The Tragedy of Hamlet

Mar. Holla, Barnardo,

Bar. Say what is Horatio there?

Hora. A peeece of him,

Bar. Welcome Horatio, welcome good Marcellus,

Hora. What ha's this thing appear againe to night?

Bar. I haue seene nothing.

Mar. Horatio says tis but a fantafie,

And will not let beleefe take hold of him,

Touching this dreaded fight twice seene of vs,

Therefore I haue intreated him along,

With vs to watch the minuts of this night,

That if againe this apparition come,

Hee may approue our eyes and speake to it.

Hora. Tush, tush, twill not appeare.

Bar. Sit downe awhile,

And let vs once againe affaile your eares,

That are so fortified against our story,

What wee haue two nights seene.

Hora. Well fit wee downe,

And let vs heare Barnardo speake of this.

Bar. Last night of all,

When yond fame starre that's westward from the pole;

Had made his course till home that part of heaven

Where now it burnes, Marcellus and my selfe

The Bell then beating one.

Enter Ghoſt.

(gaine,

Mar. Peace, breake thee off looke where it comes a-

Bar. In the fame figure like the King that's dead.

Mar. Thou art a Scholler ſpeake to it Horatio.

Hora. Moſt like, it sorrowes me with ſeare & wonder.

Bar. It would be ſpoke to.

Mar. Speake to it Horatio.

Hora. What art thou that vſurſt this time of night,

Together with that faire and warlike forme,

In which the Maiety of buried Denmarkke

Did sometimes march: by heauen I charge the ſpeake.

Mar. It is offended.

Bar. See it ſtaukes away.

Hora

Prince of Denmarkke.

Hora. Stay, ſpeake, ſpeake I charge thee ſpeake.

Exit Ghoſt.

Ma. Tis gone and will not anſwere.

Bar. How now Horatio, you tremble and looke pale,

Is not this ſomething more then phantafie?

What thinke you of it?

Hora. Before my God I might not this beleeue,

Without the ſencible and true auouch

Of mine owne eyes.

Mar. Is it not like the King ?

Hora. As thou art to thy ſelfe :

Such was the very Armor hee had on,

When hee the ambitious Norway combated,

So frownde hee once when in an angry parle

Hee ſmote the ſleaded pollax on the ice.

Tis ſtrange.

Mar. Thus twice before and iump at this dead houre,

With Martiall ſtauke hath hee gone by our watch.

Hora. In what particular thought, to worke I know not,

But in the groſſe and ſcope of mine opinion,

This bodes ſome ſtrange eruption to our ſtate.

Mar. Good now fit downe, and tell me hee that knowes,

Why this fame ſtrict and moſt obſeruant watch

So nightly toyles the ſubieſt of the land,

And with ſuch dayly coſt of brazen Cannon

And forraine marte for implements of warre,

Why ſuch imprſſe of ſhip-wrights, whose ſore ſtaſſe

Does not deuide the Sunday from the weeke,

What might bee toward, that this ſweaty haſt

Doth make the night ioynt labourer with the day,

Who iſt that can informe mee?

Hora. That can I.

At least the whisper goes so, our laſt King,

Whose image euen but now appea'd to vs,

Was as you know by Fortinbraſſe of Norway,

Thereto pricct on by a moſt emulate pride

Dar'd to the combate ; In which our valiant Hamlet,

(For so this ſide of our knowne world eſteemd him)

Did ſlay this Fortinbraſſe, who by a ſcald compaſſ

Well ratified by law and Heraldry

B 2

Did

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Did forfait (with his life) all these his lands
Which hee flood feaz'd of, to the couquerour.
Against the which a moity competent
Was gaged by our King, which had returne
To the inheritance of Fortinbrasse,
Had hee beene vanquisher; as by the fame comar,
And carriage of the articles deaigne,
His fell to Hamlet; now Sir, young Fortinbrasse
Of vnimprooued mettle, hot and full,
Hath in the skirts of Norway heere and there
Sharkt vp a lift of lawlesse resolutes
For food and diet to some enterprishe
That hath a stomake in't, which no other
As it doth well appeare vnto our state
But to recover of vs by strong hand
And tearmes compulstory, those foresaid lands
So by his father loft; and this I take it,
Is the maine motive of our preparations
The source of this our watch, and the cheesef head
Of this poft-haft and romeage in the land,

Bar. I thinke it be no other but euen so;
Well may it soort that this portentous figure
Comes armed through our watch so like the King
That was and is the question of these warres.

Hora. A moth it is to trouble the mindes eye:
In the moft high and palmy state of Rome,
A little ere the mightie Julius fell
The graues flood tennantlesse, and the sheeted dead
Did fqueake and gibber in the Romane streets
As starres with traines of fire, and dewes of bloud
Disafters in the Sunne; and the moift starre,
Vpon whose influence Neptunes Empiet stands,
Was sick almost to doome'day with eclipſe.
And euen the like precurſe of ſearce cuents
As harbingers preceading still the fates
And prologue to the Omen comming on
Haue heauen and earth together demonſtrated
Vnto our Climatures and contrimen.

Enter Ghoſt.

But

Prince of Denmark.

But soft, behold, lo where it comes againe
Ile croſſe it though it blaſt mee: stay illusion,
If thou haſt any found or vſe of voice,
Speake to mee, if there be any good thing to bee done
That may to thee doe eafe and grace to mee,
Speake to mee.

It spreads
his armes.

If thou art priu to thy countryes fate
Which happily foreknowing may auoyd,
O speake:

Or if thou haſt vyphoorded in thy life
Extorted treasure in the wombe of earth,
For which they ſay your ſpirits oft walke in death.
Speake of it, stay and speake, ſtop it Marcellus.

The Cocke
crowes.

Mar. Shall I strike it with my partizan?

Hor. Doe it if it will not stand.

Bar. Tis heere.

Hor. Tis heere.

Mar. Tis gone,

We doe it wrong being so Maieſticall
To offer it the ſhowe of violence,
For it is as the ayre, invulnerable,

And our vaine blowes malicious mockery.

Bar. It was about to speake when the cock crew:
Hor. And then it ſtarted like a guilty thing,
Vpon a ſeaſull ſummons; I haue heard,
The Cock that is the trumpet to the morne,
Doth with his lofty and ſhrill founding throat
Awake the God of day, and at his warning
Whether in fea or fire, in earth or ayre,
Th'extrauagant and erring ſpirit hyes
To his confine, and of the truth heerein
This preſent obieſt made probation.

Mar. It faded on the crowing of the Cock.
Some ſay that euer gainſt that ſeaton comes,
Wherein our Sauiours birth is celebrated
This bird of dawning ſingeth all night long,
And then they ſay no ſpirit dare ſturre abroade
The nights are wholſome, then no plannets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charme

B 3

So

The Tragedy of Hamlet

So hallowed and so gratious is that time.
*Hor.* So haue I heard and doe in part beleeeue it,

But looke the morne in ruffet mantle clad
Walkes ore the dew of yon high Eastward hill:
Breake wee our watch vp and by my aduife

Let vs impart what wee haue seen to night
Vinto yong Hamlet, for vpon my life

This spirit dumb to vs, will speake to him :
Doe you consent wee shall acquaint him with it
As needfull in our loues fitting our duety.

*Mar.* Lets doot I pray, and I this morning know
Where wee shall find him moft convenient.

Exeunt.

*Florist.* Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrad the Queene, Counfaile : as Polonius, and his Sonne Laertes, Hamlet cum Alis.

*Claud.* Though yet of Hamlet our deare brothers death
The memory bee greene,and that it vs befitted

To beare our hearts in greefe and our whole kingdome,
To be contracted in one browe of woe,

Yet so farre hath discretion fought with nature.
That wee with wiserfowr thinke on him

Together with remembrance of our felues :

Therefore our sometime Sifter, now our Queene

Th' imperiall ioyntresse to this warlike state

Hae wee as twere with a defeated ioy

With an auſpitious, and a dropping eye,

With mirth in funerall, and with dirge in marriage,
In equall scale waighing delight and dole

Taken to wife : nor haue wee herein bard

Your better wifdomes, which haue freely gone

With this affaire along (for all our thankes)

Now followes that you know yong Fortinbraſſe,
Holding a weake ſuppoſall of our worth

Or thinking by our late deare brothers death

Our state to bee diſioynt, and out of frame

Colegued with this dreame of his aduantage

Hee hath not faild to peſter vs with meſſage

Importing

Prince of Denmark.

Importing the surrender of thofe lands
Loft by his father, with all bands of law
To our moſt valiant brother, so much for him:

Now for our ſelfe, and for this time of meeting,
Thus much the buſines is, we haue here writ

To Norway Vncle of young Fortenbraſſe

Who impotent and bedred ſcarcely heares
Of this his Nephewes purpose; to ſuppresse

His further gate heerein, in that the leuies,

The lifts, and full proportions are all made
Out of his ſubieſt, and we heere diſpatch

You good Cornelius, and you Valtemand,

For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,

Giuing to you no further perſonall power

To buſines with the King, more then the ſcope
Of theſe delated articles allow:

Farwell, and let your haſt commend your duty.

*Cor. Vo.* In that, and all things will we ſhow our duty.

*King.* We doubt it nothing, haſtely farwell,

And now Laertes what's the neſes with you?

You told vs of ſome ſute, what iſt Laertes?

You cannot ſpeake of reaſon to the Dane

And loſe your voyce; what would it thou begge Laertes?

That ſhall not be my offer, not thy asking,

The head is not more native to the heart

The hand more inſtrumentall to the mouth

Then is the throne of Denmark to thy father,

What would it thou haue Laertes?

*Lar.* My dread Lord,

Your leaue and fauour to returne to France,

From whence though willingly I came to Denmarke,

To ſhow my duty in your Coronation;

Yet now I muſt confess me, that duty done

My thoughts and wisheſs bend againe toward France,

And bow them to your gracious leaue and pardon.

*King.* Haue you your fathers leaue, what faies Polonius?

*Polo.* He hath my Lord wrung from me my flow leaue

By labourſome petition, and at laſt

Vpon his will I ſcald my hard conſent,

I

The Tragedy of Hamlet

I doe beſeech you giue him leaue to goe.

King. Take thy faire houre *Laertes*, time be thine,
And thy beſt graces ſpend it at thy will :

But now my Cofin Hamlet, and my ſonne.

Ham. A little more then kin, and leſſe then kinde.

King. How is it that the clowdes ſtill hang on you.

Ham. Not so much my Lord, I am too much in the ſonne.

Queene. Good Hamlet caſt thy nighted colour off
And let thine eye looke like a friend on *Denmarke*,
Doe not for euer with thy vailed lids,

Seeke for thy noble Father in the duſt,

Thou knowſt it is common all that liues muſt dye,

Paſſing through nature to eternitie.

Ham. I Maddam, it is common.

Quee. If it bee

Why ſeemes it ſo perticuler with thee.

Ham. ſeemes Maddam, may it is, I know not ſeemes,
Tis not alone my incky cloake could ſmother,

Nor customary ſutes of ſolène black,
Nor windie ſulpitation of ſorſt breath,

No, nor the fruitfull riuer in the eye,

Nor the deieſted hauior of the viſit,

Together with all ſormes, moodes, ſhapes of griſe

That can deuore me truely, theſe indeed ſeeme,
For they are actions that a man might play,

But I haue that within which paſſe ſhowe,

Theſe but the trappings and the ſuites of woe.

King. Tis ſwecte and commendable in your nature Hamlet,
To giue theſe mourning duties to your Father,

But you muſt know your father loft a father,

That father loft, loft his, and the ſuruuer bound

In fillial obligation for ſome tearme

To doe obſequious ſorrowes, but to perſeuer
In obſtinate condolement, is a courſe

Of impious ſtubborneſſe, tis vnmanly griſe,

It ſhowes a will muſt incorrect to heauen,

A hart vnfortiſed, or minde impatient,

An understanding ſimple and vnſchoold,

For what we know muſt be, and is as common

As

Prince of Denmark.

As any the muſt vulgar thing to ſence,
Why ſhould we in our pecuilſh oppoſition

Take it to hart, ſie, tis a ſault to heauen,
A ſault againſt the dead, a ſault to nature,

To reaſon muſt abſurd, whoſe common theame

Is death of fathers, and who ſtill hath cryed
From the firſt courſe, till he that dyed to day

This muſt be ſo: we pray you throw to earth

This vnpreuailing woe, and thinke of vs

As of a father, for let the world take note

You are the muſt imediate to our throne,

And with no leſſe nobility of loue

Then that which deareſt father beares his ſonne,

Doe I impart toward you for your intent,

In going back to ſchoole to *Wittenberg*,

It is muſt retrogard to our deſire,

And we beſeech you bend you to remaine

Heere in the cheare and comfort of our eye,

Our chiefef courtier, cofin, and our ſonne.

Quee. Let not thy mother loose her prayers Hamlet,
I pray thee ſtay with vs, goe not to *Wittenberg*.

Ham. I ſhall in all my beſt obay you Madam,

King. Why tis a louing and a faire reply,

Be as our ſelfe in Denmark, Madam come,

This gentle and vnforc'd accord of Hamlet

Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof,

No iocond health that Denmark drinkes to day,

But the great Cannon to the clowdes ſhall tell.

And the Kings rowſe the heauen ſhall brute againe,

Reſpeaking earthly thunder; come away. Florish. Exeunt all
Ham. O that this too too ſallied fleſh would melt, but Hamlet.

Thaw and refolue it ſelfe into a dew,

Or that the euerlaſting had not fixt

His cannon gainſt ſeale ſlaughter, ò God, God,

How wary, ſtale, flat, and vnprofitable

Seeme to me all the vſes of this world ?

Fie on't, ah ſie, tis an vnweeded garden,

That growes to feed things ranck and groſe in nature,

Poffeſſe it meereſly that it should come thus

C

Bus

The Tragedie of Hamlet

But two months dead, nay not so much, not two,
So excellent a King, that was to this
Hyperion to a Satire, so louing to my mother,
That he might not betceme the winds of heauen
Visit her face too roughly: heauen and earth
Muft I remember, why she should hang on him.
As if increafe of appetite had growne
By what it fed on, and yet within a month,
Let me not thinke on't; frailty thy name is woman.
A little month. Or ere those shooes were old
With which she followed my poore fathers body
Like Niobe all teares, why she
O God ! a beaft that wants discourse of reason
Would haue mourn'd longer, married with my Vncle,
My fathers brother, but no more like my father
Then I to Hercules, within a month,
Ere yet the salt of moft vnrighteous teares
Had left the flushing in her gauled eyes
She married Oh ! moft wicked speed; to poft
With such dexterity to incesſious ſlectes,
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 Lordship.
(Helfe.
Ham. I am glad to see you well; Horatio, or I do forget my
Hora. the fame 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 fir)
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 do my eare that violence
To make it truſter of your owne report
Against your ſelfe, I know you are no truant,
But what is your affaire in Elſonoure?
Weele teach you for to drinke ere you depart.

Hora.

Prince of Denmark.

Hora. My Lord, I came to see your fathers ſunerall.
Ham. I prethee doe not mocke me fellow ſtudent,
I thinke it was to my mothers wedding.
Hora. Indeed my Lord it followed hard vpon.
Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio, the ſunerall bak't meates
Did coldly furniſh forth the marriage tables,
Would I had met my deareſt ſee 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 mindeſe eye Horatio.
Hora. I ſaw him once, a was a goodly King.
Ham. A was a man take him for all in all
I ſhall not looke vpon his like againe.
Hora. My Lord I thinke I ſaw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw, who?
Hora. My Lord the King your father.
Ham. The King my Father?
Hora. Seaſon your admiration for a while
With an attentive eare till I may deliuer
Vpon the witneſſe of theſe gentlemen
This maruaile to you.

Ham. For Gods loue let me heare?
Hora. Two nights together had theſe gentlemen
Marcellus, and Barnardo, on their watch,
In the dead waſt and middle of the night
Beene thus incountred, a figure like your father
Armed at poynt, exacely Cap apea
Appeares before them, and with ſolemne march,
Goes flowe and ſtately by them; thrice he walkt
By their oppreſt and ſeare ſurpris'd eyes,
Within this ronchions length, while it they diſtil'd
Almoſt to gelly, with the act of ſeare
Stand dumbe and ſpeake not to him; this to me,
In dreadfull ſecrecy impart they did,
And I with them the third night kept the watch,
Whereas they had deliuer'd both in time,
Forme of the thing, each word made true and good,
The Apparition comes: I knew your father,

Ca

Theſe

The Tragedie of Hamlet

These hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this?

Mar. My Lord vpon the platforme where wee watcht,

Ham. Did you not speake to it ?

Nora. My Lord I did,

But answer made it none, yet once mee thought

It lifted vp it head and did addresse

It selfe to motion, like as it would speake :

But euen then the morning Cock crew loude,

And at the found it shruncke in haft away

And vanifht from our fight.

Ham. Tis very strange.

Hora. As I doe live my honor'd Lord tis true

And wee did thinke it writ downe in our ducty

To let you know of it.

Ham. Indee de firrs but this troubles me,

Hold you the watch to night ?

All. Wee doe my Lord.

Ham. Arm'd fay you ?

All. Arm'd my Lord.

Ham. From top to toe ?

All. My Lord from head to foote.

Ham. Then saw you not his face ?

Hora. O yes my Lord, hee wore his beauer vp.

Ham. What look't hee frowningly ?

Hora. A countenance more inorrow then in anger.

Ham. Pale or red ?

Hora. Nay very pale.

Ham. And fixt his eyes vpon you?

Hora. Most constantly,

Ham. I would I had beene there.

Hora. It would haue much amaz'd you.

Ham. Very like: flaid it long?

Hora. While one with moderate haft might tell a hundreth,

Both. Longer, longer,

Hora. Not when I saw't.

Ham. His beard was grifs'd, no.

Hora. It was as I haue seene it in his life.

A fable filuer'd.

Haw.

Prince of Denmark.

Ham. I will watch to night

Perchance twill walke againe.

Hora. I warn't it will

Ham. If it affume my noble fathers person,

Ile speake to it though hell it selfe should gape
And bid mee hold my peace; I pray you all

If you haue hetherto conceal this fight
Let it be tenable in your silence still,

And whatsoeuer els shall hap to night,

Give it an understanding but no tongue,

I will requite your loues, so fare you well :

Vpon the platforme twixt a leauen and twelue
Ile visit you.

All Our duety to your honor.

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 fit still my foule, foule deedes will rife

Though all the earth ore-whelme them to mens eyes,

Enter Laertes and Ophelia his Sister.

Exit,

Laer. My neceffaries are inbarckt, farewell,

And fister as the winds giue benefit

And conuay, in affistant, do not sleepe

But let me heare from you.

Ophe. Doe you doubt that ?

Laer. For Hamlet and the trifling of his fauour,
Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood,
A Violet in the youth of primy nature,
Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting.

The perfume and suppliance of a minute

No more.

Ophe. No more but so.

Laer. Thinke it no more.

For nature creffant does not grow alone,

In thewes and bulkes, but as this temple waxes

The inward seruice of the mind and foule

Growes wide withall, perhaps hee loues you now,

And now no soyle nor cautell doth besmerch

The vertue of his will, but you must teare,

C 3

His

## The Tragedy of Hamlet

His greatnes waid,his will is not his owne,
He may not as vnalewed persons doe,
Craue for himselfe,for on his choife depends
The safety and health of this whole state,
And therefore muſt his choife be circuſcrib'd,
Vnto the voyce and yeelding of that body,
Whereof he is the head,then if he faies he loues you,
It fits your wifdome so farre to beleeue it

As he in his particular act and place
May giue his ſaying deede,which is no further,
Then the maine voyce of Denmarke goes withall.
Then way what loſſe your honor may ſuſtaine.
If with too credent eare you lift his ſongs
Or loſſe your heart,or your chaſt treaſure open,
To his vnmaſtred importunity.

Feare it Ophelia,feare it my deare ſister,
And keepe you in the reare of your affection
Out of the ſhot and danger of desire,

,The chariſt maide is prodigall enough
If the vnmaſke her beauty to the Moone
,Vertue it ſelfe ſcapes not calumnious ſtrokes
,The canker gaules the infant of the ſpring
Too oft before their buttons be diſcloſ'd,
And in the morne and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blaſſments are moſt iminent,
Be wary then,beſt safety lies in ſeare,

Youth to it ſelfe rebels though none eſſe neare.
Ophe, I ſhall the effect of this good leſſon keepe,

As watchmen to my heart:but good my brother
Doe not as ſome vngracious paftors doe,
Show me the ſleepe and thorny way to heauen
Whiles a puſt,and reckles libertine,
Himſelfe the primroſe path of dalience treads,

And reakes not his owne reed.

Enter Polonius.

Laer. O ſeare me not,

I ſtay too long, but heere my father comes
A double bleſſing, is a double grace,
Occafion ſmiles vpon a ſecond leaue,

Po'. Yet here Laertes ? a bord,a bord for ſhame,

The

## Prince of Denmark.

The wind fits in the shoulder of your ſaile,
And you are ſtaied for, there my bleſſing with thee,
And theſe few precepts in thy memory

Looke thou character, giue thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any vnproportion'd thought his act,
Be thou familier, but by no meanes vulgar,
Thofe friends thou haſt and their adoption tried,
Grapple them vnto thy ſoule with hoopes of ſteele,
But do not dull thy palme with entertainment
Of each new hatcher vnſledgd courage; beware
Of entrance to a quarrell, but beeing in,
Bear't that th'oppoſer may beware of thee.

Giue euery man thy eare, but ſew thy voyce,
Take each man's cenſure, but reſerue thy judgement,
Coſtly thy habite as thy purſe can buy,
But not expreſt in fancy; rich not gandy,
For the apparrell oft proclaimes the man :

And they in France of the beſt ranck and ſtation,

Ar of a moſt ſelect and generous, cheeſe in that:

Neither a borower nor a lender boy,
For loue oft loſſes both it ſelfe, and friend,
And borrowing dulleth the edge of husbandry:

This aboue all, to thine owne ſelfe be true

And it muſt follow as the night the day

Thou canſt not then bee ſaſle to any man :

Farewell, my bleſſing ſeaſon this in thee.

Laer. Mott humbly do I take my leaue my Lord,

Pol. The time inueſts you, goe,your ſeruants tend,

Laer. Farewell Ophelia, and remember well

What I haue ſaid to you,

Ophe. Tis in my memory lockt

And you your ſelfe ſhall keepe the key of it.

Laer. Farewell Exit, Laertes.

Pol. what ift Ophelia hee hath ſaid to you?

Ophe. So pleaſe you,something touching the Lord Hamlet,

Pol. Marry well bethought

Tis told me hee hath very oft of late

Guen priuate time to you, and you your ſelfe

Haue of your audience beene moſt free and bountioſ,

If

The Tragedy of Hamlet

I fit be so, as so tis put on me,
And that in way of caution, I muſt tell you,
You doe not vnderstand your ſelfe ſo cleerely
As it behooues my daughter and your honor,
What is betwene 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 ſpeak like a greene girl,
Unſiſted in ſuch perrilous circumſtance,
Doe you belieue his tenders, as you call them?
Ophe. I doe not know my Lord what I should thinke.
Pol. Marry I will teach you, thinke your ſelfe a babie,
That you haue tane theſe tenders for true pay,
Which are not ſterling: tender your ſelfe more dearely
Or (not to crack the winde of the poore phraſe)
Wrong it thus, youle tender me a fool.
Ophe. My Lord he hath importun'd me with loue
In honorable fashion.

Pol. I, fashion you may call it, go to, go to.
Ophe. And hath giuen countenance to his ſpeech
My Lord, with almoſt all the holy vowes of heauen.
Pol. I, ſpringes to catch wood-cocks, I doe know
When the blood burnes, how prodigall the ſoule
Lends the tongue vowes, theſe blazes daughter
Giuing more light then heate, extinct in both
Euen in their promife, as it is a making
You muſt not tak't for fire: from this time
Be ſome-thing ſcanter of your maiden prefence
Set your intreatments at a higher rate
Then a command to parle; for Lord Hamlet,
Belieue ſomuch in him, that he is young,
And with a larger teder may he walke
Then may be giuen you: in few Ophelia,
Doe not belieue his vowes, for they are brokers
Not of that die which their inueſtments ſhow
But meere implorators of vnholy ſuites,
Breathing like ſanctiſed and pious bonds
The better to beguile: this is for all,
I, would not in plaine terms from this time foorth

Haue

Prince of Denmark.

Haue you ſo ſlaUNDER any momentes leaſure
Asto giue words or talke with the Lord Hamlet,
Looke too't I charge you, come your wayes,
Ophe. I ſhall obey my Lord.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.

Ham. The ayre bites ſhroudly, it is very colde.
Hor. It is nipping, and an eager ayre.
Ham. What hour now?
Hor. I think it lackes of twelue.
Mar. No, it is ſttooke.
Hor. Indeeſe; I heard it not, it then drawes neere the ſeafon.
Wherein the ſpirit held his wone to walke
A Florisſa of trum
What does this meane my Lord? Peters and 2. peeceſ goes off.

Ham. The King doth walke to night and takes his towle.
Keepes waſſell and the swaggring vp-spring teedes :
And as he draines his drafts of Renniſh downe,
The kettle drumme and trumpet, thus bray out
The triumph of his pledge.
Hor. Is it a cultome?
Ham. I marry it,
But to my mind, though I am native heere
And to the manner borne, it is a cultome.
More honourd in the breach, then the obſeruance.
This heavy-headed reuelle Eaſt and Weſt
Makes vs tradu'd and taxed of other Nations,
They clip vs drunkards and with ſwiniſh phraſe
Soyle our addition, and indeed it takes
From our atchieuements, though perform'd at height
The pith and marow of our attribute,
So oft it chances in particular men,
That for ſome vitious mole of nature in them
As in their birth wherein they are not guilty,
(Sine nature cannot choose his origen)
By their ore-growth of ſome complexion
Oſt breaking downe the Pales and Forts of reaſon,
Or by ſome habite that too much ore-leauens
The ſorme of plauiſue manners, that theſe men
Carrying I ſay the ſtamp of one deſeſt

D.

Being

## The Tragedy of Hamlet

Being Natures liuery, or Fortunes flaire,
His Vertues els be they as pure as grace.
As infinit as man may vndergoe,
Shall in the generall censure take corruption
From that particular fault : the dram of eafe
Doth all the noble subſtance of a doubt
To his owne ſcandall,

*Enter Ghoſt.*

Hora. Looke my Lord it comes.
Ham. Angels and Minifters of grace defend vs!
Be thou a ſpirit of health, or goblin damn'd,
Bring with thee ayres from heauen, or bnaſts from hell,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
Thou com't in ſuch a queſtionable ſhape,
That I will ſpeake to thee, Ile call thee Hamlet,
King, father, royall Dane, à anſwere mee,
Let mee not burſt in ignorancer, but tell
Why thy Canoniz'd bones heareſed in death
Haue burſt their cerements ? why the Sepulcher,
Wherein wee law thee quietly interr'd
Hath op't his ponderous and marble iawes,
To caſt thee vp againe? what may this meane
That thou dead corſe, againe in compleat ſteele
Reuſiſtes thus the glinſes of the Moone,

Making night hideous, and wee ſooles of nature
So horribly to ſnake our diſpoſition
With thoughtes beyond the reaches of our ſoules,
Say why is this, wherefore, what ſhould wee doe?

*Beekons.*

Hora. It beckons you to goe away with it
As it ſome impartment did deſire
To you alone,

Mar. Looke with what curteous action
It waues you to a more remooued ground,
But doe not goe with it.

Hora. No, by no meanes.

Ham. It will not ſpeake, then I will follow it.

Hora. Doe not my Lord.

Ham. Why? what ſhould bee the ſeare,

I doe not ſet my life at a pinnes ſee,

And

## Prince of Denmark.

And for my ſoule, what can it doe to that
Being a thing immortall as it ſelfe;
It waues me forth againe, Ile follow it.

Hora. What if it tempt you towards the flood my Lord,
Or to the dreadfull ſonnet of the cleefe
That bettels ore his bafe into the ſea,
And there affume ſome other horrible forme
Which might depriue your ſoueraignty of reaſon,
And draw you into madneſſe, thinke of it,
The very place puts toyes of deſparation
Without more motiue, into euery braine
That lookes ſo many ſadoms to the ſea
And heares it tore beneath.

Ham. It waues me ſtill,
Goe on, Ile follow th. e.

Mar. You shall not goe my Lord,
Ham, Hold of your hands.

Hora. Beru'd, you shall not goe.

Ham. My fate cries out

And makes each petty artyre in this body

As hardy as the Nemean Lyons nerue;
Still am I cald, vnhand me Gentlemen

By heauen Ile make a Ghoſt of him that lets me,
I ſay away, goe one, Ile follow thee.

*Exit Ghoſt and Hamlet.*

Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination.

Mar. Lets follow, tis not fit to obey him.

Hora. Haue after, to what illue will this come?

Mar. Something is rotten in the ſtate of Denmark.

Hora. Heauen will direct it.

Mar. Nay lets follow him.

*Exeunt,*

*Enter Ghoſt and Hamlet.*

Ham. Whether wilt thou leade me, ſpeake, Ile goe no further.

Ghoſt. Marke me.

Ham. I will.

Ghoſt. My houre is almost come

When I to sulphrous and tormenting flames

Muſt render vp my ſelfe.

Ham. Alas! ſpoore Ghoſt,

Da

Ghoſt

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Ghoſt. Pitty me not, but lend thy serious hearing to what I shall vnfold.

Ham. Speake I am bound to here,

Ghoſt. So art thou to reuenge, when thou shalt heare.

Ham. What?

Ghoſt. I am thy fathers ſpirit,

Doomd for a certaine tearme to walke the night,
And for the day confind to faſt in ſires,

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 prifon-houſe,

I could a tale vnſolde whose lighſt word

Would harrow vp thy ſoule, freeze thy young blood,

Make thy two eyes like stars ſtart from their ſpheres,

Thy knotted and combined locks to part,

And each particular haire to ſtand an end,

Like quilts vpon the ſeaſefull Porpentine:

But this eternall blazon muſt not be

To eares of ſleſh and blood, lift, lift, O lift,

If thou didst euer thy deare father loue.

Ham. O God.

Ghoſt. Reuenge his ſoule, and moſt vn naturall murther.

Ham. Murther,

Ghoſt. Murther moſt ſoule, as in the beſt it is,

But this moſt ſoule, ſtrange and vn naturall.

Ham. Haſt me to know't, that I with wings as ſwift,

As medication, or the thoughts of Loue

May swcreepe to my reuenge.

Ghoſt. I find thee apt,

And duller ſhouldest thou be then the fat weede

That rootes it ſelſe in caſe on Lethe wharſe,

Would ſt thou not ſturre in this ; now Hamlet heare,

Tis giuen out, that ſleeping in my Orchard,

A Serpent ſtung me, so the whole care of Denmarke

Is by a forged proceſſe of my death

Ranckely abufed; 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.

Prince of Denmarke.

Ghoſt. I that inſeſtuous, that adulterate beaſt,
With witchra't of his wits, with trayterous gifts,
O wicked wit, and giftes that haue the power
So to ſeduce ; wonne to his ſhamfull luſt

The will of my moſt ſeeming vertuous Queene;
O Hamlet, what falling off was there

From me whose loue was of that dignity

That it went hand in hand, euen with the vow

I made to her in marriage, and to decline

Vpon a wretch whose naturall gifts were poore,

To those of mine; but vertue as it neuer will be mooued,

Though lew dneſſe court it in a ſhape of heauen

So but though to a radiant Angle linckt.

Will ſon it ſelſe in a celeſtall bed

And pray on garbage.

But ſoſt, me thinkes I ſcent the morning ayre,

Briefe let me be ; ſleeping within my Orchard,

My cuttome always of the afternoone,

Vpon my ſecure houre, thy Vncle ſto'c

With iuyce of curſed Hebona in a viall,

And in the porches of my eares did poore,

The leaprous diſtilment, whose effect

Holds ſuch an enmity with blood of man,

That ſwift as quickſiuer it courſes through

The naturall gates and allies of the body,

And with a ſodaine vigour it doth poffeſſe

And curde like eager droppings into milke,

The thin and wholſome blood; so did it mine,

And a moſt inflant terter barkt about

Moſt Lazerlike with vile and lothſome cruſt

All my ſmooth body.

Thus was I ſleeping by a brothers hand,

Of life, of Crowne, of Queene at once diſpatcht,

Cut off euen in the bliſomes of my ſinne,

Vnnuzled, diſappointed, vn-anu'eld,

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,

D 3

Let

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Let not the royall bed of Denmarke be
A couch for luxury and damaed incest.
But how fomeuer thou purfues this act,
Tain't not thy minde,nor let thy soule contriue
Against thy mother ought,leaue her to heauen,
And to thofe thornes that in her bofome lodge
To pricke and fling her:fate thee well at once,
The Gloworme fliewes 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 earthlwhat eſſe,
And ſhall I coupple hell,O fielhold,my heart,
And you my finnowes;grow not inſtant old,
But beare me wſtily vp;remember thee,
I thou poore Ghoſt whiles memory holds a ſeate
In this diſtraſted globe,remember thee,
Yea,from the table of my memory
Ile wipe away all triuiall fond records,
All ſawe of bookes,all ſormes,all preſſures paſt
That youth and obſeruation coppied there,
And thy commandement all alone ſhall lioue,
Within the booke and volume of my braine
Vnmixt with baſer matter,yes by heauen
O moſt prenicious woman,
O villaine,villaine, ſmiling damned villaine,
My tables,meet it is I fet it downe
That one may ſinile,and ſmile,and be a villaine,
At leaſt I am ſure it may be ſo in Denmarke.
So Vncle,there you are,now to my word.
It is adew,adew,remember me.
I haue ſworn't.

Enter Horatio,and Marcellus.

Hora. My Lord,my Lord.
Mar. Lord Hamlet.
Hora. Heauens ſecure him.
Ham. So be it.
Mar. Illo,ho,ho,my Lord.
Ham. Hillo,ho,ho,boy come,and come,

Prince of Denmarke.

Mar. How 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 hart of man once thinke it,
But you'le be ſecret.
Both. I by heauen.
Ham. There's neuer a villaine,
Dwelling in all Denmatke
But hee's an arrant knaue.
Hora. There needs no Ghoſt my Lord,come from the graue
To tell vs this.

Ham. Why right,you are in the right,
And ſo without more circumſtance at all,
I hold it fit that we ſhake hands and part,
You,as your buſineſſe and deſire ſhall point you,
For euery man hath buſineſſe and deſire
Such as it is,and for my owne poore part
I will goe pray.
Hora. There are but wilde and whurling words my Lord
Ham. I am ſory they offenſ you heartily,
Yes faith heartily.
Hora. There's no offenſe my Lord.
Ham. Yes by Saint Patrick but there is Horatia,
And much offenſe 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-maſſer't as you may,and now good friends,
As you are friends,Schollers,and ſouldiers,
Give me one poore request.

Hora. What iſt my Lord,we will,
Ham. Neuer make knowne what you haue ſeene to night.
Both. My Lord we will not.
Ham. Nay but ſwear't.
Hora. In faith my Lord not I.
Mar. Nor I my Lord in faith.

Ham.

Mar.

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Ham. Vppon my fword.

Mar. Wee haue fworne my Lord already.

Ham. Indeed vppon my fword, indeed.

Ghoſt cryes vnder the Stage,

Ghoſt. Sweare.

Ham. Ha, ha, boy, say it thou so, art thou there true penny ?

Come on, you heare this fellow in the Sellerige,

Conſent to ſweare.

Hor. Propoſe the oath my Lord.

Ham. Neuer to ſpeake of this that you haue ſeene,

Sweare by my ſword.

Ghoſt. Sweare,

Ham. hie, & vbique, then weele ſhift our ground :

Come hether Gentlemen

And lay your hands againe vpon my ſword,

Sweare by my ſword

Neuer to ſpeake of this that you haue heard.

Ghoſt. Sweare by his ſword.

Ham. Well ſaid old Mole, canſt worke it h' earth ſo ſaſt,

A worthy Pioner once more remoue good friends.

Hor. 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 hereeafter ſhall thinke mee,

To put an Antike diſpoſition on

That you at ſuch times feeing mee, neuer ſhall

With armes incombred thus, or this head ſhake,

Or by pronouncing of ſome doubtfull phraſe,

As, well, well wee know, or wee could and if wee would,

Or if wee lift to ſpeake, or there be and if they might,

Or ſuch ambiguous giuing out, to note)

That you knowe ought of mee, this do ſweare,

So grace and mercy at your moſt neede helpe you.

Ghoſt. Sweare.

Ham. Reſt, reſt perturbed ſpirit : ſo Gentlemen,

With all my loue I doe commend me to you,

And

Prince of Denmark.

And what ſo poore a man as Hamlet is,

May doe t'expresse his loue and frending to you

God willing ſhall not lacke:let vs goe in together,

And ſtill your fingers on your lips I pray,

The time is out of ioynt, O curled 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 Reynalde.

Rey. I will my Lord.

Pol. You ſhall doe maruelous wifely good Reynaldo,

Before you viſite him, to make inqure,

Of his behauiour.

Rey. My Lerd, I did intend it.

Pol. Mary well ſaid, very well ſaid, looke you ſir,

Enquire me ſiſt what Danskers are in Paris.

And how, and who, what meaneſ, and where they keepe,

What company, at what expence, and finding,

By this encompaſſment, and drift of queſtion

That they doe know my ſonne, come you more neerer

Then your perticuler demaunds will tuch it,

Take you as t were ſome diſtant knowledge of him,

As thus, I know his father, and his friends,

And in part him, doe you marke this Reynaldo?

Rey. I, very well my Lord.

Pol. And in part him, but you may ſay, not well,

But y ſt be he I meane, hee's very wilde,

Addiſted ſo and ſo, and there put on him

What forgeries you pleafe, marry none ſo ranck

As may diſhonour him, take heed of that,

But fir, 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, ſencing, ſwearing,

Quatrelling, drabbing, you may goe ſo farre.

Rey. My Lord, that would diſhonour him,

Pol. Fayth as you may feason it in the charge.

E

You

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

You must not put another scoundall on him,
That he is open to incontinency,
That's not my meaning, but breath his faults so quently
That they may seeme the taints of liberty,
The flash and out-breake of a fiery mind,
A Sauagenes in vnreclaimed blood,
Of generall assault.

Rey. But my good Lord.

Pol. Wherefor should you doe this?

Rey. I my Lord, I would know that.

Pol. Marry, fir, heer's my drift,

And I believe it is a fetch of wit,

You laying the flight fullies on my fonne

As I were a thing a little soyld with working,

Marke you, your party in conuerſe, him you would found

Hauing euer ſene in the prenominat crimes

The youth you breath of guilty, be affur'd

He cloſes with you in this coſequence,

Good fir, (or ſo,) or friend, or Gentleman,

According to the phrase, or the addition

Of man and country.

Rey. Very good my Lord.

Pol. And then fir doos a this, a doos: what was I about to ſay?

By the maffe I was about to ſay ſomething,

Where did I leave?

Rey. At cloſes in the conſequence.

Pol. At cloſes in the conſequence, I marry,

He cloſes thus, I know the Gentleman

I saw him yesterday, or th' other day.

Or then, or then, with ſuch or ſuch, and as you ſay,

There was a gaming there, or tooke in's rowſe,

There falling out at Tennis, or perchance

I saw him enter ſuch or ſuch a house of ſale,

Videſizet, abrothell, or ſo ſoorth, ſee you now,

Your bait of ſalfhood: take this carpe of truth,

And thus doe we of wifdome, and of reach,

With windleſſes; and with affaies of bias,

By indirects find directions out,

So by my former lecture and advice

Shall

## Prince of Denmark.

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. Obferue his inclination in your ſelfe.

Rey. I ſhall my Lord,

Pol. And let him ply his muſique.

Rey. Well my Lord.

Exit Rey.

## Enter Ophelia.

Polo. Farwell. How now Op'elia, what's the matter?

Ophe. O my Lord, my Lord, I haue beene so affrighted,

Polo. With what i'th name of God?

Ophe. My Lord, as I was fowing in my cloſet,
Lord Hamlet with his doublet all vnbrac'd,

No hat vpon his head his ſtockins ſouled,

Vngartred, and downe gyred to his ankle,

Pate as his ſhirt, his knees knocking each other,

And with a looke so pittious in purport

As if he had beene loofed out of hell

To ſpeak of horrors, he comes before me.

Polo. Mad for thy loue?

Ophe. My Lord I do not know,

But truly I doe ſeare it.

Polo. What faid he?

Ophe. He tooke me by the wrift, and held me hard,
Then goes he to the length of all his arme,

And with his other hand thus ore his brow,

He falls to ſuch peruall of my face

As a would draw it; long ſtayd he ſo,

At laſt, a little ſhaking of mine arme,

And thrice his head thus wauing vp and downe,

He raiſed a ſigh ſo pittious and profound,

As it did ſeeme to ſhatter all his bulke,

And end his being; that done, he lets me go,

And with his head ouer his shoulders turn'd

He ſeem'd to find his way without his eyes,

For out a doores he went without their helps,

And to the laſt bended their light on me.

E 3

Polo,

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Po!. Come, goe with me, I will goe seeke the King,
This is the very extacy of loue,

Whose violent property forgoes it selfe,
And leads the will to desperat vndertakings

As oft as any passions vnder heauen

That does affl.ct our natures: I am forry,

What, haue you giuen him any hard words of late?

Ophe. No my good Lord, but as you did commaund
I did repell his letters: and denied

His accesse to me.

Pol. That hath made him mad.

I am forry, that with better heede and iudgement

I had not coted him, I fear'd he did but trifle

And meant to wracke thee, but beſhrow my Ielouſe:

By heauen it is as proper to our age

To caſt beyond our ſelues in our opinions,

As it is common for the younger ſon

To lacke diſcretion; come, goe we to the King,

This muſt be knowne, which beeing kept cloſe, might moue

More griefe to hide, then hate to vter loue,

Come.

Exeunt.

Florish.

Enter King and Queene, Rosencraus and Guyldensterne.

KING. Welcome deere Rosencraus and Guyldenſterne,
Moreover, that we much did long to ſee you,

The heede we haue to vſe you did prouoke

Our haſty ſending, ſomething haue you heard

Of Haulets transformation, so call it,

Sith nor the exterior, nor the inward man

Reſembles that it was, what it should be,

More then his fathers death, that thus hath put him,

So much from the vnderſtanding of himſelfe

I cannot dreame of: I entreat you both,

That beeing of ſo young daies brought vp with him,

And ſith ſo neigbored to his youth and hau

That you voutlafe your reſt heere in our Court

Some little time, ſo by your companies

To draw him on to pleaſures, and to gather

So

Prince of Denmark.

So much as from occasion you may gleane,
Whether ought to vs vnkowne afflicts him thus,
That opend lies within our remedy.

Quee. Good gentlemen, he hath much talkt of you,
And ſure I am, two men there are not liuing,

To whome he more adheres, if it will pleafe you

To ſhow 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 receive ſuch thanks

As fits a Kings remembrance,

Ref. Both your Maiſies

Might by the ſoueraigne power you haue of vs,

Put your dread pleaſures more into commaund

Then to iotreaty.

Guyl. But we both obey,

And here give vp our ſelues in the full bent,

To lay our ſeruice freely at your ſeete

KING. Thankes Rosencraus, and gentle Guyldenſterne,

Quee. Thankes Guyldenſterne, and gentle Rosencraus.

And I beſeech you inſantly to viſite

My too much changed ſonne: goe some of you

And bring theſe gentlemen where Hamlet is.

Guyl. Heauens make our p[re]ſence and our practices
Pleasant and helpfull to him.

Quee. I Amen.

Enter Polonius.

Exeunt. Ros and Guyd.

Pol. Th'embafflador's from Norway my good Lord,
Are joyfully returned.

Kings. Thou full haſt beene the father of good newes.

Pol. Haue I my Lord? I aſſure my good Liege
I hold my duty as I hold my ſoule.

Both to my God, and to my gracious Kings

And I doe thinke, or eſſe this braine of mine

Hunts not the trayle of policie ſo ſure

As it hath vſd to doe, that I haue found

The very cauſe of Haulets lunacy,

King. O ſpeake of that, that do I long to heate.

E 3

Pol.

## The Tragedy of Hamlet

Polo, Giue firft admittance to th'embaffadors,
My newes shall be the frute to that great feaſt,
King. Thy ſelte doe grace to them, and bring them in,
He tells me my decree: Gertrud he hath found
The head and source of all your fonnes diſtemper.
Quee. I doubt it is no other but the maine,
His fathers death, and our haſty marriage.

### Enter Embaffadors.

King. Well, we shall lift him, welcome my good friends,
Say Voltemand, what from our brother Norway?

Volte. Moſt faire returne of greetings and defires;
Vpon our firſt, he ſent out to ſuppreſſe

His Nephews leuies, which to him appeard
To be a preparation gainſt the Pollacke,
But better lookt into, he truly found

It was againſt your highneſſe, whereat greeu'd
That ſo his ſickneſſe, age, and impotence

Was falſely borne in hand, ſends out arreſts
On Fortenbraſſe, which he in breeſe obeys,
Receiues rebuke from Norway, and in fine,
Makes vow before his Vncle, neuer more

To giue th'affay of Armes againſt your Maiefy:

Whereon old Norway ouercome with ioy,
Giués him threescore thouſand crownes in anuall fee,
And his commiſſion to iſploy thofe ſouldiers,
So leuied (as before) againſt the Pollacke,
With an entreaty herein further ſhone,

That it might pleafe you to giue quiet paffe
Through your dominions for this enterprife

On ſuch regards of safety and allowance
As therein are ſet downe.

King. It likes vs well,

And at our more considered time, wee'le read,
Anſwer, and thinke vpon this buſines:

Meane time, we thanke you for your well tooke labour,
Goe to your reſt, at night weele ſeaſt together,

Moſt welcome home,

Exeunt Embaffadors.

Pol. This buſines is well ended,

My

## Prince of Denmark.

My Liege and Maddam, to expofulate
What maiefly ſhould be, what duety is,
Why day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waſt night, day, and time,
Therefore breuity is the ſoule of wit,
And tediouſnes the limmes and outward florifhes:
I will be breeſe your noble ſonne is mad :
Mad call it, for to define true madnes,
What it but to be nothing eſſe but mad?
But let that goe.

Quee. More matter with leſſe art.

Pol. Maddam, I ſware I vſe no art at all,
That hee's mad tis true, tis true, tis pitty,
And pitty tis, tis true, a fooliſh figure,
But farewell it, for I will vſe no art,
Mad let vs grant him then, and now remaines
That wee find out the cauſe of this effect,
Or rather ſay the cauſe of this defect
For this effect defective comes by cauſe :
Thus it remaines and the remainder thus
Perpend,

I haue a daughter, haue while ſhe is mine,

Who in her duety and obedience, marke,

Hath giuen me this, now gather and furmiſe,

To the Celestiall and my ſoules Idol, the moſt beauti-
tified Ophelia, that's an ill phrase, a vilen phrase,
beautified is a vilen phrase, but you ſhould have: thus
in her excellent white bosome, these &c.

Quee. Camet his from Hamlet to her?

Pol. Good Maddam stay awhile, I will be faithfull,
Doubt thou the ſtavres are fire,
Doubt that the Sunne doth moone,
Doubt truth to be a lyer,
But neuer doubt I loue.

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

Pol. This in obedience hath my daughter ſhown me, (Hamlet.
And more about hath his Solicitations

As

The Tragedy of Hamlet

As they fell out by time, by means, and place,
All given to mine eare.

King. But how hath she recei'd his loue?

Pol. What doe you thinke of me?

King. As of a man faithfull and honorable.

Pol. I would faine proue so, but what might you thinke
When I had seene this hot loue on the wing?

As I perceiued it (I must tell you that)

Before my Daughter told me, what might you,
Or my deare Majestät 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 fight,
What might you thinke ? no, I went round to worke,
And my yong Mistriffe this I did beſpeake,
Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy Starre,

This must not bee: and then I prescripta gaue her
That she should locke her ſelfe from his r. fort,
Admit no meſſengers, receiue no tokens.

Which done she tooke the fruits of my aduise,
And hee repel d. a ſhort tale to make,

Fell into a fadnes, then into a faſt,
Thence to a watch, thence into a weakeneſſe,
Thence to lightnes, and by this declension,
Into the midsnes wherein now hee raues,
And all wee mourne for.

King. Doe you thinke this ?

Quee. It may bee very like.

Pol. Hath there beene ſuch a time, I would faine know that,
That I haue politiually ſaid, tis so,

When it prou'd otherwife?

King. Not that I know.

Pol. Take this, from this, if this be otherwife;
If circumftances lead mee, I will find
Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeede

Within the Center.

King. How may wee try it further ?

Pol. You know sometimes hee walkes ſoure houres together
Heere in the Lobby.

Quee.

Prince of Denmark.

Quee. Soe he does indeede.

Pol. At ſuch a time; ile loose my daughter to him,
Be you and I behind an Arras then,

Matke the encounter, if he loue her not,
And bee not from his reaſon falne thereon
Let me be no aſſiſtant for a ſtate
But keepe a farme and carters.

King. Wee will trye it.

Enter Hamlet.

Quee. But looke where fadly the poore wretch comes reading

Pol. Away, I doe beſeech you both away. Exit King and Quee.
Ile bord him prefently oh glue 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 Fifehmonger,

Pol. Not I my Lord.

Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man.

Pol. Honeſt my Lord.

Ham. I fir to be honest as this world goes,
Is to be one man pickt out of tenne thouand,

Pol. That's very true my Lord.

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

Pol. I haue my Lord.

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

Pol. How ſay you by that, ſtill harping on my daughter, yet he
knew me not at firſt, a ſayd I was a Fifehmonger, a ſarre gone,
and truely in my youth, I ſuſſred much extremitie for loue, very
neere this. Ile beake to him againe. What doe you read my
Lord.

Ham. Words, words, words.

Pol. What is the matter my Lord,

Ham. Betweene who.

Pol. I meane the matter that you read my Lord.

Ham. I ſanders firſt; for the ſatericall rogue faies here, that old
men haue gray beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes
purging thick Amber, & plum tree gum, & that they haue a plen-
tiſſul

F

## The Tragedy of Hamlet

tiful lacke of wit, together with moft weake hams, all which fir though I moft powerfully and potently belieue, yet I hold it not honefly to haue it thus fet downe, for your felle fir fhall grow old as I am; if like a Crab you could goe backward.

Pol. Though this be madneffe, yet there is method in't, wil you walke out of the ayre my Lord?

Ham. Into my graue.

Polo. Indeede that's out of the ayre; how pregnant sometimes his replies are, a happens that often madnes hits on, which reafon and fanfity could not so profesperously be deliuered of. I will leaue him and my daughter. My Lord, I will take my leaue of you.

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

Enter Guildersterne, and Rofoncrans.

Polo, Fare you well my Lord.

Ham. These tedious old fooles.

Polo, You goe to seeke the Lord Hamlet, there he is.

Rof. God faue you fir.

Guyl, My honor'd Lord.

Rof. My moft deere Lord.

Ham. My exelent good friends, how doft thou Guildersterne?

A Rofoncrans, good lads how doe you both?

Rof. 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 flooe.

Rof. Neither my Lord.

Ham. Then you lie about her waft, or in the middle of her fa

Guyl, Faith her priuates we.

(uors.)

Ha. In the secret parts of fortune, oh moft true, she is a flumper What newes?

Rof. 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 friendfhip, what make you at Elfonsoure?

Rof. To vifit you my Lord, no other occafion.

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

Guy. What ſhould we ſay my Lord?

Ham.

## Prince of Denmark.

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

Rof. To what end my Lord?

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

Rof. What ſay you ?

Ham. Nay then I haue an eye of you, if you loue me hold not off.

Guyl. My Lord wee were ſent for.

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

Rof. My Lord there was no ſuch ſtuffe in my thoughts.

Ham. Why did yee laugh then, when I faid man'delights not me.

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

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

Rof. Euen thoſe you were wont to take ſuch delight in, the Trage- dians of the Citty.

F2

Ham.

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

Ham. How chances it the trauaile? their residence both in reputation and profit was better both wayes.

Ros. I thinke their inhibition, comes by the meanes of the late innouation.

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

Ros. No indeede are they not,

Ham. It is not very strange, for my Uncle is King of Denmark & thofe that would make mouths at him while my father liued, giue twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred duckets a peeece, for his Picture in little: s'bloud there is something in this more then naturall, if Philosophy could find it out.

A Florish.

Guyl. There are the players

Ham. Gentlemen you are welcome to Elfonoure, your hands, come then the apportenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony; let mee comply with you in this garb: let my extent to the players, which I tell you must showe feyrely outwards, should more appeare like entertainment then yours? you are welcome: but my Uncle-father, and Aunt-mother, are deceaued.

Guyl. In what my deare Lord.

Ham. I am but mad North North weft; when the wind is Southerly, I know a Hauke, from a hand-law.

### Enter Polonius.

Pol. Well be with you Gentlemen.

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

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

Ham. I will prophecy that he comes to tell me of the players; marke it, you say right fir a Monday morning it was then indeed.

Pol. My Lord I haue newes to tell you.

Ham. My Lord I haue newes to tell you: when Roffius was an Actor in Rome.

Pol. The Actors are come hether my Lord.

Ham. Buz, buz,

Pol. Vppon my honor.

Ham. Then came each Actor on his Affe.

Pol. The best Actors in the world, either for Tragedy, Comedy, History, Pastorall, Pastorall-Comical, Historical-Pastorall, seeme indeuidable.

## Prince of Denmark.

Indeuidable, or Poem unlimited. Seneca cannot bee too heavy, nor Plautus too light for the lawe of writ, and the liberty: these are the onely men.

Ham. O Ieptha Iudge of Ifraell, what a treasure hadst thou?

Pol. What a treasure had he my Lord?

Ham. Why one faire daughter and no more, the which he loosed paffing well.

Pol. Still on my daughter.

Ham. Am I not this right old Ieptha?

Pol. What followes then my Lord?

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

### Enter the Players.

Ham. You are welcome maifters, 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't thou to beard me in Denmark? what my young lady and Miftris, by lady your ladshippe is nerer to heauen, then when I saw you laſt by the altitude of a chopine, pray God your voyce like a peeece of vncurrent gold, bee not crackt within the ring: maifters you are all welcome, weele ento't like friendly Faukners, flie at any thing we fee, weele haue a ſpeech ſtraite, come giue vs a taſte of your quality, come a paffionate ſpeech.

Player. What ſpeech my good lord?

Ham. I heard thee ſpeake me a ſpeech once, but it was neuer acted, or if it was, not aboue once, for the play I remember, plean'd not the million, it was cauialy to the general, but it was as I received it & others, whose judgments in ſuch matters cried in the top of mine, an excellent play, well digeſed in the ſcenes, ſet downe with as much modeſty as cunning. I remember one ſayd there were no ſallets in the lines, to make the matter ſaury, nor no matter in the phraſe that might indite the author of affection, but cald it an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, & by very much more handsome then fine: one ſpeech in't I chiefly loued, it was Aneas talke to Dido, & there about of it especially when he ſpeakes of Priams ſlaughter, if it lie in your memory begin at this line, let me fee, let me fee, the rugged Pyrbus like Th' icaanian

beaſt,

F 3

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Beast, it is not it begins with Pirrhus. The rugged Pirrhus, hee
whose fable arms,

Blacker as his purpose did the night resemble,
When hee lay couched in th'ominous horse,

Hath now this dread and black completion fmeard,
W'th heraldy more disfavour'd head to foote,

Now is hee totall Gules, horridly trickt

With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, fonnes,

Bak'd and embaffled with the parching firetes

Than lend a tirranous and a damned light

To their Lords murther, rofted in wrath and fire,

And thus ore-cised with coagulate gore,

With eyes like Carbuncles, the hellish Pirrhus

Old grandfire Priam seekes; so proceed you.

Pol. Foregod my Lord well spoken, with good accent and
Play. Anon he finds him (good discretion.

Striking too short at Greekes, his anticke sword

Rebellious to his armes, lies where it fals,

Repugnant to command; vnequall matche,
Pirrhus at Priam driues, in rage strikes wide,

But with the whiffe and wind of his fell sword,

Th'vinnerued father falls:

Seeming to feele this blow, with flaming top

Stooopes to his bafe; and with a hiddious craft

Takes prisone Pirrhus care, for lo his sword

Which was declining on the milkie head

Of reuerent Priam, seem'd i'th ayre to stick,

So as a painted tirant Pirrhus food

Like a newtrall to his will and matter,

Did nothing:

But as wee often see againſt some ſtorme,

A ſilence in the heauens, the racke stand full,

The bould winds ſpeechleſſe, and the orbe belowe

As huff as death, anone the dread full thunder

Doth rend the region, ſo after pirrhus paufe,

A rowſed vengeance fers him new a worke,

And neuer did the Cyclops hammers fall,

On Marſes Armor forg'd for proofe eterne,

With leſſe remorſe then Pirrhus bleeding ſword

Now falls on Priam.

Out

Prince of Denmark.

Out, out, thou trumpert Fortune all your gods,

In generall finod take away her power,

Breake all the spokes, and folles from her wheel,

And boule the round naue downe the hills of heauen

As lowe as to the fiends.

Polo. This is too long.

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

Play. But who, a woe, had ſene the mobled Queene,

Ham. The mobled Queene.

Polo, That's good.

Play. Runne barefoote vp and downe, threatening the flames

With Bifon rhume, a clout vpon that head

Where late the Diadem ftood, and for a robe,

About her lanck and all ore-teamed loynes,

A blanket in the alarme of ſeare caught vp.

Who this had ſene, with tongue in venom ſteep,

Gainst fortunes ſtate would treason haue pronounc'd;

But if the gods them ſlues did ſee her then,

When the law Pirrhus make malicious ſport

In mincing with his ſword her husbands limmes,

The inſtant burſt of clamor that he made,

Vuleſſe things mortall mooue them not at all,

Would haue made milch the burning eyes of heauen

And paffion 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 ſpeak out the rest of this ſoon,
good my Lord, will you fee the players well beſtowed; doe you
heare, let them be well vled, for they are the abſtract and brieſe
Chronicles of the time; after your death you were better haue a
bad Epitaph then their ill report while you lie.

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

Ham. Gods bodkin man, much better, vſe every man after his
defert, and who shall ſcape whipping, vſe them after your owne
honour and dignity, the leſſe they deferue the more merit is
in your bounty. Take them in.

Pol. Come first.

Ha. Follow him friends, weele here a play to morrow; deſt thou
here

The Tragedy of Hamlet

heare me old friend, can you play the murtherer of Gonzago?

Play, I my Lord.

Ham. Weele hau't to morrow night, you could for need study
a speech of some dofen lines, or fixteene lines, which I would fet
downe and infert 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 Eſonour.
Exenent Pol. and Players,

Ref. Good my Lord.

Ham. I, so, God buy to you, now I am alone,
O what a rogue and pefant flaue an I!

Is it not monſtrous that this player heere
But in a fixion, in a dreame of paffion

Could force his foule ſo to his owne conceit
That from her working all the viſage wand,

Teares in his eyes, diſtraCTION in his aspect,
A broken voyce, and his whole function ſuting

With formes to his conceit; and all for nothing,
For Hecuba.

What's Hecuba to him, or he to her,
That he should weepe for her? what would he doe

Had he the motiue, and that for paffion

That I haue? he would drowne the ſtage with teares,
And cleaue the generall care with horrid ſpeech,

Make mad the guilty, and appeale the free,
Conſound the iſnorant, and amaze indeed,

The very faculties of eyes and eares; yet I,
A dull and muddy mettled raskall peake,

Like John-a-dreames, vnpregnant of my cauſe,

And can ſay nothing; no not for a King,

Vpon whole property and moſt deare life,

A damn'd ſdefeate was made: am I a coward,

Who calls me villaine, breaks my pate a croſſe,

Pluckes off my beard, and blowes it in my face,

Twekes me by the nose, giues me the lie i' th 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

To

Prince of Denmark.

To make oppreſſion bitter, or ere this

I should haue faſſed all the region kytes

With this ſlaues off all, bloody, baudy villaine,

Remorſeleſſe, treacherous, letcherous, kindleſſe villaine.

Why what an Aſſe am I? this is moſt braue,

That I the ſonne of a decre father murthered,

Prompted to my reuenge by heauen and hell,

Muſt like a whole vnpack my heart with words,

And fall a cursing like a very drabbe; a ſtallion, ſie vppont, ſoh.

About my braines, hum, I haue heard,

That guilty creatures fitting at a play,

Haue by the very cunning of the ſcene,

Beene fitrooke ſo to the ſoule, that pretently

They haue proclaim'd their maleſtactions:

Formurther though it haue no tongue will ſpeake

With moſt miraculous organ. Ile haue theſe Players

Play ſomthing like the murther of my father

Before mine Vncle, Ile obſerue his lookes,

Ile tent him to the quicke, if a doblench

I know my course. The ſpirit that I haue ſcene

May be a diuell, and the diuell hath power

T'asſume a pleafing ſhape; yea and perhaps,

Out of my weakenſſe and my melancholly,

As hee is very potent with ſuch ſpirits,

Abufes mee to damme mee; Ile haue grounds

More relatiue then this, the play's the thing

Wherein Ile catch the confiſcience of the King.

Exit.

Enter King, Quene, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofencraus, Guyl-
denſterne, Lords

King. And can you by no drift of conference

Get from him why hee puts on this conſuſion,

Grating ſo hardly all his dayes of quiet

With turbulent and dangerous lunacie?

Ref. He dooes confefſe he feeles himſelfe diſtraſted,

But from what cauſe a will by no meanes ſpeake.

Guyl. Nor do wee find him forward to be ſounded,

But with a crafty madnes keepes aloofe

When we would bring him on to ſome conſession

G.

O

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Of his true state.

Quee, Did he receive you well?

Ros. Moft 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 affay him to any paſtime?

Ros. Maddam, it ſo fell out that certaine Players

We ore-raught on the way, of these we told him,
And there did ſeeme in him a kind of joy

To heare of it : they are heere about the Court,
And as I thinke, they haue already order

This night to play before him.

Pol. Tis moſt true,

And he beſeecht me to intreat your Maieſties
To heare and ſee the matter.

King. With all my heart,
And it doth much content me

To heare him so inclin'd.

Good gentlemen giue him a further edge

And drue 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 it were by accedent, may heere

Affront Ophelia; her father and my ſelfe,

Wee le so beſtow out ſelues, that ſeeing vnſeene,

We may of their encounter franckely iudge,

And gather by him as he is behau'd,
Iſt be th' affliction of his loue or no

That thus he suffers for.

Quee. I ſhall obey you.

And for my part Ophelia, I do wifh

That your good beauties be the happy caufe

Of Hamlets wildnes, so ſhall I hope your vertues

Will bring him to his wonted way againe,
To both your honours,

Ophe. Maddam, I wifh it may.

Pol. Ophelia walke you heere; gracious so please you,

We

Prince of Denmark.

We will beſtow our ſelues; reade on this booke,

That ſhow of ſuch an exercise may collour

Your lowlineſſe; we are oft too blame in this,

Tis too much proou'd, that with deuotions viſage

And pious action, we doe ſugar ore

The Diuell himſelfe.

King, O tis too true,

How ſmart a laſh that ſpeech doth giue my confidence

The harlots cheeke beautied with plaſtring art,

Is not more oughly to the thing that helps it,

Then is my deede to my moſt painted word:

O heavy burthen:

Enter Hamlet,

Pol. I heare him comming, with-draw my Lord.

Ham. To be, or not to be, that is the queſtion,

Whether tis nobler in the minde to ſuffer

The flings and arrowes of outrageous 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 ſleſh is heire to; tis a confuſation

Deuoutly to be wifh to die to ſleepe,

To ſleepe, perchance to dreame; I there's the rub,

For in that ſleepe of death what dreames may come?

When we haue shuffled off this mortall coyle

Muſt giue vs paſſe, there's the reſpect

That makes calamity of ſo long life:

For who would beare the whips and ſcornes of time,

Th' oppreſſors wrong, the proude mans contumely,

The pangs of office, and the lawes delay,

The infolence of office, and the ſpurnes

That patient merrit of the vnworthy takes,

When himſelfe might his quietas make

With a bare bodkin; who would fardels beare,

To grunt and sweat vnder a weary life?

But that the dread of something after death,

The vndifcouer'd country, from whose borne

G 2

No

The Tragedy of Hamlet

No krauailer returnes,puzzels the will,
And makes vs rather beare those ills we haue,
Then flie to others that wee know not of.
Thus conscience dooes make cowards,
And thus the native hiew of resolution
Is fickledd ore with the pale caft of thought.
And enterprifes of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their currents turne awry,
And loofe the name of action. Soft you now,
The faire Ophelia, Nimph in thy orisons.
Be all my finnes remembred.

Ophe. Good my Lord,
How dooes your honour for this many a day?

Ham. I humbly thank you, well.

Ophe, My Lord, I haue remembrances of yours
That I haue longed long to re-deliver,
I pray you now receive them.

Ham. No, not I, Ineuer gave 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 loft,
Take theſe againe, for to the noble mind
Rich gifts wax poore when giuers prooue vnkind,

There my Lord.

Ham. Ha,ha, are you honest.

Oph. My Lord.

Ham. Are you faire?

Ophe. What meanes your Lordship?

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

Oph. Could beauty my Lord haue better commerce
Then with honefty?

Ham. I truely, for the power of beauty will sooner transſorme honefty from what it is to a baude, then the force of honefty can transſtate beauty into his likenſe, this was sometime a paradox, but now the time giues it proſe, I did loue you once,

Oph. Indeed my Lord you made me beleuee so.

Ham. You should not haue beleeu'd me, for vertue cannot ſo
euacuat our old stock, but we ſhall reliſh of it: I loved you not.

Ophe,

Prince of Denmark.

Ophe. I was the more deceiued.

Ham. Get thee a Nunry: why would it thou be a breeder of finners? I am my ſelfe indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse mee of ſuch things, that it were better my Mother had not borne mee: I am very proude, reuenge full, ambitious, with more effences at my becke, then I haue thoughts to put them in, imaginatió to giue them ſhape, or time to act them in: what should ſuch fellowes as I do crauling betweene earth and heauene we are atrant knaues, beleeue none of vs, go thy ways to a Nunry, Where's your father?

Ophe. At home my Lord.

Ham. Let the doers be ſhut vpon him,
That he may play the foole no where but in's owne houſe,
Farewell.

Ophe. O helpe him you sweet heauens.

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

Ophe. Heauenly powers reſtore him.

Ham. I haue heard of your paintings well enough, God hath giuen you one face, and you make your ſelues another, you gig and amble, and you lift you nickname Gods creaturſ, and make your wantonnes ignorance; goe to, Ile no more on't, it hath made me madde, I ſay we will haue no mo marriage, thofe that are married already, all but one ſhal liue, the reſt ſhall keep as they are: to a Nunry go. Exit,

Ophe. O what a noble mind is heere othroune!
The courtiers, ſouldiers, ſchollers, eye, tongue, ſword,
Th'expectation, and Roſe of the faire ſtate,
The glaſſe of ſashion, and the mould of ſorme,
Th'obferu'd of all obferuers, quite, quite downe,
And I of Ladies moſt deieet and wretched,
That fuckt the huny of his muſiſt vowes;
Now ſee what noble and moſt ſoueraigne reaſon
Like ſweet bells iangled out of time, and harſh,
That vnmatcht ſorme, and ſtature of blowne youth
Blaſted with extacy. O wo is me
Th'haue ſeene what I haue ſeene, ſee what I ſee.

Exit.

Enter

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Enter King and Polonius.

King. Loue: his affections doe not that way tend,
Nor what he speake, though it lacke some forme a little,
Was not like madnes; there's something in his soule
Ore which his melancholy fits on brood,
And I doe doubt, the hatch and the difcloſe
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 objects, ſhall expell
This something feted matter in his hart,
Whereon his braines still beating
Puts him thus from fashion of himselfe.

What thinke you on't?

Pol. It shall do well.

But yet doe I believe the origin and comencement of it
Sprung from neglected loue: how now OpHELIA?
You neede not tell vs what Lord Hamlet ſaid,
We heard it all; my Lord, doe as you pleafe,
But if you hold it fit, after the play.
Let his Queene-mother all alone intreate him
To ſhow his griefe, let her be round with him,
And Ile be plac'd (so please you) in the ear
Of all their conference: if he find him not,
To England ſend him: or confine him where
Your wifedome beſt shall thinke.

King. It shall be so,
Madnes in great ones muſt not vanmatch goe.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, and three of the Players.

Ham. ſpeaketh the ſpeech I pray you as I prouoide it to you, trippingly on the tongue, but if you mouth it as many of our Players do, I had as lue the towne cryer ſpoke my lines, nor doe not ſaw the aire too much with your hand thus, but vſe all gently, for in the very torrent tempeſt, and as I may ſay, whirlwind of your paſſion, you muſt acquire and beget a temperance, that may giue it ſmoothneſſe, O it offends me to the ſoule, to heare a robustious periwig-pated fellow tere

Prince of Denmark.

tere a paſſion to totters, to very rags, to ſpleet the eares of the ground
lings, who for the moſt part are capable of nothing but inexplicable
dumbe ſhewes, and noyſe; I would haue such a fellow whipt for ore-
dooing Termagant, it out Herods Herod, pray you auoyd it.

Play. I warrant your honour.

Ham. Be not too tame neither, but let your own eſſeretion bee
your tutor, ſute the action to the word, the word to the action, with
this ſpeciall obſeruance, that your ore-steppe not the modety of na-
ture : For anything ſo ore-dooone, is from the purpose of playing,
whose end both at the firſt, and now, was and is, to hold as twere
the Mirrour vp to nature, to ſhow vertue her feature; Icorne her own
Image, and the very age and body of the time his forme and preſſurer.
Now this ouer-done, or come trady off, though it makes the vnskil-
full laugh, cannot but make the iudicious Greene, the cenſure of
which one, muſt in your allowance ore-weigh a whole Theater of o-
thers. O there bee Players that I haue ſene play, and heard others
prayſd, and that highly, not to ſpeak it prehancely, that neither ha-
uing the accent of Chriſtians, nor the gate of Chriſtian, Pagan, nor
man, haue ſo flrutted and bellowed, that I haue thought some of Na-
tures Journemen had made men, and not made them well, they imita-
ted humanity ſo abominably.

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

Ha. O reſorme it altogether, and let that ſo that play your clownes
ſpeake no more then is ſet downe for them, for there be of them that
will themſelues laugh, to ſet on ſome quantity of barraine ſpectators
to laugh to, though in the meane time, ſome neceſſary queſtion of
the play be then to be considered, that's villanous, and ſhewes a moſt
pittifull ambition in the fool that ſes it; goe make you ready. How
now my Lord, will the King heare this peecce of worke?

Enter Polonius, Gruydenfterne, and Rasenrans.

Pol. And the Queene to, and that presently.

Ham. Bid the Players make haſt. Will you two help to haſten them.

Ref. I my Lord, Exeunt those two.

Ham. What how, Horatio.

Enter Horatio.

Hora. Heere ſweete Lord, at your ſeruice.

Ham. Horatio, thou art een as iuſt a man.

As ere my conuerſation copt with all.

Hora. O my deere Lord.

Ham Nay

The Tragedy of Ham...

Nay, do not thinke I flatter,
For what aduancement may I hope from thee
That no reuenew haft but thy good spirits
To feede and cloathethee, why should the poore be flattred?
No, let the candied tongue lick oblurd pompe,
And crooke the pregnant hinges of the knee
Where thrift may follow fauning, dooft thou heare,
Since my deere foule was miftris of her choyce,
And could of men diftinguish her election
S hath feald thee for her felfe, for thou haft beene
As one in suffering all that suffers nothing,
A man that Fortunes buffets and rewards
Haft tane with equall thankes; and bleft are those
Whoſe bloud and iudgement are so well comedled,
That they are not a pipe for Fortunes finger
To found what ſtoppeth ſhee pleafe: giue me that man
That is not paffions 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 ſeelt that act a ſoote,
Euen with the very comment of thy ſoule
Obferue my Vncle, if his occulted guilt
Doe not itfelfe vnkennill in one ſpeech,
It is a damned Ghoſt that wee haue ſcene,
And my imaginations are as ſoule
As Vulcans ſithy; giue him heedfull note
For I mine eyes will riuet to his face,
And after wee will both our iudgements ioyne
In censure of his ſeeming.
Hora. Well my Lord,
If a ſteale ought the whilft 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,

Get

Prince of Denmark.

Get you a place.

King. How fares our cousin Hamlet ?

Ham. Excellent yfaith.

Of the Camelions diſh, I eate the ayre,
Promiſ-cram'd, you cannot feede Capons ſo.

King. I haue nothing with this aunſwer Hamlet,

These words are not mine.

Ham. No, nor mine now my Lord.

You playd once i'th Vniuerſity you ſay,

Pol. That did I my Lord, and was accounted a good Actor,

Ham. What did you enact?

Pol. I did enact Julius Caesar, I was kild i'th Capitall,

Brutus kild me.

Ham. It was a brute part of him to kill so Capitall a calfe there.

Be the Players ready?

Rof. I my Lord, they ſtay vpon your patience.

Ger. Come hether my deare Hamlet, ſit by me.

Ham. No good mother heere's mettle more attracțiue.

Pol. O,oh, doe you make that,

Ham. Lady ſhall I lie in your lap?

Ophe. No my Lord.

Ham. Doe you thinke I meant country matters?

Ophe. I thinke nothing my Lord.

Ham. That's a faire thought to lye betweene maydes legs.

Ophe. What is my Lord?

Ham. Nothing.

Ophe. You are merry my Lord.

Ham. Who I?

Oph. I my Lord.

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

Ophe. Nay, tis twice two months my Lord.

Ham. So long, nay then let the dinell weare blacke, for Ile haue a
fute of fables; O heauens, die two months ago, and not forgotten yet,
then there's hope a great mans memory may out-line his life halfe a
yeare, but ber Lady a muſt build Churches then, or eſſe ſhall a ſuffer
not thinking on, with the Hobby-horſe, whose Epitaph is, for O, for
O, the hobby-horſe is forgot.

H

Enter

The Tragedy of Hamlet

*The Trumpets found.* Dumb show followers.

Enter a King and a Queene; the Queene embracing him, and he her he takes her up, and declines his head vpon her necke, he lies him downe vpon a banke of flowers, the seeing him a sleepe, leaves him : anon comes in an other man, takes off his crowne, kiffes it, pours payson in the sleepers eares, and leaves him : the Queene returnes, finds the King dead, makes passionate action, the paysoner with some three or four eares comes in againe, seeme to condole with her, the dead body is carried away, the paysoner woes the Queene with gifts, she seemes harbo while, but in the end accepts lane.

*Oph. What meanes this my Lord?*

*Ham. Marry this munching Mallico, it meanes miechiefe.*

*Oph. Belike this show imports the argument of the play.*

*Ham. We shall know by this fellow,*

*Enter prologue.*

The players cannot keepe they'le tell all.

*Ophe. Will a tell us what this show meant ?*

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

*Oph. You are naught, you are naught, Ile marke the play.*

*Prologue. For vs and for our Tragedie,*

Heere flooping to your clemencie,

We begge your hearing patiently.

*Ham. Is this a Prologue or the poſe of a ring ?*

*Ophe. Tis breeſe my Lord.*

*Ham. As womans loue.*

*Enter King and Queene.*

*King. Full thirty times hath Phæbus Cart gone round Neptunes salt wash, and Tellus orb'd the ground, And thirty dozen moones with borrowed sheene About the world haue times twelue thirties beene Since loue our hearts, and Hymen did our hands Vnite comutuall in moft sacred bands,*

*Quee. So many iourneyes may the Sunne and Moone Make vs againe count ore ere loue bee doone, But woe is me you are so ſicke of late,*

So farre from cheere, and from your former flate, That I diſtruſt you, yet though I diſtruſt, Diſcomfort you my Lord it nothing muſt.

For.

Prince of Denmarkke.

For women ſeare too much, euen as they loue, And womens ſeare 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't, my ſeare is so, Where loue is great, the little doubts are ſeare, Where little ſeares grow great, great loue growes there.

*King. Faith I muſt leaue thce loue, and ſhortly to, My operant powers their functions leaue to do,*

And thou ſhalt liue in this fare world behind, Honord, b. lou'd, and haply one as kind,

For husband ſhalt thou.

*Quee. O confound the reſt.*

Such loue muſt needes be treaſon in my breſt, In ſecond husband let me be accuſt, None wed the ſecond, but who kild the first.

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 kiffes me in bed.

*King. I doe beleeue you thinke what now you ſpeake, But what we doe determine, oft we breake, Purpose is but the ſlue to memory, Of violent birth, but poore validity, Which now the fruite vnripe ſticks on the tree, But fall vnſhaken when they mellow bee. Most neceſſary tis that we forget*

To pay our ſelues what to our ſelues is debt, What to our ſelues in paſſion we propoſe,

The paſſion ending, doth the purpofe loſe,

The violence of either, grieſe, or ioy,

Their owne ennaſtures with them ſelues deſtroy,

Where ioy moſt reuels, grieſe doth moſt lament,

Greeſe ioy, ioy grieſes, on ſlender accedent,

This world is not for aye, nor tis not ſtrange,

That euen our loues should with our fortunes change,

For tis a queſtion left vs yet to proue,

Whether loue lead fortune, or eſe fortune loue.

The great man downe, you marke his favourite ſties,

H 2

*Ham. That's wormwood.*

The

## The Tragedy of Hamlet

The poor aduanced makes friends of enemies,
And hethertoo doth loue on fortune ten d,
For who not needs, shall neuer lacke a friend,
And who in want a hollow friend doth try,
Directly feafons him his enemie.
But orderly to end where I begunne,
Our willees and fates doe so contrary runne,
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 die thy thoughts when thy first Lord is dead.

Quee. Nor earth to me giue foode, nor heauen light,
Sport and repofe lock from mee day' and night,
To desperation turne my truft and hope,
And Anchors cheere in prifon be my scope,
Each oppofite that blanckes the face of ioy,
Meete what I would haue well, and it deſtroy,
Both heere and hence purſue me laſting ſtrife,
If once I bee a widow, euer I be a wife.

King. Tis deeply ſworne, ſweet leaue mee heare a while,
My ſpirits grow dull and faire I would beguyle
The tedious day with ſleepe,

Quee. Sleepe rock thy braine,

And neuer come miſchance betwixt vs twane.

Ham. Maddam, how like you this play ?

Quee. The Lady doth proteſt too much me thinkes.

Ham. O but ſhee'le keepe her word.

King. Haue you heard the argument ? is there no offence in't?

Ham. No, no, they do but ieſt, poyſon in ieſt, no offence i' th world.

King. What do you call the play ?

Ham. The Mouſetrap, many how tropically, this play is the Image
of a murther done in *Vienna*, *Gonzago* is the Dukes name, his wife
*Baptista*, you ſhall fee anone, tis a knauiſh peee of worke, but what
of that? your maietly and we ſhall haue free ſoules, it touches vs not,
let the gaulled Iade winch, our withers are vnwrung. This is one *Lu-
eianus*, Nephew to the King.

Enter Lucianus.

Oph. You are as good as a Chorus my Lord.

Ham. I could interpret betweene you and your loue

If

## Prince of Denmark.

If I could fee the puppits dallying.

Oph. You are keene my Lord, you are keene.

Ham. It would coſt you a groning to take off mine edge.

Oph. Still better and worle.

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

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

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

Oph. The King ríſes.

Quee. How fares my Lord?

Pol. Giue ore the play.

King. Giue me ſomedight, away.

Pol. Lights, lights, lights. Exeunt, all but Ham. and Horatio.

Ham. Why let the ſroken deere goe weepe,

The Hart vngauled play,

For ſome snuff watch whilft ſome muſt ſleepe,
Thus runnès the world away. Would not this fir and a forreſt of ſea-
thers, if the reſt of my fortunes turne Turke with me, with prouinci-
all Róſes, on my raz'd ſhooes, get me a fellowship in a city of players ?

Hora. Halfe a share.

Ham. A whole one I.

For thou doſt know oh *Damon* deere

This Realme diuanted was

Of loue himſelfe, and now raignes heere

A very very paiock.

Hora. You might haue rim'd.

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

Hora. Very well my Lord.

Ham. Vppon the talke of the poyſoning.

Hora. I did very well note him.

H3.

Ham.

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

Ham. Ah ha, come some musique, come the Recorders,
For if the King like not the Comedy,
Why then believe he likes it not perdy.
Come, some musique,

*Enter Rosencraus, Guyldesterne,*

Guyl. Good my Lord, you make me a word with you.

Ham. Sir a whole history.

Guy. The King fir.

Ham. I fir, what of him?

Guyl. Is in his retirement merrailous diftempred,

Ham. With drinke fir?

Guyl. No my lord, with choller,

Ham. Yout wildome should shew it selfe more richer to signifie
this to the Doctor, for, for me to put him to his purgation, would per-
haps plunge him into more choller.

Guyl. Good my Lord, put your discourse into some frame,

And fare not so wildly from my affaire.

Ham. I am tame fir, pronounce.

Guil. The Queene your mother in moft great affliction of spirit,
hath sent me to you.

Ham. You are welcome.

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

Ham. Sir I cannot.

Ros. What my Lord.

Ham. Make you a wholsome answer, my wits difeafd, but fir, such
answere as I can make, you fhail commaund, or rather as you say, my
mother, therefore no more, but to the matter, my mother you say.

Ros. Then thus the faies, your behauiour hath flooke her into a-
mazement and admiration.

Ham. O wonderful sonne that can do this, I wonder if a mother! but is
there no ſequell at the heeles of this mothers admirations? impart.

Ros. She desires to ſpeake with you in her cloſet ere you go to bed.

Ham. We shall obey, were the ten times our mother, have you any
further trade with vs?

Ros. my Lord you once did loue me.

Ham. And doe ſtill by theſe pickers and ſtealers.

Ros,

## Prince of Denmark.

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

Ham. Sir I lacke aduancement.

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

*Enter the Players with Recorders.*

Ham. I fir, but while the graſſe growes, the prouerbe is ſomething
muſtly, oh the Recorders, let me fee one, to withdraw with you, why
do you goe about to recover the wind of me, as if you would draw
me into a toyle?

Guyl. O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my loue is too vnmanerly.

Ham. I do not well vnderstand that, will you play upon this pipe?

Guyl. My Lord I cannot.

Ham. I pray you.

Guyl. Bel eeue me I cannot:

Ham. I befeech you.

Guyl. I know no touch of it my Lord,

Ham. It is as eafe as lyting, gourne theſe ventages with your fin-
gers, and the thumb giue it breath with your mouth, and it will diſ-
course moſt eloquent muſique, looke you, theſe are the ſtoppes.

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

Ham. Why looke you now how vnworthy a thing you make of
me, you would play upon me, you would ſceme to know my ſtops,
you would plucke out the hart of my mitterie, you would found mee
from my loweſt note to my compaſſe, and there is much muſique ex-
cellet voice in this little organ, yet cannot you make it ſpeak, s blood
do you thinke I am easier to be plaid on then a pipe, call me what in-
strument you wil, though you fret me not, you cannot play upon me.
God bleſſe you fir.

*Enter Polonius.*

Pol. My Lord, the Queene would ſpeake with you, & preſently.

Ham. Do you ſee yonder cloud that's almost in ſhape of a Camel?

Pol. By this muſſe and it is like a Camell indeede,

Ham. Me thinkes it is like a Wezell.

Pol. It is black like a Wezell.

Ham. Or like a Whale.

To. Very like a Whale.

Ham. Then

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

Then I will come to my mother by and by,
They foole me to the top of my bent, I will come by and by,
Leaue me friends.

I will, say so. By and by is easily said,
Tis now the very witching time of night,
When Churchyards yawne, and hell it selfe breaks out
Contagion to this world: now could I drinke hote blood,
And doe such businesse as the bitter day
Would quake to looke on: soft, now to my mother,
O hart loose not thy nature! let not euer,
The foule of Nero enter this firme bofome!
Let me be cruell, not vn naturall,
I will fpeake dagger to her, but vse none,
My tongue and foule in this be hypocrites,
How in my words someuer vne be flent,
To giue them feales neuer my foule consent.

Exit,

## Enter King, Roseneraus, and Guydensterne.

King. I like him not, nor stands it safe with vs
To let his madnesse range, therefore prepare you,
I your commission will forthwith dilpatch,
And he to England shall along with you,
The termes of our estate may not endure
Hazard so neer's as doth hourly grow,
Out of his browes,

Gyly. We will our feales prouide,
Moſt holy and religious feare it is
To keepe those many many bodies safe
That liue and feed vpon your Maiety.

Ros. The single and peculiar life is bound,
With all the firengh and armour of the mind
To keepe it selfe from noyance, but much more
That spirit, vpon whose weale depends and reſts
The liues of many, the ceſſe of Maiety
Dies not alone; but like a gulſe doth draw
What's neere it, with it, or it is a maffie wheele
Fixt on the ſonnet of the highest mount,
To whose hugh spokes, tenn thouſand leſſer things
Are morteift and adioynd, which when it falls,

Each

## Prince of Denmark.

Each small annexment, pety consequence
Attends the boyſtrous raine, neuer alone
Did the King ſigh, but a generall growne.
King. Arme you I pray you to this ſpedy voiage,
For we will fetters put about this ſcare
Which now goes too free-footed.

Ros. We will haſt vs.

Exeunt Gent.

## Enter Polonius.

Pol. My Lord, he's going to his mothers cloſet,
Behind the Arras I'le conuay my ſelfe
To here the proſſeſſe, I'le warrant ſhee'le tax him home,
And as you ſaid, and wifely was it ſayd,
Tis meete that ſome more audience then a mother,
Since nature makes them partiall, ſhould ore-heare
The ſpeech of vantage; ſare you well my Leige,
I'le call vpon you ere you goe to bed.
And tell you what I know.

Exit.

King. Thankes deere my Lord.
O my offence is 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 ſtronge entent,
And like a man to double busines bound,
I ſtand in paſſe where I ſhall firſt beginne,
And both neglect: what if this curſed hand
Were thicker then it ſelfe with brothers blood,
Is there not raine enough in the ſweete Heauens
To wash it white as snowe whereto ſerues mercy
But to confront the viſage of offence?
And what's in prauer 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 paſſ, but oh! what forme of prayer
Can ſerue my turne? forgiue me my foule murther;
That cannot be ſince I am ſtill poſſeſt
Of those aſſeets for which I did the murther;
My Crowne, mine owne ambition, and my Queene;

I

May

The Tragedy of Hamlet

May one be pardoned and retain th'offence?
In the corrupted currents of this world,
Offences guided hand may show by injustice,
And oft his fene 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 felues compell
Euen to the teeth and forehead of our faults
To giue in evidence: what then, what refts ?
Try what repentance can, what can it not,
Yet what can it, when one cannot repent?
O wretched state, O bofome blacke as death,
O limed foule, that struggling to be free,
Art more ingaged! helpe Angles make affay,
Bow stubborne knees and hart with ftrings of steele,
Be soft as finne wes of the new borne babe,
All may be well.

Enter Hamlet.

Ham. Now might I doe it, but now a is a praying,
And now Ile doot, and so a goes to heauen,
And so am I reuendge, that would be ſcand
A villaine kills my father, and for that,
I his sole ſonne, doe this fame villaine ſend
To heauen.
Why, this is bafe and filly, not reuendge,
A took my father groſely, full of bread,
Withall his crimes broad blowne, as flush as May,
And how his audit ſtands who knowes faue heauen,
But in our circumſtance and course of thought,
Tis heauy with him: and am I then reuendged
To take him in the purging of his ſoule,
When he is fit and ſeafoned 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'ineſtitious pleafure of his bed,
At game, a ſwearing, or about ſome act
That has no relish of ſaluation in't.

Then

Prince of Denmark.

Then trip him that his heele mas kick at heauen,
And that his ſoule may be as damnd and blacke
As hell whereto it goes; my mother ſtaies,
This phificke but prolongs thy ſickly daies.

King. My words fly vp, my thoughts remaine below
Words without thoughts neuer to heauen goe.

Exit.

Exit.

Enter Gertrard and Polonius.

Polo. A will come ſtrait, Jooke you lay home to him,
Tell him his prancks haue beene too broad to beare with,
And that your grace hath ſcreen'd and ſtood betweene
Much heate and him, Ile ſilence me euen heere,
Pray you be round.

Enter Hamlet.

Ger. Ile waite you, ſeare me not,
With-draw, I heare him comming.

Ham. Now mother, what's the matter?

Ger. Hamlet, thou haſt thy father much offended.

Ham. Mother you haue my father much offended.

Ger. Come, come, you anſwer with an idle tongue,

Ham. Goe goe, you question with a wicked tongue.

Ger. Why how now Hamlet?

Ham. What's the matter now?

Ger. Haue you forgot me?

Ham. No by the rood not so,

You are the Queene, your husbands brothers wife,
And would it were not so, you are my mother.

Ger. Nay then Ile ſet thate to you that can ſpeake.

Ham. Come, come, and fit you downe, you shall not boudge,

You goe not till I ſet you vp a glaſſe

Where you may ſee the moſt part of you,

Ger. What wilt thou doe, thou wilt not murther me?

Helpe hor.

Polo, What hoe helpe,

Ham. How now, a Rat, dead for a Duckat, dead.

Polo. O I am flaine.

Ger. O me, what haſt thou done?

Ham. Nay I know not, is it the King?

12

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Ger. O what a rash and bloody deede is this.

Ham. A bloody deede, almost as bad good mother
As kill a King, and marry with his brother.

Ger. As kill a King.

Ham. I Lady, it was my word.
Thou wretched, rash, intruding foole farewell,
I tooke thee for thy better, take thy fortune,
Thou find it to bee tooOUe is some danger.
Leaue wringing of your hands, peace fit you downe,
And let me wring your heart, for so I shall
If it be made of penetrable fluffe,
If damned cuftome haue nor braid it so,
That it be proofe and bulwark against flence.

Ger. What haue I done, that thou dar it wagge thy tongue.
In noye so rude against me?

Ham. Such an act

That blurres the grace and blufh of modefty,
Calls vertue hipocrit, takes of the Rose
From the faire forhead of an innocent loue,
And fets a blifter there, makes marriage vowes
As falfe as dicers oathes, Oh such a deed!
As from the body of contraſtion pluckes
The very fouletand ſweet religion makes
A rapfody of words; heauens face dooes glow
Ore this solidiry and compound maſſe
Withheated visage, as againſt the doome
Is thought-fick at the act.

Quee. Ay me what act?

Ham. That roares so low'de and thunders in the Index,
Looke here vpon this Picture, and on this,
The counterfeit preſentment of two brothers,
See what a grace was feared on his browe,
Hiperions curles, the front of loue him ſelfe,
An eye like Mars, to threten and command,
Aftation like the herald Mercury,
New lighted on a heaue, a kissing hill,
A combination and ſorme indeede,
Where euery God didſeeme to ſet his ſeale
To giue the world affurance of a man,

This

Prince of Denmark.

This was your husband, looke you now what followes,
Heere is your husband like a mildewed eare,
Blaſting his wholeſome brother:haue you eyes?
Could you on this faire mountaine leaue to feede,
And batton on this Moore; ha, haue you eyes ?
You cannot call it loue, for at your age

The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waites vpon the iudgement, and what iudgement
Would flep from this to this? ſence ſure you haue
Elz could you not haue motion, but ſure that ſence
Is appopſt, for madneſſe would not erre

Nor ſenc to extacie was neere ſo thral'd
But it ſeru'd ſome quantity of choyce

To ſerue in ſuch a difference. What diuell waſt
That thus hath cofond you at ſnodman blind?

Eyes without ſeeling, ſeeling without ſight,
Eares without hands, or eyes, ſmelling ſance all,
Or but a ſickly part of one true ſence

Could not so mope. Oh ſhame! where is thy bluſh?
Rebellious hell,

If thou canſt mutine in a Matrons bones,
To flaming youth, let vertue be as wax
And melt in her owne fire, proclaime no ſhame
When the compulſiue at ſure giues the charge,
Since froſt it ſelfe as actiuelly doth butne,
And reaſon pardons will.

Ger. O Hamlet ſpeake no more,
Thou turn'ſt my very eyes into my ſoule,
And there I ſee ſuch black and greeued ſpots
As will leaue there e their tin'ct.

Ham. Nay but to liue
In the rancke ſweat of an inceſtuous bed
Stewed in corruption, honying and making loue
Ouer the naſty ſtie.

Ger. O ſpeake to mee no more,
These words like daggers enter in my eares,
No more ſweet Hamlet.

Ham. A murtherer and a villaine,
A ſlaue that is not twentith part the kyth.

Of

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Of your precedent Lord, a vice of Kings,
A cut-pulse of the Empire and the rule,
That from a selfe the precious Diadem stole
And put it in his pocket.

*Enter Gheest.*

Ham. A King of threds and patches,
Sae me and houer ore me with your wings
You heauenly gards: what would your gratious figure?

Ger. Alasse hee's mad.

Ham. Doe you not come your tardy sonne to chide,
That lap it in time and passion lets goe by
Th' important acting of your dread command. O say!

Gheest. Doe not forget: this viſitation

Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose,
But looke, amazement on thy mother fits,
O step betweene her, and her fighting foule!
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest workes,
Speake to her Hamlet.

Ham. How is it with you, Lady?

Ger. Alasse how it with you?

That you doe bend your eye on vacancy,
And with th'incorporall ayre doe hold discourſe,
Footh at your eyes your liprrits wildly peep,
And as the sleeping ſouldiers in th'alarme,
Your beaded hairc 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 doe you looke?

Ham. On him, on him, looke you how pale he glares,
His forme and cause conioyned, preaching to ſtones
Would make them capable, doe not looke vpon me,
Leaſt with this pittious action you conduert
My ſtearne effects, then what I haue to doe
Will want true collour, reares perchance for blood.

Ger. To whome doe you ſpeak this?

Ham. Do you see nothing there?

Ger. Nothing at all, yet all that is there I see.

Ham. Nor did you nothing heat?

Ger. No: nothing but our ſelues.

Ham.

Prince of Denmark.

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.

Ger. This is the very coynage of your braine,
This bodiliffes creation, extacy is very cunning in
Ham. My pulse as yours doth temperably keepe time,
And makes as healthfull muſicke, it is not madneſſe

That I haue vttred, bring me to the teft,
And the matter will reword, which madneſſe
Would gambole from, Mother for loue of grace,
Lay not that flattering vnſtion to your ſoule,
That not your trefpaffe but my madneſſe ſpeakes,
It will but skin and filme the vicerous place,
Whiles rancke corruption mining all within
Infects vnſene: conſeſſe your ſelfe to heauen,
Repent what's paſt, auoyd what is to come,
And doe not ſpread the compoſt on the weedes
To make them rancker, forgive 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 half,
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 likewife giues a frocke or Luicry
That aptly is put on to refraine night,
And that ſhall lend a kind of eafines
To the next abſtinance, the next more eafe:
For vſe almost can change the ſtamp of nature,
And Maſter the diuell, or throw him out
With wonderous potency: once more good night,
And when you are defirous to be bleſt,
Ile bleſſing beg of you, for this fame Lord
I doe repent; but heauen hath pleas'd it so

To

*Exit Gheest.*

The Tragedie of Hamlet

To punish me with this, and this with me,
That I must be their scourge and minister,
I will beftow him and will anſwer well
The death I gaue him; ſo againe good night
I muſt be cruell only to be kinde,
This bad beginnes, and worſeremaines behind.
One word more good Lady

Ger. What ſhall I doe?

Ham. Not this by no means that I bid you doe,
Let the blow King temp't you againe to bed,
Pinch wanton on your cheekc, call you his Mouſe,
And let him for a paire of reechy kiffes,
Or padling in your necke with his damn'd fingers.
Make you to rouell all this matter out
That I effentially am not in madneſſe,
But mad in craft, it were good you let him know.
For who that's but a Queene, faire, ſober, wife,
Would from a paddack, from a bat, a gib,
Such deare conceruings hide, who would doe ſo,
No, in diſpight of ſence and ſecrecy,
Vnpeg the basket on the houſes top;
Let the birds fly, and like the famous Ape,
To try conclusions in the basket creepe,
And breake your owne necke downe.

Ger. Be thou affur'd, if words be made of breath,
And breath of life, I haue no life to breath
What thou haſt layd to me.

Ham. I muſt to England, you know that,

Ger. Alacke I had forgot.

Tis ſo concluded on.

Ham. Ther's letters ſeald, and my two Schoolefellowes,
Whom I will truſt as I will Adders ſang'd,
They beare the mandat, they muſt swoepe my way
And marſhall me to knauery: let it worke,
For tis the ſport to haue the enginer
Hoſt with his owne petar, an't shall goe hard
But I will delue one yard belowe their mines,
And blow them at the Moone: O tis moſt swoeet
When in one line two crafts directly meete,

This

Prince of Denmark.

This man shall ſet me packing,
Ile lugge the guts into the neighbour roome;
Mother good night indeed, this Counſayler
Is now moſt ſtill, moſt ſecret, and moſt graue,
Who was in life a moſt foolish prating knaue.
Come fir, to draw toward an end with you.
Good night mother.
Exit.

Enter King, and Queene, with Rofencraus
and Gyldenſterne.

King. There's matter in these ſighes, these profound heaues,
You muſt tranſlate, tis fit we vnderſtand them,
Where is your ſonne?

Gert. Beſtow this place on vs a little while.

Ah mine owne Lord, what haue I ſene to night?

King What Gertrud, how dooes Hamlet?

Gert. Mad as the sea and wind when both contend
Which is the mightier in his lawleſſe fit,
Behind the Arras hearing ſome thing ſtirre,
Whips out his Rapier, crye is a Rat, a Rat,
And in this brainſiſh apprehension kills
The vnſene good old man.

King, O heauy deed!
It had beene ſo with vs had we beene there,
His liberty is full of threatens to all,
To you your ſelfe, to vs, to every one,
Alas, how ſhall this bloody deede be anſwer'd?
It will be layd to vs, whoſe prouidence
Should haue kept ſhort, reſtraind, and out of haunt
This mad young man; but so much was our loue,
We would not vnderſand what was moſt fit,
But like the owner of a foule diſeafe
To keepe it from divulging, let it feede
Euen on the pith of life: where is he gone?

Gert. To draw apart the body he hath kild,
Ore whom, his very madneſſe like ſome ore
Among a minerall of mettals bafe,
Showes it ſelfe pure, a swoepes for what is done.

King. Gertrud, com away,

K

The

The Tragedy of Hamlet

The Sunne no sooner shall the mountaines touch,
But wee will shippe him hence, and this vile deede
Wee muft with all our Maieſtly and ſkill
Both countenance and excufe. Ho Guyldeſterne,
Friends both, goe ioyne you with ſome further ayde,
Hamlet in madnes hath Polonius ſlaine,
And from his mothers cloſet hath hee drag'd him,
Goe ſeeke him out ſpeake ſayre and bring the body
Into the Chappell; I pray you haſt in this,
Come Gertrard, wee'le call vp our wifeft friends,
And let them know both what wee meane to do
And whates vntimely done,
Whofe whisper are the worlds Diameter
As leuell as the Cannon to his blanke,
Transports his poyſned ſhot, may miſe our name,
And hit the woundiſſe ayre, O come away,
My ſoule is full of diſcord and diſmay.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, Rosencraus and others.

Ham. Safely flowd, but softly, what noyſe, who calls on Hamlet ?
O heere they come.

Rof. What haue you done my Lord with the dead body ?

Ham. Compounded it with duſt where to it is kin.

Rof. Tell vs where tis that wee may take it thence,

And beare it to the Chappell.

Ham. Do not beleeue it.

Rof. Beleeue what ?

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

Rof. Take you me for a ſpunge my Lord ?

Ham. If it, that fokes vp the Kings countenance, his rewards, his
authorities, but ſuch Offiſers do the King beſt ſeruice in the end, he
keepes them like an apple in the corner of his iaw, firſt mouth'd to be
laſt ſwallowed, when he needs what you haue gleand, it is but ſquec-
ſing you, and ſpunge you ſhall be dry againe.

Rof. I vnderſtand you not my Lord.

Ham. I am glad of it, a knauſh ſpeech ſleepes in a ſooliſh eare.

Rof. My Lord, you muſt tell vs where the body is, and go with vs
to the King,

Hamlet

Prince of Denmark.

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

Guyl. A thing my Lord.

Ham. Of nothing, bring me to him.

Exeunt.

Enter King, and two or three.

King. I haue ſent to ſeeke him, and to find the body,
How dangerous is it that this man goes loofe,
Yet muſt not we put the strong Law on him,
Hee's lou'd of the diſtraſted 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 ſeeue
Deliberate pause, diſeafes desperate growne,
By desperate applyance are relieu'd
Or not at all.

Enter Rosencraus and all the rest.

King. How now, what hath befalne?

Rof. Where the dead body is beſtowd my Lord
We cannot get from him.

King. But where is he?

Rof. Without my Lord, guarded to know your pleasure.

Kidg. Bring him before vs.

Rof. Hoe, bring in the Lord.

King. Now Hamlet, where's Polonius?

Ham. At ſupper.

King. At ſupper where.

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

King. Alaffe, alaffe.

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

King. What doſt thou meane by this?

Ham. Nothing but to ſhew you how a King may go a progreſſe
through

They Enter.

K a

The Tragedy of Hamlet

through the guttes of a begger.

King. Where is Polonius?

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

King. Goe ſeeke him there

Ham. A will ſtay till you come.

King. Hamlet this deede for thine eſpeciall safety Which wee do tender, as wee deerely greeue For that which thou haſt done, muſt ſeud thee hence :

Therefore prepare thy ſelfe,
The barke is ready, and the wind at helpe,
Th' affotiati 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 purpofes.

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 ſelsh, ſo my mother :

Come for England, Exit.

King. Follow him at foote,
Tempt him with ſpeede abourd,
Delay it not, Ile haue him hence to night,
Away, for euery thing is ſeald and done
That els leanes on the affaire, pray you make haſt,
And England if my lone thou hold'ſt at ought,

And England if my lone thou hold'ſt at ought,
As my great power thereof may giue thee ſence,
Since yet thy Cicatrice looks raw and red,
After the Daniſh ſword, and thy freee awe
Payes homage to vs, thou maſt not coldly ſet
Our ſoueraigne proceſſe, which imports at full
By letters congruing to that effect

The preſent death of Hamlet, do it England,
For like the Hectique in my blood hee rages,

And

Prince of Denmark.

And thou muſt cure me till I know tis done,
How ere my haps, my ioyes will nere beginne.

Exit.

Enter Fortinbrasse with his Armie ouer the Stage.

Fortin. Goe Captaine, from mee greet the Daniſh King,
Tell him, that by his lycence Fortinbrasse

Craues the conueyance of a promiſd march
Ouer his kiing dome, you know the rendezvous,

If that his maiſely would ought with vs,
Wee ſhall expreſſe our duty in his eye,
And let him know so.

Cap. I will doo my Lord.

Fortin. Goe softely on.

Enter Hamlet, Rosencraus, &c.

Ham. Good fir whose powers are these?

Cap. The are of Norway fir.

Ham. How propoſed I pray you?

Cap. Aainſt some part of Poland.

Ham. Who commands them fir?

Cap. The Nephew to old Norway, Fortinbrasse.

Ham. Goes it againſt the maine of Poland fir?

Or for some frontire?

Cap. Truely to ſpeake, and with no addition,

We goe to gaine a little patch of ground

That hath in it no profit but the name

To pay ſue duckets, ſine I would not farme it?

Nor will it yeeld to Norway or the Pole

A rancker rate, ſhould it bee ſould in fee.

Ham. Why then the Pollacke neuer will defend it.

Cap. Yes it is already garifond.

Ham- Two thouſand loules and twenty thouſand duckes
Will not debate the queſtion of this ſraw,

This is th' impoſtume of much wealth and peace,
That inward breakes and ſhewes no cause w ithout

Why the man dies I humbly thanke you fir.

Cap. God buy you fir.

Ros. Wilt please you goe my Lord?

Ham. Ile be with you ſtraight, goe a little before.

How alloccasions do inſorme againſt mo

K 3

And

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

And spur my dull reuenge. What is a man
If his chiefe good and market of his time
Be but to fleepe and feed, a beaft, no more:
Sure he that made vs with suh large difcourſe
Looking before and after, gaue vs not
That capability and God-like reaſon
To ſuſt in vs vnſt, now whether it be
Beſtiall obliuion, or ſome krauen ſeruple
Of thinking too precisely on th' event,
A thought which quartered hath but one part wifdome,
And euer three parts coward, I doe not know
Why yet I liue to ſay this thing's to doe,
Sith I haue cauſe, and wil and ſtrength, and meaneſ
To doo't; examples groſſe as earth exhort me,
Witnes this Army of ſuch maſſe and charge,
Led by a delicate and tender Prince,
Whole ſpirit with diuine ambition puſt,
Makes mouthes at the inuible event,
Expeſing 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 ſtirre without great argument,
But greatly to find quarrell in a ſtraw
When honour's at the ſtake. How ſtand I then
That haue a father kild, a mother ſtaind,
Excitements of my reaſon, and my blood,
And let all ſleepe, while to my ſhame I ſee
The iminent death of twenty thousand men,
That for a ſantafie and tricke of fame
Goe to their graues like beds, fight for a plot
Whereon the numbers cannot try the cauſe,
Which is not to be enough and continent
To hide the ſaine. O from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth.
Exit.

Enter Horatio, Gertrard, and a Gentleman.

Quee. I will not ſpeake with her,
Gm. She is importunat,
Indeed diftraſt, her moode will needes be pittied.

Quee.

## Prince of Denmark.

Quee. What would ſhe haue?

Gent. She ſpeakes much of her father, ſayes ſhe heates
There's tricks i'th world, and hems, and beats her heart,
Spurnes enuiously at ſtrawes, ſpeakes things in doubt
That carry but halſe ſence, her ſpeech is nothing,
Yet the vnſhaped vſe of it doth moue
The hearers to collection, they yawne at it,
And botch the words vp fit to their owne thoughts,
Which as winckes, and nods, and geſtures yeeld them,
Indeeede would make one thinke there might be thought
Though nothing ſure, yet much vnhappily.

Hora. Twere good ſhe were ſpoken with, for ſhe may ſtrew
Dangerous coniectures in ill-breeding mindeſ,
Let her come in.

Enter Ophelia.

Quee. 'To my ſicke ſoule, as finnes true nature is,
' Each toy ſeemes prologue to ſome great amiffe,
' So full of artſeſſe ialofie 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.

Oph. How should I your true loue know from another one,
By his cockle hat and ſaffe, and his Sendall ſhoone.

Quee. Alafſe ſweet Lady, what imports this ſong?

Oph. Say you, nay, pray you marke,
He is dead and gone Lady, he is dead and gone,
At his head a graſſe greene turph, at his hcees a ſtone.
Oh ho.

Quee. Nay but Ophelia.

Oph. Pray you marke. White his ſhrowd as the mountainie ſnow.

Enter King.

Quee. Alafſe looke heere my Lord.

Ophe. Larded all with ſweet flowers,
Which beweep't to the ground did not go
With true loue ſhowers.

King. How doe you pretty Lady?

Oph. Well good did you, they ſay the Owle was a Bakers daugh-
ter, Lord wee know what wee are, but know not what we may be,
God be at your table

King.

The Tragedy of Hamlet

King. Conceit vpon her Father.

Ophe. Pray let's have no words of this, but when they aske you what it means, lay you this.

To morrow is S. Valentines day,
All in the morning betime,
And I a mayd at your window
To be your Valentine.

To be your Valentine.
Then vp he rose, and dand his close, and dupt the chamber doore,
Let in the maide, that out a maide, neuer departed more.

King. Pretty Ophelia.

Ophe. Indeed without an oath Ile make an end on't,

By gis and by Saint charity,
alacke and fie for shame.

Young men will doot if they come too't,
by Cocke they are too blame.

Quoth she, before you tumbled me, you promisd me to wed,
(He anfwers) So I haue I done by yonder funne
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 weepe to thinke they would lay him i'th cold ground my brother shall know of it, and so I thanke you for your good counsife. Come my Coach, God night Ladies, God night.

Sweet Laides: God night, God night.

King. Follow her cloſe, giue her good watch I pray you.

O this is the poyſon of deepe 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 : firſt her Father flaine,
Next, your ſonne gone, and he moſt violent Author
Of his owne iuſt remoue, the people muddied
Thick and vnwholesome in thoughts, and whispeſ
For good Polonius death: and we haue done but greenly

In hugger mugger to inter him: poore Ophelia
Deuided from herſelfe, and her faire iudgement,
Without the which we are pietures, or meere beaſts,

Laſt, and as much contayning as all theſe,
Her brother is in ſecret come from France,
Feeds on this wonder, keepes himſelfe in clowdes,

And

Prince of Denmarkes

And wants not buzzers to infect his eare
With poffentil ſpeeches of his fathers death,

Wherein neceſſity 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

Gives me ſuperfluous death. A noyſe within.

Enter a messenger.

King. Attend, where are my Swifters, let them guard the doore,
What is the matter?

Meffen. Saue your ſelfe my Lord.

The Ocean ouer-peering of his lift.
Eates not the flats with more imperuious haſt

Then young Laertes in a notorious head
Ore-beares your Officers : the rabble call him Lord,

And as the world were now but to beginne,
Antiquity forgot, cuitome not knowne,

The rarifiers and preps of every word,

The cry choſe we, Laertes shall be King,

Caps, hands and tongues applau'd it to the clouds,

Laertes shall be King, Laertes King.

Que. How chearfully on the false traile they cry. A noyſe within,
O this is counter, you falſe Danish dogges.

Enter Laertes with others.

King. The doores are broke.

Laer. Where is this King ? firſt stand you all without.

All. No lets come in.

Laer. I pray you giue mee leaue.

All. We will, we will.

Laer. I thanke you: keepe the doore, O thou vile King,
Gue me my father.

Quee. Calmely good Laertes.

Laer. That drop of blood that calme proſclaims me Baſtard,

Cries%/cuckold to my father, brands the Harlot.

Euen heere betweene the chaſt vnſmetcht browe

Of my true mother.

King. What is the cauſe Laertes?

That thy rebellion looks ſo Giant-like ?

L.

Lee

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Let him goe Gertrard, do not feare our person,
There's such diuinity doth hedge a King,
That treason cannot peepe to what it would,
And's little of his will, tell me Laertes
Why thou art thus incensed, let him goe Gertrard,
Speake man.

Laer. Where is my father ?

King. Dead.

Quee. But not by him,

King. Let him demaund his fill.

Laer. How came he dead? Ile not be iugled with,
To hell allegiance, vowes to the blackest diuell,
Confidence and grace, to the profoundest pit
I dare damnation, to this poynt I stand,
That both the worlds I gueve to negligence,
Let come what comes, onely Ile be reveng'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,
The shall goe farre with little.

King. Good Laertes, if you desire to know the certainty
Of your deere father, it shall writ in your reuenge,
That soope-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 arms,
And like the kind life-rendering Pelican,
Rejoice them with my blood.

King. Why now you speake
Like a good child and a true Gentleman.
That I am guilty of your fathers death,
And am most fencible in griefe for it,
It shall as leuell to your judgement peare
As day does to your eye.

A noyse within,

Enter Ophelia.

Laer. Let her come in.
How now what noyse is that ?

Prince of Denmark.

O heate, dry vp my braines, teares seauen times salt
Burne out the fence and vertue of mine eye.
By heauen thy madnes shall be payd with weight
Till our scale turne the beame. O Rose of May,
Deere mayd, kind Lifter, sweet Ophelia,
O heauens, ift possible a young maids wits
Should be as mortall as a poore mans life!

Ophe. They bore him bare-fac'd on the Earth,
And in his graue rain'd many a teare,
Fare you well my Doue.

Song.

Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst perfide 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 falfe Steward that stole his Maifters daughter,

Laer. This nothing's more then matter.

Ophe. There's Rosemary, that for remembrance, pray you loue me,
member, and there is Pancies, that's for thoughts.

Laer. A document in madnes, thoughts and remembrance fitted.

Ophe. There's Fennill for you, and Colembines, there's Rewe for you,
& heere's some for me, we may call it herbe of Grace a Sondaines,
you may weare your Rewe with a difference, there's a Dafie, I would
giue you some Violets, but they witherd all when my Father dyed,
they say a made a good end.

For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.

Lear. Thought and affictions, passion, hell it selfe
She turnes to fauour and to prettineffe.

Ophe. And will a not come againe,
And will a not come againe,
No, no, he is dead, goe to thy death bed,
He neuer will come againe.
His beard was as white as snow,
Flaxen was his pole,

Song.

He is gone, he is gone, and we caft away mone,
God a mercy on his foules, and all Christians foules,
God buy yous,

Lear. Doe you this O God.

King. Laertes, I must commune with your griefe,
Or you deney me right, goe but a part,

I a

Make

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Make choice of whome your wiser friends you will,
- And they shall heare and iudge twixt you and me,
- If by direct or by colaturall hand
They find vs toucht, we will our kindome 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 foule
To giue it due content.

Laer. Let this be so.

His meanes of death, his obscure funerall,
No trophæs, fword, nor hachment ore his bones,
No noble right, nor formall oſentation,
Cry to be heard as twere from heauen to earth,
That I muſt call't in queſtion.

Kin. 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 fir, they ſay they haue Letters for you,

Hora, Let them come in.

I do not know from what part of the world

I should be greeted. If not from Lord Hamlet.

Enter Saylers

Say. God bleſſe you fir.

Hora. Let him bleſſe thee to.

Say. A ſhall fir and pleafe him, there's a Letter for you fir, it came from th' Embaſſador that was bound for England, if your name bee Horatio, as I am let to know it is.

Hor. Horatio, when thou ſhalt haue ouer-look't this, giue these fel-
lowes some meanes to the King, they haue Letters for him: Ere wee
were two daies old at Sea, a Pyrat of very warlike appointment gaue
vs chafe, finding our ſelues too flow of ſaile, we put on a compelled
valour, and in the grapple I boorded them, on the instant they got
cleere of our ship, so I alone became their prifoner, 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
repayre thou to mee with as much ſpeed as thou wouldt fly death.
I haue words to ſpeake in thine eare wil make thee dumbe, yet are
they

Prince of Denmark.

they much too light for the bord of the matter, these good fellowes
will bring thee where I am, Rosencrans and Gildersfern e hold their
course for England, of them I haue much to tell thee, farwell.

So that thou knowest this Hamlet.

Hora. Come I will make you way for these your letters,
And doot the ſpeedier that you may direct me
To him from whome you brought them.

Exeunt.

Enter King and Laertes.

King. Now muſt you confiſcance 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 ſaine
Purſued my life.

Lar. It well appears: but tell me
Why you proceede not againſt these ſeates.
So criminall and so capitall in nature,
As by your ſafety, greatnes, wiſdome, all things els,
You mainly were ſuir'd vp.

King. O for two ſpeciall reaſons,
Which may to you perhaps ſeeme much vnfinnow'd,
But yet to me that 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 ſtare mooues not but in his sphere
I could not but by her, the other motiue,
Why to a publique 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 ſone,
Conuert his Glues to graces, so that my arrowes
Too flightly tymbered for so loued armes,
Would haue reuerted to my bow againe,
But not where I haue aym'd them.

Laer. And so haue I a noble father, loſt,
A filter driuen into desperat terms,
V.Vhoſe worth, if prayſes may goe backe againe.

L 3.

Stood

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Stood challenger on mount of all the age
For her perfections, but my reuenge will come.

King. Breake not your sleepes for that, you must not thinke
That we are made of stuffe so flat and dull,
That we can let our berd be shooke with danger,
And thinke it paſttime, 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.

Messe. Theſe to your Maiety, this to the Queene.

King. From Hamlet, who brought them?

Messe. Saylers my Lord they ſay, I ſaw them not,
They were giuen me by Clandio, 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 kingdome,
to morrow ſhall I begge leaue to see your kingly eyes, when I ſhall
firſt asking you pardon, there vnto recount the occafion of my ſud-
daine returne.

King. What ſhould this meane, are all the reſt come backe,
Or is it ſome abufe, and no ſuch thing?

Laer. Know you the hand?

King. Tis Hamlets caracter. Naked,
And in a poſtscript here he faies alone,
Can you deuife me?

Laer. I am loft in it my Lord, but let him come,
It warmes the very ſicknes 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 otherwife,
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,

Asliking no t his voyaſe, and that he meanes,
No more to vnder take it, I will worke him
To an employt, now ripe in my deuife,
Vader the which he ſhall not choose but fall:

And

Prince of Denmark.

And for his death no wind of blame ſhall breaſe,
But euen his mother ſhall vncharge the practise,
And call it accedent.

Laer. My Lord I will be rul'd,
The rather if you could deuife it so
That I might be the organ.

King. It falls right,
You haue beene taikt of ſince your trauaile much,
And that in Hamlets hearing for a quality
Wherein they ſay you ſhine, your ſumme of parts
Did not together plucke ſuch enuy from him
As did that one, and that in my regard
Of the vnworthieſt ſledge.

Laer. What part is that my Lotd?
King. A very riband in the cap of youth,
Yet needfull too, for youth no ſelfe becomes
The light and careleſſe liuery that it weares
Then ſettled age, his ſables, and his weedes
Importing health and grauenes; two monthes ſeele
Heere was a Gentleman of Normandy,
I haue ſeene my ſelfe, and ſeru'd against the French,
And they can well on horſe-backe, but this Gallant
Had witch-craft in't, he grew vnto his ſeate,
And to ſuch wondrous dooing brought his horſe,
As had he beene incorp'rt, and demy-natur'd
With the braue beaſt, so farre he topt me thought,
That I in forgery 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 fame.
Laer. I know him, well he is the brooch indeed

And Iem of all the Nation,

King. He made conſelſion of you,
And gaue you ſuch a maiſterly report
For art and exerciſe in your deſence,
And for your Rapier moſt eſpeciall,
That he cry'd out 't would be a fight indeed

The Tragedy of Hamlet

If one could match you ; the Serimers of their nation
Hefwore had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
If you oppo'd them ; fir this report of his
Did Hamlet so enuenom with his enuy.
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, decre to you ?
Or are you like the painting of a forrowe,
A face without a heart ?

Laer. Why aske you this ?

King. Not that I thinke you did not loue your father,
But that I know, loue is begonne 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 goodnes still,
For goodnes growing to a plurifie,

Dies in his owne too much, that we would doe
We should doe when wee would : for this would changes,
And hath abatements and delayes as many,
As there are tongues, are hands, are accedents,
And then this should be like a spend-thrifts figh,
That hurrs by eating ; but to the quickie of th'vicer,

Hamlet comes back what would you vndertake
To show your selfe indeed your fathers sonne
More then in words ?

Laer. To cut his throat i'th Church-

King. No place indeede should murther sanctuarize,
Reuengde should haue no bounds : but good Laertes
Will you doe this, keepe elose within your chamber
Hamlet return'd, shall know you are come home,
Weeke put on those shall praise your excellence,
And fet a double varnish on the fame

The french man gaue you : bring you in fine together
And wager ore your heads ; he being remiffe,
Most generous, and free from all contriving,

Will

Printe of Denmarke.

Will not peruse the foyles, so that with eafe,
Or with a little shuffling, you may choofe
A sword vnbated, and in a pace ofpraetife,
Requite him for your Father.

Laer. I will doo't,

And for the purpose, Ile annoynt my sword.
I bought an vnction of a Mountibancke
So mortall, that but dippe a knife in it,
Where it drawes blood, no Cataplaine so rare
Collected from all fimples that haue vertue
Under the Moone, can faue the thing from death
That is but scratcht withall, Ile tutch my point
With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly, it may be death.

King. Lets further thinke of this.
Wey what conueiance both of time and meanes
May fit vs to our shape if this should fayle,
And that our drift looke through our bad performance,
I were better not affayd. Therefore this project,
Should haue a backe or second that might hold
If this did blast in proofe; soft let me see,
Wee'le make a sollemne wager on your cunnings,
I hau', when in your motion you are hote and dry,
As make your bouts more violent to that end,
And that he calls for drinke, Ile haue preferd him
A Challice for the once, whereon but fipping,
If he by chance escape your venom'd stucke,
Our purpose may hold there; but stay, what noyse

Enter Queene.

Quee. One woe doth tread vpon anothers heele,
So faft they follow ; your Sifters drownd Laertes.

Laer. Drown'd, O where?

Quee. There is a Willow growes afaunt the Brooke,
That showes his hoary leaues in the glassy streame,
There with fantaftique garlands did she make
Of Crowflowers, Nettles, Dafies, and long Purples
That liberall Shepheards giue a grofter name,
But our cull-cold maydes doe dead mens fingers call them.

There on the pendant boughes her coronet weeds

M

Clambrin

## The Tragedy of Hamlet

Clambring to hang, an evuious fluer broke,
When downe her weedy trophæs and her selfe,
Fell in the weeping Brooke, her clothes spred wide,
And Mermaide-like a while they bore her vp,
Which time she chaunted inatches of old laudes,
As one in capable of her owne diftreffe.
Or like a creature native and indewed
Vnto that element, but long it could not be
Till that her garments heavy with their drinke,
Puld the poore wench from her melodious lay
To muddy death.

Laer. Alas then is she drownd.

Quee. Drownd, drownd.

Lar. Too much of water haft thou poore Ophelia,
And therefore I forbid my teares; but yet
It is our tricke, 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 speeche fire that fainewould blaze,
But that this folly drownes it

Exit.

King. Let's follow Gertrard,

How much I had to doe to calme his rage,
Now teare I this will giue it start againe.
Therefore lets follow.

Exeunt.

## Enter two Clownes.

Clowne. Is she to be buried in Christian buriall, when she wilfully feekes her owne saluation?

Othe. I tell thee she is, therefore make her graue straight, the crowner hath fate on her, and finds it Christian buntall.

Clow. How can that be, vnleffes she drown'd herselfe in her owne defence.

Oth. Why tis found so.

Clow. It must be so offended, it cannot be else, for heere lies the poynt, if I drowne my selfe wittingly, it argues an act, and an act hath three branches, it is to act, to doe, to performe, or all, she drownd her selfe wittingly.

Oth. Nay, but heare you good man deluer.

Clow. Giue me leaue, here lies the water, good, here stands the man,

## Prince of Denmark.

man, good, if the man goe to this water & 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 life.

Oth. But is this law?

Clow. I marry it, Crowners queft law.

Oth. Will you ha the truth an't, if this had not beene a gentlewo-man, she should haue bin buried out a Christian buriall.

Clow. Why there thou sayst, and the more pitty that great solke should haue countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves, more then their euen Christen : Come my spade, there is no auncient 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,

He put another question to thee, if thou answerest me not to the pur-pole, confess thy selfe.

Oth. Goe to.

Clow. what is he that builds stronger then either the Mafon, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter.

Oth. the gallowes-maker, for that out-lies a thousand tennants.

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

Other. Who buildes stronger then a Mafon, a Shipwright, or a Carpenter.

Clow. I, tell me that and vnyoke.

Oth. Marry now I can tell.

Oth. Too't.

Clow. Maffe I cannot tell.

Clow. Cudgell thy braines no more about it, for your dull affe will not mend his pace with beating, and when you are askt this question next, say a graue-maker, the houtes he makes last tell Doomelday.

Goe get thee in and fetch me a slope of liquer.

In youth when I did loue did loue,

Me thought it was very sweet.

To contract O the time for a my behoue,

O me thought there a was nothing a meet.

Song.

The Tragedy of Hamlet

*Enter Hamlet and Horatio.*

Ham. Has this fellow no feeling of his buſines? a ſings in graue-making.

Hora. Cuffome hath made it in him a property of eafines.

Ha. Tis een ſo, the hand of little imploiment hath the daintier ſence

Song.

Clow. But age with his ſtealing ſteppes

hath clawed mee in his clutch,

And hath ſhipped me into the land,

as if I had neuer beene ſuch.

Ham. That skull had a tongue in it, and could ſing once, how the knaue iowles it to the ground, as if twere Caines iaw-bone, that did the firſt murder : this might be ſpate of a politiciá, 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 praifed my lord ſuch a ones horſe whé a ment to beg it: might it not?

Hora. I my Lord.

Ham. Why een ſo, & now my Lady wormes Choples, & knockt about the maz er with a Sextens ſpade ; heer's fine reuolution and we had the trick to ſee't, did theſe bones coſt no more the breeding, but to play at loggits with them : mine ake to thinke ont.

Clow. A pickax and a ſpade a ſpade,

for and a ſhrowding ſheet,

O a pit of Clay for to be made

for ſuch a gueſt is meet.

Ham. There's another, why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? where be his quiddities now, hisquillities, his cafes, his tenurs, & his trickes ? why dooes he ſuffer this mad knaue now to knock him about the ſconce with a durty ſhouell, and will not tell him of his action 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 recoveries, to haue his fine pate full of fine durt : will vouchers vouch him no more of his purchaſes & doubles then the length and breadth of a payre of Indentures? The vety conueyances of his Lands will ſcarilye lye in this box, and muſt th' inheritor himselfe haue no more ? ha.

Hora. Not a iot more my Lord.

Ham. Is not patchment made of sheepe-skinnes ?

Hora.

Prince of Denmark.

Hora. I my Lord, and of Calne-skinnes too.

Ham. They are Sheepe and Calues which ſeeke out affurance in that, I will ſpeake to this fellow. Whofe graue's this firra?

Clow. Mine fir, or a pit of clay for to be made.

Ham. I thinke it be thine indeede for thou lyeſt in't.

Clow. You lye out ont fir, and therefore tis not yours; for my part I doe 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 quicke, therefore thou lyeſt.

Clow. Tis a quicke lye fir, tywill away againe from meto you.

Ham. What man doſt thou digge it for?

Clow. For no man fir.

Ham. What woman then?

Clow. For none neither.

Ham. Who' is to be buried in't?

Clow. One that was a woman fir, but reſt her ſoule ſhee's dead.

Ham. How abſolute the knaue is, we muſt ſpeake by the card, or equiocation will vndoo vs. By the Lord Horatio, this three yeares I haue tooke a note of it, the age is growne ſo picked, that the toe of the pefant comes ſo neere the heele of the Courtier he galls his kybe. How long haſt thou bene a Graue-maker?

Clo. Of the dayes i' thyeare I came too't that day that our laſt King Hamlet ouercame Fortimbraſſe.

Ham. How long is that ſince?

Clo. Cannot you tell that ? every ſoole 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 recover his wits there, or if a doe not, tis no great matter there,

Ham. Why?

(as hee.)

Clow. I will not be ſene in him there, there the are men as mad

Ham. How came he mad?

Clow. Very ſtrangely they ſay,

Ham. How ſtrangely?

Clow. Faith eene with loofing his wits.

Ham. Vpon what ground?

Clow. Why heere in Denmarke : I haue beene Sexton heere man and boy thirty yeares.

M 3

Ham.

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

*Ham.* How long will a man lie i'th earth ere he rot?

*Clow.* Faith if a be not rotten before a die, as we haue many poc-
kie corfes, that will scarce hold the laying in, a will laft you some
eight yeare, or nine yeare. A Tanner will laft you nine yeare,

*Ham.* Why he more then another?

*Clow.* Why fir, his hide is so tand with his trade, that a will keepe
out water a great while; & your water is a fore decayer of your whor-
fon dead body, heer's a full now hath lyen you i'th earth 23. yeares,

*Ham.* Whofe was it?

*Clow.* A whorfon mad fellowes it was, whofe do you think it was?

*Ham.* Nay I know not.

*Clow.* A peſtility on him for a mad rogue, a pourd a flagon of
Renifh on my head once; this fame skull fir, was fir Toricks skull, the
Kings lefter.

*Ham.* This?

*Clow.* Een that.

*Ham.* Alas poore Toricke, I knew him Horatio, a fellow of infinite
ieſt, of moſt excelent fancy, hee hath bore me on his backe a thou-
ſand times, and now how abhorred in my imagination it is: my gorge
riſes at it. Here hung thofe lyppes that I haue kifſt I know not how
oſt where be your gibes now? your gamboles, your ſongs, your fla-
ſhes of merriment, that were wont to fet the table on a roare, not one
now to mocke your owne grinning, quite chopſalne. Now get you
to my Ladies table, and tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this fa-
uour ſhe muſt come, make her laugh at that.

*Prethee Horatio* tell me one thing.

*Hora.* What's that my Lord?

*Ham.* Dooſt thou thinke Alexander lookt a this fashion i'th earth?

*Hora.* Een ſo.

*Ham.* And ſmelt ſo:pah.

*Hora.* Een ſo my Lord.

*Ham.* To what bafe ſpes we may returne Horatio? Why may not
imagination trace the noble duſt of Alexander, till a find it stopping
a bunghole?

*Hora.* Twere to confider too curiously to confider ſo.

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

## Prince of Denmark.

*They not floppie a Beare-barrell?*

*Imperious Caſar dead, and turn'd to Clay,*
*Might floppie a hole, to keepe the wind away.*

*O that that earth which kept the world in awe,*
*Shoult patch a wall to expell the waters flaw.*

*But folt, but folt a while, here comes the King,*
*The Queene, the courtiers, who is this they follow?*

*And with ſuch maimed rites? this doth betoken,*
*The corſe they follow, did with deſprat hand*

*Foredoo it owne life, twas of ſome eſtate,*
*Couch we a while and marke.*

*Laer.* What Ceremony eſſe?

*Ham.* That is Laertes a very noble youth, make.

*Laer.* What Ceremony eſſe?

*Dooſt.* Her obſequies haue beene as farre inlarg'd
As we haue warranty, her death was doubtfull,
And but that great command ore-ſwayes the order,
She ſhould in ground vnſanctified beene lodg'd

Till the laſt trumpet : for charitable prayers,
Flints and peebles ſhould be throwne on her:

Yet heere 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?

*Dooſt.* 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 ſleſh

*May Violets Spring : I tell thee churliſh Prieſt.*

A miniftring Angell ſhall my ſifter be
When thon lyeſt howling.

*Ham.* What, the faire Ophelia.

*Quee.* Sweets to the sweet, farewell,
I hop't thou ſhould't it haue beene my Hamlets wife,
I thought thy bride-bed to haue deckt ſweet maide,
And not haue ſtrew'd thy graue.

*I aer.* O trebble woe

*Enter King Quee, Laertes and the corſe.*

Fall

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Fall tenne times double on that curfed head,
Whose wicked decree thy most ingenious fence
Depruied thee of, hold off the earth a while,
Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes;
Now pile your duft vpon the quicke and dead,
Till of this flat a mountaine you haue made
To retop old Pelion, or the skye's head
Of blew Olympus.

Ham. What is he whose griefe
Beates 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,
Ham. Thou pray'st not well, I prethee take thy fingers
For though I am not spleenatiue rafh, (from my throat,
Yet haue I in me something dangerous,
Which let thy wifedome feare; hold off thy hand?

King. Plucke them a sunder.

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 fumme. 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 doe:
Woo't weepe, woo't fight, woo't saft, woo't teare thy selfe,
Woo't drinke vp Efil, eate a Crocadile
Ile doo't: doo't come heere to whine?
To out-face me with leaping in her graue,
Be buried quicke with her, and so will I,
And if thou prate of mountaines, let them throw
Millions of Acres on vs, till our ground
Sinding his pate against the burning Zone

Make

Prince of Denmark.

Make Offa like a wart, nay and thou'lt mouth,
Ile rant as well as thou.

Quee. This is meere madneſſe,
And this a while the fit will worke on him,
Anon as patient as the female Doe
When that her golden cuplets are diſcloſed
His ſilence will fit drooping.

Ham. Heare you fir,
What is the reaſon that you vſe me thus?
I lou'd you euer, but it is no matter,
Let Hercules himselfe doe what he may
The Cat will mew, a dogge will haue his day.

King. I pray thee good Horatio, waite vpon him.
Strengthen your patience in our last nights ſpeech,
Weele put the matter to the preſent puth:
Good Gertrard get some watch ouer your ſonne,
This graue shall haue a liuing monument,
An houre of quiet thereby ſhall we fee
Tell then in patience our proceeding be,

Exit Hamlet,
and Horatio.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet and Horatio.

Ham. So much for this fir, now ſhall you fee the other,
You doe 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 sleepe, me thought I lay
Worſe then the mutines in the bilbo's, rafhly,
And prayſd be rafhnes for it :let vs know,
Our indiscretion sometime ſerues vs well
When our deepe plots doe fall, and that should leane vs
Ther'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 ſcarſt about me in the darko

Gropt I to find out them, had my deſire,

Fingard their packet, and in fine, with drew

To mine owne roome againe, making so bold

N

My

The Tragedy of Hamlet

My fears forgetting manners to vnfold
Their graund commission; where I found Horatio
A royall knauery, an exact command
Larded with many feuerall forts of reafons,
Importing Danmarkes health, and Englands to,
With hoe such bugges and goblins in my life,
That on the superuife no leaure bated,
No not to stay the grinding of the Axe,
My head should be strooke off.

Hora. I'ft possible?

Ham. Heeres the commission, read it at more leaure,
But wilt thou heare now how I did proceed?

Hora. I befeech you.

Ham. Being thus be-netted round with villaines,
Or I could make a prologue to my braines,
They had begunne the play, I fat me downe,
Deuifd a new committion, wrote it faire,
I once did hold it as our statifts doe
A basenefle to write faire, and labourd much
How to forget that learning, but fir now
It did me yemans feruice, wilt thou know,
Th' effect of what I wrote?

Hora. I good my Lord.

Ham. An earneft coniuration from the King,
As England was his faithfull tributary,
As loue betweene them like the palme might florifh,
As peace should fill her wheaten garland weare
And stand a Comma tweene their amities,
And many such like, as fir of great charge,
That on the view, and knowing of theſe contents,
Without debateament further more or leſſe,
He should those bearers put to ſuddaine death,
Not ſhriuing time alway'd.

Hora. How was this feald?

Ham. Why euen in that was heauen ordiant,
I had my fathers ſignet in my purſe
Which was the model of that Danil ſeale,
Folded the writ vp in the ſorme of th'other,
Subſcrib'd it, gau't th'impression, plac'd it safely,

The

Prince of Denmark.

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 goe too't.

Ham. They are not neere my confidence; their defeat
Dooes by their owne infinuation growe,
Tis dangerous when the bafe r nature comes
Betweene the paffe and fell incenced poynts
Of mighty oppofits.

Hora. Why what a King is this !

Ham. Dooes it not thinke thee ſtand me now vppon?
Hee 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,
Aud with such coinage, i'ft not perſect confidence?

Enter a Courtier.

Cour. Your Lordſnippe is right welcome backe to Denmarke,

Ham. I humbly thanke you fir.

Doo't know this water-fly?

Hora. No my good Lord,

Ham. Thy ſtate is the more gratious, 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, spaci-
ous in the poſſeſſion of dirt.

Cour. Sweet Lord, if your Lordſnippe were at Leaſure, I should
impart a thing to you from his Maieſty.

Ham. I will receiue it fir with all dilligence of ſpirrit, your bonnet to his right vſe, tis for the head.

Cour. I thanke your Lordſhip, it is very hot.

Ham. No beſeue me, tis very cold, the wind is Northerly.

Cour. It is indifferent cold my Lord indeed.

Ham. But yet me thinkes it is very ſoultry and hot, or my com-
plexion.

Cour. Exceedingly my Lord, it is very ſoultry, as t'were I cannot
tell how my Lord his Maieſty bad me ſignifie to you, that a has layed
a great wager on your head, fir this is the matter.

Ham. I beſeech you remember.

Cour. Nay good my Lord for my eafe in good faith, fir here is newly
come to court Laertes, beſeue me an absolute gentlemã, full of moſt
excellent

N 2

excellent

The Tragedy of Hamlet,

excellent differences, of very soft society, and great showing indeede to speake feelingly of him, he is the card or kalender of Gentry : for you shall finde in him the continent of what part a Gentleman would see.

Ham. Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you, though I know to devide him inuentorially, would dizzie th'arithmeticke of memory, and yet but raw neither, in respect of his quick faile, but in the verity of extolment. I take him to be a soule of great article, and his infusion of such dearth and rareneſſe, ns 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 fir, why do wee wrap the Gentleman in our more rawer breath?

Cour. Sir.

Hora. If not poffible to vnderſtand in another tongue, you will doo fir 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 fir,

Cour. I know you are not ignorant.

Ham. I would you did fir, yet in fayth if you did, it would not much approoue me, well fir.

Cour. You are ignorant of what excellence Laertes is

Ham. I dare not conſeſſe that, least I should compare with him in excellence, but to know a man well, were to know him ſelfe.

Cour. I meane fir for this weapon, but in the imputation layd on him by them in his meed, hee's vnſollowed.

Ham. What's his weapon?

Cour. Rapiar and Digger.

Ham. That's two of his weapons, but well.

Cour. The King fir hath waggerd with him ſix Barbary horſes againſt the which he has impaund as I take it ſix french Rapiers and Poynards, with their aſſignes, as girdle, hanger and ſo. Three of the cariages in faith, are very deare to fancy, very reſpouſiue to the hilts, moſt delicate cariages, and of very liberall conceit.

Ham. What call you the cariages?

Hora. I knew you muſt be edified by the margent ere you had done.

Prince of Denmark.

done.

Cour. The carriage fir are the hangers.

Ham. The phrase would be more German to the matter if wee could carry a Cannon by our ſides, I would it might be hangers till then, but on, ſix Barbary horſes againſt ſix french ſwords their aſſignes, and three liberall conceited cariages, that's the French bet againſt the Daniſh, why is this all you call it?

Cour. The King fir, hath laid fir, that in a dozen paffes betweene your ſelfe and him, hee ſhall not exceede you three hits, hee hath layd on twelue for nine, and it would come to immediate tryall, if your Lordſhippe would vouchſaſe the anſwere.

Ham. How if I anſwere no?

Cour. I meane my Lord the oppoſition of your perſon in tryall.

Ham. Sir I will wake here in the hall, If it pleafe his Maieſty, it is the breathing time of day with mee, let the ſoyles be brought, the Gentleman wilinge, and the Kinge hold his purpofe; I will winne 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 fir, after what florish your nature will.

Cour. I commend my duty to your Lordſhippe.

Ham. Yours doo's well to commend it himſelfe, there are no tongues els for's turne.

Hora. This Lapwing runnes away with the ſhell on his head.

Ham. A did ſo fir with his dugge before a fuckt it, thus has he and many more of the fame breede that I know the droſſy age dots on, onely got the tune of the time, and out of an habit of encounter, a kind of maſſy collection, which carryes them through and through the moſt prophane and trennowned opinions, and doe but blowe them to their tryall, the bubbles are out

Enter a Lord.

Lord. My Lord, his Maieſty commended him to you by younge Oſtricke, who brings backe to him that you attend him in the hall, hee ſends to know if your pleafure hold to play with Laerter, or that you will take longer time?

Ham. I am conſtant to my purpofes, they follow the Kings pleaſure, if his ſinſes ſpeakes, mine is ready: now or wheneuer, provided I be ſo able as now.

N 3

I. Lord.

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Lord. The King and Queene and all are comming downe.

Ham. In happy time.

Lord. The Queene defies you to vse some gentle entertainment to Laertes, before you goe to play.

Ham. Shee well instructs me,

Hora. You will looke my Lord.

Ham. I doe not thinke so, since hee went into France, I haue bin in continuall practice, I shall winne at the odds; thou wouldst not thinke how ill all's heere about my heart, but it is no matter.

Hora. Nay good my Lord.

Ham. It is but foolery, but it is such a kinde of game-giuing, as would perhaps trouble a woman.

Hora. If your mind diflike anything, obay it. I will foretall their repaire hether and say you are not fit.

Ham. Not a whit we defie augury, there is speciall prouidence in the fall of a Sparrowe, if it be, tis not to come, if it bee not to come, it will be now, if it bee not now, yet it will come, the readines is all, since no man of ought hee leanes, knowes what ist to leaue betimes, let bee.

A table prepared, Trumpets, Drums and Officers with Buffions, 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 fir, I haue done you wrong, But pardon'c as you are a Gentleman, this prefence knowes, And you muft needs haue heard, how I am punifit With a fore diftraction: what I haue done

That might your nature, honor, and exception Roughly awake I heere proclaime was madnes, Waft Hamlet wronged Laertes? neuer Hamlet, If Hamlet from himfelfe be tane away, And when hee's not himfelfe, doo's wrong Laertes,

Then Hamlet doo's it not, Hamlet denies it, Who does it then ? his madnes. Ift be so,

Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged, His madnesse is poore Hamlets enemie, Let my disclaiming from a purpòd euill,

Free me so farre in your moft generous thoughts That I haue shot my arrowe ore the house

And

Prince of Denmark.

And hurt my brother.

Laer. I am satisfied in nature, Whose motiue in this cafe should stirre me moft To my reuendge, but in my tearmes of honor I stand a looke, and will no reconcilement, Till by some elder Maisters of knowne honor I haue a voyce and president of peace To my name vngor'd: but all that time I doe receiue your offerd loue, like loue, And will not wrong it.

Ham. I embrace it freely, and will this brothers wager franckly play.

Gie 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 mocke me fir.

Ham. No by this hand.

King. Giue them the foiles young Ostracide, cosin Ham. You know the wager,

Hams. Very well my Lord.

Your grace has layde the ods a'th weaker side.

King. I do not feare it, I haue feene you both, But since he is better, we haue therefore ods.

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 floopes of wine vpon the table, If Hamlet giue the firft 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 Onixe shall he throw, Richer then that which foure sucieffue Kings

In Denmarkes Crowne haue worne: giue me the cups,

And let the kettle to the trumpet speake,

The trumpet to the Cannoneere without,

The Cannons to the heauens, the heauens to earth,

Now

The Tragedy of Hamlet

Now the King drinks to Hamlet, come beginne.

And you the judges beare a wary eye.

Ham. Come on fir.

Laer. Come my Lord.

Ham. One.

Laer. No.

Ham. Judgement.

Ofr. A hit, a very palpable hit.

Laer. Well, againe.

King. Stay, give me drinke, Hamlet this pearle is thine.

Drum, trumpets and shot.

Florish, a peeece goes off.

Heeves to thy health, give him the cup.

Ham. Ile play this bout first, set it by a while

Come, another hit. What say you?

Laer. I doe confess.

King. Our sonne shall winne.

Quee. Hee's fat and scant of breath.

Heere Hamlet take my napkin rub thy browes,

The Queene carows 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 poyfned 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. Com for the third Laertes, you doe bus daily.

I pray you paffe with your best violence

I am lure you make a wanton of me.

Laer. Say you so come on.

Ofr. Nothing neither way.

Laer. Haue at you now.

King. Part them, they are incensed.

Ham. Nay come againe.

Ofr. Looke to the Queene there hoe.

Hora. They bleed on both sides, how is it my Lord?

Ofr. Hooft Laeress?

Laer. Why as a woodcock to mine owne sprindege. Ostrick.

Trumpets
the while,

Prince of Denmark.

I am iustly kild with mine owne treachery.

Ham. How does the Queene?

King. She founds to fee them bleed.

Quee. No, no, the drink the drinke, O my deare Hamlet!

The drinke, the drinke, I am poyfned.

Ham. O villanie ! hoe let the dore be lock'r,

Treachery, fecke it out.

Laer. It heere Hamlet, thou art flaine,

No medcin in the world can do thee good,

In thee there is not halfe an hours life,

The treacherous instrument is in my hand

Vnbated and enuenom'd, the foule practice

Hath turn'd it selfe on me, Ioe here I lye

Neuer to rife againe: thy mother's poyfned,

I can no more, the King, the Kings too blame.

Ham. The point enuenom'd to, then venom to thy worke.

All. Treason, treason.

King. O yet defend me friends, I am but hurt.

Ham. Here thou incesitious damned Dane,
Drinke of this potion, is the Onixe heere ?

Follow my mother.

Laer. He is iustly ferued, it is a poyfson temperd by himsefe.

Exchange forgiuenes with me noble Hamlet,
Mine and my fathers death come not vppon thee,

Northine 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 arreft. O I could tell you !

But let it be; Horatio I am dead,

Thou liueth, report me and my caufe aright

To the vnfrsatisfied.

Hora. Neuer beleeue it;

I am more an antike Romane then a Dane,

Heere's yet some liquor left,

Ham. As th'art a man

Gie me the cup, let goe, by heauen Ile hate,

I

O

The Tragedy of Hamlet

O God Horatio ! what a wounded name
Things standing thus vnknowne, shall I haue 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 paine
To tell my story : what warlike noife is this ?

A march a
farre off.

Enter Ofrick.

Ofr. Young Fortinbraffe 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 Fortinbraffe, he has my dying voyce,
So tell him with th'occurants more and leffe
Which haue solicited, the reft is silence.
Hlra. Now cracks a noble heart, good night sweet Prince,
And flight of Angels finge thee to thy reft.
Why dooes the drumme come hether?

Enter Fortinbraffe, with the Embassadors.

Fortin. Where is this fight ?
Hora. What is it you would fee ?
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 haft ftrooke ?
Embas. The fight is dismall
And our affaires from England come too late,
The eares are fenceleſſe that should giue vs hearing,
To tell him his commandement is fulſilld,
That Rofencraus and Guyldenſtirne are dead,
Where ſhould wee haue our thankes ?
Hora. Not from his mouth
Had it th'ability of life to thanke you ;
He neuer gaue commandement for their death ;
But ſince I o iump vpon this bloody question

You

Prince of Denmark.

You from the Pollock wartes, and you from England
Are heere arriued, giue order that theſe bodies
High on a ſtage be placed to the view,
And let mee ſpeake, to th'yet vnknowing wor ld
How theſe things came about; ſo ſhall you heare
Of cruell, bloody and vnnaſtural aſts,
Of accidentall iudgements, cauall ſlaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning, and for no cauſe,
And in this vpſhot, purpofes miſtooke,
Falne on the inuenters heads : all this can I
Truely deliuer.

Fort. Let vs haſt to heare it,
And call the nobleft to the audience,
For me with ſorrow I embrace my fortune,
I haue ſome rights of memory in this kingdome,
Which now to claine my vantage doth inuite me.

Hora. Of that I ſhall haue alſo cauſe to ſpeake,
And from his mouth, whose voyce will draw no more,
But let this fame be p[re]ſently perform'd
Euen while mens mindes are wilde, leaſt more miſchance
On plots and errors happen.

Fort. Let ſoure Captaines
Beare Hamlet like a ſouldier to the ſtage,
For he was likely, had he beene put on,
To haue prooued moſt royall ; and for his paſſage,
The ſouldiers muſique and the right of warre
Speake loudly for him :
Take vp the bodies, ſuch a fight as this,
Becomes the field, but heere ſhowes much amaiffe.
Goe bid the ſouldiers ſhoote.

excell.

FINIS.

O 2