# Hamlet (1917) Yale/Text/Act II

Notes originally placed at the bottom of each page appear below, following Act II. Where these notes gloss a word in the text, the gloss can also be found by hovering over the text.
Where these notes refer to an end note (cf. n. = confer notam; "consult note"), a link to the accompanying end note is provided from the Footnotes section. The end notes accompanying Act II begin on page 159 of the original volume.
Layout 2
ACT SECOND
Scene One
[Polonius' Apartment in the Castle]
Enter Polonius and Reynaldo.
Pol. Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo.
Rey. I will, my lord.
Pol. You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, Before you visit him, to make inquiry 4 Of his behaviour.
Rey. My lord, I did intend it.
Pol. Marry, well said, very well said. Look you, sir, Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, 8 What company, at what expense; and finding By this encompassment and drift of question That they do know my son, come you more nearer Than your particular demands will touch it: 12 Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him; As thus, 'I know his father, and his friends, And, in part, him;' do you mark this, Reynaldo?
Rey. Ay, very well, my lord. 16
Pol. 'And, in part, him; but,' you may say, 'not well: But if 't be he I mean, he's very wild, Addicted so and so;' and there put on him ​What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank As may dishonour him; take heed of that; 21 But, sir, such wanton, wild, and usual slips As are companions noted and most known To youth and liberty.
Rey. As gaming, my lord? 24
Pol. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, Drabbing; you may go so far.
Rey. My lord, that would dishonour him.
Pol. Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge. 28 You must not put another scandal on him, That he is open to incontinency; That's not my meaning; but breathe his faults so quaintly That they may seem the taints of liberty, 32 The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, A savageness in unreclaimed blood, Of general assault.
Rey. But, my good lord,—
Pol. Wherefore should you do this?
Rey. Ay, my lord, 36 I would know that.
Pol. Marry, sir, here's my drift; And, I believe, it is a fetch of warrant: You laying these slight sullies on my son, As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, 40 Mark you, ​Your party in converse, him you would sound, Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes The youth you breathe of guilty, be assur'd, 44 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 country.
Rey. Very good, my lord. 48
Pol. And then, sir, does he this,—he does,— what was I about to say? By the mass I was about to say something: where did I leave?
Rey. At 'closes in the consequence.' 52 At 'friend or so,' and 'gentleman.'
Pol. At 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry; He closes with you thus: 'I know the gentleman; I saw him yesterday, or t' other day, 56 Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say, There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in 's rouse; There failing out at tennis;' or perchance, 'I saw him enter such a house of sale,' 60 Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. See you now; Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth; And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, 64 With windlasses, and with assays of bias, By indirections find directions out: So by my former lecture and advice Shall you my son. You have me, have you not?
Rey. My lord, I have.
​Pol. God be wi' you; fare you well. 69
Rey. Good my lord!
Pol. Observe his inclination in yourself.
Rey. I shall, my lord. 72
Pol. And let him ply his music.
Rey. Well, my lord.
Pol. Farewell! Exit Reynaldo.
Enter Ophelia.
How now, Ophelia! what's the matter?
Oph. Alas! my lord, I have been so affrighted.
Pol. With what, in the name of God? 76
Oph. My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd; No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ankle; 80 Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosed out of hell To speak of horrors, he comes before me. 84
Pol. Mad for thy love?
Oph. My lord, I do not know; But truly I do fear it.
Pol. What said he?
Oph. He took me by the wrist and held me hard, Then goes he to the length of all his arm, 88 And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, He falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; At last, a little shaking of mine arm, 92 And thrice his head thus waving up and down, ​He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound That it did seem to shatter all his bulk And end his being. That done, he lets me go, 96 And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd, He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; For out o' doors he went without their help, And to the last bended their light on me. 100
Pol. Come, go with me; I will go seek the king. This is the very ecstasy of love, Whose violent property fordoes itself And leads the will to desperate undertakings As oft as any passion under heaven 105 That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. What! have you given him any hard words of late?
Oph. No, my good lord; but, as you did command, 108 I did repel his letters and denied His access to me.
Pol. That hath made him mad. I am sorry that with better heed and judgment I had not quoted him; I fear'd he did but trifle, And meant to wrack thee; but, beshrew my jealousy! 113 By heaven, it is as proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions As it is common for the younger sort 116 To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king: This must be known; which, being kept close, might move More grief to hide than hate to utter love. Come. Exeunt.
Scene Two
[A Room in the Castle]
Enter King, Queen, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, with others.
King. Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern! Moreover that we much did long to see you, The need we have to use you did provoke Our hasty sending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet's transformation; so I call it, 5 Since nor the exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was. What it should be More than his father's death, that thus hath put him 8 So much from the understanding of himself, I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, That, being of so young days brought up with him, And since so neighbour'd to his youth and humour, 12 That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time; so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather, So much as from occasion you may glean, 16 [Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus,] That, open'd, lies within our remedy.
Queen. Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you; And sure I am two men there are not living 20 To whom he more adheres. If it will please you To show us so much gentry and good will As to expend your time with us awhile, For the supply and profit of our hope, 24 ​Your visitation shall receive such thanks As fits a king's remembrance.
Ros. Both your majesties Mighty by the sovereign power you have of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty.
Guil. But we both obey, 29 And here give up ourselves, in the full bent, To lay our service freely at your feet, To be commanded. 32
King. Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
Queen. Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz; And I beseech you instantly to visit My too much changed son. Go, some of you, 36 And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
Guil. Heavens make our presence, and our practices Pleasant and helpful to him!
Queen. Ay, amen!
Exeunt Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, [and some Attendants.]
Enter Polonius.
Pol. The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, 40 Are joyfully return'd.
King. Thou still hast been the father of good news.
Pol. Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good liege, I hold my duty, as I hold my soul, 44 Both to my God, one to my gracious king; And I do think—or else this brain of mine Hunts not the trail of policy so sure ​As it hath us'd to do—that I have found 48 The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.
King. O! speak of that; that do I long to hear.
Pol. Give first admittance to the ambassadors; My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. 52
King. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. [Exit Polonius.] He tells me, my sweet queen, that he hath found The head and source of all your son's distemper.
Queen. I doubt it is no other but the main; His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage.
King. Well, we shall sift him.
Enter Polonius, Voltimand, and Cornelius.
Welcome, my good friends! Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?
Volt. Most fair return of greetings, and desires. 60 Upon our first, he sent out to suppress His nephew's levies, which to him appear'd To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack; But, better look'd into, he truly found 64 It was against your highness: whereat griev'd, That so his sickness, age, and impotence Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys, 68 Receives rebuke from Norway, and, in fine, Makes vow before his uncle never more To give the assay of arms against your majesty. Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy, 72 Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee, And his commission to employ those soldiers, So levied as before, against the Polack; ​With an entreaty, herein further shown, 76 [Giving a paper.] That it might please you to give quiet pass Through your dominions for this enterprise, On such regards of safety and allowance As therein are set down.
King. It likes us well; 80 And at our more consider'd time we'll read, Answer, and think upon this business: Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour. Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together: Most welcome home.
Exeunt Ambassadors.
Pol. This business is well ended. 85 My liege, and madam, to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time. Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. Your noble son is mad: 92 Mad call I it; for, to define true madness, What is 't but to be nothing else but mad? But let that go.
Queen. More matter, with less art.
Pol. Madam, I swear I use no art at all. 96 That he is mad, 'tis true; 'tis true 'tis pity; And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure; But farewell it, for I will use no art. Mad let us grant him, then; and now remains That we find out the cause of this effect, 101 Or rather say, the cause of this defect, ​For this effect defective comes by cause; Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend. 105 I have a daughter, have while she is mine; Who, in her duty and obedience, mark, Hath given me this: now, gather, and surmise. The Letter. "To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified Ophelia.—" 109 That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is a vile phrase; but you shall hear. Thus: "In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.—" 112
Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her?
Pol. Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful. "Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; 116 Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love. O dear Ophelia! I am ill at these numbers: I have not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O most best! believe it. Adieu. Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him, Hamlet." This in obedience hath my daughter shown me; And more above, hath his solicitings, As they fell out by time, by means, and place, All given to mine ear.
King. But how hath she 128 Received his love?
​Pol. What do you think of me?
King. As of a man faithful and honourable.
Pol. I would fain prove so. But what might you think, 131 When I had seen this hot love on the wing,— As I perceiv'd it, I must tell you that, Before my daughter told me,—what might you, Or my dear majesty, your queen here, think, If I had play'd the desk or table-book, 136 Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb, Or look'd upon this love with idle sight; What might you think? No, I went round to work, And my young mistress thus I did bespeak: 140 'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star; This must not be:' and then I precepts gave her, That she should lock herself from his resort, Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. 144 Which done, she took the fruits of my advice; And he, repulsed,—a short tale to make,— Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, 148 Thence to a lightness; and by this declension Into the madness wherein now he raves, And all we wail for.
King. Do you think 'tis this?
Queen. It may be, very likely. 152
Pol. Hath there been such a time,—I'd fain know that,— That I have positively said, ' 'Tis so,' When it prov'd otherwise?
​King. Not that I know.
Pol. Take this from this, if this be otherwise: [Pointing to his head and shoulder.] If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre.
King. How may we try it further?
Pol. You know sometimes he walks four hours together 160 Here in the lobby.
Queen. So he does indeed.
Pol. At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him; Be you and I behind an arras then; Mark the encounter; if he love her not, 164 And be not from his reason fallen thereon, Let me be no assistant for a state, But keep a farm, and carters.
King. We will try it.
Enter Hamlet reading on a book.
Queen. But look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. 168
Pol. Away! I do beseech you, both away. I'll board him presently. Exeunt King, Queen, [and Attendants.] O! give me leave. How does my good Lord Hamlet?
Ham. Well, God a-mercy. 172
Pol. Do 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. 177
​Pol. Honesty my lord!
Ham. Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thou- sand. 181
Pol. That's very true, my lord.
Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a good kissing carrion,—Have you a daughter? 185
Pol. I have, my lord.
Ham. Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a blessing; but not as your daughter may con- ceive. Friend, look to 't. 189
Pol. [Aside.] How say you by that? Still harping on my daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: and truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for love; very near this. I'll speak to him again. What do you read, my lord?
Ham. Words, words, words. 196
Pol. What is the matter, my lord?
Ham. Between who?
Pol. I mean the matter that you read, my lord. 200
Ham. Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here that old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and plum-tree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for you yourself, sir, ​should be old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward. 210
Pol. [Aside.] Though this be madness, yet there is method in 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord?
Ham. Into my grave? 214
Pol. Indeed, that is out o' the air. [Aside.] How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter. My honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you. 222
Ham. You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal; except my life, except my life, except my life.
Pol. Fare you well, my lord. [Going.]
Ham. These tedious old fools!
Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Pol. You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is. 228
Ros. [To Polonius.] God save you, sir!
[Exit Polonius.]
Guil. Mine honoured lord!
Ros. My most dear lord!
Ham. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both? 234
Ros. As the indifferent children of the earth.
​Guil. Happy in that we are not over happy; on Fortune's cap we are not the very button.
Ham. Nor the soles of her shoe? 238
Ros. Neither, my lord.
Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favours? 241
Guil. Faith, her privates we.
Ham. In the secret parts of Fortune? O! most true; she is a strumpet. What news? 244
Ros. None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.
Ham. Then is doomsday near; but your news is not true. Let me question more in particular: what have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of Fortune, that she sends you to prison hither?
Guil. Prison, my lord! 252
Ham. Denmark's a prison.
Ros. Then is the world one.
Ham. A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst. 257
Ros. We think not so, my lord.
Ham. Why, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me it is a prison. 261
Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind.
Ham. O God! I could be bounded in a nut- shell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
Guil. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition, ​for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. 269
Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.
Ros. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is but a shadow's shadow. 273
Ham. Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason. 277
| Ros. | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ | We'll wait upon you. |
| Guil. | $\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,$ | We'll wait upon you. |
Ham. No such matter; I will not sort you with the rest of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most dreadfully at- tended. But, in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore?
Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occa- sion. 285
Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, come, deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak.
Guil. What should we say, my lord? 292
Ham. Why anything, but to the purpose. You were sent for; and there is a kind of con- fession in your looks which your modesties have ​not craft enough to colour: I know the good king and queen have sent for you. 297
Ros. To what end, my lord?
Ham. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obli- gation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you were sent for or no! 305
Ros. [Aside to Guildenstern.] What say you?
Ham. Nay, then, I have an eye of you. If you love me, hold not off. 309
Guil. My lord, we were sent for.
Ham. I will tell you why; so shall my antici- pation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult no feather. I have of late,—but wherefore I know not,—lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firma- ment, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and ​moving, how express and admirable! in action how like an angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintes- sence of dust? man delights not me; no, nor woman neither, though, by your smiling, you seem to say so. 331
Ros. My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
Ham. Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me?' 335
Ros. To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they coming, to offer you service. 340
Ham. He that plays the king shall be wel- come; his majesty shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not sigh gratis; the humorous man shall end his part in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose lungs are tickle o' the sere; and the lady shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt for 't. What players are they? 349
Ros. Even those you were wont to take delight in, the tragedians of the city.
Ham. How chances it they travel? their residence, both in reputation and profit, was better both ways. 354
​Ros. I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation.
Ham. Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city? Are they so followed?
Ros. No, indeed they are not. 359
Ham. How comes it? Do they grow rusty?
Ros. Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically clapped for 't: these are now the fashion, and so berattle the common stages,—so they call them,—that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither. 368
Ham. What! are they children? who main- tains 'em? how are they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing? will they not say afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common players,—as it is most like, if their means are no better,—their writers do them wrong, to make them exclaim against their own succession? 376
Ros. Faith, there has been much to-do on both sides: and the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to controversy: there was, for a while, no money bid for argument, unless the poet and the player went to cuffs in the question. 381
​Ham. Is it possible?
Guil. O! there has been much throwing about of brains. 384
Ham. Do the boys carry it away?
Ros. Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too. 387
Ham. It is not strange; for my uncle is King of Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little. 'Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out. Flourish for the Players.
Guil. There are the players. 395
Ham. Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsi- nore. Your hands, come then; the appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb, lest my extent to the players—which, I tell you, must show fairly outward—should more appear like entertain- ment than yours. You are welcome; but my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
Guil. In what, my dear lord? 404
Ham. I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.
Enter Polonius.
Pol. Well be with you, gentlemen! 408
​Ham. Hark you, Guildenstern; and you too; at each ear a hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling-clouts. 411
Ros. Happily he's the second time come to them; for they say an old man is twice a child.
Ham. I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; mark it. You say right, sir; o' Monday morning; 'twas so indeed. 416
Pol. My lord, I have news to tell you.
Ham. My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome,—
Pol. The actors are come hither, my lord.
Ham. Buzz, buzz! 421
Pol. Upon my honour,—
Ham. Then came each actor on his ass,—
Pol. The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral- comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene indi- vidable, or poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty, these are the only men.
Ham. O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou! 432
Pol. What a treasure had he, my lord?
Ham. Why "One fair daughter and no more, The which he loved passing well." 436
Pol. [Aside.] Still on my daughter.
​Ham. Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah?
Pol. If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love passing well. 440
Ham. Nay, that follows not.
Pol. What follows, then, my lord?
Ham. Why, "As by lot, God wot." 444 And then, you know, "It came to pass, as most like it was.—" The first row of the pious chanson will show you more; for look where my abridgments come.
Enter four or five Players.
You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am glad to see thee well: welcome, good friends. O, my old friend! Thy face is valanced since I saw thee last: comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What! my young lady and mistress! By 'r lady, your ladyship is nearer heaven than when I saw you last, by the altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the ring. Masters, you are welcome. We'll e'en to 't like French falconers, fly at anything we see: we'll have a speech straight. Come, give us a taste of your quality; come, a passionate speech. 461
First Play. What speech, my lord?
Ham. I heard thee speak me a speech once, I but it was never acted; or, if it was, not above ​once; for the play, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twas caviare to the general: but it was— as I received it, and others, whose judgments in such matters cried in the top of mine—an ex- cellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much modesty as cunning. I remember one said there were no sallets in the lines to make the matter savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might indict the author of affecta- tion; but called it an honest method, [as whole- some as sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine.] One speech in it I chiefly loved; 'twas Æneas' tale to Dido; and thereabout of it espe- cially, where he speaks of Priam's slaughter. If it live in your memory, begin at this line: let me see, let me see:— 480
"The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,—" 'Tis not so, it begins with Pyrrhus:— "The rugged Pyrrhus, he, whose sable arms, Black as his purpose, did the night resemble When he lay couched in the ominous horse, 485 Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd With heraldry more dismal; head to foot Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd 488 With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, Bak'd and impasted with the parching streets, That lend a tyrannous and damned light To their vile murders: roasted in wrath and fire, 492 ​And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore, With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus Old grandsire Priam seeks." [So proceed you.] 496
Pol. 'Fore God, my lord, well spoken; with good accent and good discretion.
First Play. "Anon, he finds him Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword, Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, 500 Repugnant to command. Unequal match'd, Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide; But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium, 504 Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for lo! his sword, Which was declining on the milky head 508 Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick: So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood, And like a neutral to his will and matter, Did nothing. 512 But, as we often see, against some storm, A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, The bold winds speechless and the orb below As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder 516 Doth rend the region; so, after Pyrrhus' pause, Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work; And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall On Mars's armour, forg'd for proof eterne, 520 ​With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword Now falls on Priam. Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods, In general synod, take away her power; 524 Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, As low as to the fiends!"
Pol. This is too long. 528
Ham. It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee, say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps. Say on; come to Hecuba. 532
First Play. "But who, O! who had seen the mobled queen—"
Ham. 'The mobled queen?'—
Pol. That's good; 'mobled queen' is good.
First Play. "Run barefoot up and down, threat'ning the flames 536 With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head Where late the diadem stood; and, for a robe, About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins, A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up; 540 Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd, 'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have pronounc'd: But if the gods themselves did see her then, When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, 545 ​The instant burst of clamour that she made— Unless things mortal move them not at all— Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, 548 And passion in the gods."
Pol. Look! wh'er he has not turned his colour and has tears in 's eyes. Prithee, no more. 551
Ham. 'Tis well; I'll have thee speak out the rest soon. Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstracts and brief chroni- cles of the time: after your death you were bet- ter have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
Pol. My lord, I will use them according to their desert. 560
Ham. God's bodikins, man, much better; use every man after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in. 565
Pol. Come, sirs.
Ham. Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow. Exit Polonius, [with all the Players but the First.] Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the Murder of Gonzago? 570
First Play. Ay, my lord.
Ham. We'll ha 't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a speech of some dozen or six- teen lines, which I would set down and insert in 't, could you not?
​First Play. Ay, my lord. 576
Ham. Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him not. [Exit First Player. To Ro- sencrantz and Guildenstern.] My good friends, I'll leave you till night; you are welcome to Elsinore. 581
Ros. Good my lord!
Exeunt [Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.]
Ham. Ay, so, God be wi' ye! Now I am alone. O! what a rogue and peasant slave am I: 584 Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit 587 That from her working all his visage wann'd, Tears in his eyes, distraction in 's aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! For Hecuba! 592 What's Hecuba to him or he to Hecuba That he should weep for her? What would he do Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have? He would drown the stage with tears, 596 And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, Make mad the guilty and appal the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed The very faculties of eyes and ears. 600 Yet I, A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, ​And can say nothing; no, not for a king, 604 Upon whose property and most dear life A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face? 608 Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this? Ha! Swounds, I should take it, for it cannot be 612 But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall To make oppression bitter, or ere this I should have fatted all the region kites With this slave's offal. Bloody, bawdy villain! Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! 617 O! vengeance! Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave That I, the son of a dear [father] murder'd, 620 Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, A scullion! 624 Fie upon 't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard, That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently 628 They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players ​Play something like the murder of my father 632 Before mine uncle; I'll observe his looks; I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be the devil: and the devil hath power 636 To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy— As he is very potent with such spirits— Abuses me to damn me. I'll have grounds 640 More relative than this: the play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. Exit.
Footnotes to Act II
Scene One
​7 Danskers: Danes 8 keep: live 10 encompassment: 'talking round' a subject 12 demands: questions 13 Take: assume 19 put on: impute to ​20 forgeries: invented tales rank: excessive 22 wanton: unrestrained 26 Drabbing: associating with immoral women 30 incontinency: habitual loose behavior 31 quaintly: ingeniously 32 taints of liberty: blemishes due to freedom 34 unreclaimed: untamed 35 Of general assault: to which all are liable; cf. n. 38 fetch of warrant: justifiable trick 39 sulllies: blemishes ​43 prenominate: aforesaid 45 closes: agrees consequence: conclusion 51 leave: leave off 58 a': he o'ertook in 's rouse: drunk 60 house of sale: house of ill fame 61 Videlicet: namely 64 reach: ability 65 windlasses: roundabout ways assays of bias: indirect attempts 66 indirections: devious courses directions: straight courses—i.e., the truth 67 lecture: instruction ​71 inclination in yourself: character for yourself 73 ply his music: go his own gait 77 closet: apartment 78 doublet: close-fitting coat unbrac'd: unfastened 80 down-gyved: hanging down like gyves or fetters 90 perusal: scrutiny ​95 bulk: breast 102 ecstasy: madness 103 property: nature fordoes: destroys 112 quoted: observed 113 wrack: ruin beshrew: curse jealousy: suspicion, mistrust 115 cast beyond: be over subtle 119 More . . . love; cf. n.
Scene Two
​11 of so young days: from such early youth 12 neighbour'd . . . humour: near in age and temperament 13 vouchsafe your rest: please to reside 18 open'd: revealed 22 gentry: courtesy 24 supply and profit: aid and successful outcome ​30 in the full bent: to the utmost degree of mental capacity 47 policy: conduct of public affairs ​52 fruit: dessert 56 main: the chief point 67 borne in hand: deluded 69 in fine: in conclusion 71 assay: trial 73 fee: payment ​79 regards . . . allowance; cf. n. 81 consider'd: fit for considering 86 expostulate: set forth one's views 90 wit: judgment, understanding 91 flourishes: embellishments 98 figure: figure of speech ​105 Perpend: consider 109 beautified: beautiful, or, accomplished 112 these: i.e., these lines 119 ill at: unskilled at making numbers: verses 120 reckon: number metrically, scan 123 machine: bodily frame; cf. n. 126 more above: moreover 127 fell out: occurred means: opportunities of access ​137 winking: with eyes shut, i.e., allowed my heart to connive 139 round: straightforwardly 140 bespeak: address 141 out of thy star: above the position allotted thee by fortune 148 watch: state of sleeplessness 149 lightness: lightheadedness declension: decline ​159 centre: middle point of the earth 163 arras: hanging tapestry 164 encounter: manner of behavior 170 board: accost presently: immediately 174 fishmonger; cf. n. ​184 good kissing; cf. n. 187 conception; cf. n. 197 matter: substance 198 Between who?; cf. n. 203 purging: discharging 204 amber . . . gum; cf. n. 207 honesty: decency ​216 pregnant: full of meaning 217 happiness: appropriateness 218 prosperously: successfully 224 withal: with 235 indifferent: ordinary, average ​237 on . . . button; cf. n. 244 strumpet; cf. n. ​272 quality: nature 274 beggars bodies; cf. n. 275 outstretched: strutting 276 fay: faith 277 reason: argue 278 wait upon: accompany 279 sort: class 282 beaten way: ordinary course 288 too dear a halfpenny; cf. n. 290 free: voluntary ​296 colour: disguise 300 conjure: adjure 301 consonancy of youth: being of the same age 303 better proposer: more skillful exhorter 304 even: straightforward 308 have an eye of you: have an eye upon you 312 prevent: precede discovery: disclosure 319 brave: splendid 320 fretted: adorned 324 faculty: capacity ​325 express: well-modelled 326 apprehension: understanding 328 quintessence; cf. n. 332 stuff: matter 337 lenten: meagre 338 coted: passed 343 foil and target: sword and shield 344 humorous man: actor of whimsical characters 345 clown: low comedian 346 tickle o' the sere: yield easily to any impulse; cf. n. 348 halt: limp 353 residence: remaining in one place ​355 inhibition: formal prohibition 356 innovation; cf. n. 357 estimation: reputation 362 aery: nest; cf. n. 363 eyases: young hawks cry . . . question: recite at the highest pitch of the voice; cf. n. 364 tyrannically: outrageously 365 berattle: fill with din common stages: public theatres 367 afraid of goose-quills: afraid of being satirized 370 escoted: maintained 371 quality: profession 373 common players: professional players 376 succession: future, or, inheritance 379 tarre: incite 380 argument: subject-matter, plot 381 cuffs: blows ​385 carry it away: carry the day 386 Hercules and his load; cf. n. 390 mows: grimaces 391 ducats: gold or silver coins 392 in little: in miniature 'Sblood: God's blood 394 Flourish: a trumpet call 397 appurtenance: proper accompaniment 399 comply: observe the formalities of courtesy garb: manner extent: showing of kindness 407 handsaw: saw managed with one hand; cf. n. ​411 swaddling-clouts: bandages in which newborn children were wrapped 419 Roscius; cf. n. 421 Buzz, buzz: an exclamation of contempt 427 scene individable; cf. n. 428 poem unlimited; cf. n. Seneca; cf. n. 429 Plautus; cf. n. law of writ and the liberty; cf. n. 431 Jephthah: title of an old ballad; cf. n. 436 passing: surpassing ​446 'as most like it was': as was most probable 447 row: stanza, verse, column of print (?) chanson: song 448 abridgments: means of whiling away the time 451 valanced: 'curtained,' with a beard 454 By 'r lady: By our Lady (The Virgin) 455 chopine: a Venetian raised shoe often worn by actors 456 uncurrent: not passable as lawful coinage 457 cracked . . . ring; cf. n. 460 straight: immediately ​466 caviare . . . general; cf. n. 468 cried in the top of: spoke with a louder voice of authority than 469 digested: arranged; cf. n. 470 modesty: without exaggeration, moderation cunning: skill in technique 471 sallets . . . savoury; cf. n. 473 indict: convict 475 handsome; cf. n. 476 fine: elaborately fashioned 477 Æneas' tale to Dido; cf. n. 481 Hyrcanian; cf. n. 485 ominous horse; cf. n. 488 gules: red trick'd: spotted 490 impasted: made into a paste ​493 o'er-sized: covered with something like size, a kind of glue 501 Repugnant to: resisting 503 fell: cruel 504 senseless: without physical sensation 510 painted tyrant: picture of a tyrant in a tapestry 511 a neutral: one indifferent matter: task 513 against: just before 514 rack: mass of cloud 516 anon: presently 517 region: the air 520 proof eterne: eternal impenetrability ​524 synod: assembly 525 fellies: the pieces of wood of which the circumference is made 526 nave: hub 530 jig: lively dance, often accompanied by coarse comic verses or dialogue 531 bawdry: indecency 532 Hecuba; cf. n. 533 mobled: muffled; cf. n. 537 bisson rheum: blinding tears (?) clout: piece of cloth 539 o'er-teemed: exhausted by excessive child-bearing 542 pronounc'd: proclaimed ​548 made milch: made weep 550 turned . . . colour: grown pale 554 bestowed: lodged 555 abstracts: summary accounts 561 God's bodikins; cf. n. 573 for a need: in case of necessity dozen or sixteen lines; cf. n. ​584 peasant: base 587 conceit: imagination 590 function: action of the body suiting: fitting 591 forms: bodily expression 595 cue; cf. n. 597 horrid: horrible 598 free: free from offence, guiltless 602 muddy-mettled: dull-spirited peak: mope about 603 John-a-dreams: dreamy fellow; cf. n. unpregnant of: not quickened by ​605 property; cf. n. 606 defeat: destruction 612 Swounds: God's wounds 613 But: but that pigeon-liver'd: meek; cf. n. 614 make oppression bitter: make me feel the bitterness of oppression 615 region kites: kites of the air 617 kindless: unnatural 623 drab: street woman 624 scullion: kitchen servant 625 About, my brain: bestir yourself, my brain, or, my brain, on another tack ​634 tent: probe blench: start aside 639 spirits: mental moods 641 relative: relevant, to the purpose