## The Tragedie of Hamlet

Enter King and Polonius.

King. Loue, his affections do not that way tend,
Nor what he spake, though it lackt forme a little,
Was not like madnes, there's something in his foule
Ore which his melancholy fits on brood,
And I doe doubt, the hatch and the discloſe
V.Vill be some danger, which for to preuent,
I haue in quick determination

Thus fet it downe: he shall with ſpeede to England,
For the demaund of our neglected tribute,
Haply the seas, and countries different,
With variable objects, shall expell
This something fetled matter in his hart,
Whereon his brains full beating
Puts him thus from ſaſſion of himselfe.

What thinke you, don't you?

Pol. It shall do well, I hope. How many lives do you think of?
But yet doe I believe the origin and commencement of his greele,
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 please,

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 pla'd (so pleafe you) in the care

Of all their conference, if he find him not,

To England lend him: or confine him where

Your wifedome best thinke.

King. It shall be so,

Madnes in great ones must not vnmatcht goe,

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, and three of the Players.

Ham. Speake the ſpeech I pray you as I pronoun'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue, but if you mouth it as many of our Players do, I had as lue the towne cryet I spoke my lines, nor do not ſaw the ayre too much with your hand thus, but vse all gently, for in the very torrent tempeſt, and as I may ſay, whilwind of your paffion, you muſt acquire and beget a temperance, that may giue it ſmoothneſſe, ôt it offends mee to the ſoule, to heare a robustious perſig-pated fellowe

tunc

## Prince of Denmark.

tere a paffion to totters, to very rags, to ſpleet the eares of the groundlings, who for the moſt part are capable of nothing, but inexplicable dumbe ſhowes, and noyſe: I would haue ſuch a fellow whipt for ore-doing Termagant, it out Herods Herod, pray you auoyd it.

Player. I warrant your honour.

Hamlet. Be not too tame neither, but let your owne discretion be your tutor, ſute the action to the word, the word to the action, with this ſpeciall obſeruance, that you ore-stepping not the modelſt of nature: For anything ſo ore-doone, is from the purpose of playing, whose end both at the first, and noyve, was and is, to holde as twere the Mirrour vp to nature, to ſhow vertue her features, ſcorne her own Image, and the very age and body of the time his forme and preſtute: Now this ouer-done, or come tardie off, though it makes the vnſkilfull laugh, cannot but make the iudicious greeue, the cenſure of which one, muſt in your allowance ore-weigh a whole Theater of others. O there be Players that I haue ſene play, and heard others prayſd, and that highly, not to ſpeake it prouhantly, that neither hauing the accent of Christians, nor the gate of Chriſtian, Pagan, nor man, haue ſo strutted & bellowed, that I haue thought some of Natures Iornimen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanitie ſo abhominably.

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

Ham. O reſorme it altogether, and let that ſo that play your clownes ſpeake no more then is fet downe for them, for there be of them that wil themſelues laugh, to ſet on some quantitie of barraine ſpectators to laugh to, though in the meane time, some neceſſary queſtion of the play be then to be confidered, that's villanous, and ſhewes a moſt pittifull ambition in the fool that vſes it: goe make you readie. How now my Lord, will the King heare this peece of worke?

Enter Polonius, Guyldenſterne, & Rafencraus.

Pol. And the Queene to, and that presently.

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

Rof. I my Lord.

Exeunt they two.

Ham. What howe, Horatio.

Enter Horatio.

Hora. Heere ſweet Lord, at your ſeruice.

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

As ere my converſation copt withall.

Hor. O my deere Lord.

Ham. Nay

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

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 clothe thee, why should the poore be flatterd?
No, let the candied tongue licke abfurd pompe,
And crooke the pregnant hindges of the knee
Where thrift may follow fauning; dooft thou heare,
Since my deare foule was miſtris of her choice,
And could of men diſtinguish her election,
S'hath feald thee for herſelfe, for thou haſt been
As one in ſuffring all that ſuffers nothing,
A man that Fortunes buffets and rewards
Haſt tane with equall thanks; and bleſt are those
Whofe blood and iudgement are ſo well comedled,
That they are not a pype for Fortunes finger
To ſound what ſtop the pleafe: giue me that man
That is not passions ſlaue, and I will weare him
In my harts core, in my hart of hart
As I doe thee. Something too much of this,
There is a play to night before the King,
One ſcene of it comes neere the circumstance
Which I haue told thee of my fathers death,
I prethee when thou ſeest that aſt a foote,
Euen with the very comment of thy ſoule
Obferue my Vncle, if his occulted guilt
Doe not it ſelſe vnikennill in one ſpeech,
It is a damned ghost that we haue ſeene,
And my imaginations are as ſoule
As Vulcans ſtithy; giue him heedfull note,
For I mine eyes will riuet to his face,
And after we will both our iudgements ioyne
In cenſure of his ſeeming.
Hor. Well my lord,
If a ſteale ought the whilſt this play is playing
And ſcape detected, I will pay the theft.

Enter Trumpets and Kettle Drummes, King, Queene,
Polonius, Ophelia.

Ham. They are comming to the play. I muſt be idle,

Get

## Prince of Denmark.

Get you a place.
King. How fares our colin Hamlet?
Ham. Excellent yfaith,
Of the Camelions diſh; I eate the ayre,
Promiscrám'd, you cannot feede Capons ſo,
King. I haue nothing with this aunſwer Hamlet,
Thele words are not mine.
Ham. No, nor mine now my Lord.
You playd once i'th Vniuerſitie you ſay,
Pol. That did I my Lord, and was accounted a good Aſtor,
Ham. What did you enaſt?
Pol. I did enaſt Iulius Cæsar, I was kild i'th Capitall,
Brutus kild mee.
Ham. It was a brute part of him to kill ſo capitall a calfe there,
Be the Players readie?
Ref. I my Lord, they ſlay vpony our patience,
Ger. Come hether my deere Hamlet, ſit by me.
Ham. No good mother, heere's mettle more attractiue.
Pol. O ho, doe you marke that.
Ham. Lady ſhall I lie in your lap?
Ophe. No my Lord.
Ham. Doe you thinke I meant country matters?
Opb. I thinke nothing my Lord.
Ham. That's a fayre thought to lye betweene maydes legs.
Opb. What is my Lord?
Ham. Nothing.
Opb. You are merry my Lord.
Ham. Who I?
Opb. I my Lord.

Ham. O God your onely ligge-maker, what ſhould a man do but
be merry, for looke you how cheerefully my mother looks, and my
father died within's two howres.
Opb. Nay, tis twice two months my Lord.
Ham. So long, nay then let the deule weare blacke, for Ile haue a
ſute of ſables; ô heauens, die two months agoe, and not forgotten yet,
then there's hope a great mans memorie may out-live his life halſe a
yeere, but ber Lady a muſt build Churches then, or els ſhall a ſuffer
not thinking on, with the Hobby-horſe, whose Epitaph is, for ô, for
ô, the hobby-horſe is forgot,

H.

Enter

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

The Trumpets founds. Dumbe show follower.
The Tragedie of Hamlet

Enter a King and a Queene, the Queene embracing him, and he her, he takes her up, and declines his head upon her necke, he lies him downe upon a banke of flowers, she seeing him asleepe, leanes him: anon come in an other man, takes off his crewne, kisses it, pours poyson in the sleepers eares, and leanes him: the Queene returnes, finds the King dead, makes passionate action, the poyner with some three or foure come in againe, seeme to conclude with her, the dead body is carried away, the poyner wooes the Queene with gifts, shee seemes karsh awhile, but in the end accepts loue.

Oph. What meanes this my Lord?

Ham. Marry this munching Mallico, it meanes mitchiefe.

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.

Oph. Will a tell vs what this show meant?

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

Oph. You are naught, you are naught, Ile mark 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?

Oph. Tis brieſe my Lord.

Ham. As womans loue.

Enter King and Queene.

King. Full thirtie times hath Phebus cart gone round

Neptunes salt wash, and Tellus or'd the ground,
And thirtie dofen Moones with borrowed ſhene.

About the world haue times twelve thirties beeome

Since loue our harts, and Hymen did our hands

Vnite comutuall in moſt ſacred bands.

Quee. So many iourneyes may the Sunne and Moone

Make vs againe count ore ere loue be doone,

But woe is me, you are ſo ſicke of late,

So farre from cheere, and from our former ſlate,

That I diſtruſt you, yet though I diſtruſt,

Diſcomfort you my Lord it nothing muſt.

For

## Prince of Denmark.

For women ſeare too much, euen as they loue,
And womens ſeare and loue hold quantitie,
Eyther none, in neither ought, or in extremie,
Now what my Lord is proofe hath made you know,

And as my loue is ciz'd, my ſeare is ſo,

Where loue is great, the little ſt doubts are ſeare,

Where little ſeares grow great, great loue growes there.

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

And thou ſhalt liue in this faire world behind,

Honord, belou'd, and haply one as kind,

For husband ſhalt thou.

Quee. O confound the 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 mone
Are base reſpects of thrift, but none of loue,

A ſecond time I kill my husband dead,

When ſecond husband kisses me in bed.

King. I doe belieue you thinke what now you ſpeake,
But what we doe determine, oft we breake,

Purpose is but the ſlau to memorie,

Of violent birth, but poore validitie,

Which now the fruite vnripe flicks 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 purpose loſe,

The violence of eyther, grieſe, or ioy,

Their owne ennaſures with them ſelues deſtroy,

Where ioy moſt reuels, grieſe doth moſt lament,

Grieſe 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 els fortune loue.

The great man downe, you marke his fauourite flyes,

Ham. That's

wormwood

H 2

The

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

The poore aduaunc'd, makes friends of enemies,
And hetherto doth loue on fortune tend,
For who not needes, shall neuer lacke a friend,
And who in want a hollow friend doth try,
Dire etly leafons him his enemy.
But orderly to end where I begunne,
Our wills and fates doe so contrary runne,
That our deuifes still are ouerthrowne,
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our owne,
So thinke thou wilt no secon'd 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 me day and night,
To delueration turne my truſt and hope,
And Anchors cheere in prifon be my ſope,
Each oppoſite that blancks the face of joy,
Meete what I would haue well, and it deſtroy,
Both heere and hence putſue me laſting ſtrife,
If once I be a widow, euer I be a wife,
Ham. If the ſhould breake it now.

King. Tis deeply fworne, ſweet leaue me heere a while,
My ſpirits grow dull, and faire I would beguile
The tedious day with ſleepe.

Quee. Sleepe rock thy braine,
And neuer come miſchance betweene vs twaine. Exeunt.

Ham. Madam, how like you this play ?

Quee. The Lady doth proteſt too much mee thinks.

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 doe you call the play ?

Ham. The Mouſetrap, mary how tropically, this play is the Image
of a murther doone in Vienna, Gonzago is the Dukes name, his wife
Baptiſta, you ſhall fee anon, tis a knauiſh peeece of worke, but what of
that ? your Maieſtie, and wee that haue free foules, it touches vs not,
let the gauled Iade winch, our withers are vnwrong. This is one Lu-
cianus, 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 puppets 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 worſe.

Ham. So you miſlake your husbands. Beginne murtherer, leaue
thy damnable faces and begin, come, the croking Rauen doth bellow
for reuence.

Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugges fit, and time agreeing,
Confiderat leaſon els no creature ſeeing,

Thou mixture ranck, of midnight weedes collected,
V Vith Hecats ban thrice blaſted, thrice inueſted,

Thy naturall magiſce, and dire property,

On wholſome life vſurps 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 rifes.

Quee. How fares my Lord?

Pol. Giue ore the play.

King. Giue me ſome light, away.

Pol. Lights, lights, lights.

Exeunt all but Ham. & Horatio.

Ham. Why let the STrooken Deere goe sleepe,

The Hart vngauled play,

For ſome muſt watch while ſome muſt sleepe,

Thus runnès the world away. Would not this fir & a forreſt of ſea-
thers, if the reſt of my fortunes turne Turk with me, with provinciall

Rofes on my raz'd ſhooes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players ?

Hora. Halſe a ſhare.

Ham. A whole one I.

For thou dooſt know oh Damon deere

This Realme diſmantled was

Of Ioue himſelſe, and now raignes heere

A very very paiock.

Hora. You might haue rym'd.

Ham. O good Horatio, Ile take the Ghoſts word for a thousand
pound. Did it perceiue ?

Hora. Very well my Lord.

Ham. Vpon the talke of the poyſing.

Hor. 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 Comedie,
Why then belike he likes it not perdy.
Come, some musique.

Enter Rofencraus and Gryldensterne.

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

Ham. Sir a whole historie.

Guyl. The King fir.

Ham. I fir, what of him ?

Guyl. Is in his retirement meruilous diflempred.

Ham. With drinke fir ?

Guyl. No my Lord, with choller,

Ham. Your wifedome should shewe it selfe more richer to signifie
this to the Doctor, for, for mee to put him to his purgation, would
perhaps plunge him into more choller.

Guyl. Good my Lord, put your discourse into some frame,
And flare not so wildly from my affaire.

Ham. I am tame fir, pronounce.

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

Ham. You are welcome.

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

Ham. Sir I cannot.

Rof. What my Lord.

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

Rof. Then thus ſhe fayes, your behauiour hath flrooke her into a-
mazement and admiration.

Ham. O wonderful ſonne that can ſon ſoninſh a mother, but is there
no ſequell at the heeles of this mothers admiration, impart.

Rof. She deſires to ſpeak with you in her cloſet ere you go to bed.

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

Rof. My Lord, you once did loue me.

Ham. And doe still by theſe pickers and ſcalers.

Rof.

## Prince of Denmark.

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

Ham. Sir I lacke aduancement.

Rof. How can that be, when you haue the voyce of the King him-
ſelſe for your ſucceſſion in Denmarke.

Enter the Players with Recorders.

Ham. I fir, but while the graſſe growes, the prouerbe is ſomething
muſty, ô the Recorders, let mee ſee one, to withdraw with you, why
doe you goe about to recouer the wind of mee, as if you would drive
me into a toyle ?

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

Ham. I do not wel vnderſtand that, wil you play vpon this pipe?

Guyl. My lord I cannot.

Ham. I pray you.

Guyl. Beleeue me I cannot.

Ham. I doe beſeech you.

Guyl. I know no touch of it my Lord.

Ham. It is as eſtie as lying; gourner theſe venages with your ſin-
gers, & the vmber, giue it breath with your mouth, & it wil diſcoursſe
moſt eloquent muſique, looke you, theſe are the ſtops.

Guil. But theſe cannot I commaund to any vittrance of harmonie, I
haue not the skill.

Ham. Why looke you now how vnwoorthy a thing you make of
me, you would play vpon mee, you would ſeeme to know my ſtops,
you would plucke out the hart of my miſlery, you would ſound mee
from my loweſt note to my compaſſe, and there is much muſique ex-
cellent voyce in this little organ, yet cannot you make it ſpeak, s'bloud
do you think I am eſtier to be plaid on then a pipe, call mee what in-
ſtrument you wil, though you fret me not, you cannot play vpon me.
God bleſſe you fir.

Enter Polonius.

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

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

Pol. By this maffe and tis, like a Camell indeed.

Ham. Mee thinks it is like a Wezell,

Pol. It is backt like a Wezell.

Ham. Or like a Whale.

Pol. 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 & by,
Leaue me friends.
I will, fay so. By and by is easily faid,
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 buſines as the bitter day
Would quake to looke on: soft, now to my mother,
O hart loofe not thy nature, let not euer
The foule of Nero enter this firme boſome,
Let me be cruell, not vnnatural,
I will ſpeake dagger to her, but vſe none,
My tongue and foule in this be hypocrites,
How in my words ſomeuer ſhe be ſhent,
To giue them ſeales neuer my foule content.
Exit.

### Enter King, Rosencraus, and Guydenſterne.

King. I like him not, nor stands it ſafe with vs
To let his madnes range, therefore prepare you,
I your commiſſion will forth-with dispatch,
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.

Guyl. We will our ſelues prouide,
Moſt holy and religious ſeare it is
To keepe those many many bodies ſafe
That hue and feede vpon your Maieſtie.

Ros. The ſingle and peculiar life is bound
With all the ſtrength 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 cefſe of Maieſtie
Dies not alone; but like a gulſe doth draw
What's neere it, with it, or it is a mafſie wheelc
Fixt on the ſomner of the highest mount,
To whose hough ſpokes, tenne thouſand leſſer things
Are morteſt and adioynd, which when it falls,

Each

## Prince of Denmark.

Each ſmall annexment petty conſequence
Attends the boſtrous raine, neuer alone
Did the King ſigh, but a generall groane.

King. Arme you I pray you to this ſpeedy viage,
For we will fetters put about this ſeare
Which now goes too free-footed.

Ros. We will haſt vs. Excuse Cent.

### Enter Polonius.

Pol. My Lord, hee's going to his mothers cloſer,
Behind the Arras I'le conway my ſelfe
To heare the proceſſe, I'le warrant ſhee'letax him home,
And as you fayd, and wifely was it ſayd,
Tis meete that ſome more audience then a mother,
Since nature makes them parcellall, ſhould ore-heare
The ſpeech of vantage; farre you well my Leige,
I'le call vpon you ere you goe to bed.

And tell you what I knowe.

Exit.

King. Thankes deere my Lord.
O my offence is ranck, it ſmels to heauen,
It hath the primall eldeſt curſe vppont,
A brothers murther, pray can I not,
Though inclination be as ſharp as will,
My ſtronger guilt defeats my ſtrong entent,
And like a man to double buſines bound,
I ſtand in paſue where I ſhall firſt beginne,
And both negleft, what if this curſed hand
Were thicker then it ſelfe with brothers blood,
Is there not raine enough in the sweete Heauen
To waſh it white as ſnowe; whereto ſerues mercy
But to confront the viſage of offence?

And what's in prayer but this two fold ſorce,
To be foreſtalled ere we come to fall,
Or pardon being downe, then I'le looke vp.
My fault is paſt, but oh what forme of prayer
Can ſerue my turne, forgiue me my ſoule murther,
That cannot be ſince I am ſtill poſſeſt
Of thate effects for which I did the murther;
My Crowne, mine owne ambition, and my Queene;

I.

May

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

May one be pardond and retaine th'offence?
In the corrupted currents of this world,
Offences gilded hand may showe by injustice,
And oft is seene the wicked prize it selfe
Buyes out the lawe, but tis not so aboue,
There is no shuffling, there the action lies
In his true nature, and we our selues compeld
Euen to the teeth and forhead 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, ô boſome blacke as death,
O limed foule, that struggling to be free,
Art more engaged; helpe Angels make affay,
Bowe ftubborne knees, and hart with strings of steel,
Be soft as finnewes of the new borne babe,
All may be well.

Enter Hamlet.

Ham. Now might I do it, but now a is a praying;
And now I doe't, 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 tooke my father grotty full of bread,
With all his crimes braod 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 ſealond for his paſſage,
No.
Vp ſword, and knowe thou a more horrid hent,
When he is drunke, a sleepe, or in his rage,
Or in th'ineſtious pleasure 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 heels may kick at heauen,
And that his ſoule may be as damnd and black,
As hell whereto it goes; my mother ſtaies,
This phisick but prolongs thy sickly daies.
Exit.
King. My words fly vp, my thoughts remaine belowe
Words without thoughts neuer to heauen goe.
Exit.

Enter Gertrud and Polonius.

Pol. A will come ſtrait, looke you lay home to him,
Tell him his prancks haue beene too braod to beare with,
And that your grace hath ſcreend and ſtood betweene
Much heate and him, Ile ſilence me euen heree,
Pray you be round.

Enter Hamlet.

Ger. Ile wait you, feare me not,
With-drawe, 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 anſwere 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 let those to you that can ſpeake.
Ham. Come, come, and ſit you downe, you shall not boudge,
You goe not till I ſet you vp a glaſſe
Where you may fee the molſt part of you.
Ger. What wilt thou doe, thou wilt not murther me,
Helpe how.
Pol. What how helpe.
Ham. How now, a Rat, dead for a Duckat, dead.
Pol. O I am ſlaine.
Ger. O me, what haſt thou done?
Ham. Nay I knowe not, is it the King?

I2

Ger.

## The Tragedie 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 farwell,
I tooke thee for thy better, take thy fortune,
Thou find it to be too bufie is some danger,
Leaue wringing of your hands, peace fit you downe,
And let me wring your hart, for so I shall
If it be made of penitrable fluffe,
If damned custome haue not braf'd it so,
That it be proofe and bulwark againft fence.

Ger. What haue I done, that thou dar'st wagge thy tongue
In noife so rude againft me?

Ham. Such an aft

That blurres the grace and blush of modesty,
Cals vertue hippocrit, takes of the Rose
From the faire torhead of an innocent loue,
And sets a blister there, makes marriage vowes
As falfe as dicers oathes, ô such a deede,
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very foule, and sweet religion makes
A raptfedy of words; heauens face dooes glowe
Ore this solidity and compound maffe
With heated visage, as againſt the doome

Is thought ſick at the aft

Quee. Ay me, what aft?

Ham. That roares so low'd, and thunders in the Index,
Looke heere vpon this Picture, and on this,
The counterfeit preſentment of two brothers,
See what a grace was feated on this browe,
Hiperions curles, the front of Ioue himſelfe,
An eye like Maw, to threaten and command,
A ſtation like the herald Mercury,
New lighted on a heave, a kifſing hill,
A combination, and a forme indeede,
Where euery God did ſeeme to ſet his ſeale
To giue the world aſſurance 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 who! some brother, haue you eyes,
Could you on this faire mountaine leaue to feede,
And batten 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 waits vppon the iudgement, and what iudgement
Would ſtep from this to this, ſence ſure you haue
Els could you not haue motion, but ſure that ſence
Is appoplext, for madneſſe would not erre
Nor ſence to extacie was nere ſo thral'd
But it reſeru'd some quantity of choife
To ſerue in ſuch a difference, what deuill waſt
That thus hath coſund you at hodman blind;
Eyes without feeling, feeling without ſight,
Eares without hands, or eyes, ſmelling ſance all,
Or but a ſickly part of one true ſence
Could not ſo mope: ô ſhame where is thy bluſh?
Rebellious hell,
If thou canſt mutine in a Matrons bones,
To flaming youth let vertue be as wax
And melt in her owne fire, proclaime no ſhame
When the compulsiue ardure giues the charge,
Since froſt it ſelfe as actively doth burne,
And reaſon pardons will.

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

Ham. Nay but to liue
In the ranck ſweat of an inſeemed bed
Stewed in corruption, honying, and making loue
Ouer the naſſy ſtie.

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

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

Of

13

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Of your precedent Lord, a vice of Kings,
A cut-purse of the Empire and the rule,
That from a shelfe the precious Diaden hole
And put it in his pocket.

Ger. No more.

Enter Ghost.

Ham. A King of shreds and patches,
Saue me and houer ore me with your wings
You heavenly gards: what would your gracious figure?

Ger. Alas hee's mad.

Ham. Doe you not come your tardy sonne to chide,
That lap'ft in time and paſsion lets goe by
Th'important action of your dread command, ô lay.

Ghost. Doe not for get, this viſitation

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

Ham. How is it with you, Lady ?

Ger. Alas how it with you ?

That you doe bend your eye on vacancie,
And with th'incorporall ayre doe hold diſcourse,

Footh at your eyes your ſpirits wildly peep,
And as the sleeping ſouldiers in th'alarme,

Your bedded haire like life in excrements

Start vp and ſtand an end, ô gentle ſonne

Vpon the heat 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 caufe conioynd, 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 cullour, teares perchance for blood.

Ger. To whom doe you ſpeake this ?

Ham. Doe you ſee nothing there ?

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

Ham. Nor did you nothing heare ?

Ger. No nothing but our ſelues.

Prince of Denmark.

Ham. Why looke you there, looke how it ſteales away,
My father in his habit as he liued,

Looke where he goes, euen now out at the portall.

Ger. This is the very coynage of your braine,

This bodilſſe creation extacie is very cunning in.

Ham. My pulſe as yours doth temperatly keepe time,
And makes as healthfull muſicke, it is not madneſſe

That I haue vttred, bring me to the teſt,

And the matter will reword, which madneſſe

Would gambole from, moſher for loue of grace,

Lay not that flattering vnſion to your ſoule

That not your trefpalle but my madneſſe ſpeakes,

It will but skin and filme the vicerous place

Whiles ranck corruption mining all within

Infects vnſeene, 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, forgiue me this my vertue,

For in the fatneſſe of theſe purſie times

Vertue it ſelfe of vice muſt pardon beg,

Yea curbe and wooe for leaue to doe him good.

Ger. O Hamlet thou haſt cleft my hart in twaine.

Ham. O throwe away the worſer part of it,

And leaue the purer with the other haſſe,

Good night, but goe not to my Vncles bed,

Allune a vertue if you haue it not,

That monster cuſtome, who all ſerice doth eate

Of habits deuill, is angell yet in this

That to the vſe of actions faire and good,

He likewife giues a frock or Liuery

That aptly is put on to refraine night,

And that ſhall lend a kind of eafines

To the next abſtinence, the next more eafie:

For vſe almost can change the stamp of nature,

And either the deuill, or throwe him out

With wonderous potency: once more good night,

And when you are defiſous to be bleſt,

I bleſſing beg of you, for this fame Lord

I doe repent; but heauen hath pleaſd it so.

Exit Ghost.

To

H Ham.

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

To punish me with this, and this with me,
That I must be their scourge and minister,
I will be bestowe 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 worse remaines behind.
One word more good Lady.

Ger. What shall I doe?

Ham. Not this by no means that I bid you doe,
Let the blowt King temp't you againe to bed,
Pinch wanton on your cheeke, call you his Moufè,
And let him for a paire of reechie killes,
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, t'were good you let him knowe,
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 fence 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 fayd to me.

Ham. I muſt to England, you knowe that.

Ger. Alack I had forgot.

Tis so concluded on.

Ham. Ther's letter ſeald, and my two Schoolefellowes,
Whom I will trust as I will Adders ſang'd,
They beare the mandat, they muſt ſweep 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 blowe them at the Moone : ô tis moſt weete
When in one line two crafts directly meete,

This

## Prince of Denmark.

This man shall let me packing,
Ile lugge the guts into the neighbour roome;
Mother good night indeed, this Counfayler
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.

Eenter King, and Queene, with Rasencraus
and Guydensterne.

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

Ger. Beſtow this place on vs a little while.
Ah mine owne Lord, what haue I ſene to night?

King. What Gertrard, how does Hamlet?

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

King. O heauy deede !
It had beene so with vs had wee beene there,
His libertie is full of threatens to all,
To you your ſelſe, to vs, to euery 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 haunts,
This mad young man; but so much was our loue,
We would not vnderland what was moſt fit,
But like the owner of a ſoule diſeafe
To keepe it from divulging, let it feede
Euen on the pith of life : where is he gone?

Ger. To draw apart the body he hath kild,
Ore whom, his very madnes like a ſome ore.
Among a minerall of mettals bafe,
Showes it ſelſe pure, a weepet for what is done.

King. O Gertrard, come away,

K.

The

The Tragedie of Hamlet

The funne no sooner shall the mountaines touch,
But we will ship him hence, and this vile deede
We must with all our Maiestie and skill
Enter Ros. & Guild.
Both countenaunce and excuse. Ho Guyldensterne,
Friends both, goe ioyne you with some further ayde,
Hamlet in madnes hath Polonius flatne,
And from his mothers closet hath he dreg'd him,
Goe seeke him out, speake fayre, and bring the body
Into the Chappell; I pray you haft in this,
Come Gertrard, wee'le call vp our wifes left friends,
And let them know both what we meane to doe
And whates vntimely doone;
Whose whisper ore the worlds dyameter,
As leuell as the Cannon to his blanck,
Transports his poyfied shot, may misle our Name,
And hit the woundlesse ayre, to come away,
My soule is full of difford and dismay.
Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, Rosencraus, and others:

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

Ros. What haue you doone my Lord with the dead body?

Ham. Compound it with dust where to his kin.

Ros. Tell vs where tis that we may take it thence,
And beare it to the Chappell.

Ham. Doe not beleeue it,

Ros. Beleeue what.

Ham. That I can keepe your counfaile & not mine owne, beides
to be demaunded of a spunge, what replyation should be made by
the fonne of a King.

Ros. Take you me for a spunge my Lord?

Ham. I fir, that fokes vp the Kings countenaunce, his rewards, his
authorities, but fuch Officers doe the King belt seruice in the end; he
keepes them like an apple in the corner of his iaw, firſt mouth'd to be
laid ſwallowed, when hee needs what you haue gleand, it is but ſque-
ſing you, and ſpunge you ſhall be dry againe.

Ros. I vnderland you not my Lord.

Ham. I am glad of it, a knauiſh (speech) ſleepes in a fooliſh care.

Ros. My Lord, you muſt tell vs where the body is, and goe 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 loose,
Yet muſt not we put the strong Law on him,
Hee's lou'd of the diſtraſted multitude,
VVho 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 easy.
This ſuddaine ſending him away muſt ſeeue.
Deliberate paufe, diſeases desperat growne,
By desperat applyance are relieu'd
Or not at all.

Enter Rosencraus and all the rest.

King. How now, what hath beſine?

Ros. Where the dead body is beſtowd my Lord
V VVe cannot get from him.

King. But where is hee?

Ros. Without my lord, guarded to know your pleasure.

King. Bring him before vs.

Ros. How, bring in the Lord. They enter.

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 onely
Emperour for dyet, we fat all creatures els to, fat vs, and wee 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. Alas, alas.

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

King. King. What dooth thou meane by this?

Ham. Nothing but to ſhow you how a King may goe a progrefſe
through

K 2

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

through the guts of a begger.

King. Where is Polonius?

Ham. In heauen, send thether to see, if your messenger finde him not thre, seeke him in other place your selfe, but if indeed you find him not within this month, you shall noſe him as you goe vp the stayres into the Lobby.

King. Goe seeke him there.

Ham. A will stay till you come.

King. Hamlet this deede for thine especially safety

Which we do tender, as we deereely grieue

For that which thou haſt done, muſt I ſend thee hence,

Therefore prepare thy selfe,

The Barck is ready, and the wind at helpes,

Th' affociats tend, and euery thing is bent

For England.

Ham. For England.

King. I Hamlet.

Ham. Good.

King. So is it if thou knew'st it our purpofes.

Ham. I fee a Cherub that fees the, but come for England,

Farewell deere Mother.

King. Thy louing Father Hamlet.

Ham. My mother, Father and Mother is a man and wife,
Man and wife is one felfh, to my mother:

Come for England. Exit.

King. Follow him at foote,

Tempt him with ſpeede abord,

Delay it not, Ile haue him hence to night.

Away, for euery thing is feal and done.

That els leanes on th' affayre, pray you make haſt,

And England, if my loue thou hold'st at ought,

As my great power thereof may give thee ſence,

Since yet thy Cacatrice looks raw and red,

After the Danil ſword, and thy free awe

Payes homage to vs, thou mayſt not coldly ſet

Our loueraigne procettie, which imports at full
By Letters congruing to that effect

The prefent death of Hamlet, does it England,

For like the Electrique in my blood he rages,

And

## Prince of Denmark.

And thou muſt cure me; till I know this done,
How ere my haps, my ioyes will nere begin.

Exit.

Enter Fortinbrasse with his Army ouer the Stage.

Fortin. Goe Captaine, from me greet the Danish King,
Tell him, that by his lycence Fortinbrasse
Craues the conueyance of a promide march
Ouer his kingdome, you know the randeuous,
If that his Maiestie would ought with vs,
We shall expreſſe our dutie in his eye,
And let him know so.

Cap. I will doo't my Lord.

For. Goe softly on.

Enter Hamlet, Rosencraus, &c.

Ham. Good fir whose powers are theſe?

Cap. They are of Norway fir.

Ham. How purpof'd fir I pray you?

Cap. Againſt ſome part of Poland,

Ham. Who commaunds them fir?

Cap. The Nephew to old Norway, Fortenbrasse.

Ham. Goes it againſt the maine of Poland fir,

Or for ſome frontire?

Cap. Truly to ſpeake, and with no addition,
We goe to gaine a little patch of ground

That hath in it no profit but the name

To pay ſue duckets, ſue I would not farme it

Nor will it yeeld to Norway or the Pole

A rancker rate, should it be ſold in fee.

Ham. Why then the Pollacke neuer will defend it.

Cap. Yes, it is already garifond.

Ham. Two thouſand ſoules, & twenty thouſand duckets
Vill not debate the queſtion of this ſraw,

This is th' Impoſtume of much wealth and peace,

That inward breakes, and ſhowes no caufe without

Why the man dies. I humbly thanke you fir.

Cap. God buy you fir.

Ref. Wil't please you goe my Lord?

Ham. Ile be with you ſtraight, goe a little before.
How all occasions doc infor me againſt me,

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 sleepe and feede, a beaſt, no more:
Sure he that made vs with such large discouer
Looking before and after, gaue vs not
That capabilitie and god-like reaſon
To fuſt in vs vnſold, now whether it be
Beſtall obliuion, or ſome crauen ſeruple
Of thinking too preciſely on th'event,
A thought which quarterd hath but one part wifedom,
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 will, 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,
Whose ſpirit with diuine ambition puſt,
Makes mouthes at the inviſible euent,
Expoſing what is mortall, and vnſure,
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare,
Euen for an Egge-shell. Rightly to be great,
Is not to ſtirre without great argument,
But greatly to find quartrell in a Draſ.
When honour's at the ſtake, how ſtand I then
That haue a father kild, a mother staind,
Excytements 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 tombe enough and continent
To hide the ſlaine, ô 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.

Gent. Shee is important.

Indeede diſtraſt, her moode will needes be pittied.

Lyue.

Prince of Denmark.

Quee. What would ſhe haue?

Gent. She ſpeakes much of her father, ſayes ſhe heares
There's tricks i'th world, and hems, and beates her hart,
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 her wincks, and nods, and geſtures yeeld them,
Indeede would make one thinke there might be thought
Though nothing ſure, yet much vnhappily.

Hora. Twere good ſhe were ſpoken with, for ſhee 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 amiſſe,
So full of artſeſſe ialleouſe is guilt,

'It ſpills it ſelfe, in fearing to be ſpylt.

Oph. Where is the beautious Maieſlie of Denmark?

Quee. How now Ophelia?

Slee ſings.

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

Quee. Alas ſweet Lady, what imports this ſong?

Oph. Say you, nay pray you marke,

He is dead & gone Lady, he is dead and gone,

Song.

At his head a graſgreene turph, at his heeles a ſtone.
O ho.

Quee. Nay but Ophelia.

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

Enter King.

Quee. Alas looke heere my Lord.

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

Song.

King. How doe you pretty Lady?

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

King.

The Tragedie of Hamlet

King. Conceit vpon her Father.

Oph. Pray lets haue no words of this, but when they aske you
what it meanse, say you this.

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

Song.

Then vp he rose, and dond his close, and dupt the chamber doore,
Let in the maide, that out a maide, neuer departed more.

King. Pretty Ophelia.

Oph. Indee de without an oath Ile make an end on't,

By gis and by Saint Charitie,
alack and sie for shame,

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

Quoth she, Before you tumbled me, you promis'd me to wed,
(He answers.) So would I a 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 in cold ground, my brother shall know of it, and so I thanke you for your good counsail. Come my Coach, God night Ladies, god night.

Sweet Ladies god night, god night.

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

O this is the poyson of deepe griefe, it Springs all from her Fathers
death, and now behold, ô Gertrard, Gertrard,

When sorrowes come, they come not single fpyes,
But in battalions: first her Father slaine,

Next, your fonne gorie, and he most violent Author

Of his owne iust remoue, the people muddied

Thick and vnwholſome in thoughts, and whispers

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,

VVithout the which we are pictures, or moore beaſts,

Laſt, and as much contayning as all these,

Her brother is in ſecret come from Fraunce,

Feeds on this wonder, keepes himſelfe in clowdes,

And

Prince of Denmark.

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

Wherein neceſſity of matter beggerd,
Will nothing ſtick our perſon to arraigne

In eare and eare: ô my deare Gertrard, this
Like to a murdring peece in many places

Gives me ſuperfluous death.

A noife within.

Enter a Messenger.

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

Messer. Saue your ſelfe my Lord,
The Ocean ouer-peering of his lift
Eates not the flats with more impitious haſt

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

And as the world were now but to beginne,

Antiquity forgot, cuſtome not knowne,

The ratifiers and props of euery word,

The cry hooſe we, Laertes shall be King,

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

Laertes shall be King, Laertes King.

Quee. How cheerefully on the falſe traile they cry. A noife 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 me leaue.

All. VV e will, we will.

Laer. I thanke you, keepe the doore, ô thou vile King,
Giuſe me my father.

Quee. Calmely good Laertes.

Laer. That drop of blood that calme proclames me Baſtard,
Cries産old to my father, brands the Harlot

Euen heere betweene the chaſt vnſmirched browe

Of my true mother.

King. VV hat is the cauſe Laertes

That thy rebellion lookes ſo gyant like ?

L.

Let

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Let him goe Gertrard, doe not feare our person,
There's luch diuinitie doth hedge a King,
That treason can but peepe to what it would,
Act'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, I'll not be jugled with,
To hell allegiance, vowes to the blackest devil,
Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit
I dare damnation, to this poynt I stand,
That both the worlds I giue to negligence,
Let come what comes, onely I'll be reueng'd
Most throughly for my father.

King. Who shall flay you?

Laer. My will, not all the worlds:
And for my meanes Ile husband them so well,
They shall goe farre with little.
King. Good Laertes, if you desire to know the certainty
Of your deere Father, it's writ in your revenge,
That loopstake, 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'll ope my arms,
And like the kind life-rendring Pelican,
Repast them with my blood.

King. Why now you speake
Like a good child, and a true Gentleman.
That I am guiltlesse of your fathers death,
And am most fencibly in griefe for it,
It shall as leuell to your iudgement peare

As day does to your eye.

A noye within.

Enter Ophelia.

Laer. Let her come in.

How now, what noye is that?

Prince of Denmark.

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

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

Song.

Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst perſwade reuenge
It could not moove thus.

Oph. You muſt ſing a downe a downe,
And you call him a downe a. O how the wheele becomes it,
It is the falſe Steward that ſlole his Maſters daughter.

Laer. This nothing's more then matter.

Oph. There's Rofemary, that's for remembrance, pray you loue remember, 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 Dafic, 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.

Laer. Thought and afflictions, paſſion, hell it ſelfe
She turnes to ſauour and to prettines.

Oph. And wil a not come againe,
And wil a not come againe,
No, no, he is dead, goe to thy death bed,
He neuer will come againe,

Song.

His heard was as white as snow,
Flaxen was his pole,
He is gone, he is gone, and we caſt away mone,
God a mercy on his foule, and of all Chriflians foules,
God buy you.

Laer. Doe you this ô God.

King. Laertes, I muſt commune with your griefe,
Or you deny me right, goe but apart,

Le

Make

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

Make choice of whom your wifest friends you will,
And they shall heare and judge twixt you and me,
If by direct, or by colaturall hand
They find vs toucht, we will our kingdome giue,
Our crowne, our life, and all that we call ours
To you in satisfaction; but if not,
Be you content to lend your patience to vs,
And we shall ioyntly labour with your foule
To giue it due content.

Laer. Let this be so.

His meanes of death, his obscure funerall,
No trophe sword, nor hatchment ore his bones,
No noble right, nor formall oftentation,
Cry to be heard as twere from heauen to earth,
That I must call in queſtion,

King. So you shall,

And where th'offence is, let the great axe fall.

I pray you goe with me.

Exeunt.

Enter Horatio and others.

Hora. What are they that would fpeake with me?

Gent. Sea-faring men fir, they lay they haue Letters for you.

Hor. 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 please him, there's a Letter for you fir, it came from th'Embaffador that was bound for England, if your name be Horatio, as I am let to know it is.

Hor. Horatio, when thou shalt haue ouer-lookt this, giue theſe fel-
lowſome meanes to the King, they haue Letters for him: Ere wee
were two dates old at Sea, a Pyrat of very warlike appointment gane
vs chafe, finding our ſelues too flow of ſaile, wee put on a compelled
valour, and in the grapple I boorded them, on the instant they got
cleere of our ſhyp, ſo I alone became their prifoner, they haue dealt
with me like thieues of mercie, 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 me with as much ſpeede as thou wouldeſt ſie death,
I haue wordes to ſpeake in thine eare will 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, Rofencraut and Gwyldenſterne hold theyr
courſe for England, of them I haue much to tell thee, farewell.

So that thou knowest thine Hamlet.

Hor. Come I will you way for theſe your letters,
And doo't the ſpeedier that you may direct me
To him from whom you brought them.

Exeunt.

Enter King and Laertes.

King. Now muſt your confidence my acquittance ſaſe,
And you muſt put me in your hart for friend,
Sith you haue heard and with a knowing eare,
That he which hath your noble father ſlaigne
Purſued my life.

Laer. It well appears : but tell mee
Why you proceede not againſt theſe ſeates
So criminall and ſo capitall in nature,
As by your ſaſetie, greatnes, widdome, all things els
You mainly were ſtru'd vp.

King. O for two ſpeciall reaſons
Which may to you perhaps ſeeme much vnſinnow'd,
But yet to mee thatr ſtrong, the Queene his mother
Lives almoſt by his lookes, and for my ſelfe,
My vertue or my plague, be it eyther which,
She is ſo concluie to my life and ſoule,
That as the ſlarr'e 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 theyr affection,
Worke like the ſpring that turneth wood to ſtone,
Conuert his Guies to graces, ſo that my arrowes
Too flightly tymberd for ſo loued Arm'd,
Would haue reuerted to my bowe againe,
But not where I haue aym'd them.

Lier. And ſo haue I a noble father loſt,
A ſiſter driuen into deſprat termes,

Whose worth, if prayſes may goe backe againe:

L 3

Stood

The Tragedie 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 fluffe so flat and dull,
That we can let our beard be shooke with danger,
And thinke it pastime, you shortly shall heare more,
I loued your father, and we loue our selfe.
And that I hope will teach you to imagine.

Enter a Messenger with Letters.

Meffen. These to your Maitieſt, this to the Queene;

King. From Hamlet, who brought them?

Meff. Saylers my Lord they lay, I saw them not,
They were giuen me by Claudio, he receiued them
Of him that brought them.

King. Laertes you shall heare them: leaue vs.
High and mighty, you shall know I am set naked on your kingdom,
to morrow shall I begge leaue to see your kingly eyes, when I shall first
asking you pardon, there-vnto recount the occasion of my fuddaine
returne.

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

Laer. Know you the hand ?

King. Tis Hamlets carafter. Naked,
And in a poſtscript heere he ſayes alone,
Can you deuife me?

Laer. I am loft in it my Lord, but let him come,
It warmes the very ſicknes in my hart
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, to you will not ore rule me to a peace.
King. To thine owne peace, if he be now returned
As the King at his voyage, and that he meanes
No more to vnderrake it, I will worke him
To an employt, now ripe in my deuife,
Vnder the which he shall not choose but fall :

And

Prince of Denmark.

And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe,
But euen his Mother shall vncharge the practice,
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 talkt of since your trauaile much,
And that in Hamlets hearing, for a qualitie
Wherein they lay you ſhine, your ſumme of parts
Did not together plucke such enuie from him
As did that one, and that in my regard
Of the vnworthieſt ſiedge.

Laer. What part is that my Lord?

King. A very ribaud in the cap of youth,
Yet needfull to, for youth no leſſe becomes
The light and careleſſe liuery that it weares
Then ſetled age, his ſables, and his weedes
Importing health and grauenes; two months since
Heere was a gentleman of Normandy,
I haue ſene my ſelfe, and ſeru'd againſt the French,
And they can well on horsebacke, 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'ſt, and demy natur'd
With the braue beaſt, to ſarre he topr me thought,
That I in forgerie of ſhapes and tricks
Come ſhort of what he did.

Laer. A Norman waſt ?

King. A Norman.

Laer. Vppon 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 conſeſion of you,
And gaue you ſuch a masterly report
For art and exercise in your defence,
And for your Rapier moſt eſpeciall,
That he cride out t'would be a ſight indeed

IT

The Tragedie of Hamlet

If one could match you, the Scrimures of their nation
He were had neither motion, guard, nor eye,
If you oppofed them, fir this report of his
Did Hamlet so enuennom with his enuy,
That he could nothing doe 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 deare to you ?
Or are you like the painting of a sorrowe,
A face without a hart ?

Laer. Why aske you this ?

King. Nor that I thinke you did not loue your father,
But that I knowe, loue is begunne by time,
And that I see in paſſages of proofe,
Time qualifies the ſparke and fire of it,
There lues within the very flame of loue
A kind of weeke or ſnufe that will abate it,
And nothing is at a like goodnes ſtill,
For goodnes growing to a plutifie,
Dies in his owne too much, that we would doe
We should doe when we 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 thirfts ſigh,
That hurts by eating ; but to the quick of th' ulcer,
Hamlet comes back, what would you vndertake
To ſhowe your ſelfe indeede your fathers ſonne
More then in words ?

Laer. To cut his throat i'th Church.

King. No place indeede should murther fanctuarife,
Reuendge should haue no bounds : but good Laertes
Will you doe this, keepe close within your chamber,
Hamlet return'd, shall knowe you are come home,
Weele put on those shall praishe your excellence,
And set a double varnish on the fame

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

Will

Prince of Denmark.

Will not perſufe the foyles, so that with eafe,
Or with a little fluffling, you may choose
A ſword vnbated, and in a pace of prauſe
Requite him for your Father.

Laer. I will doo't,

And for purpofe, Ile annoynt my ſword,
I bought an vnſtition of a Mountibanck
So mortall, that but dippe a knife in it,
Where it drawes blood, no Cataplasme so rare,
Collected from all ſimples that haue vertue
Under the Moone, can faue the thing from death
That is butSCRATCT 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 conuenience both of time and means
May fit vs to our ſhape if this ſhould ſayle,
And that our drift looke through our bad performance,
I were better not aſſayd, therefore this project,
Should haue a back or ſecond that might hold
If this did blaſt in proofe; ſoft let me fee,
Wee'le make a ſolemne wager on your cunnings,
I hate, when in your motion you are hore and dry,
As make your bouts more violent to that end,
And that he calls for drinke, Ile haue prefard him
A Challice for the nonce, whereon but ſipping,
If he by chaunce eſcape your venom'd ſtuck,
Our purpofe may hold there; but ſtay, what noyſe?

Enter Queene.

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

Laer. Drown'd, ô where ?

Quee. There is a Willow growes aſcaunt the Brooke
That ſhowes his horry leaues in the glaſſy ſtreame,
Therewith ſantaſtique garlands did he make
Of Crowflowers, Nettles, Daſes, and long Purples
That liberall Shepheards giue a groſſer name,
But our cull-cold may des doe dead mens fingers call them.
There on the pendant boughes her cronet weedes

M.

Clambring

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

Clambring to hang, an enuious fluer broke,
When downe her weedy trophies and her felfe
Fell in the weeping Brooke, her clothes spred wide,
And Marmaide like awhile they bore her vp,
Which time she chaunted snatches of old laudes,
As one incapable of her owne distreffe,
Or like a creature natüe and indewed
Vnto that elament, but long it could not be
Till that her garments heauy with theyr drinke,
Puld the poore wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.

Laer. Alas, then she is drownd.

Quoe. Drownd, drownd.

Laer. Too much of water haſt thou poore Ophelias,
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. A diew my Lord,
I haue a ſpeech a fire that faine would blafe,
But that this folly drownes it.

Exit.

King. Let's follow Gertrard,
How much I had to doe to calme his rage,
Now ſeare I this will giue it ſtart againe,
Therefore lets follow.

Exeunt.

### Enter two Clownes.

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

Other. I tell thee she is, therfore make her graue ſtraight, the crowner hath ſate on her, and finds it Chriſtian buriall.

Clowne. How can that be, vnleſſe she drown'd herſelfe in her owne defence,

Other. Why tis found so.

Clowne. It muſt be so offended, it cannot be els, for heere lyes the poynt, if I drowne my ſelfe wittingly, it argues an aſt, & an aſt hath three branches, it is to aſt, to doe, to performe, or all; ſhe drownd her ſelfe wittingly,

Other. Nay, but heare you good man deluer.

Clowne. Giue mee leaue, here lyes 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, nil he, he goes, marke you that, but if the water come to him, & drowne him, he drownes not himſelfe, argall, he that is not guilty of his owne death, ſhortens not his owne life.

Other. But is this law?

Clowne. I marry it, Crowners queſt law.

Other. Will you ha the truth an't, if this had not beene a gentlewo man, ſhe ſhould haue been buried out a chriſtian buriall.

Clowne. Why there thou ſayſt, and the more pity that great folke ſhould haue countnaunce in this world to drowne or hang theſelues, more then theyr euen Chriſten : Come my ſpade, there is no auci ent gentlemen but Gardners, Ditchers, and Grauemakers, they hold vp Adams profession.

Other. Was he a gentleman ?

Clowne. A was the firſt that euer bore Armes.

Ile put another queſtion to thee, if thou anſwerest me not to the pur poſe, confefle thy ſelfe.

Other. Go to.

Clow. What is he that builds ſtronger then eyther the Maſon, the Shypwright, or the Carpenter.

Other. The gallowes maker, for that out-lines a thouſand tenants.

Clowne. I like thy wit well in good ſayth, the gallowes dooes well, but howe dooes it well ? It dooes well to thofe that do ill, nowe thou dooſt ill to ſay the gallowes is built ſtronger then the Church, argall, the gallowes may doo well to thee. Too't againe, come.

Other. V Vho buildes ſtronger then a Maſon, a Shipwright, or a Carpenter.

Clowne. I, tell me that and vnyoke.

Other. Marry now I can tell,

Clowne. Too't.

Other. Maſſe I cannot tell.

Clow. Cudgell thy braines no more about it, for your dull aſſe wil not mend his pace with beating, and when you are askt this queſtion next, ſay a graue-maker, the houſes hee makes laſts till Doomeſday. Goe get thee in, and fetch mee a ſoope of liquer.

In youth when I did loue did loue,

Song.

Me thought it was very ſweet

To contract ô the time for a my behoue,

O me thought there a was nothing a meet.

M 2.

Enter

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

Enter Hamlet and Horatio.

Ham. Has this fellowe no feeling of his busines? a fings in graue-making.

Hora. Custome hath made it in him a propertie of easines.

Ham. Tis een fo, the hand of little imploiment hath the dintier fence

Clow. But age with his fealing fleppes

hath clawed me in his clutch,

And hath fhipped me into the land,
as if I had neuer been fuch.

Song.

Ham. That skull had a tongue in it, and could fing once, how the knaue iowles it to the ground, as if twere Caines iawbone, that did the firſt murder, this might be the pate of a politician, which this affe 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 sweet lord,
how dooſt thou sweet lord? This might be my Lord ſuch a one, that
prais'd my lord ſuch a ones horſe when a went to beg it, might it not?

Her. I my Lord.

Ham. Why een fo, & now my Lady wormes Chuples, & knockt about the maffene with a Sextens ſpade; heere's fine reuolution and we had the tricke to fee't, did theſe bones coſt no more the breeding, but to play at loggits with them: mine ake to thinke on't.

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.

Song.

Ham. There's another, why may not that be the skull of a Lawyer,
where be his quiddities now, his quillites, his cafes, his tenurs, and his
tricks? why dooes he ſuffer this madde knaue now to knocke him a-
bout the ſconce with a durtie ſhouell, and will not tell him of his acti-
on of battery, hum, this fellowe might be in's time a great buyer of
Land, with his Staturs, his recognifances, his fines, his double vou-
chers, his recoueries, to haue his fine pate full of fine durt, will vou-
chers vouch him no more of his purchafes & doubles then the length
and breadth of a payre of Indentures? The very conueyances of his
Lands will ſcarcely lye in this box, & muſt th'inheritor himselfe haue
no more, ha.

Hora. Not aiot more my Lord.

Ham. Is not Parchment made of theepe-skinnes?

Hora,

## Prince of Denmark.

Hora. I my Lord, and of Calues-skinnes to.

Ham. They are Sheepe and Calues which ſeeke out affurance in that, I will ſpeak 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 lie out ont fir, and therefore tis not yours; for my part I
doe not lie in't, yet it is mine.

Ham. Thou dooſt lie in't to be in't & ſay it is thine, tis for the dead,
not for the quicke, therefore thou lyeſt.

Clow. Tis a quicke lye fir, twill away againe from me to you.

Ham. What man dooſt 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 equiuocation will vndoo vs. By the Lord Horatio, this three yeeres I haue tooke note of it, the age is growne ſo picked, that the toe of the pefant coms ſo neere the heele of the Courtier he galls his kybe. How long haſt thou been Graue-maker?

Clow. Of the dayes i'th yere I came too't that day that our laſt king

Hamlet ouercame Fortenbraſſe.

Ham. How long is that ſince?

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

Ham. I marry, why was he ſent into England?

Clow. Why becauſe a was mad: a ſhall recouer his wits there, or if a doo not, tis no great matter there.

Ham. Why?

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

Ham. How came he mad?

(as hee.)

Clow. Very ſtrangely they ſay.

Ham. How ſtrangely?

Clow. Fayth eene with loofing his wits.

Ham. Vpon what ground?

Clow. Why heere in Denmarke: I haue been Sexten heere man and boy thirty yeeres.

M 3

Ham.

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

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

*Clow.* Fayth 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 tom eygh-
ycere, or nine ycere. A Tanner will laft you nine ycere.

*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 scull now hath lyen you i'th earth 23. yeeres.

*Ham.* Whofe was it?

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

*Ham.* Nay I know not.

*Clow.* A pefilence on him for a madde rogue, a pourd a flagon of
Renish on my head once; this fame skull fir, was fir *Yorickes* skull, the
Kings Iefter.

*Ham.* This?

*Clow.* Een that.

*Ham.* Alas poore *Yoricke*, I knew him *Horatio*, a fellow of infinite
ieft, of most excellent fancie, hee hath bore me on his backe a thou-
land times, and now how abhorred in my imagination it is: my gorge
rifes at it. Heere hung thofe lyppes that I haue kist I know not howe
oft, where be your gibes now? your gamboles, your songs, your fla-
fhes of merriment, that were wont to fet the table on a roare, not one
now to mocke your owne grinning, quite chopfalne. Now get you
to my Ladies table, & tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this fa-
uour she muft come, make her laugh at that.

*Prethee* *Horatio* tell me one thing.

*Hora.* What's that my Lord?

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

*Hora.* Een so.

*Ham.* And fmelt so pah.

*Hora.* Een so my Lord.

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

*Hor.* I were to consider too curiously to consider so.

*Ham.* No faith, not a iot, but to follow him thether with modelly
enough, and likelyhood to leade it. Alexander dyed, Alexander was
buried, Alexander returneth to duft, the duft is earth, of earth vvee
make Lome, & why of that Lome whereto he was converted, might
they

## Prince of Denmark.

they not floppe a Beare-barrell?

*Imperious Cefar* dead, and turn'd to Clay,
Might floppe a hole, to keepe the wind away.
O that that earth which kept the world in awe,
Should patch a wall t'expell the waters flaw.

But soft, but soft awhiele, here comes the King.
The Queene, the Courtiers, who is this they follow?

And with such maimed rites? this doth betoken,
The corfe they follow, did with defprat hand

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

*Laer.* What Ceremonie els?

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

*Laer.* What Ceremonie els?

*Doſt.* Her obſequies haue been as farre inlarg'd

As we haue warrantie, her death was doubtfull,
And but that great commaund ore-fwayes the order,
She should in ground vnſanctified been 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?

*Doſt.* No more be doone.

We should prophane the ſervice of the dead,
To ſing a Requiem and ſuch reſt to her

Asto peace-parted ſoules.

*Laer.* Lay her i'th earth,
And from her faire and vnpolluted fleſh
May Violets spring: I tell thee churliſh Priefſ,

A miniftring Angell ſhall my ſilter be
When thou lyeſt howling.

*Ham.* What, the faire Ophelia.

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

*Laer.* O treble woc

Enter K. Q.
*Laertes and*
*the corſe.*

Fall

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Fall tenne times double on that curled head,
Whose wicked deede 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 Pèlion, or the skye of head
Of blew Olympus.

Ham. What is he whose griefe
Beares such an emphesis, whose phrase of sorrow
Coniures the wandring stars, and makes them stand
Like wonder wounded hearers: this is I
Hamlet the Dane.

Laer. The deuill take thy foule.

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 wisedome feare; hold off thy hand,
King. Pluck them a sunder.

Quee. Hamlet, Hamlet.

All. Gentlemen.

Hora. Geod 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 loued Ophelia, forty thousand brothers
Could not with all their quantitie 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'owt doe:
Woo't weepe, woo't fight, woo't falſt, woo't teare thy ſelſe,
Woo't drinke vp Eſill, eate a Crocadile?
Ile doo't, dooſt 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 Off a like a wart, nay and thou'lt mouthe,
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 Doue
When that her golden cuplets are diſcloſed
His filence 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 Horcules himſelfe doe what he may

The Cat will mew, and Dogge will haue his day. Exit Hamlet

King. I pray thee good Horatio waite vpon him.
Strengthen your patience in our last nights ſpeech,
Weele put the matter to the preſent pufh :

Good Gertrard let some watch ouer your ſonne,
This graue ſhall haue a liuing monument,
An houre of quiet thirtie ſhall we ſee

Tell then in patience our proceeding be.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet and Horatio.

Ham. So much for this fir, now ſhall you ſee the other,
You doe remember all the circumſtance.

Hora. Remember it my Lord.

Ham. Sir in my hart there was a kind of fighting
That would not let me sleepe, my thought I lay
Worſe then the mutines in the bilbo, rafhly,
And prayſd be rafhnes for it: let vs knowe,
Our indiscretion ſometime ſerues vs well
When our deepe plots doe pall, & that ſhould learne 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 darke
Groſt 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 Tragedie of Hamlet

My feares 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 goblines in my life,
That on the superuile no leaure bated,
No not to stay the grinding of the Axe,
My head should be strooke off.

*Horatio.* I'ft possible ?

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

*Horatio.* I beſeech you.

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

*Horatio.* I good my Lord.

*Ham.* An earneſt coniuration from the King,
As England was his faithfull tributary,
As loue betweene them like the palme might florifſh,
As peace, should ſtill 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 debatement further more or leſſe,
He ſhould thofe bearers put to ſuddaine death,
Not ſhriuing time alow'd.

*Horatio.* How was this ſeald ?

*Ham.* Why euen in that was heauen ordinant,
I had my fathers ſignet in my purſe
Which was the modill of that Daniſh ſeale,
Folded the writ vp in the forme of th'other,
Subscribe it, gau't th'imprefſion, plac'd it safely,

The

Prince of Danmarke.

The changling neuer knowne: now the next day
Was our Sea fight, and what to this was ſequent
Thou knoweſt already.

*Horatio.* So Guyldenſterne and Rofencraus goe too't.

*Ham.* They are not neere my conſcience, their defeat
Dooes by their owne infinnuation growe,
Tis dangerous when the bafe r nature comes
Betweene the paffe and fell incenced points
Of mighty oppofits.

*Horatio.* Why what a King is this !

*Ham.* Dooes it not thinke thee ſtand me now vppon?
He that hath kild my King, and whor'd my mother,
Pop't in betweene th' election and my hopes,
Throwne out his Angle for my proper life,
And with such cuſnage, i'ft not perſect conſcience ?

*Enter a CourIER.*

*Courier.* Your Lordſhip is right welcome backe to Danmarke.

*Ham.* I humble thank you fir.

*Dooſt know this water fly ?*

*Horatio.* No my good Lord.

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

*Courier.* Sweete Lord, if your Lordſhippe were at leaſure, I ſhould
impart a thing to you from his Maiestie.

*Ham.* I will receaue it fir withall diligence of ſpirit, your bonnet
to his right vſe, tis for the head.

*Courier.* I thank your Lordſhip, it is very hot.

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

*Courier.* It is indefferent cold my Lord indeed.

*Ham.* But yet me thinkes it is very fully and hot, or my complec-
tion.

*Courier.* Exceedingly my Lord, it is very ſoultery, as t'were I can-
not tell how: my Lord his Maiestie 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.

*Courier.* Nay good my Lord for my eafe in good faith, fir here is newly
com to Court Laertes, belieue me an absolute gentlemen, ful of moſt

N2

excellent

## The Tragedie of Hamlet

excellent differences, of very soft society, and great showing; indeed to speake sellingly of him, hee is the card or kalender of gen-
try: for you shall find in him the continent of what part a Gentle-
man would see.

Ham. Sir, his definement suffers no perdition in you, though I know to deuide him inuentorially, would dose th'arithmeticke of memory, and yet but yaw neither in respect of his quick faile, but in the veritie of extollment, I take him to be a soule of great article, & his infusion of such dearth and rareneſſe, as to make true dixion of him, his ſemblable is his mirrour, & who els would trace him, his vmbrage, nothing more.

Cour. Your Lordship ſpeakes most infallibly of him.

Ham. The concernancy fir, why doe we wrap the gentleman in our more rawer breath?

Cour. Sir.

Hora. Ift not poffible to vnderstand in another tongue, you will too't 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 faith if you did, it would not much approoue me, well fir.

Cour. You are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is.

Ham. I dare not confefſe that, leaſt I should compare with him in excellence, but to know a man wel, were to knowe himſelfe.

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

Ham. What's his weapon?

Cour. Rapier and Dagger.

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

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

Ham. What call you the carriages?

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

## Prince of Denmark.

done.

Cour. The carriage fir are the hangers.

Ham. The phrase would bee more Ierman to the matter if wee could carry a cannon by our ſides, I would it be hangers till then, but on, ſix Barbry horſes againſt ſix French ſwords their aſsignes, and three liberall conceited carriages, that's the French bet a-gainſt the Danifh, why is this all you call it?

Cour. The King fir, hath layd 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 triall, if your Lordſhippe would vouchſaſe the anſwere.

Ham. How it I anſwere no?

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

Ham. Sir I will walke heere in the hall, if it pleafe his Maieſtie, it is the breathing time of day with me, let the foiles be brought, the Gentleman willing, and the King 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 Lordſhip.

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 fir with his dugge before a fuckt it, thus has he and many more of the fame breede that I know the droſſy age dotes on, only got the tune of the time, and out of an habit of encounter, a kind of hifty colection, which carries them through and through the most prophane and trennowed opinions, and doe but blowe them to their triall, the bubbles are out.

Enter a Lord.

Lord. My Lord, his Maieſtie commended him to you by young Oſhricke, who brings backe to him that you attend him in the hall, he ſends to know if your pleafure hold to play with Laertes, or that you will take longer time?

Ham. I am conſtant to my purpofes, they followe the Kings plea-
fure, if his fitnes ſpeakes, mine is ready: now or when ſo euer, pro-
tuided I be ſo able as now.

N3

Lord.

The Tragedie of Hamlet

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

Ham. In happy time.

Lord. The Queene defires you to vse some gentle entertainment to Laertes, before you fall to play.

Ham. Shee well instructs me.

Hora. You will loose my Lord.

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

Hora. Nay good my Lord.

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

Hora. If your minde dislike any thing, obay it. I will forfal their repaire hether, and say you are not fit.

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

A table prepard, Trumpets, Drums and officers with Cuffions,
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't as you are a gentleman, this prefence knowes,
And you muft needs haue heard, how I am punnifht
With a fore diftraftion, what I haue done
That might your nature, honor, and exception
Roughly awake, I heare proclame was madneſſe,
Waſt Hamlet wronged Laertes? neuer Hamlet.
If Hamlet from himſelfe be tane away,
And when hee's not himſelfe, dooes wrong Laertes,
Then Hamlet dooes it not, Hamlet denies it,
Who dooes it then : his madneſſe. Iſt be so,
Hamlet is of the faction that is wronged,
His madneſſe is poore Hamlets enime,
Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd euill,
Free me ſo farre in your moſt 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,
Whole moſtie in this caſe, ſhould ſtirre me moſt
To my reuendge, but in my tearmes of honor
I ſtand a looſe, and will no reconcilement,
Till by ſome elder Maiſters of knowne honor
I haue a voyce and preſident of peace
To my name vngord: but all that time
I doe receaue your offerd loue, like loue,
And will not wrong it.

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

Giuę vs the foiles.

Laer. Come, one for me.

Ham. Ile be your foile Laertes, in mine ignorance
Your skill shall like a ſtarre'th darkest night
Stick ſiery of indeed.

Laer. You mocke me fir.

Ham. No by this hand.

King. Giue them the foiles young Oſtricke, colin Hamlet,
You knowe the wager.

Ham. Very well my Lord.

Your grace has layed the ods a'th weeker ſide.

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

Laer. This is to heauy: let me fee another.

Ham. This likes me well, theſe foiles haue all a length.

Oſtr. I my good Lord.

King. Set me the stoopes of wine vpon that table,
If Hamlet giue the firſt or ſecond hit,
Or quit in anſwere of the third exchange,
Let all the battlements their ordnance ſire.

The King ſhall drinke to Hamlets better breath,
And in the cup an Vnice ſhall he throwe,
Richer then that which ſoure ſuccesſiue 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 heauen to earth,

Now

The Tragedie of Hamlet

Now the King drinkes to Hamlet, come beginne.

Trumpets
the while,

And you the Iudges beare a wary eye.

Ham. Come on fir.

Laer. Come my Lord.

Ham. One.

Laer. No.

Ham. Iudgement.

Ostrich. A hit, a very palpable hit.

Drum, trumpets and floor.

Laer. Well, againe.

Florish, a peice goes off.

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

Heeres to thy health : giue him the cup.

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

Come, another hit.

What ſay you ?

Laer. I doe confess.

King. Our ſonne shall winne.

Quee. Hee's fat and ſcant of breath.

Heere Hamlet take my napkin rub thy brows,

The Queene carowſes to thy fortune Hamlet.

Ham. Good Madam.

King. Gertrayd doe not drinke.

Quee. I will my Lord, I pray you pardon me.

King. It is the poyſned cup, it is too late.

Ham. I dare not drinke yet Madam, by and by.

Quee. Come, let me wipe thy face.

Laer. My Lord, Ile hit him now.

King. I doe not think't.

Laer. And yet it is almost againſt my conſcience.

Ham. Come for the third Laertes, you doe but dally.

I pray you paffe with your beſt violence

I am ſure you make a wanton of me.

Laer. Say you ſo, come on.

Oſhr. Nothing neither way.

Laer. Haue at you now.

King. Part them, they are incenſt.

Ham. Nay come againe.

Oſhr. Looke to the Queene there howe.

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

Oſhr. How iſt Laertes ?

Laer. Why as a woodcock to mine owne ſprindge Oſtrick,

Prince of Denmark.

I am iſtly kild with mine owne treachery.

Lan. How dooes the Queene ?

King. Shee ſounds to ſee them bleed.

Quee. No, no, the drinke, the drinke, ô my deare Hamlet,

The drinke the drinke, I am poyſned.

Ham. O villanie, how let the doore be lock't,
Treachery, ſeeke it out.

Laer. It is heere Hamlet, thou art ſlaine,
No medcin in the world can doe thee good,
In thee there is not halſe an houres life,

The treacherous inſtrument is in my hand
Vnbated and enuenom'd, the ſoule practice

Hath turn'd it ſelſe on me, loe heere I lie

Neuer to rife againe, thy mother's poyſned,

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

Ham. The point inuenom'd to, then venome to thy worke.

All. Treason, treason.

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

Ham. Heare thou inceſtious damned Dane,

Drinke of this potion, is the Onixe heere?

Follow my mother.

Laer. He is iſtly ſerued, it is a poyſon temperd by himſelfe,

Exchange forgiueneſſe with me noble Hamlet,

Mine and my fathers death come not vppon thee,

Nor thine on me.

Ham. Heauen make thee free of it, I follow thee ;

I am dead Horatio, wretched Queene adiew.

You that looke pale, and tremble at this chance,

That are but mutes, or audience to this aſt,

Had I but time, as this fell ſergeant Death

Is ſtrict in his arreſt, ô I could tell you,

But let it be ; Horatio I am dead,

Thou liueth, report me and my cauſe a right

To the vnſatisfied.

Hra. Neuer belieue it ;

I am more an anticke Romaine then a Dane,

Heere's yet ſome liquer left.

Ham. As th'art a man

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

O.

O

The Tragedie of Hamlet

O god Horatio, what a wounded name
Things standing thus vnknowne, shall I leaue behind me?
If thou didst euer hold me in thy hart,
Absent thee from felicity a while,
And in this harsh world drawe thy breath in paine
To tell my story : what warlike noife is this?

A march a
farre off.

Enter Ofrick.

Ofr. Young Fortenbraffe with conquest come from Poland,
To th'embassadors of England giues this warlike volly.

Hun. O I die Horatio,

The potent poyson quite ore-crowes my fpirit,
I cannot lue to heare the newes from England,
But I doe prophecie th'ellection lights
On Fortinbraffe, he has my dying voyce,
So tell him, with th'occurrants more and lesse
Which haue solicited, the rest is silence.

Hra. Now cracks a noble hart, good night Sweete Prince,
And flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest.
Why dooes the drum come hether?

Enter Fortenbraffe, with the Embassadors.

For. Where is this fight?

Hra. What is it you would see?

Ifought of woe, or wonder, ceaſe your ſearch.
For. This quarry cries on hauock, ô prou'd death
What feaſt is toward in thine eternall cell,
That thou so many Princes at a flot
So bloudily haſt flrook?

Embaf. The fight is diſmal

And our affaires from England come too late,
The eares are ſenceleſſe that ſhould giue vs hearing,
To tell him his commandment is ſuſſild,
That Rosencrus and Guyldenſterne are dead,
Where ſhould we haue our thankes?

Hra. Not from his mouth
Had it th'ability of life to thank you;
He neuer gaue commandement for their death;
But ſince to jump vpon this bloody queſtion

You

Prince of Denmark.

You from the Pollack warres, and you from England
Are heere arriued, giue order that theſe bodies
High on a ſtage be placed to the view,
And let me ſpeake, to yet vnknowing world
How theſe things came about; ſo shall you heare
Of carnall, bloody and vnnatural acts,
Of accidentall iudgements, cauall ſlaughters,
Of deaths put on by cunning, and for no cauſe
And in this vpſhot, purpòſes miſlooke,
Falne on th'inuenters heads : all this can I
Truly deliuer.

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

Hra. Of that I ſhall haue alſo cauſe to ſpeake,
And from his mouth, whose voyce will drawe no more,
But let this fame be prefently perform'd
Euen while mens mindes are wilde, leaſt more miſchance
On plots and errores happen.

For. 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 muſicke 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 amife.

Goe bid the ſouldiers ſhoote.

Excunt.

FINIS.

G2