Drumme and Trumpet, thus bray out The triumph of his pledge. Hora. Is it a custome? Ham. I marrie 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 heauie‐headed reuell East and West Makes vs traduc'd and taxed of other Nations, They clip vs Drunkards and with swinish phrase Soile 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 particular men, That for some vicious mole of nature in them As in their birth wherein they are not guiltie, (Since 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 habit that too much ore‐leauens The forme of plausiue manners, that these men Carrying I say the stampe of one defect Being Prince of Denmarke. Being Natures liuery, or Fortunes starre, His Vertues els be they as pure as grace. As infinite 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 aires from heauen, or blasts from hel, 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, O answere me, Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell Why thy canoniz'd bones hearsed in death Haue burst their cerements? why the Sepulchre, Wherein we 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 coarse, againe in compleat steele Reuisites thus the glimpses of the Moone, Making night hideous, and we fooles of Nature So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches of our soules, Say why is this, wherefore, what should we 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 courteous 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 be the feare, I doe not set my life at a pinnes fee, C3And The Tragedie of Hamlet And for my soule, what can it doe to that Being a thing immortall as it selfe; It waues me forth againe, Ile follow i. Hora. What if it tempt you towards the floud 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 Soueraigntie of reason, And draw you into madnesse, thinke of it, The verie place puts toyes of desperation Without more motiue, into euery braine That lookes so many fadomes 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 off your hands. Hora. Be rul'd, you shall not goe. Ham. My fate cries out And makes each pettie attire in this bodie As hardie as the Nemean Lions 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. Hora. 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 go 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. Alas poore Ghost. Ghost. Prince of Denmarke. Ghost. Pittie mee not but lend my serious hearing to what I shall vnfold. Ham. Speake I am bound to heare. Ghost. So art thou to reuenge, when thou shalt heare. Ham. What? Ghost. I am thy fathers spirit, Doom'd for a certaine tearme to walke the night, And for the day confin'd 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 vnfold whose lightest word Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy young bloud, Make thy two eies like starres 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 bloud, list, list, O list, If thou did'st euer thy deare father loue. Ham. O God. Ghost. Reuenge his soule, and most vnnatural murther. Ham. Murther. Ghost. Murther most foule, as in the beft it is, But this most foule, strange and vnnaturall. Ham. Haste 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 weed That roots it selfe in ease on Lethe wharffe, Would'st thou not stirre 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 Rankely 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. Ghost. The Tragedie of Hamlet Ghost. I that incetuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wits, with trayterous gifts, O wicked wit, and gifts that haue the power So to seduce; wonne to his shamefull lust The will of my most seeming vertuous Queene; O Hamlet, what falling off was there From me whose loue was of that dignitie That it went hand in hand, euen with the vow I made to her in marriage, and to decline Vpon a wretch whose naturall gifts were poore, To those of mine; but vertue as it neuer 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 prey on garbage. But soft, me thinkes I scent the morning aire, Briefe let me be; sleeping within my Orchard, My custome alwaies of the afternoone, Vpon my secure houre, thy Vncle stole With iuice of cursed Hebona in a Viall, And in the porches of my eares did poure, The leprous distilment, whose effect Holds such an enmitie with bloud of man, That swift as Quick‐siluer it courses through The naturall gates and allies of the bodie, And with a sodaine vigour it doth possesse And curde like eager droppings into milke, The thinne and wholsome bloud; so did it mine, And a most instant Tetter barkt about Most Lazerlike with vile and lothsome crust All my smooth bodie. 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, Let Prince of Denmarke. Let not the Royall bed of Denmarke be A Couch for Luxurie and damned Incest. But howsomeuer thou pursues this act, Taint not thy mind, nor ler thy soule contriue Against thy mother ought, leaue her to heauen, And to those thornes that in her bosome lodge To prick 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 couple hell, O fie! hold my heart, And you my sinewes; grow not instant old, But beare me swiftly vp; remember thee, I thou poore Ghost whiles memorie holds a seat In this distracted Globe, remember thee, Yea, from the table of my memorie Ile wipe away all triuiall fond records, All saw 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 pernicious 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 adiew, adiew, remember me. I haue sworne'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. DMar. The Tragedie of Hamlet Mar. How ist 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 heart of man once thinke it, But you'le be ret. Both. I by hauen. Ham. There's neuer a villaine, Dwelling in all Denmake But he'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 wild and whurling words my Lord. Ham. I am sorrie they offend you heartily, Yes faith heartily. 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‐master't as you may, and now good friends, As you are friends, Schollers, and Souldiers, Giue me one poore request. Hora. What ift my Lord, we will. Ham. Neuer make knowne what you haue seene to night. Both. My Lord we will not. Ham. Nay but sweare't. Hora. In faith my Lord not I. Mar. Nor I my Lord in faith. Ham. Vpon my Sword. Prince of Denmarke. Mar. We haue sworne my Lord alreadie. Ham. Indeed vpon my Sword, indeed. Ghost cries 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. Hi, & vbi, 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, canft worke it'h earth so 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 things 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 hereafter shall thinke meet, To put an Antike disposition on That you at such times seeing me, neuer shall With armes incombred thus, or this head shake, Or by pronouncing of some doubtfull phrase, As, wel, well we know, or we could and if we would, Or if we list to speake, or there be and if they might, Or such ambiguous giuing out, to note) That you know ought of me, this do sweare, So grace and mercy at your most need helpe you. Ghost. Sweare. Ham. Rest, rest perturbed spirit: so Gentlemen, With all my loue I doe commend me to you, D2And The Tragedie of Hamlet And what so poore a man as Hamlet is, May doe t'expresse his loue and friending to you God willing shall not lacke: let vs goe in together, And still your fingers on your 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 shal do maruellous wisely good Reynaldo. Before you visit him, to make inquire, Of his behauiour. Rey. My Lord, I did intend it. Pol. Marrie well said, very well said; looke you sir, Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris. And how, & who, what means, and where they keep, What company, at what expence, and finding, By this encompasment and drift of question That they do know my sonne, come you more neerer Then your particular demands will tuch it, Take you as 'twere 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, he's verie wilde, Addicted so and so, and there put on him What forgeries you please, marrie none so ranke As may dishonour him, take heed of that, But sir, such wanton, wild, and vsuall slips, As are companions noted and most knowne To youth and 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. Faith as you may season it in the charge. Yo Prince of Denmarke. You must not put another scand all on him, That he is open to incontinencie, That's not my meaning, but breath his fauls so quently That they may seeme the taints of libertie, The flash and out‐breake of a fierie mind, A sauagenesse in vnreclaimed bloud, Of generall afsault. Rey. But my good Lord. Pol. Wherefore should you doe this? Rey. I my Lord, I would know that. Pol. Marrie sir, heere'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 soilde with working, Marke you, your partie in conuerse, him you would sound Hauing euer seene in the prenominate crimes The youth you breath of guiltie, be assur'd He closes with you in this consequence, Good sir (or so) or friend, or gentleman, According to the phrase, or the addition Of man and Countrie. Rey. Verie 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 some thing, Where did I leaue? Rey. At closes in the consequence. Pol. At closes in the consequence, I marrie, 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, Videlicet, a Brothell or so forth, 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 assayes of bias, By indirects find directions out, So by my former lecture and aduise DShall The Tragedie of Hamlet 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 Musick. Rey. Well my Lord.Exit Rey. Enter Ophelia. Polo. Farwel. How now Ophelia, whats the matter? Ophe. O my Lord, my Lord, I haue bin 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. Pol. Mad for thy loue? Ophe. My Lord I doe not know, But truly I doe feare it. Polo. What said he? Ophe. He took 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 fals to such perusall of my face As a would draw it; long staid he so, At last, a little shaking of mine arme, And thrice his head thus wauing vp and downe, He 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 goe, And with his head ouer his shoulders turn'd He seem'd to find his way without his eyes, For out of doores he went without their helpes, And to the last bended their light on me. Polo. Prince of Denmarke. Polo. Come, goe with me, I will go seeke the King, This is the very extasie of loue, Whose violent propertie forgoes it selfe, And leads the will to desperate vndertakings As oft as any passions vndr heauen That does afflict our natures: I am sorrie, What, haue you giuen him any hard words of late? Ophe. No my good Lord, but as you did command I did repell his Letters: and denied His accesse to me. Pol. That hath made him mad, I am sorrie, that with better heed and iudgement I had not coted him, I fear'd he did but trifle And meant to wracke thee, but beshrow my Iealousie: 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 lacke discretion; come, goe we to the King, This must be knowne, which being 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 hastie 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 intreat you both, That being of so young dayes brought vp with him, And sith so neighboured to his youth and hauour, That you vouchsafe your rest heere in our Court Some little time, so by your companies. To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather So The Tragedie of Hamlet So much as from occasion you may gleane, Whether ought to vs vnknowne afflicts him thus, That opend lies within our remedie. Quee. Good gentlemen, he hath much talkt of you, And sure I am, two men there are not liuing, To whom he more adheres, if it will please you To shew vs so much 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 command Then to intreatie. Guyl. But we both obey, And here giue vp our selues in the full bent, To lay our seruice freely at your feet. King. Thanks Rosencraus, and gentle Guyldensterne, Quee. Thanks Guyldensterne, and gentle Roscencraus. And beseech you instantly to visit 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 Guyl. Enter Polonius. Pol. Th'embassadors from Norway my good Lord, Are ioyfully return'd. King. Thou still hast bin the father of good newes. Pol. Haue I my Lord? I assure my good Liege, I hold my dutie 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 vs'd to doe, that I haue found The very cause of Hamlets lunacie. King. O speake of that, that doe I long to heare. Pol. Prince of Denmarke. Polo. Giue first admittance to the Embassdors, My newes shall be the fruit to that great feast. King. Thy selfe doe grace to them, and bring them in. He tels me my decree: Gertrud he hath found The head and source of all your sonnes diftemper. Quee. I doubt it is no other but the maine, His fathers death, and our hastie marriage. Enter Embassadors. King. Well, we shall sift him, welcome my good friend, Say Voltemand, what from our brother Norway? Volte. Most faire returne of greetings and desires; Vpon our first, he sent out to suppresse His Nephewes leuies, which to him appear'd To be a preparation gainst the Pollacke, But better lookt into, he truly found It was against your Highnesse, whereat grieu'd That so his sicknesse, age, and impotence Was falsly borne in hand, sends out arrests On Fortenbrasse, which he in briefe obeyes, Receiues rebuke from Norway, and in fine, Makes vow before his Vncle neuer more To giue th'assay of Armes against your Maiestie: Whereon old Norway ouercome with ioy, Giues him threescore thousand crownes in anual 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 enterprize On such regards of safetie 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 businesse: Meane time, we thank you for your wel took labour, Go to your rest, at night weele feast together, Most welcome home.Exeunt Embassadors. Pol. This businesse is well ended, EMy The Tragedie of Hamlet My Liege and Madam, to expostulate What maiestie should be, what dutie is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time, Therefore breuitie is the soule of wit, And tediousnesse the limmes and outward florishes: I will be briefe your noble sonne is mad: Mad call I it, for to define true madnesse, What ist but to be nothing else but mad? But let that goe. Quee. More matter with lesse art. Pol. Madam, I sweare Ivse no art at all, That he's mad tis true, tis true, tis pittie, And pittie 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 we 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 dutie and obedience, marke, Hath giuen me this, now gather and surmise,

To the Celestiall and my soules Idoll the most beautified Ophelia, that's an ill phrase, a vile phrase, beauti­ fied 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 Madam stay awile, I will be faithfull, Doubt thou the stars are fiee,Letter. Doubt that the Sunne doth moue, 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 reckon my groanes, but that I loue thee best, oh most beft be­ leeue it! adiew. Thine euermore most deare Ladie, whilest this machine is to him. (Hamlet.

 Pol. This in obedience hath my daughter shown me And mor about hath his solicitings As Prince of Denmarke. As they fell out by time, by means, 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 honourable. 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 Maiestie your Queene heere thinke, If I had plaid the Deske, or Table‐booke, Or giuen my heart a working mute and dumbe, Or lookt vpon this loue with idle sight, What might you thinke? no, I went round to worke, And my young Mistresse this I did bespeake, Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy starre, This must not be: 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 fruits of my aduise, And he repel'd, a short tale to make, Fell into a sadnesse, then into a fast, Thence to a watch, thence into a weaknesse, Thence to lightnesse, and by this declension, Into the madnesse wherein now he raues, And all we mourne for. King. Doe you thinke this? Quee. It may be 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 me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the Centre. King. How may we trie it further? Pol. You know sometimes he walkes foure houres together Heere in the Lobbie. E2Que. The Tragedie of Hamlet Quee. So he does indeed. 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 be not from his reason falne thereon Let me be no assistant for a State But keepe a Farme and Carters. King. We will trie it. Enter Hamlet. Quee. But looke where sadly the poore wretch come reading. Pol. Away, I do beseech you both away.Exit King and Queene. Ile boord 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 ten thousand, Pol. That's very true my Lord. Ham. For if the Sun 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 Sun, conception is a blessing, But as your daughter may conceiue, friend looke to't. Pol.

How say you by that, stll harping on my daughter, yet he knew me not at first, a said I was a Fishmonger, a is farre gone, and truly in my youth, I suffered much extremity for loue, very neere this. Ile speake to him againe. What doe you reade 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 grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eies purging thick Amber, and Plum‐tree Gum, and that they haue a plenti­ Prince of Denmarke. plentifull lacke of wit, together with most weake hams, all which sir though I most powerfully and potently beleeue, yet I hold it not honestie to haue it thus set down, 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 out of the aire my Lord? Ham. Into my graue. Polo.

Indeed that's out of the aire; how pregnant sometimes his replies are, a happines that often madnes hits on, which reason and sanctitie could not so prosperously be deliuered of. I wil 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, ecept my lfe, 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 excellent good friends, how dost thou Guildensterne? 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 visit 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 thanks 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.

 Guyl. VVhat should we say my Lord? E3Ham. The Tragedie of Hamlet Ham.

Any thing but to'th purpose; you were sent for, and there is a kind of confession in your lookes, which your modesties 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 fellowship, by the consonancie of our youth, by the oblgation of our euer preserued loue; and by what more deare a better proposer can change you withal, be euen and direct with mee whether you were sent for or no.

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

I will tell you why so shall, my anticipation preuent your discouerie & your secrecie to the King and Queen 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, seems to me a sterill promontorie, this most excellent Canopie the aire, 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 beautie of the world; the parragon of Annimales, & yet to me, what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not mee nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seeme to say so.

 Ros. My Lord there was no such stuffe in my thoughts. Ham. Why did yee laugh hen, when I said man delights not me. Ros.

To thinke my Lord if you delight not in man, what Lenton entertainment the plaiers shall receiue from you, wee coted them on the way, and hether are the coming to offer you seruice.

 Ham.

He that plaies the King shall be welcome, his Maieste shall haue tribute on mee, the aduenterous Knight shall vse his foyle and target, the louer shall not sing gratis, the humorous man shall end his part in pece and the Ladie shall say her mind freely: or the blanke verse shall hault for't. What players are they?

 Ros.

Euen those you were wont to take such delight in, the Tra­ gedians of the Citie.

 Ham. Prince of Denmarke. Ham. How chances it the trauaile? their residence both in re­ putation and profit was better both waies. 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 Citie? 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 twentie, fortie, fiftie, a hundred duckets a peece, for his Pic­ ture in little: s'bloud there is something in this more then natu­ rall, if Philosophy could fin d it out.A flourish.

 Guyl. There are plaiers. Ham.

Gentlemen you are welcome to Elsonoure, your hands, come then th'apportenance of welcome is fashion and ceremo­ nie; let mee comply wih you in this garb: let my extent to the Plaiers, which I tell you must showe fairely outwards, fhould more appeare like entertainment 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 Hawke, from a Hand‐saw. Enter Polonius. Pol. Well be with you Gentlemen. Ham. Hark you Guyldensterne, and you to, are each eare a hearer, that great babie 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 prophecie that he comes to tell me of the Plaiers; 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. Vpon my honour. Ham. Then came each Actor on his Asse. Pol.

The best actors in the world, either for Tragedie, Comedie, Historie, Pastorall, Pastoral‐Comicall, Historical‐Pastorall, seeme indeuidable, The Tragedie of Hamlet indeuidable, or Poem vnimited. Seneca cannot be too heauie, nor Plautus too light for the law of writ, and the libertie: these are the onely men.

 Ham. O Ieptha Iudge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou? Pol. What a treasure had he my Lord? Ham. Why one faire daughter and no more, the which he 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 abridgement 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 mee in Den­ marke? what my young Ladie and Mistris, my Ladie your Ladi­ ship is neerer to Heauen, then when I saw you last by the altitude of a chopine, pray God your voice like a peece of vncurrant gold, be not crackt within the ring: maisters you are all welcome, weele ento't like friendly Faukners, flie at any thing we see, weele haue a speech strait, come giue vs a taste of your qualitie, come a passionae 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 and others, whose iudgements 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 said there were no sallets in the lines, to make the matter auory, nor no matter in the phrase that might indite the author of affection, but cald it an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much, more handsome then fine: one speech in't I chiefly loued, t'was Æneas talke to Dido, and 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 Beast, Prince of Denmarke. Beast, tis not it begins with Pyrrhus. The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable armes,

Blacke as his purpose did the night resemble, When he lay couched in th'ominous horse, Hath now this dread and black complection smeard, With Heraldy more dismall head to foot, Now is he totall Gules, horridly trickt With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sonnes, Bak'd and embasted with the parching streets Than lend a tirranous and a damned light To their Lords murther, rosted in wrath and fire, And thus ore‐cised with coagulate gore, VVith eyes like Carbunckles, the hellish Pyrrhus Old gransire 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 falls, 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 tyrant Pyrrhus stood Like a newtrall to his will and matter, Did nothing: But as we often see against some storme, A silence in the heauens, the racke stand still, The bould winds speechlesse, and the orbe below As hush as death, anon 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, VVith lesse remorse then Pirrhus bleeding sword Now falls on Priam. FOut Out, out, thou strumper Fortune! all you gods, In general sy nod take away her power, Breake all the spokes, and fellowes 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 barefoot 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 dignitie, the lesse they deserue the more merrit is in your bounty. Take them in.

 Pol. Come sirs. Ha. Follow him friends, weele here a play to morrow; dost thou here Prince of Denmarke. 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 am I! Is it not monstrous that this Player here 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 voice, and his whole function suting VVith formes to his conceit; and all for nothing, For Hecuba. VVhat's Hecuba to him, or he to her, That he should wepe 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, VVho calls me villain, breaks my pate a crosse, Plucks off my beard, and blowes it in my face, Twekes me by the nose, giues me the ly i'th throat 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 F2To The Tragedie of Hamlet To make oppression bitter, or ere this I should haue fatted all the region kytes VVith this slaues offall, bloody, baudy villaine, Remorslesse, treacherous, letcherous, kindlesse villain. VVhy what an Asse am I? this is most braue, That I the sonne of a deere father murthered, Promped to my reuenge by heauen and hell, Must like a whore vnpack my heart with words, And fal a cusing like a very drabbe; stallion, fie vppont, foh About my braines, hum, I haue heard That guiltie creatures sitting at a play, Haue by the very cunning of the Scene, Beene strooke so to the soule, that presently They haue proclaimd their malfactions: 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 Bfore mine Vncle, Ile obserue his lookes, Ile tent him to the quick, if a do blench I know my course. The spirit that I haue seene May be a diuell, and the diuell hath power T'ssume a pleasing shape; yea and perhaps, Out of my weakenesse and my melancholly As he is very potet with such spirits, Abuses me to damne me; Ile haue grounds More relaiue then this, the play's the thing VVherein 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 he puts on this confusion, Grating so harshly all his daies of quiet VVith 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 we find him forward to be sounded, But with a crafty madnesse keepes aloof VVhen we would bring him on to some confession Of Prince of Denmarke. 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 asay him to any pastime? Ros. Madam, it fo 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 alreadie 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 further 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, VVee'le so bestow our selues, that seeing vnseene, VVe may of their encounter frankly iudge, And gather by him as he is behau'd, Ift be th'affliction of his loue or no That thus he suffers for. Quee. I shall obey you. And for my part Ophelia I doe wish That your good beauties be the happy cause Of Hamlets wildnsse, so shall I hope your vertues Will bring hm to his wonted way againe, To both your honours. Ophe. Madam I wish it may. Pol. Ophelia walk you here: gracious so please you, FWe The Tragedie of Hamlet We will bestow our selues; read on this Booke, That show of such an exercise may colour Your lowlinesse; we ae oft too blame in this, Tis too much prou'd, that with deuotions visage And pious action, we doe sugar ore The Deuill himselfe. King. O tis too true, How smart a lash tht speech doth giue my conscience? The harlots cheeke beautied with plastring art, Is not more vgly to the thing that helps it, Then is my deed to my most painted word: O heauy burthen: Enter Hamlet. Pol. I heare him comming, withdraw my Lord. Ham. To be, or not to be, that is the question, Whether tis nobler in the mind 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 consummation Deuoutly to be wisht to die to sleep, To sleep, perchance to dreame, I there's the rub, For in that sleep 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 proud mans contumely, The pangs of office and the Lawes delay, The insolence of office, and the spurnes That patient merit of th' vnworthy takes, When himselfe might his quietus 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 Countrie, from whose borne No Prince of Denmarke. No traueller returnes, puzzels the will, And makes vs rather beare those ils we haue, Then ie to others that we 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 Enterprizes of great pitch and moment, VVith 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 sins 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 proue vnkind, There my Lord. Ham. Ha, ha, are you honest. Ophe. My Lord. Ham. Are you faire? Ophe. VVhat meanes your Lordship? Ham. That if you be honest and faire, you should admit no discourse to your beautie. Ophe. Could beautie my Lord haue better commerce Then with honesty? Ham.

I truly, for the power of beautie will sooner transforme honestie from what it is to a Baud, then the force of honesty can translate beautie in his likenesse, this was sometime a Paradoxe, but now the time giues it proofe, I did loue you once.

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

Get thee a Nunry: why would'st thou be a breeder of sinners? I am my self indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better my Mother had not borne mee: I am very proud, reuengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck, then I haue thoghts to put them in, imagination to giue thēthem shape, or time to act them in: what should such fellowes as I do crauling betweene Earth and Heauen? we are arrant Knaues, be­ lieue none of vs. Go thy waies to a Nunry, VVher'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 mary, Ile giue thee this plague for thy dow­ ry, be thou as chast as Ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny, get thee to a Nunry, farwell. Or if thou wilt needs mar­ ry, marrie a foole, for wisemen know well enough what monsters you make of them: to a Nunry go, and quickly to, farwell.

 Ophe. Heauenly powers restore him. Ham.

I haue heard of your paintings well enough, God hath giuen you one face, and you make your selues another, you gig & amble, and you list you nickname Gods creatures, and make your wantonnesse ignorance; go to, Ile no more on't, it hath made me mad, I say we will haue no mo marriage, those that are married already, all but one shall liue, the rest shall keepe as they are: to a Nunrie goe.Exit.

 Ophe. O what a noble mind is here othrowne! The Courtiers, Soldiers, Scholers, eie, 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 hony of his Musick vowes; Now see what noble and most souereigne reason Like sweet bels iangled out of time, and harsh, That vnmarcht forme, and stature of blowne youth Blasted with extasie. O wo is me T' haue seene what I haue seene, see what I see.Exit. Eter Prince of Denmarke. Enter King and Polonius King. Loue: his affections do 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 discolse Will be some danger; which for to preuent, I haue in quick determination Thus set downe: he shall with speed to England, For the demand of our neglected Tribute, Haply the Seas, and Countries different, With variable obiects shall expell This something setled matter in his heart, Whereon his braines still beating Puts him thus from fashion of himselfe. What thinke you on't? Pol. It shall doe well. But yet do I belieue the origen & comencement of it Sprung from neglected loue: how now Ophelia? You need 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 Queen‐mother all alone intreat 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 conine him where Your wisdome best shall thinke. King. It shall be so, Madnes in great ones must not vnmatcht go.Exeunt. Enter Hamlet, and three of the Players. Ham.

Speake the speech I pray you as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue, but if you mouth it as many of our Players do, I had as liue the Town‐crier spoke my lines, nor doe not saw the aire too much with your hand thus, but vse al gently, for in the very torrent tempest, & as I may say, whirlwind of your passion you must acquire and beget a tempernce, that may giue it smoothnesse, O it offends me to to the soule, to heare a robusti­ Gous The Tragedie of Hamlet ous Perwig‐pated fellow tere a passion to totters, to verie rags, to spleet the eares of the ground‐lings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but in explicable dumbe shewes, and noise: I wuld hue such a felow whipt for ore‐doing Termagant, it out Herods, Herod, pray you auoid it.

 Play. I warrant your honour. Ham.

Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor, sute the action to the word, the word to the action, with this speiall obseruance, that you ore‐step not the modestie of Nature: For any thing so ore‐done, is from the purpose of playing, whose end both at first, and now, was and is, to hold as twere the Mirrour vp to Nature, to shew vertue her feature; scorn her own Image, and the very age and bodie of the time his forme and pressure: Now this ouer‐done, or come tardie off though it makes the vnskilfull laugh, cannot but make th iudicious grieue, the censure of which one muft in your allowance ore‐weigh a whole Theater of others. O there be Players that I haue seen play, and heard others praisd, and that highly, not to speake it profane­ ly, that neither hauing th' accent of Christians, nor the gate of Christian, Pagan, nor man, haue so strutted & bellowed, that I haue thought some of Natures Iournymen had made mn, and not made them well, they imitated humanitie so abominably.

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

O reforme it altogether, and let those that play your Clownes speake no more then is set downe for them, for there be of them that will themselues laugh, to set on some quantitie of barraine Spectators to laugh to, though in the meane time, some necessarie question of the play be then to be considered: that's vil­ lanous, and shewes a most pittifull ambition in the Foole that v­ ses it: go make you readie. How now my Lord, will the King heare this piece of worke?

 Enter Polonius, Guyldensterne, and Rosencraus. Pol. And the Queene to, and that presently, Ham. Bid the Players make haste. Will you two help to haten (them. Ros. I my Lord.Exeunt those two. Ham. What how, Horatio.Enter Horatio. Hora. Heere sweet Lord, at your seruice. Ham. Horatio, thou art een as iust a man As ere my conuersation copt withall. Hora. Prince of Denmarke. Hora. O my deare Lord. Ham. Nay, do not thinke I flatter. For what aduancement may I hope from thee That no reuenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and cloath 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 fawning, dost thou heare, Since my deare soule was Mistris of her choce, And could of men distinguish her election Shath seald thee for her selfe, for thou hast bin As one in suffering all that suffers nothing, A man that Fortunes buffets and rewards Hast tane with equall thanks; and bleft are those Whose bloud and iudgement are so well comedled, That they are not a pipe for Forunes finger To sound what stop she please: giue me that man That is not passions slaue, and I will weare him In my hearts core, I in my heart of heart As I do thee. Something too much of this, There is a play to night 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 foot, Euen with the very comment of thy soule Obserue my Vncle, if his occulted guil Doe not it selfe vnkennill in one speech, It is a damned Ghost that we haue seene, And my imaginations are as foule As Vulcans stithy; giue him heedfull note For I mine eies will riuet to his face, And after we 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, G2Get The Tragedie of Hamlet Get you a place. King. How fares our Cousin Hamlet? Ham. Excellent Ifaith. Of the Camelions dish, I eat the aire, Promis‐cram'd, you cannot feed Capons so. King. I haue nothing with this answer Hamlet, These words are not mine. Ham. No nor mine now my Lord. You playd once i'th the Vniuersitie 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 capital a calfe there. Be the Players readie? Ros. I my Lord, they stay vpon your patience. Ger. Come hither my deare Hamlet, sit by me. Ham. No good mother here's mettle more attractiue. Pol. O, oh, doe you marke that. Ham. Ladie shall lie in your lap? Ophe. No my Lord. Ham. Doe you thinke I meant Countrie matters? Ophe. I thinke nothing my Lord. Ham. That's a faire thought to lie between maids legs. Ophe. Wat is my Lord? Ham. Nothing. Ophe. You are merrie my Lord. Ham. Who I? Ophe. I my Lord. Ham.

O God! your onely Iigge‐maker, what should a man do but be merrie, for looke you how cherefully my mother lookes, and my father died within's two houres.

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

So long, nay then let the Deuill weare black, for Ile haue a Sute of Sables; O heauens, die two moneths ago, and not for­ gotten yet, then there's hope a great mans memorie may out‐liue his life halfe a yeare, but ber Ladie a must build Churches then, or else shall a suffer not thinking on, with the Hobby‐horse, whose Epitaph is, for O, for O, the Hobby‐horse i forgot.

 Enter Prince of Denmarke. 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 vpon her necke, he lies him downe vpon a banke of flowers, shee seeing him asleepe, leaues him: anon comes in another man, take.s off his Crown, 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, seem to condole with her, the dead body is carried away, the poisoner woes the Queen with gifts, she seems harsh awhile, but in the end acceps loue. Oph. VVhat meanes this my Lord? Ham. Marry it is munching Mallico, it meanes mischeife. 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 vs what this show meant? Ha. 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 Tregedy, Here stooping to your clemencie, We begge your hearing patiently. Ham. Is this a Prologue or the posie of a Ring? Ophe. Tis briefe my Lord. Ham. As womans loue. Enter King and Queene. King. Full thirty times hath Phœbus Cart gone round Neptunes salt wash, and Tellus orb'd the ground, And thirty 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 Sun and Moon Make vs againe count oe ere loue be done, But woe is me you are so sicke of late, So farre from cheere, and from your former state, That I diftrust you, yet though I distrust, Discomfort you my Lord it nothing must. G3For The Tragedie of Hamlet 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 proofe hath made you know, And as my loue is ciz'st, my feare is so, Where loue is great, the litlest doubts are feare, Where little fears grow great, great loue grows there King. Faith I must leaue thee loue, and shortly to, My operant powers their functions leaue to doe, And thou shalt liue in this faire world behind, Honord, belou'd, and haply one as kind, For husband shalt thou. Quee. O confound the reft. Such loue must needs 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 none of loue, A second time I kill my husband dead, When second husband kisses me in bed. King. I do beleeue you think what now you speak, But what we doe determine, oft we breake, Purpose is but the slaue to memory, Of violent birth, but poore validity, Which now the fruit vnripe sticks on the tree, But fall vnshaken when they mellow be. 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 pssion ending, doth the purpose lose, The violence of either griefe or ioy, Their owne ennactures with themselues deftroy, Where ioy most reuels, griefe doth most lament, Griefe ioy, ioy griefes, on slender accedent, This world is not for aye, nor tis not strange, That euen our loues should with our fortuns 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, The Prince of Denmarke. The poore aduanced makes friends of enemies, And hethertoo doth loue on fortune tend, For who not needs, shall neuer lack a friend, And who in want a hollow friend doth try, Drectly seasons him his enemy. But orderly to end where I begun, Our wils and fates do so contrary run, That our deuices still are ouerthrowne, Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our owne, So thinke thou wilt no second husband wed, But dy thy thoughts when thy first Lord is dead. Quee. Nor earth to me giue food, nor heauen light, Sport and repose lock from me day and night, To desperation turne my trust and hope, And Anchors cheere in prison be my scope, Each opposite that blanks the face of ioy, Meet what I would haue well, and it destroy, Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, Ham. If she should break it now. If once I be a widdow, euer I be wife. King. Tis deeply sworne, sweet leaue me heare a while, My spirits grow dull and faine I would beguile The tedious day with sleep, Quee. Sleep rock thy brain, And neuer come mischance betwixt vs twainExeunt. Ham. Maddam, how like you this Play? Quee. The Lady doth protest too much me thinks. Ham. O but shee'le keep her wod. King. Haue you heard the argument? is there no offence in't? Ham. No, no, they do but iest, poison in ieft, no offence i'h (world. King. What do you call the Play? Ham.

The Mouserap, 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 anon, tis a knauish piece of work, but what of that? your Maiesty and we shall haue free soules, it touches vs not, let the gauled Iade winch, our withers are vn­ wrung. This is one Lucianus, 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 If I could see the puppits dalling. 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. Begin murtherer, leaue thy damnable faces and begin, come, the croking Rauen doth bellow for reuenge.

 Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit and time agreeing, Considerate season, els no creaure seeing, Thou mixture ranke, of midnight weeds collected, With Hecats ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, Thy naturall magicke, and dire propertie, On wholesome life vsurps immediately. Ham.

A poisons him i'th Garden for his estate, his names Gonza­ go, the story is extant and written in very choice Italian, you shall see 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 Horacio. Ham. Why let the stroken Deere goe weepe, The Hart vngauled play, For some must watch whilst some must sleepe,

Thus runs the world away. Would not this sir & a forrest of fea­ thers, if the rest of my fortuns turne Turk with me, with prouincial Roses, on my raz'd shooes, get me a fellowship in a city of Player?

 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 here 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. Ha. Vpon the talke of the poisoning. Hora. I did very well note him. Ham. Prince of Denmarke. Ham. Ah ha, come some musique, come the Recorders, For if the King like not the Comodie, Why then belike he likes it not perdie. Come, some musique. Enter Rosencraus, Guyldensterne. Gu. Good my Lord, voutsafe me a word with you Ham. Sir a whole historie. Guyl. The King sir. Ham. I sir, what of him? Guyl. Is in his retirement meruailous distempred. Ham. With drinke sir? Guyl. No my Lord, with choller. Ham.

Your wisedome should shew it selfe more richer to sig­ nifie this to the Doctor, for, for me to put him to his purgation, would perhaps 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. Guyl. The Queene your mother in most great affliction of spi­ rit, hath sent me to you. Ham. You are welcome. Guy.

Nay good my Lord, this curtesie is not of the right breed, if it shall please you to make me a wholsome answer, I will do your mothers commandement, if not, your pardon and my re­ turne, shall be the end of businesse.

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

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

 Ros.

Then thus she saies, your behauiour hath strooke her into amazement and admiration.

 Ham. O wonderfull sonne that can so stonish a mother! but is there no sequell at the heeles of this mothers admiration? impart. Ros. She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed. Ham. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother, haue you any further trade with vs? Ros. My Lord you once did loue me. Ham. And doe still by these pickers and stealers. HRos. The Tragedie of Hamlet Ros.

Good my Lord, what is your cause of distemper, you'do surely bar the doore vpon your owne liberty, if you deny your griefes to your friend.

 Ham. Sir I lack aduancement. Ros. How can that be when you haue the voyce of the King himselfe for your succession in Denmarke. Enter the Players with Recorders. Ham.

I sir, but wile the grasse grows, the prouerb is somthing musty, oh the Recorders, let me see one, to withdraw with you, why do you go about to recouer the wind of me, as if you would driue me into a toyle?

 Gu. 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 easie as lying gouern these ventages with your fin­ gers, & the thumb giue it breath with your mouth, and it wil dis­ course most eloquent musique, look you, these are the stops.

 Guyl. But these cannot I command to any vtrance of harmony, I haue not the skill. Ham.

Why look you now how vnworthy a thing you make of me, you would play vpon me, you would seem to know my stops, you would pluck out the heart of my mysterie, you would sound me from my lowest note to my compasse, and there is much mu­ sique, excellent voice in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak, s'blood do you think I am easier to be plaid on then a pipe, call me what Instrument you will, though you fret me not, you cannot play vpon me. God blesse you sir.

 Enter Polonius. Pol. My Lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently. Ha. Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a Camel? Pol. By'th masse and tis like a Camell indeed. Ham. Me thinks it is like a Wezell. Pol. It is black like a Wezell. Ham. Or like a Whale. Pol. Very like a Whal. Ham. Then Prince of Denmarke. Ham. Then I will come to my mother by and by, They fool me to the top of my bent, I wil come by & by, Leaue me friends. I will, say so. By and by is easily said, Tis now the very witching time of night, When Church‐yards yawne, and hell it selfe breaks out Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, And do such businesse as the bitter day Would quake to looke on: soft, now to my mother, O heart loose not thy nature! let not euer, The soule of Nero enter this firme bosome! Let me be cruell, not vnnaturall, I will speak dagger to her, but vse none, My tongue and soule in this be hypocrites, How in my words someuer she be shent, To giue them seales neuer my soule consent. Enter King, Rosencraus, and Guyldensterne. King. I like him not, nor stands it safe with vs To let his madnesse range, therefore prepare you, I your commission will forthwith dispatch, And he to England shall along with you, The termes of our estate may not endure Hazard so neer's as doth hourely grow, Out of his browes. Guyl. We will our selues prouide, Most holy and religious feare it is To keep those many many bodies safe That liue and feed vpon your Maiesty. Ros. The single and peculier life is bound, With all the strength and armour of the mind To keep it selfe from noyance, but much more That spirit, vpon whose weale depends and rests The liues of many, the cesse of Maiesty Dies not alone; but like a gulfe doth draw What's neere it, with it, or it is a massie wheele Fixt on the somnet of the highest mount, To whose huge spokes, ten thousand lesser things Are morteist and adioynd, which when it falls, H2Each The Tragedie of Hamlet Each small annexment, petie consequence Attends the boistrous raine, neuer alone Did the King sigh, but a generall growne. King. Arme you I pray you to this speedie voiage, For we will fetters put about this feare Which now goes to free‐footed. Ros. VVe 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 said, Tis meet 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. Thanks deere my Lord. O my offence is ranke, 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 strong intent, And like a man to double businesse bound, I stand in pause where I shall firt begin, And both neglect: what if this cursed hand Were thicker then it selfe wih brothers blood, Is there not raine enough in the sweet Heauens To wash it white as snow? whereto serues mercie 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 I'le looke vp. My faults is past, but oh! what forme of praier Can serue my turne? forgiue me my foule murther: That cannot be since I am stil possest Of those affects for which I did the murther; My Crowne, mine owne ambition, and my Queene; May Prince of Denmarke. 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 out the Law, but tis not so aboue, There is no shuffling, 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 strugling to be free, Art more ingaged! helpe Angles make assay, Bow stubborne knees and heart with strings of steele Be soft as sinnewes of the new borne babe, All may be well. Enter Hamlet. Ham. Now might I do it, but now a is a praying, And now Ile doo't, and so a goes to heauen, And so am I reuenged, that would be scand A villaine kils my father, and for that, I his sole sonne, do this same villaine send To heauen. Why, this is base and silly. — not reuendge, A tooke my father grosly, 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 heauie 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 swaing, or about some act That has no rellish of saluation in't. H3Then The Tragedie of Hamlet 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 stayes, This Physick but prolongs thy sickly dayes.Exit. King. My words flie vp, my thoughts remaine below Words without thoughts neuer to heauen go.Exit. Enter Gertrard and Polonius. Polo. A will come strait, look you lay home to him, Tell him his pranks haue bin too broad to beare with, And that your grace hath screen'd and stood betweene Much heat and him, Ile silence me euen heere, Pray you be round. Enter Hamlet. Ger. Ile waite you, feare me not, Withdraw, 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. Go go, 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 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 go not till I set you vp a Glasse Where you may see the most part of you. Ger. What wilt thou do, 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? Ger. Prince of Denmarke. Ger. O what a rash and bloudie deed is this. Ham. A bloudie deed, almost as bad good mother As kill a King, and marrie with his brother. Ger. As kill a King. Ham. I Lady it was my word. Thou wretched, rash, intruding Foole farwell, I tooke thee for thy better, take thy fortune, Thou find'st to be too busie is some danger. Leaue wringing of your hands, peace sit you downe, And let me wring your heart, for so I shall If it be made of penetrable stuffe, If damned custome haue nor brasd it so, That it be proofe and bulwarke against sence. Ger. What haue I done, that thou dar'st wagge thy tongue In noise so rude against me? Ham. Such an act That blurres the grace and blush of modestie, Cals vertue Hypocrite, takes of the Rose From the faire forehead of an innocent loue, And sets a blister there, makes marriage vowes As false as Dicers oathes, Oh such a deed! As from the body of contraction plucks The very soule: and sweet Religion makes A rapsodie of words; heauens face does 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 rores so lowd and thunders in the Index, Looke here vpon this Picture, and on this, The counterfeit presentment of two brothers, See what a grace was seated on his brow, Hiperions curles the front of Ioue himselfe, An eie like Mars, to threaten and command, A station like the Herald Mercurie, New lighted on a heaue, a kissing hill, A combination and forme indeed, Where euery God did seeme to set his seale To giue the world assurance of a man, This The Tragedie of Hamlet This was your husband, look you now what followes, Heere is your husband like a mil‐dewed eare, Blasting his wholsome brother: haue you eies? Could you on this faire Mountaine leaue to feed And batton on this Moore; ha, haue you eies? You cannot call it loue, for at your age The heyday in the bloud is tame, it's humble, And waits vpon the iudgement, and what iudgement Would step from this to this? sence sure you haue Else could you not haue motion, but sure that sence Is appoplext, for madnesse would not erre Nor sence to extasie was neere so thral'd But it reseru'd some quantitie of choice To serue in such a difference. What Deuill wast That thus hath cosond you at hodman‐blind? Eies without feeling, feeling without sight, Eares without hands, or eies, 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 eies into my soule, And there I see such black and grieued spots As will leaue there their tinct. Ham. Nay but to liue In the ranke sweat of an incestuous bed Stewed in corruption, honying and making loue Ouer the nastie stie. Ger. O speake to me 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. Of Prince of Denmarke. Of your pecedent 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 guard: what would your gracious figure? Ger. Alasse he's mad. Ham. Doe you not come your tardie sonne to chide, That lap'st in time and passion lets goe by Th' important acting of your dread command. O say! Ghot. Doe not forget: this visitation Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose, But looke, amazement on thy mother sits, O step betweene her, and her sighing soule! Conceit in weakest bodies strongest workes, Speake to her Hamlet. Ham. How is it with you Ladie? Ger. Alasse how i'st with you? That you doe bend your eie on vacancie. And with th'incorporall aire do hold discourse, Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peepe, And as the sleeping Souldiers in th'alarme, Your beaded hai like life in excrements Starts vp and stands an end: O gentle sonne! Vpon the heate and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle coole patience, whereon do you looke? Ham. On him, on him, looke you how pale he gleres, His forme and cause conioyned, preaching to stones Would make them capable, do not looke vpon me, Lest with this pittious action you conuert My sterne effects, then what I haue to doe Will want true colour, teares perchance for bloud. Ger. To whom 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. IHam. The Tragedie of Hamlet Ham. Why looke you there, looke how it steales away, My father in his habit as he liu'd, Looke where he goes, euen now out at the portall.Exit Ghost. Ger. This is the coynage of your braine, This bodilesse creation, extasie is very cunning in Ham. My pulse as yours doth temperatly keepe time, And makes as healthfull musick, 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 ranke corruption mining all within Infects vnseene: confesse your selfe to heauen, Repent what's past, auoid what is to come, And doe not spread the compost on the weeds To make them ranker, 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 Frock or Liuerie That aptly is put on to refraine night, And that shall lend a kind of easinesse To the next abstinence, the next more easie: For vse almost can change the stampe of nature, And master the Deuill, or throw him out With wondrous potencie: 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 Prince of Denmarke. To punish me with this, and this with me, That I must be their scourge and miniter, I will bestow him and will answer well The death I gaue him; so againe good night I muft be cruell onely to be kind, This bad begins, and worse remaines behind. One word more good Ladie. Ger. What shall I doe? Ham. Not this by no meanes that I bid you doe, Let the blowt King tempt you againe to bed, Pinch wanton on your cheeke, call you his Mouse, And let him for a paire of reechie kisses, Or padling in your necke with his damn'd fingers. Make you to 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 deere conseruings hide, who would doe so, No, in despight of sence and secrecie, Vnpeg the basket on the houses top, Let the birds flie, 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 said to me. Ham. I must to England, you know that, Ger. Alack I had forgot. Tis so concluded on. Ham. Ther's letters seald, & my two school‐fellowes, Whom I will trust as I will Adders fang'd, They beare the Mandate, 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 below their mines. And blow them at the Moone: O tis most sweet When in one line two crafts directly meet, I2This The Tragedie of Hamlet This man shall set me packing, I'le lugge the guts into the neighbour roome; Mother good night indeed, this Counsailer Is now most still, most secret, and most graue, VVho 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 Rosencraus and Guyldensterne. King. There's matter in these sighes, these profound heaues, You must translate, tis fit we vnderstand them, VVhere is your sonne? Gert. Bestow this place on vs a litle while. Ah mine owne Lord, what haue I seene to night? King. VVhat Gertard, 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 stir, 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 bin there, His libertie is full of threats to all, To you your selfe, to vs, to euery one, Alas, how shal this bloody deed be answerd? It will be laid to vs, whose prouidence Should haue kept short, restrain'd, 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 keep it from divulging, let it feed 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 weeps for what is done. King. Gertrad, come away, The Prince of Denmarke. The Sun no sooner shall the mountaines touch, But we will shp him hence, and this vile deed We must with all our Maiestie and skillEnter Ros. and Guyld. Both countenance and excuse. Ho Guyldensterne, Friends both, go ioyne you with some further ayd, Hamlet in madnesse hath Polonius slaine, And from his mothers closet hath he drag'd him, Go seeke him out speake faire 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 we meane to do And whats vntimely done, Whose whisper ore the worlds Diameter, As leuell as the Cannon to his blank, Transports his poysoned 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. Ha. Safely stowd, but softly, what noise, who calls on Hamlet? O here 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 we may take it thence, And beare it to the Chappell. Ham. Do not beleeue it. Ros. Beleeue what? Ham.

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

 Ros. Take you me for a spunge my Lord? Ha.

I sir, that sokes vp the Kings countenance, his rewards, his authorities, but such Officers do the King best seruice in the end, he keepsthem like an apple in the corner of his iaw, first mouth'd to be laft swallowed, when he needs what you haue gleand, it is but sqeesing you, and spunge you shall be dry againe.

 Ros. I vnderstand you not my Lord. Ham. I am glad of it, a knauish speech sleeps in a foolish eare. Ros. My Lord, you must tell vs where the body is, and go with vs to the King. I3Hamlet The Tragedie of Hamlet 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 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, 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 seem 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 bestow'd my Lord We cannot get from him. King. But where is he? Ros. Without my Lord, guarded to know your pleasure. King. 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. Ha.

Not where he eates, but where he is eaten, a certain conuo­ cation of politick worms 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 & your leane Beggar is but variable seruice, two dishes but to one table, that's the end.

 King. Alasse, alasse. Ham. A man may fish with the worme that hath eat of a King, eat of the fish hat hath fed of that worme. King. What doft thou meane by this? Ham. Nothing but to shew you how a King may go a pro­ gresse Prince of Denmarke. gresse through the guttes of a Beggar. 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 moneth, you shall nose him as you go vp the staires into the Lobby.

 King. Go seek him there. Ham. A will stay till you come. King. Hamlet this deed for thine especiall fafety Which we doe tender, as we deerly grieue For that which thou hast done, must send thee hence: Therefore prepare thy selfe; The Barke is readie, and the wind at help, 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 foot, Tempt him with speed abourd, Delay it not, I'le 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 free awe Paies homage to vs, thou maift 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 Hectick in my blood he rages, And And thou must cure me till I know tis done. How ere my haps, my ioyes will neere begin.Exit. Enter Fortinbrasse with his Armie ouer the Stage. Fortin. Go Captaine, from me greet the Danish King, Tell him, that by his licence Fortinbrasse Craues the conueyance of a promis'd march Ouer his Kingdome, you know the rendezuous, If that his Maiesty would ought with vs, We shall expresse our duty in his eye, And let him know so. Cap. I will doo't my Lord. Fortin. Go softly on. Enter Hamlet, Rosencraus, &c. Ham. Good sir whose powers are these? Cap. They are of Norway sir. Ham. How proposd sir I pray you? Cap. Against 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. Truly 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? Now will it yeeld to Norway or the Pole A rancker rate, should it be 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 without Why the man dies. I humbly thanke you sir. Cap. God buy you sir. Ros. Wil't please you goe my Lord? Ham. I'le be with you straight, go a little before. How all occasions do informe against me, And Prince of Denmarke. And spur my dull reuenge. VVhat is a man If his chiefe good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed, a beast, no more: Sure he that made vs with such large discourse Looking before and after, gaue vs not That capability and God‐like reason To fust in vs vnus'd, 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 do not know VVhy yet I liue to say this thing's to doe, Sith I haue cause, and will and strength, and meanes To doo't; examples grose as earth exhort me, VVitnesse this Army of such masse and charge, Led by a delicate and tender Prince, VVhose spirit with diuine ambition puft, Makes mouthes at the inuisible euent, Exposing what is mortall, and vnsure, To all that fortune, death and danger dare, Euen for an Egge‐shell, Rightly to be great, Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrell in a straw VVhen honour's at the stake. How stand I then That haue a father kild, a mother stain'd, Excitements of my reason, and my blood, And let all sleep, while to my shame I see The iminent death of twenty thousand men, That for a fantasie and trick of fame Go to their graues like beds, fight for a plot VVhereon the numbers cannot try the cause, VVhich is not tombe enough and continent To hide the slaine. O from this time forth, My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth.Exit. Enter Horatio, Gertrard, and a Gentleman. Quee. I will not speak with her. Gen. She is importunate. Indeed distract, her mood will needs be pittied. KQuee. The Tragedie of Hamlet Quee. What would she haue? Gent. She speaks much of her Father, sayes she heares There's tricks i'th world, and hems, and beats her heart, Spurnes enuiously at ftrawes, speaks 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 winks and nods, and gestures yeeld them, Indeed would make one thinke there might be thought Though nothing sure, yet much vnhappily. Hora. T'were good she were spoken with, for she may strew Dangerous coniectures in ill‐breeding mindes, Let her come in. Enter Ophelia. Quee. ‘To my sicke soule, as sins true nature is, ‘Each toy seemes prologue to some great amisse, ‘So full of artlesse iealousie is guilt, ‘It spills it selfe, in fearing to be spilt. Oph. Where is the beauteous Maiesty of Denmark? Quee. How now Ophelia.she sings. Ophe. 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 mountain snow Enter King. Quee. Alasse looke here my Lord. Ophe. Larded all with sweete flowers, Which beweept to the ground did not goSong. Wih true loue showers. King. How do you pretty Lady? Oph.

VVell good dild you, they say the Owle was a Bakers daughter, Lord we know what we are, but know not what wee may be; God be at your table.

 King Prince of Denmarke. King. Conceit vpon her Father. Ophe. Pray lets haue no words of this, but when they ask you what it meanes, say you this. To morrow is S. Valentines day,Song. All in the morning betime, And I a mayd at your window To be your Valentine. Then vp he rose, and dond his close, and dupt the chamber doore. Let in the maide, that out a maide, neuer departed more. King. Pretty Ophelia. Oph. Indeed without an oath I.le make an end on.t, By gis and by Saint charity, alack and fie for shame, Young men will doot.t if they come too.t, by Cock they are to blame. Quoth she, before you tumbled me, you promisd me to wed, (He answers) So should I a done by yonder sun And thou hadst not come to my bed. King. How long hath she beene thus? Oph.

I hope all will be well, we must be patient, but I cannot chuse but weep to think they would lay him i'th cold ground, my brother shall know of it, & so I thank you for your good counsel.

Come my Coach, God night Ladies, God night. Sweet Ladies God night, God night. King. Follow her close, giue her good watch I pray you. O this is the poison of deep griefe, it springs all from her Fathers death, and now behold, O Gertrard, Gertrard, When sorrowes come, they come not single spies, But in battalians: firft her Father slaine, Next, your sonne gone, and he most violent Author Of his owne iust remoue, the people muddied Thick and vnwholsome in thoughts, and whispers For good Polonius death: & we haue done but greenly In hugger mugger to inter him: poore Ophelia Diuided from her selfe, and her faire iudgement, Without the which we are pictures, or meere beasts, Last, and as much containing as all these, Her brother is in secret come from France, Feeds on this wonder, keeps himselfe in clouds, K2And The Tragedie of Hamlet And wants not buzzers to infect his eare With pestilent speeches of his fathers death, Wherein necessitie of matter beggerd, Will nothing stick our person to arraigne In eare and eare: O my deare Gertrard, this Like to a Murdring‐peece in many places Giues me superfluous death.A noise within. Enter a Messenger. King. Attend, where are my Swissers, let them guard the door, VVhat is he matter? Messen. Saue your selfe my Lord. The Ocean ouer‐peering of his list, Eates not the flats with more impetuous hast Then young Laertes in a riotous head Ore‐beares your Officers: the rabble call him Lord, And as the world were now but to begin, Antiquitie fogot, custome not knowne, The ratifiers and props of euery word, The cry choose we, Laertes shall be King, Caps, hands and ongues applau'd it to the clouds, Laertes shall be King, Laertes King. Quee. How cheerfully on the false traile they cry.A noise within. O this is counter, you false Danish dogs. Enter Laertes with others. King. The doores are broke. Laer. VVhere is this King? sirs stand you all without. All. No lets come in. Laer. I pray you giue me leaue. All. VVe will, we will. Laer. I thanke you keepe the doore, O thou vile King, Giue me my father. Quee. Calmely good Laertes. Laer. That drop of blood that's calme proclaimes me Bastard, Cries cuckold to my father, brands the Harlot Euen here between the chast vnsmerched brow Of my true mother. King. What is the cause Laertes That thy rebellion lookes so Giant‐like? Let Prince of Denmarke. Let him goe Gertrard, do not feare our person, The's such diuinitie doth hedge a King, That treason cannot peepe to what it would, Act's little of his will, tell me Laertes Why thou art thus incenst, let him go Gertrard, Speake man. Laer. Where is my father? King. Dead. Quee. But not by him. King, Let him demand his fill, Laer. How came he dead? Ile not be iugled with, To hell allegiance, vowes to the blackest deuil, Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit I dare damnation, to this point I ftand, That both the worlds I giue to negligence, Let come what comes, onely Ile be reueng'd Most throughly for my father. King. Who shall stay you? Laer. My will, not all the worlds: And for my meanes Ile husband them so well, They shall goe farre with little. King. Good Laertes, if you desire to know the certaintie Of your deare father, i'st writ in your reuenge, That soop‐stake, you will draw both friend and foe Winner and looser. Laer. None but his enemies. King. Will you know them then? Laer. To his good friends thus wide I'le ope my armes, And like the kind life‐rendering Pelican, Repast them with my bloud. King. Why now you speake Like a good child and a true Gentleman. That I am guillesse of your fathers death, And am most sensible in griefe for it, It shall as leuell to your iudgement peare As day does to your eie.A noyse within. Enter Ophelia. Laer. Let her come in. How now what noise is that? K3O The Tragedie of Hamlet O heate, dry vp my braines, teares seuen times salt Burne out the sence and vertue of mine eye. By heauen thy madnes shall be paid with weight Till our scale turne the beame. O Rose of May, Deere maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia, O Heauens, ist possible a young maids wits Should be as mortall as a poore mans life! Ophe. They bore him bare‐fac'd on the Beere,Song. And in his graue rain'd many a teare, Fare you well my Doue. Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and did'st perswade reuenge It could not mooue thus. Ophe. You must sing a downe, a downe, And you call him a downe a. O how the wheele becomes it, It is the false Steward that stole his Masters Daughter, Laer. This nothing's more then matter. Ophe. There's Rosemary, that for remembrance, pray you loue remember, and there is Pancies, thats for thoughts. Laer. A document in madnes, thoughts and remembrance fitted. Ophe.

There's Fennill for you, and Colembines, there's Rew for you, and heere's some for mee, wee may call it herbe of Grace a Sundayes, you may weare your Rew with a difference, there's a Dasie, I would giue you some Violets, but they witherd all when my Father died, they say a made a good end.

For bonny sweet Robin is all my ioy. Laer. Thought and afflictions, passion, hell it selfe She turnes to fauour and to prettinesse. Ophe. And will a not come againe,Song. And will a not come againe, No, no, he is dead, go to thy death bed, He neuer will come againe. His beard was as white as snow, Flaxen was his pole, He is gone, he is gone, and we cast away mone, God a mercie on his soule, and all Christians soules, God buy yous. Laer. Doe you this O God. King. Laertes, I must commune with your griefe, Or you deny me right, goe but a part, Make Prince of Denmarke. Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will, And they shall heare and iudge twixt you and me, If by direct or by collaturall hand They find vs toucht, we will our Kingdome giue, Our crowne, our life, and all that we call ours To you in satisfaction; but if not, Be you content to lend your patience to vs, And we shall ioyntly labour with your soule To giue it due content. Laer. Let this be so. His meanes of death, his obscure funerall, No Trophæ, Sword, nor Hatchment ore his bones, No noble right, nor formall ostentation, Cry to be heard as twere from heauen to earth, That I must call't in question. King. So you shall, And where th' Offence is, let the great axe fall, I pray you goe with me.Exeunt. Enter Horatio and others. Hora. What are they that would speake with me? Gen. Sea‐faring men sir, they say they haue Letters for you. Hora. Let them come in. I doe not know from what part of the world I should be greeted. If not from Lord Hamlet.Enter Saylers. Say. God blesse you sir. Hora. Let him blesse thee to. Say.

A shall sir and please him, there's a Letter for you sir, it came from the Embassador that was bound for England, if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.

 Hor.

Horatio, when thou shalt haue ouer‐look't this, giue these fellowes some meanes to the King, they haue Letters for him: Ere we were two daies old at Sea, a Pirat of very warlike appoint­ ment gaue vs chase, finding our selues too slow of saile, we put on a compelled valour, and in the grapple I boorded them, on the in­ stant they got cleere of our ship, so I alone became their prisoner, they haue dealt with me like theeues of mercy, but they knew what they did: I am to doe a turne for them, let the King haue the Letters I haue sent, and repaire thou to me with as much speed as thou wouldst flie death. I haue words to speake in thine eare will The Tragedie of Hamlet will make thee dumbe, yet are they much too light for the bord of the matter, these good fellowes will bring thee where I am, Rosencraus and Guildersterne hold their course for England, of them I haue much to tell thee, farwell.

So that thou knowest thine Hamlet.

 Hora. Come I wil make you way for these your Letters. And doo't the speedier that you may direct me To him from whom you brought them.Exeunt. Enter King and Laertes. King. Now must your conscience my acquittance seale, And you must put me in your heart for friend, Sith you haue heard and with a knowing eare, That he which hath your noble father slaine Pursued my life. Laer. It well appeares: but tell me Why you proceed not against these seates So criminall and so capitall in nature, As by your safetie, greatnesse, wisdome, all things else, You mainly were stirr'd vp. King. O for two speciall reasons Which may to you perhaps seeme much vnsinnow'd, But yet to me tha'r strong, the Queene his mother Liues almost by his lookes, and for my selfe, My vertue or my plague, be it either which, She is so concliue to my life and soule, That as the starre mooues not but in his Sphere I could not but by her: the other motiue, Why to a publike count I might not goe, Is the great loue the generall gender beare him, Who dipping all his faults in their affection, Worke like the Spring that turneth wood to stone, Conuert his Giues to graces, so that my arrowes Too slightly timbered for so loued armes, VVould haue reuerted to my bow againe, But not where I haue aim'd them. Laer. And so I haue a noble father lost, A sister driuen into desperate termes, VVhose worth, if praises may goe backe againe Stood Prince of Denmarke. Stood challenger on mount of all the age For her perfections, but my reuenge will come. King. Breake not your sleeps for that, you must not thinke That we are made of stuffe so flat and dull, That we can let our beard be shooke with danger, And thinke it pastime, you shortly shall heare more, I lou'd your father, and we loue our selfe, And that I hope will teach you to imagine. Enter a Messenger with Letters. Messen. These to your Maiesty, this to the Queene. King. From Hamlet, who brought them? Messen. Sailers my Lord they say, I saw them not, They were giuen me by Claudio, he receiued them Of him that brought them. King. Laertes you shall heare them: leaue vs.

High and mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your King­ dome, to morrow shall I beg leaue to see your Kingly eies, when I shall, first asking you pardon, thereunto recount the occasion of my sudden returne.

 King. What should this meane, are all the rest come backe, Or is it some abuse, and no such thing? Laer. Know you the hand? King. Tis Hamlets character. Naked, And in a postscript here he saies alone, Can you deuise me? Laer. I am lost in it my Lord, but let him come, It warmes the very sicknesse in my heart That I liue and tell him to his teeth, Thus didst thou. King. If it be so Laertes, As how should it be so, how orherwise, Will you be rul'd by me? Laer. I my Lord, so you will not ore‐rule me to a peace. King. To thine owne peace, if he be now returned, As liking not his Voyage, and that he meanes, No more to vndertake it, I will worke him To an exploite, now ripe in my deuise, Vnder the which he shall not choose but fall: LAnd The Tragedie of Hamlet And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe, But euen his mother shall vncharge the practise, And call it accident. Laer, My Lord I will be rul'd, The rather if you could deuise it so That I might be the organ. King. It falls right, You haue bin talkt of since your trauel lmuch, And that in Hamlets hearing for a qualitie Wherein they say you shine, your summe of parts Did not together plucke such enuie from him, As did that one, and that in my regard Of the vnworthiest siege. Laer. What part is that my Lord? King. A very riband in the cap of youth Yet needfull too, for youth no lesse becomes The light and carelesse liuerie that it weares Then setled age, his sables, and his weeds Importing health and grauenesse; two moneths since Heere was a Gentleman of Normandie, I haue seene my selfe, and seru'd against the French, And they can well on horse‐back, but this Gallant Had witch‐craft in't, he grew vnto his seate, And to such wondrous doing brought his horse, As had he bin incorp'st, and demy‐natur'd With the braue beast, so farre he topt me thought, That I in forgerie of shapes and tricks Come short of what he did. Laer. A Norman wast? King. A Norman. Laer. Vpon my life Lamord. King. The very same. Laer. I know him, well he is the brooch indeed. And Gemme of all the Nation. King. He made confession of you, And gaue you such a masterly report For art and exercise in your defence, And for your Rapier most especiall, That he cri'd out t'would be a sight indeed If Prince of Denmarke. If one could match you; the Scrimers of their nation He swore had neither motion, guard, nor eie, If you oppos'd them; sir this report of his Did Hamlet so enuenom with his enuie. That he could nothing do, but wish and beg Your sodaine comming ore to play with you. Now out of this. Laer. What out of this my Lord? King. Laertes was your father, deere to you? Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, A face without a heart? Laer. Why aske you this? King. Not that I think you did not loue your father, But that I know, loue is begun by time, And that I see in passages of proofe, Time quallifies the sparke and fire of it, There liues within the very flame of loue A kind of weeke or snuffe that will abate it, And nothing is at a like goodnesse still, For goodnesse growing to a plurisie, Dies in his owne too much, that we would doe We should doe when we would: for this Would changes, And hah abatements and delayes as many, As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents, And then this Should is like a spend‐thrifts sigh, That hurts by easing; but to the quicke of th'vlcer, Hamlet comes back what would you vndertake To shew your selfe indeed your fathers sonne More then in words? Laer. To cut his throat i'th Church. King. No place indeed should murther sanctuarize, Reuenge should haue no bounds: but good Laertes Will you do this, keepe close within your chamber Hamlet return'd, shall know you are come home, Weele put on those shall praise your excellence, And set a double varnish on the same The Frenchman gaue you: bring you in in fine together And wager ore your heads; he being remisse, Most generous, and free from all contriuing, L2Will The Tragedie of Hamlet Will not peruse the foiles, so that with ease, Or with a little shuffling, you may choose A Sword vnbated, and in a pace of practise, Requite him for your father. Laer. I will doo't, And for the purpose, Ile annoint my Sword, I bought an Vnction of a Mountebanke So mortall, that but dip a Knife in it, Where it drawes bloud, no Cataplasme so rare Collected from all simples that haue vertue Vnder the Moone, can saue the thing from death That is but scratcht with all, Ile touch my point With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly, it may be death. King. Lets further thinke of this. Weigh what conuiance both of time and meanes May fit vs to our shape if this should faile, And that our drift looke through our bad performance, Twere better not assayd. Therefore this proiect, Should haue a backe or second that might hold If this did blast in proofe; soft let me see, Wee'le make a solemne wager on your cunnings, I hau't, when in your motion you are hot and drie, As make your bouts more violent to that end, And that he cals for drinke, Ile haue preferd him A Challice for the once, whereon but sipping, If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck, Our purpose may hold there; but stay, what noise? Enter Queene. Quee. One woe doth tread vpon anothers heele, So fast they follow; your sisters drownd Laertes. Laer. Drown'd O where? Quee. There is a Willow growes ascaunt the Brook, That showes his hoarie leaues in the glassie streame, There with fantaftick garlands did she make Of Crow‐flowres, Nettles, Dasies, and long Purples That liberall Shepherds giue a grosser name, But our culcold maids do dead mens fingers cal them. There on the pendant boughes her Coronet weeds Clam­ Prince of Denmarke. Clambring to hang, an enuious sluer broke When downe her weedy trophæs and her selfe, Fell in the weeping Brookc, her clothes spred wide, And Mermaid‐like a while they bore her vp, VVhich time she chanted snatches of old lauds, As one incapable of her owne distresse. Or like a creature natiue and indewed Vnto that element, but long it could not be Till that her garments heauy with their drink, Puld the poore wench from her melodious lay To muddy death. Laer. Alasse then is she drown'd. Quee. Drown'd, drown'd. Lar. Too much of water hast thou poore Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my teares; but yet It is our trick, nature her custome holds, Let shame say what it will, when these are gone, The woman will be out. Adiew my Lord, I haue a speech a fire that faine would blase, But that this folly drownes itExit. King. Let's follow Gertrard, How much I had to do to calme his rage, Now feare I this will giue it start againe. Therefore lets follow.Exeunt. Enter two Clownes. Clown. Is she to be buried in Christian burial, when she wilfully seeks her owne saluation? Othe. I tell thee she is, therefore make her graue straight, the Crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian buriall. Clow. How can that be, vnlesse she drown'd her selfe in her own defence. Oth. Why tis found so. Clow.

It must be so offended, it cannot be else, for here lies the point, if I drowne my selfe wittingly, it argues an act, and an act hath three branches, it is to act, to do, to performe, or all; she drown'd her selfe wittingly.

 Oth. Nay, but here you good man deluer. Clow.

Giue me leaue, here lies the water, good, here stands the L3man, The Tragedie of Hamlet man, good, if the man goe to this water and drowne himselfe, it is will he, nill he, he goes, marke you that, but if the water come to him, and drowne him, he drownes not himselfe, argall, he that is not guilty of his owne death shortens not his owne lfe.

 Oth. But is this law? Clow. I marry i'st, Crowners quest law. Oth. Will you ha the truth an't, if this had not been a gentle­ woman, she should haue bin buried out a Christian buriall. Clow.

Why there thou saist, and the more pitty that great folke should haue countenance in this world to drowne or hang them­ selues, more then their euen Christen: Come my spade, there is no ancient gentlemen but Gardners, Ditchers, and Graue‐makers, they hold vp Adams profession.

 Oth. Was he a gentleman? Clow. A was the first that euer bore armes. I'le put another question to thee, if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confesse thy selfe. Oth. Goe to. Clow. What is hee that builds stronger then either the Mason, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter. Oth. The gallowes‐maker, for that out‐liues a thousand tenants. Clow.

I like thy wit well in good faith, the gallowes dooes well, but how dooes it well? It dooes wel to those that do ill, now thou doost ill to say the gallowes is built stronger then the Church, ar­ gall, the gallowes may doe well to thee. Too't againe, come.

 Oth. VVho builds stronger then a Mason, a Shipwright, or a Carpenter. Clow. I, tell me that and vnyoke. Oth. Marry now I can tell. Oth. Too't. Clow. Masse I cannot tell. Clow.

Cudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dul asse wil not mend his pace with beating, & when your are askt this questiōquestion next, say a graue‐maker the houses he makes lasts tel Doomday.

Goe get thee in and fetch me a soope of liquer. In youth when I did loue did loue,Song. Me thought it was very sweet To contract O the time for a my behoue, O me thought there a was nothing a meet. Enter Prince of Denmarke. Enter Hamlet and Horatio. Ham. Has this fellow no feeling of his busines? a sings in graue­ making. Hora. Custome hath made it in him a property of easines. Ha. Tis een so, the hand of little imploiment hath the daintier (sence. Clow. But age with his stealing stepsSong. hah clawed me in his clutch, And hath shipped me into the land, as if I had neuer been such. Ham.

That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once, how the knaue iowles it to the ground, as if t'were Cains iaw‐bone, that did the first murder: this might be the pate of a pollititian, which this Asse now ore‐reaches; one that would circumuent God, might it not?

 Hora. It might my Lord. Ham.

Or of a Courtier, which could say good morrow my Lord: how dost thou sweet Lord? This might be my Lord such a one, that praised my Lord such a ones horse, when a meant to beg it: might it not?

 Hora. I my Lord. Ha.

Why een so, and now my Lady worms Choples, and knockt about the mazer with a Sextens spade; heer's fine reuolution and we had the tricke to see't, did these bones cost no more the bree­ ding, but to play at loggits with them: mine ake to thinke on't.

 Clow. A pickax and a spade a spade,Song. for and a shrowding sheet, O a pit of Clay for to be made for such a guest is meet. Ha.

There's another, why may not that be the skul of a Lawyer? where be his quiddities now, his quillities, his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why dooes he suffer this mad knaue now to knock him about the sconce with a dirty shouell, and will not tell him of his actions of battery: hum, this fellow might be in's time a great buyer of Land, with his Statutes, his recognisances, his fines, his double vouchers, his recoueries, to haue his fine pate full of fine durt: will vouchers vouch him no more of his purchases and doubles, then the length and breadth of a payre of Indentures? The very conueyances of his Lands will scarcely lye in this box, and must th'inheritor himselfe haue no more? ha.

 Hora. Not a iot more my Lord. Ham. The Tragedie of Hamlet Ham. Is not parchment made of sheep‐skins? Hora. I my Lord, and of Calue‐skins too. Ham. They are Sheep and Calues which seeke out assurance in that, I will speake to this fellow. Whose graue's this sirra? Clow. Mine sir, or a pit of clay for to be made. Ham. I thinke it thine indeed for thou lyest in't. Clow. You lye out on't sir, and therefore tis not yours; for my part I do not lye in't, yet it is mine. Ham. Thou dost lye in't to be in't and say it is thine, tis for the dead, not for the quick, therefore thou lyest. Clow. Tis a quick lye sir, twill away againe from me to you. Ha. VVhat man dost thou dig it for? Clow. For no man sir. Ham. What woman then? Clow. For none neither. Ham. Who is to be buried in't? Clow. One that was a woman sir, but rest her soule shee's dead. Ham.

How absolute the knaue is, we must speak by the card, or equiuocatiōequiuocation wil vndoo vs. By the Lord Horatio, this three yeres I haue took note of it, the age is grown so picked, that the toe of the pesant comes so neere the heele of the Courtier he galls his kybe. How long hast thou been a Graue‐maker?

 Clow. Of the daies i'th yeere I came too't that day that our last King Hamlet ouercame Fortinbrasse. Ham. How long is that since? Clo.

Cannot you tell that? euery foole can tell that, it was that very day that young Hamlet was borne: he that is mad and sent into England.

 Ham. I marry, why was he sent into England? Clow. Why because a was mad: a shall recouer his wits there, or if a doe not, tis no great matter there. Ham. Why? Clow. Twill not bee seene in him there, there are men as mad (as he. Ham. How came he mad? Clow. Very strangely they say. Ham. How strangely? Clow. Faith een with loosing his wits. Ham. Vpon what ground? Clow. Why here in Denmark: I haue bin Sexton here man and boy thirty yeares. Ham. Prince of Denmarke. Ham. How long will a man lye i'th earth ere he rot? Clow.

Faith if a be not rotten before a dye, as we haue many pocky corses, that will scarce hold the laying in, a will last you some eight yeere, or nine yeere. A Tanner will last you nine yeare.

 Ham. VVhy he more then another? Clow.

Why sir, his hide is so tand with his trade, that a will keep out water a great while; and your water is a sore decayer of your whorson dead body, heer's a scull now hath lyen you i'th earth (twenty three yeares.

 Ham. VVhose was it? Clow. A whorson mad fellowes it was, whose do you think it (was? Ham. Nay I know not. Clow. A pestilence on him for a mad rogue, a pourd a flagon of Renish on my head once; this same skull sir, was sir Yoricks skull, the Kings Iester. Ham. This? Clow. Een that. Ha.

Alas poore Yoricke I knew him Horatio, a fellow of infinite iest, of most excellent fancy, he hath bore me on his back a thou­ sand times, and now how abhorred in my imagination it is: my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I haue kist I know not how oft: where be your gibes now? your gamboles, your songs, your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roare, not one now to mock your own grinning, quite chopfalne. Now get you to my Ladies table, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this fauour she must come, make her laught at that. Prethee Horatio tell me one thing.

 Hora. VVhat's that my Lord? Ha. Dost thou think Alexander lookt a this fashion i'th earth? Hora Een so. Ham. And smelt so: pah. Hora. Een so my Lord. Ham.

To what base vses we may returne Horatio? Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander, till a find it stopping a bunghole?

 Hora. 'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so. Ha.

No faith, not a iot, but to follow him thether with modesty enough, and likelihood to lead it. Alexander died, Alexander was buried, Alexander returneth to dust, the dust is earth, of earth we make lome, & why of that lome whereto he was conuerted, might

Mthey The Tragedie of Hamlet They not ftop a Beere‐barrell? Imperious Cæsar dead, and turn'd to Clay, Might stop a hole to keep the wind away. O that that earth which kepr the world in awe, Sould patch a wall t'expell the waters flaw. But soft, but soft awhile, here comes the King,Enter King Quee. Laertes and the corse. The Queen, the Courtiers, who is this they follow? And with such maimed rites? this doth betoken, The corse they follow, did with desprate hand Foredoo it owne life, 'twas of some estate, Couch we a while and marke. Laer. What Ceremony else? Ham. That is Laertes a very noble youh, make. Laer. What Ceremony else? Doct. Her obsequies haue been as far inlarg'd As we haue warranty, her death was doubtfull, And but that great command ore‐swayes the order, She should in ground vnsanctified bin lodg'd Till the last trumpet: for charitable prayers, Flints and peebles should be throwne on her: Yet here she is allow'd her virgin Crants, Her mayden strewments, and the bringing home Of bell and buriall. Laer. Must there no more be doone? Doct. No more be doone. We should prophane the seruice of the dead, To sing a Requiem and such rest to her As to peace‐parted soules. Laer. Lay her i'th earth, And from her faire and vnpolluted flesh May Violets spring: I tell thee churlish Priest, A ministring Angell shall my sister be When thou lyest howling. Ham. What, the faire Ophelia. Quee. Sweets to the sweet, farewell, I hop't thou should'd haue bin my Hamlets wife, I thought thy bride‐bed to haue deckt sweet mayd, And not haue strew'd thy graue. Laer. O trebble woe Fall Prince of Denmarke. Fall ten times double on that cursed head, Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious sence Depriued thee of, hold off the earth a while, Til I haue caught her once more in mine armes; Now pile your dust vpon the quick and dead, Till of this flat a mountaine you haue made To retop old Pelion, or the skyesh head Of blew Olympus. Ham. What is he whose griefe Beares such an Emphasis, whose phrase of sorrow Coniures the wandring Stars, and makes them stand Like wonder wounded hearers? tis I Hamlet the Dane. Laer. The Diuell take thy soule, Ha. Thou pray'st not well, I prethee take thy fingers (from my throat, For though I am not spleenatiue rash, Yet haue I in me something dangerous, Which let thy wisdome feare; hold off thy hand? King. Pluck them asunder, Quee. Hamlet, Hamlet. All. Gentlemen. Hora. Good my Lord be quiet. Ham. Why I will fight with him vpon this theame Vntill my eye‐lids will no longer wagge. Quee. O my sonne, what theame? Ham. I lou'd Ophelia: forty thousand brothers Could not with all their quantity of loue Make vp my sum. What wilt thou doo for her. King. O he is mad Laertes. Quee. For loue of God forbeare him? Ham. S'wounds shew me what th'out doo: Woo't weep, woo't fight, woo't fast, woo't teare thy (selfe, Woo't drinke vp Esill, eat a Crocadile I'le doo't: doost come here to whine? To out‐face me with leaping in her graue, Be buried quick with her, and so will I. And if thou prate of mountaines, let them throw Millions of Acres on vs, till our ground Sindging his pate against the burning Zone M2Make The Tragedie of Hamlet Make Ossa like a wart, nay and thou'lt mouth, I'le rant as well as thou. Quee. This is meere madnesse, And this a while the fit will worke on him, Anon as patient as a female Doe When that her golden cuplets are disclosed His silence will sit drooping. Ham. Heare you sir, What is the reason that you vse me thus? I lou'd you euer, but it is no matter, Let Hercules himselfe do what he may The Cat will mew, a Dog will haue his dayExit Hamlet, and Horati. King. I pray thee good Horatio wait vpon him. Strengthen your patience in our last nights speech, Weele put the matter to the present push: Good Gertrard set some watch ouer your sonne, This graue shall haue a liuing monument, An houre of quiet thereby shall we see Tell then in patience our proceeding be.Exeunt. Enter Hamlet and Horatio. Ha. So much for this sir, now shal you see the other, You do remember all the circumstance. Hor. Remember it my Lord. Ham. Sir in my heart there was a kind of fighting That would not let me sleep, me thought I lay Worse then the mutines in the bilbo's, rashly, And praisd be rashnes for it: let vs know, Our indiscretion sometimes serues vs well When our deep plots do fal, and that should learne vs There's a diuinity that shapes our ends, Rough hew them how we will. Hora. That is most certaine. Ham. Vp from my Cabin, My sea‐gowne scarft about me in the darke Gropt I to find out them, had my desire, Fingard their packet, and in fine withdrew To mine owne roome againe making, so bold My Prince of Denmarke. My feares forgetting manners to vnfold Thir grand commission; where I found Horatio A royall knauery, an exact command Larded with many seuerall sorts of reasons, Importing Denmarks health, and Englands to, With hoe such Bugs and Goblins in my life, That on the superuise no leisure baed, No not to stay the grinding of the Axe, My head should be strooke off. Hora. I'st possible? Ham. Here's the commission, read it at more leisure, But wilt thou heare now how I did proceed. Hora. I beseech you. Ham. Being thus be‐netted round with villaines, Or I could make a Prologue to my braines, They had begun the Play, I sat me downe, Deuis'd a new commission, wrote it faire, I once did hold it as our Statists doe A basenesse to write faire, and labourd much How to forget that learning, but sir now It did me yeomans seruice, wilt thou know Th' effect of what I wrote? Hora. I good my Lord. Ham. An earnest coniuration from the King, As England was his faithfull Tributarie, As loue between them like the Palme might florish, As peace should still her wheaten Garland weare And stand a Comma tweene their amities, And many such like, as sir of great charge, That on the view, and knowing of these contens, Without debatement further more or lesse He should those bearers put to sudden death, Not shriuing time allow'd. Hora. How was this seald? Ham. Why euen in that was Heauen ordinant, I had my fathers signet in my purse Which was the modell of that Danish seale, Folded the writ vp in the forme of th'other, Subscrib'd it, gau't th' impression, plac'd it safely, M3The The Tragedie of Hamlet The changling neuer knowne: now the next day Was our Sea‐fight, and what to this was sequent Thou knowest already, Hora, So Guyldensterne and Rosencraus go too't. Ham. They are not neer my conscience; their defeat Does by their owne insinuation grow, Tis dangerous when the baser nature comes Betweene the passe and fell incensed points Of mightie Opposites. Hora. Why what a King is this! Ham. Does it not think thee stand me now vpon? He that hath kild my King, and whor'd my mother, Pop't in betweene the election and my hopes, Throwne out his Angle for my proper life, And with such cosnage, i'st not perfect conscience? Enter a Courtier. Cour. Your Lordship is right welcome backe to Denmarke. Ham. I humbly thanke you sir. Doo'st know this Water‐flie? Hora. No my good Lord. Ham.

Thy state is the more gracious, for tis a vice to know him, He hath much land and fertill: let a beast be Lord of beasts, and his Crib shall stand at the Kings messe, tis a chough, but as I say, spacious in the possession of durt.

 Cour. Sweet Lord, if your Lordship were at leisure, I should impart a thing to you from his Maiesty. Ham. I will receiue it sir with all diligence of spirit, your bon­ net to his right vse, tis for the head. Cour. I thanke your Lordship, it is very hot. Ham. No beleeue me, tis very cold, the wind is Northerly. Cour. It is indifferent cold my Lord indeed. Ham. But yet me thinks it is very soultry and hot, or my com­ plexion. Cour. Exceedingly my Lord, it is very soultry as t'were I can­ not tell how: my Lord his Maiesty bad me signifie to you; that a has layed a great wager on your head, sir this is the matter. Ham. I beseech you remember. Cour.

Nay good my Lord for my ease in good faith, sir here is newly come to Court Laertes, beleeue mee an absolute Gentle­ man, Prin of Denmarke. man, full of most excellent differences, of very soft societie, and great showing: indeed to speake feelingly of him, he is the Card or Kalender of Gentrie: for you shall find in him the conti­ nent of what part a Gentleman would see.

 Ham.

Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you, though I know to diuide him inuentorially, would dizzie th'arithmetick of memorie, and yet but raw neither, in respect of his quick saile, but in the verity of extolment, I take him to be a soule of great ar­ ticle, and his infusion of such dearth and rarenesse, as to make true dixion of him, his semblable is his mirrour, and who els would trace him, his vmbrage, nothing more.

 Cour. Your Lordship speakes most infallibly of him. Ham. The concernancy sir, why do we wrap the Gentleman in our mor rawer breath? Cour. Sir. Hora. Ist not possible to vnderstand in another tongue, you will doo't sir really. Ham. What imports the nomination of this Gentleman? Cour. Of Laertes. Hora. His purse is empty already, all's golden words are spent. Ham. Of him sir. Cour. I know you are not ignorant. Ham. I would you did sir, yet in faith if you did, it would, not much approue me, well sir. Cour. You are ignorant of what excellence Laertes is. Ham. I dare not confesse that, least I should compare with him in excellence, but to know a man well, were to know himselfe. Cour. I meane sir for this weapon, but in the imputation laid on him by them in his meed, he's vnfellowed. Ham. What's his weapon? Cour. Rapiar and Dagger. Ham. That's two of his weapons, but well. Cour.

The King sir hath wagerd with him six Barbary horses against the which he has impaund as I take it six French Rapiers and Poinards, with their assignes, as girdle, hanger and so. Three of the carriages in faith, are very deare to fancie, very responsiue to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberall conceit.

 Ham. What call you the carriages? Hora. I knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done. Cour. The Tragedie of Hamlet Cour. The carriage sir are the hangers. Ham.

The phrase would be more Germn to the matter if we could carrie a Canon by our sides, I would it might bee hangers till then, but on, six Barbary horses against six French Swords their assignes, and three liberall conceited carriages, that's the French bet against the Danish, why is this all you call it?

 Cour.

The King sir, hath laid sir, that in a dozen passes betweene your selfe and him, he shall not exceed you three hits, he hath laid on twelue for nine, and it would eome to immediate triall, if your Lordship would vouchsafe the answere.

 Ham. How if I answere no? Cour. I meane my Lord the opposition of your person in trial. Ham.

Sir I will walke heere in the hall, If it please his Maiesty, it is the breathing time of day with me, let the foiles be brought, the Gentlen willing, and the King hold his purpose; I will win for him and I can, if not I will gaine nothing but my shame, and the odde hits.

 Cour. Shall I deliuer you so? Ham. To this effect sir, after what lorish your nature will. Cour. I commend my dutie to your Lordship. Ham. Yours doo's well to commend it himselfe, there are no tongues else for his turne. Hora. This Lapwing runs away with the shell on his head. Ham.

A did so sir with his dugge before a suckt it, thus has he and many more of the same breed that I know the drossie age dotes on, onely got the tune of the time, and out of an habit of incounter, a kind of mistie collecton, which crries them through and through the most profane and trennowned opinons, and doe but blow them to their triall, the bubbles are out.

 Enter a Lord. Lord.

My Lord, his Maiestie commended him to you by yong Ostricke, who brings back to him that you attend him in the hall, he sends to know if your pleasure hold to play with Laertes, or that you will take longer time?

 Ham. I am constant to my purposes, they follow the Kings pleasure, if his fitnesse speakes, mine is ready: now or whensoeuer, prouided I be so able as now. Lord. Prince of Denmarke. Lord. The King and Queene and all are comming downe. Ham. In happy time. Lord. The Queene desires you to vse some gentle entertain­ ment to Laertes, before you go to play. Ham. Shee well instructs me. Hora, You will loose my Lord. Ham. I do not think so, since he went into France, I haue bin in continuall practise, I shall winne at the oddes; thou would'st not thinke how ill all's heere about my heart, but it is no matter. Hora. Nay good my Lord. Ham. It is but foolerie, but it is such a kind of game‐giuing, as would perhaps trouble a woman. Hora. If your mind dislike any thing, obay it. I shall forestall their repaire hither and say you are not fit. Ham.

Not a whit we defie Augurie, there is speciall prouidence in the fall of a Sparrow, if it bee, tis not to come, if it bee not to come, it will be now, if it be not now, yet it will come, the readi­ nesse is all, since no man of ought he leaues, knowes what ist to leaue betimes, let be.

 A table prepared, Trumpets, Drums and Officers with Cushions, King, Queene, and all the state, Foiles, Daggers, and Laertes. King. Come Hamlet, come and take this hand from me. Ham. Giue me your pardon sir, I haue done you wrong, But pardon't as you are a Genleman, this presence knowes, And you must needs haue heard, how I am punisht With a sore distraction: what I haue done That might your nature, honour, and exception Roughly awake I heere proclaime was madnesse, Wast Hamlet wronged Laertes? neuer Hamlet, If Hamlet from himselfe be tane away, And when he's not himselfe, doe's wrong Laertes, Then Hamlet doe's it not, Hamlet denies it, Who does it then? his madnesse. Ift be so, Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged, His madnesse is poore Hamlets enemie, Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd euill, Free me so farre in your most generous thoughts That Ihaue shot my Arrow ore the house NAnd The Tragedie of Hamlet And hurt my brot her. Laer. I am satisfied in nature, Whose motiue in this case should stirre me most To my reuenge, but in my tearmes of honor I stand aloofe, and will no reconcilement, Till by some elder Masters of knowne honour I haue a voice and president of peace To my name vngor'd: but all that time I doe receiue your offered loue, like loue, And will not wrong it. Ham. I imbrace it freely, and will this brothers wager frankly play. Giue vs the Foiles. Laer. Come, one for me. Ham. Ile be your foile Laertes, in mine ignorance Your skill shall like a starre i'th darkest night Stick fiery of indeed. Laer. You mock me sir. Ham. No by this hand. King. Giue them the foiles yong Ostrick, cosin Ham. You know the wager. Ham. Very well my Lord. Your Grace has laid the oddes a'th weaker side. King. I doe not feare it, I haue seene you both, But since he is better, we haue therefore oddes. Laer. This is to heauy: let me see another. Ham. This likes me well, these foiles haue all a length. Ostr. I my good Lord. King. Set me the stoops of wine vpon the table, If Hamlet giue the first or second hit, Or quit in answer of the third exchange, Let all the battlements their Ordnance fire. The King shall drinke to Hamlets better breath, And in the cup an Onix shall he throw, Richer then that which foure sucessiue Kings In Denmarkes Crowne haue worne: giue m the cups, And let the Kettle to the Trumpet speake, The Trumpet to the Cannoneere without, The Canons to the Heauens, the Heauens to Earth, Now Prince of Denmarke. Now the King drinkes to Hamlet, come begin.Trumpets the while. And you the Iudges beare a warie eye. Ham. Come on sir. Laer. Come my Lord. Ham. One. Laer. No. Ham. Iudgement. Ostr. A hit, a very palpable hit.Drum, Trumpets and shot. Flourish, a Peece goes off. Laer. Well, againe. King. Stay, giue me drink, Hamlet this Pearle is thine. Heere's to thy health, giue him the cup. Ham. Ile play this bout first, set it by a while Come, another hit. What say you? Laer. I doe confest. King. Our sonne shall winne. Quee. He's fat and scant of breath. Heere Hamlet take my napkin rub thy browes, The Queene carowses to thy fortune Hamlet. Ham. Good Madam. King. Gertrard, doe not drinke. Quee. I will my Lord, I pray you pardon me. King. It is the poysned cup, it is too late. Ham. I dare not drinke yet Madam, by and by. Quee. Come, let me wipe thy face. Laer, My Lord, Ile hit him now. King. I doe not think't. Laer. And yet it is almost against my conscience, Ham. Come for the third Laertes, you doe but dally, I pray you passe with your best violence I am sure you make a wanton of me Laer. Say you so come on. Ostr. Nothing neither way. Laer. Haue at you now. King. Part them, they are incenst. Ham. Nay come againe. Ostr. Looke to the Queene there hoe. Hora. They bleed on both sides, how is it my Lord? Ostr. How ist Laertes? Laer. Why as a Woodcock to mine owne springe. Ostrick N2I The Tragedie of Hamlet I am iustly kild with mine owne treachery. Ham. How does the Queene? King. She sounds to see them bleed. Quee. No, no, the drink, the drink, O my deare Ham, The drink, the drink, I am poysned. Ham. O villaine! hoe let the dore be lock't, Treachery, seek it out. Laer. It is here Hamlet thou art slaine, No medecine in the world can do thee good, In thee there is not halfe an houres life, The treacherous instrument is in my hand Vnbated and enuenom'd, the foule practise Hath turn'd it selfe on me, loe here I lye Neuer to rise againe: thy mother's poysned, I am no more, the King, the Kings too blame. Ha. The point enuenom'd to, then venom to thy work All. Treason, treason. King. O yet defend me friends, I am but hurt. Ham. Here thou incestious damned Dane, Drink of this potion, is the Onixe here? Follow my mother. Laer. He is iustly serued, it is a poison temperd by him­ (selfe Exchange forgiuenesse with me noble Hamlet, Mine and my fathers death come not vpon thee, Nor thine on me. Ham. Heauen make thee free of it, I follow thee; I am dead Horatio, wretched Queene adiew. You that looke pale and tremble at this chance, That are but mutes, or audience to this act, Had I but time as this fell Sergeant Death Is strict in his arrest. O I could tell you! But let it be; Horatio I am dead, Thou liuest, report me and my cause aright To the vnsatisfied. Hora. Neuer beleeue it; I am more an antike Roman then a Dane, Heer's yet some liquor left. Ham. As th'art a man Giue me the cup, let goe, by heauen I'le hate, O Prince of Denmarke. O God Horatio! what a wounded name Things standing thus vnknowne, shall I leaue behind me? If thou didst euer hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity a while, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in paineA march a farre off. To tell my story: what warlike noise is this? Enter Osrick. Osr. Young Fortinbrasse with conquest come from Poland, Th'Embassadors of England giues this warlike volly. Ham. O I die Horatio, The potent poyson quite ore‐growes my spirit, I cannot liue to heare the newes from England, But I do prophesie the election lights On Fortinbrasse, he has my dying voyce, So tell him with th'occurrants more and lesse Which haue solicited, the rest is silence. Hora. Now cracks a noble heart, good night sweet (Prince, And flight of Angels singe thee to thy rest. Why dooes the drum come hether? Enter Fortinbrasse, with the Embassadors. Fortin. Where is this sight? Hora. VVhat is it you would see? If ought of woe, or wonder, cease your search. Fortin. This quarry cries on hauock, O proud death What feast is toward in thine eternall cell, That thou so many Princes at a shot So bloudily hast strooke? Embas. The sight is dismall And our affaires from England come too late, The eares are sencelesse that should giue vs hearing, To tell him his commandement is fulfill'd, That Rosencraus and Guyldensterne are dead, Where should we haue our thanks? Hora. Not from his mouth Had it th'ability of life to thanke you; He neuer gaue commandement for their death; But since so iump vpon this bloody question N3You The Tragedie of Hamlet You from the Pollock warres, and you from England Are here arriued, giue order that these bodies High on a stage be placed so the view, And let me speak, to th'yet vnknowing world How these things came about; so shall you heare Of cruell, bloody and vnnaturall acts. Of accidentall iudgements, casuall slughters, Of deaths put on by cunning, and for no cause, And in this vpshot, purposes miftooke, Falne on the Inuenters heads: all this can I Truely deliuer. Fort. Let vs hast to heare it, And call the noblest to the audience, For me with sorrow I embrace my fortune, I haue some rights of memory in this Kingdome, Which now to cleime my vantage doth inuite me. Hora. Of that I shall haue also cause to speake, And from his mouth, whose voice wil draw no more, But let this same be presently perform'd Euen while mens mindes are wilde, least more mis­ chance On plots and errors happen. Fort. Let foure Captaines Beare Hamlet like a Souldier to the stage, For he was likely, had he been put on, To haue proued moft royall; and for his passage, The Souldiers musick and the right of warre Speake loudly for him: Take vp the bodies, such a sight as this, Becomes the field, but here showes much amisse. Goe bid the Souldiers shoot.Exeunt. FINIS.