Imágenes de páginas
[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

pray you?

Cap. Against some part of Poland.

Commands them, sir?

Cap. The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras. Ham. Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, Or for some frontier?


Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,
Which is not tomb enough, and continent,
To hide the slain?-O, from this time forth,
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth. [Ex.
SCENE V.-Elsinore. A room in the castle.
Enter Queen and Horatio.


To do't. Examples, gross as earth, exhort me:
Witness, this army of such mass, and charge,
Led by a delicate and tender prince;
Whose spirit, with divine ambition puff'd,
Makes mouths at the invisible event;
Exposing what is mortal, and unsure,
To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare,
Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great,
Is, not to stir without great argument;
But greatly to find quarrel in a straw,
When honour's at the stake. How stand I then,
That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,
Excitements of my reason, and my blood,
And let all sleep? while, my shame, I see
The imminent death of twenty thousand men,
That, for a fantasy, and trick of fame,
Go to their graves like beds; fight for a plot

[blocks in formation]

Queen. -I will not speak with her.
Hor. She is importunate; indeed, distract;
Her mood will needs be pitied.
What would she have?
Hor. She speaks much of her father; says, she

There's tricks i'the world; and hems, and beats
her heart;

Cap Truly to speak, sir, and with no addition,
We go to gain a little patch of ground,
That hath in it no profit but the name.
To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;
Nor will it yield to Norway, or the Pole,
A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.


Indeed would make one think, there might be

Will not debate the question of this straw:
This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace:

Ham. Why, then the Polack3 never will defend it. Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.
Queen. 'Twere good she were spoken with; for
Cap. Yes, 'tis already garrison'd.
she may strew
Ham. Two thousand souls, and twenty thousand
Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds:
Let her come in.
[Exit Horatio.
To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,
Each toy10 seems prologue to some great amiss :
So full of artless jealousy is guilt,
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.

That inward breaks, and shows no cause without
Why the man dies.-I humbly thank you, sir.
Cap. God be wi' you, sir. [Exit Captain.
Will't please you go, my lord?
Ham. I will be with you straight. Go a little
[Exeunt Ros. and Guil.
How all occasions do inform against me,
And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
If his chief good, and market of his time,
Be but to sleep, and feed? a beast, no more.
Sure, he, that made us with such large discourse,5
Looking before, and after, gave us not
That capability and godlike reason,

To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be
Bestial oblivion, or some craven? scruple
Of thinking too precisely on the event,-
A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part

And, ever, three parts coward,-I do not know
Why yet I live to say, This thing's to do;
Siths I have cause, and will, and strength, and

Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,
That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing,
Yet the unshaped use of it doth move
The hearers to collection; they aim9 at it,
And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;
Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures, yield

Re-enter Horatio, with Ophelia.

Oph. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?

Queen. How now, Ophelia ?

Oph. How should I your true-love know
From another one?

By his cockle hat and staff,
And his sandal shoon.11


Queen. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song?
Oph. Say you? nay, pray you, mark.


He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone;
At his head a grass-green turf,
At his heels a stone.

O, ho!

Queen. Nay, but Ophelia,-

Pray you, mark. White his shroud as the mountain snow.


[blocks in formation]

King. Conceit upon her father.

Oph. Pray, let us have no words of this; but when they ask you, what it means, say you this:

(9) Guess. (10) Trifle.
(11) Shoe.
(12) Garnished.
(13) Reward.

Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day,
All in the morning betime,
And I a maid at your window,
To be your Valentine:

Then up he rose, and don'd1 his clothes,
And dupp'd the chamber door;
Let in the maid, that out a maid
Never departed more.

King, Pretty Ophelia !

Oph. Indeed, without an oath, I'll make an end

on't :

By Gis, and by Saint Charity,3
Alack, and fie for shame!
Young men will do't, if they come to'l;
By cock, they are to blame.

Quoth she, Before you tumbled me, You promis'd me to wed:

[He answers.]

So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to bed. my King. How long hath she been thus? Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient: but I cannot choose but weep, to think, they should lay him 'the cold ground, My brother shall know of it, and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies: good night, good night. [Ex. King Follow her close; give her good watch, I pray you. [Exit Horatio. O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's death: And now behold, O Gertrude, Gertrude,

When sorrows come, they come not single spies,
But in battalions! First, her father slain;
Next, your son gone; and he most violent author
Of his own just remove: The people muddied,
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and

For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,4

In hugger-muggers to inter him: Poor Ophelia
Divided from herself, and her fair judgment;
Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts.
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France :
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death;
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering piece, in many places
Gives me superfluous death! [A noise within.
Alack! what noise is this?
Enter a Gentleman.
King, Attend.

Where are my Switzers?6 Let them guard the door:
What is the matter?

Gent. Save yourself, my lord; The ocean, overpeering of his list,7 Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste, Than young Laertes, in a riotous head, O'erbears your officers! The rabble call him, lord; And, as the world were now but to begin,

(2) Do up.

(1) Do on, i. e. put on. (3) Saints in the Roman-catholic calendar. (4) Without judgment. (6) Guards. (7) Bounds.

(5) Privately. (8) Scent.


[blocks in formation]

Enter Ophelia, fantastically dressed with straws || That I must call't in question. and flowers.


O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,
Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!—
By heaven, thy madness shall be paid with weight,
Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May!
Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia !

O heavens is't possible, a young maid's wits
Should be as mortal as an old man's life?
Nature is fine in love: and, where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of itself
After the thing it loves.

Oph. They bore him barefac'd on the bier; Hey no nonny, nonny hey nonny : And in his grave rain'd many a tear,

Fare you well, my dove!

Laer. Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade

revenge, It could not move thus.

Oph. You must sing, Down-a-down, an you call him a-down-a. O, how the wheel2 becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole his master's daughter. Laer. This nothing's more than matter. Oph There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember; and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.

Laer. A document in madness; thoughts and remembrance fitted.

Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines: -there's rue for you; and here's some for me :we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays:-you may wear your rue with a difference 3-There's a daisy-I would give you some violets; but they withered all, when my father died :-They say, he made a good end,

For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,— [Sings. Laer Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favour, and to prettiness.


Oph. And will he not come again?
And will he not come again?
No, no, he is dead,
Go to thy death-bed,
He never will come again.

His beard was as white as snow,
All flaxen was his poll:

He is he is
gone, gone,
And we cast away moan;
God 'a mercy on his soul!

And of all Christian souls! I pray God. God be
wi' you!
[Exit Ophelia.
Laer. Do you see this, O God?
King Laertes, ust commune with your grief,
Or you deny me right. Go but apart,
Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will,
And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me:
If by direct or by collateral hand
They find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,
Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,
To you in satisfaction; but, if not,

Be you content to lend your patience to us,
And we shall jointly labour with your soul
To give it due content.

Let this be so;
His means of death, his obscure funeral,-
No trophy, sword, nor hatchment, o'er his bones,
No noble rite, nor formal ostentation,-
Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth,

(1) Artful. (2) The burthen.

(3) i. e. By its Sunday name 'herb of grace;' mine is merely rue, i. e. sorrow.

So you shall;


And where the offence is, let the great axe fall: pray you, go with me.

[Exeunt. SCENE VI-Another room in the same. Enter Horatio, and a Servant.

[blocks in formation]

Hor. [Reads.] Horatio, when thou shalt have overlooked this, give these fellows some means to the king; they have letters for him. Ere we were two days old at sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave us chace: Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put on a compelled valour; and in the grapple I boarded them on the instant they got clear of our ship; so I alone became their prisoner. They have dealt with me, like thieves of mercy; but they knew what they did; I am to do a good turn for them. Let the king have the letters I have sent; and repair thou to me with as much haste as thou would'st Ay death. I have yet are they much too light for the bore of the words to speak in thine ear, will make thee dumb; matter. These good fellows will bring thee where I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold their course for England: of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.

He that thou knowest thine, Hamlet.

Come, I will give you way for these your letters;
And do't the speedier, that you may direct me
To him from whom you brought them. [Exeunt.
SCENE VII.-Another room in the same. En-
ter King and Laertes.

King. Now must your conscience my acquittance seal,

And you must put me in your heart for friend;
Sith5 you have heard, and with a knowing ear,
That he, which hath your noble father slain,
Pursu'd my life.

It well appears:-But tell me,
Why you proceeded not against these feats,
So crimeful and so capital in nature,

As by your safety, greatness, wisdom, all things else,
You mainly were stirr'd up?

King. O, for two special reasons; Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd, But yet to me they are strong. The queen his

mother, Lives almost by his.looks; and for myself, (My virtue, or my plague, be it either which,) She is so conjunctive to my life and soul, That, as the star moves not but in his sphere, I could not but by her. The other motive, Why to a public count I might not go,

(4) Melancholy. (5) Since. (6) Deprived of strength.

Is, the great love the general gender! bear him :
Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,
Work like the spring2 that turneth wood to stone,
Convert his gyves to graces; so that my arrows,
Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind,
Would have reverted to my bow again,
And not where I had aim'd them.

Laer. And so have I a noble father lost;
A sister driven into desperate terms;
Whose worth, if praises may go back again,
Stood challenger on mount of all the age
For her perfections :-But my revenge will come.
King. Break not your sleeps for that: you must
not think,

That we are made of stuff so flat and dull,
That we can let our beard be shook with danger,
And think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more:
I lov'd your father, and we love ourself;
And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine,—
How now? what news?

[blocks in formation]

As did that one; and that, in my regard, Of the unworthiest siege.4


What part is that, my lord? King. A very ribband in the cap of youth, Yet needful too; for youth no less becomes The light and careless livery that it wears, Than settled age his sables, and his weeds, Importing health and graveness.-Two months since,

Here was a gentleman of Normandy,

I have seen myself, and serv'd against, the French,
And they can well on horseback: but this gallant
Had witchcraft in't; he grew unto his seat;
And to such wond'rous doing brought his horse,
As he had been incorps'd and demi-natur'd
With the brave beast: so far he topp'd my thought,
That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,
Come short of what he did.

A Norman, was't?


King. A Norman. Laer.

Upon my life, Lamord. The very same. Laer. I know him well: he is the brooch,5 indeed, And gem of all the nation.


King. He made confession of you; And gave you such a masterly report, For art and exercise in your defence.6 And for your rapier most especial, That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeed, If one could match you: the scrimers" of their nation, He swore, had neither motion, guard, nor eye, If you oppos'd them: Sir, this report of his Did Hamlet so envenom with his envy, That he could nothing do, but wish and beg Your sudden coming o'er, to play with you. Now, out of this,


What out of this, my lord? King. Laertes, was your father dear to you? Or are you like the painting of a sorrow, A face without a heart?


Why ask this?
King. Not that I think, you did not love your

[blocks in formation]

And wager o'er your heads: he, being remiss,
Most generous, and free from all contriving,
Will not peruse the foils; so that, with ease,
Or with adittle shuffling, you may choose
A sword unbated, and, in a pass of practice,2
Requite him for your father.

The Frenchman gave you; bring you, in fine, to-[] I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze,
But that this folly drowns it.
Let's follow, Gertrude :
How much I had to do to calm his rage!
Now fear I, this will give it start again;
Therefore, let's follow.



I will do't:
And, for the purpose, I'll anoint my sword.
I bought an unction of a mountebank,
So mortal, that but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all simples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death,
That is but scratch'd withal: I'll touch my point
With this contagion; that, if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

Let's further think of this;
Weigh, what convenience, both of time and means,
May fit us to our shape: if this should fail,
And that our drift look through our bad perform-


'Twere better not assay'd: therefore this project
Should have a back, or second, that might hold,
If this should blast in proof 3 Soft,-let me see
We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings,4
I ha't:


When in your motion you are hot and dry,
(As make your bouts more violent to that end,)
And that he calls for drink, I'll have preferr'd
A chalice for the nonce ;6 whereon but sipping,
If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck.?
Our purpose may hold there. But stay, what noise?
Enter Queen.

2 Clo. Why, 'tis found so.

1 Clo. It must be se offendendo; it cannot be else. For here lies the point: If I drown myself wittingly, it argues an act: and an act hath three :-branches; it is, to act, to do, and to perform: Argal, she drowned herself wittingly.

2 Clo. Nay, but hear you, goodman delver. 1 Clo. Give me leave. Here lies the water; good; here stands the man; good: if the man go to this water, and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, he goes; mark you that: but if the water come to him, and drown him, he drowns not himself: Argal, he, that is not guilty of his own death, shortens not his own life.

How now, sweet queen?

Queen. One wo doth tread upon another's heel, So fast they follow:-Your sister's drown'd, Laertes. Laer. Drown'd! O, where?

Queen. There is a willow grows ascaunt the

That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;
Therewith fantastic garlands did she make
Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples,8
That liberal9 shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call

There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;
When down her weedy trophies, and herself,
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread

And, mermaid-like, a while they bore her
Which time, she chanted snatches of old tunes;
As one incapablelo of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indu'd
Unto that element: but long it could not be,
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.

Alas then, she is drown'd?
Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.

Laer. Too much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,
And therefore I forbid my tears: But yet
It is our trick; nature her custom holds,
Let shame say what it will: when these are gone,
The woman will be out.-Adieu, my lord!


SCENE I-A churchyard. Enter two Clowns, with spades, &c.

(1) Not blunted as foils are. (2) Exercise. (3) As fire-arms sometimes burst in proving their strength.

(4) Skill. (5) Presented. (6) A cup for the purpose.

(7) Thrust.

1 Clo. Is she to be buried in Christian burial, that wilfully seeks her own salvation?

2 Clo. I tell thee, she is; therefore make her grave straight:12 the crowner hath set on her, and finds it Christian burial.

1 Clo. How can that be, unless she drowned herself in her own defence?

2 Clo. But is this law?

1 Clo. Ay, marry is't: crowner's-quest law.

2 Clo. Will you ha' the truth on't? If this had not been a gentlewoman, she should have been buried out of Christian burial.

1 Clo. Why, there thou say'st: And the more pity; that great folks shall have countenance in this world to drown or hang themselves, more than their even13 Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancient gentlemen but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers; they hold up Adam's profession. 2 Clo. Was he a gentleman?

1 Clo. He was the first that ever bore arms. 2 Clo. Why, he had none.

1 Clo. What, art a heathen? How dost thou understand the scripture? The scripture says, Adam digged; Could he dig without arms? I'll put another question to thee: if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confess thyself

2 Clo. Go to.

1 Clo. What is he, that builds stronger than either the mason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?

2 Clo. The gallows-maker; for that frame outlives a thousand tenants.

1 Clo. I like thy wit well, in good faith; the gallows does well: But how does it well? it does well to those that do ill: now thou dost ill, to say, the gallows is built stronger than the church; argal, the gallows may do well to thee. To't again; come.

2 Clo. Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, or a carpenter?

I Clo. Ay, tell me that, and unyoke.14
2 Clo. Marry, now I can tell.
1 Clo. To't.

[blocks in formation]
« AnteriorContinuar »