Hamlet (Quarto 1, 1603)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
Enter King and Queene, Rossencraft, and Gilderstone.
1030Therefore we doe desire, euen as you tender
1030.1Our care to him, and our great loue to you,
1035That you will labour but to wring from him
¶Doe this, the king of Denmarke shal be thankefull.
¶Your maiestie may more commaund in wordes
1049.1By loue, by duetie, and obedience.
Guil. What we may doe for both your Maiesties
1046.1To know the griefe troubles the Prince your sonne,
¶We will indeuour all the best we may,
1051.1So in all duetie doe we take our leaue.
¶
Enter Corambis and Ofelia.
Return'd from Norway.
¶I holde my duetie as I holde my life,
¶Both to my God, and to my soueraigne King:
1070And I beleeue, or else this braine of mine
¶Hunts not the traine of policie so well
¶As it had wont to doe, but I haue found
¶The very depth of Hamlets lunacie.
1073.1Queene God graunt he hath.
¶
Enter the Ambassadors.
¶King Now Voltemar, what from our brother Norway?
¶His nephews leuies, which to him appear'd
¶To be a preparation gainst the Polacke:
¶But better look't into, he truely found
¶Receiues rebuke from Norway: and in fine,
1095Makes vow before his vncle, neuer more
¶Whereon olde Norway ouercome with ioy,
¶Giues him three thousand crownes in annuall fee,
1100So leuied as before, against the Polacke,
¶With an intreaty heerein further shewne,
¶Through your dominions, for that enterprise
1105As therein are set downe.
¶Meane time we thanke you for your well
Tooke labour: go to your rest, at night weele feast togither:
¶Right welcome home.
exeunt Ambassadors.
Now my Lord, touching the yong Prince Hamlet,
¶Certaine it is that hee is madde: mad let vs grant him then:
¶Now to know the cause of this effect,
¶For this effect defectiue comes by cause.
¶Queene Good my Lord be briefe.
¶Cor. Madam I will: my Lord, I haue a daughter,
¶Haue while shee's mine: for that we thinke
¶My Lord, but note this letter,
¶The which my daughter in obedience
1135Deliuer'd to my handes.
1135.1King Reade it my Lord.
Cor. Marke my Lord.
¶Doubt that in earth is fire,
1145Doubt that the starres doe moue,
¶Doubt trueth to be a liar,
¶But doe not doubt I loue.
¶To the beautifull Ofelia:
¶Thine euer the most vnhappy Prince Hamlet.
¶My Lord, what doe you thinke of me?
1160I, or what might you thinke when I sawe this?
Cor. I would be glad to prooue so.
1170Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of your starre,
1170.1And one that is vnequall for your loue:
¶Therefore I did commaund her refuse his letters,
¶Shee as my childe obediently obey'd me.
¶Which I tooke to be idle, and but sport,
¶He straitway grew into a melancholy,
From that vnto a fast, then vnto distraction,
Then into a sadnesse, from that vnto a madnesse,
¶And if this be not true, take this from this.
1185And it hath fallen out otherwise.
¶Nay, if circumstances leade me on,
Ile finde it out, if it were hid
1190As deepe as the centre of the earth.
1191.1Cor. Mary my good lord thus,
¶The Princes walke is here in the galery,
¶There let Ofelia, walke vntill hee comes:
1197.1There shall you heare the effect of all his hart,
¶And if it proue any otherwise then loue,
1198.1Then let my censure faile an other time.
¶
Enter Hamlet.
To leaue vs here?
1695Cor. And here Ofelia, reade you on this booke,
1710Ham. To be, or not to be, I there's the point,
¶To Die, to sleepe, is that all? I all:
¶No, to sleepe, to dreame, I mary there it goes,
1720For in that dreame of death, when wee awake,
¶And borne before an euerlasting Iudge,
The vndiscouered country, at whose sight
¶But for this, the ioyfull hope of this,
¶Whol'd beare the scornes and flattery of the world,
¶The taste of hunger, or a tirants raigne,
¶To grunt and sweate vnder this weary life,
¶When that he may his full Quietus make,
1730With a bare bodkin, who would this indure,
¶But for a hope of something after death?
Which pusles the braine, and doth confound the sence,
1735Which makes vs rather beare those euilles we haue,
¶Than flie to others that we know not of.
¶I that, O this conscience makes cowardes of vs all,
¶Lady in thy orizons, be all my sinnes remembred.
¶I haue, to redeliuer to your worthy handes, a small remem-
brance, such tokens which I haue receiued of you.
1760Ham. Are you faire?
¶Ofel. My Lord.
¶Ofel. What meanes my Lord?
Your beauty should admit no discourse to your honesty.
¶Ofel. My Lord, can beauty haue better priuiledge than
1765with honesty?
Then Honesty can transforme Beauty:
¶This was sometimes a Paradox,
But now the time giues it scope.
¶I neuer gaue you nothing.
¶Ofel. My Lord, you know right well you did,
1754.1But now too true I finde,
¶Rich giftes waxe poore, when giuers grow vnkinde.
¶Ham. I neuer loued you.
¶Ofel. You made me beleeue you did.
It had beene better my mother had ne're borne me,
¶O I am very prowde, ambitious, disdainefull,
1780With more sinnes at my becke, then I haue thoughts
¶Do, crawling between heauen and earth?
¶To a Nunnery goe, we are arrant knaues all,
Beleeue none of vs, to a Nunnery goe.
1785Ham. Wher's thy father?
¶Ofel. At home my lord.
He may play the foole no where but in his
¶Owne house: to a Nunnery goe.
Ofel. Help him good God.
This plague to thy dowry:
1792.1Ofel. Alas, what change is this?
¶Ham. But if thou wilt needes marry, marry a foole,
¶For wisemen know well enough,
What monsters you make of them, to a Nunnery goe.
¶Ham. Nay, I haue heard of your paintings too,
¶God hath giuen you one face,
And you make your selues another,
1800You fig, and you amble, and you nickname Gods creatures,
¶A pox, t'is scuruy, Ile no more of it,
It hath made me madde: Ile no more marriages,
¶All that are married but one, shall liue,
1805To a Nunnery goe.
exit.
1805.1Ofe. Great God of heauen, what a quicke change is this?
¶The Courtier, Scholler, Souldier, all in him,
exit.
1818.1Some deeper thing it is that troubles him.
I will my selfe goe feele him: let me worke,
Ile try him euery way: see where he comes,
1204.1Send you those Gentlemen, let me alone
To finde the depth of this, away, be gone.
exit King.
Now my good Lord, do you know me?
Enter Hamlet.
¶Cor. Not I my Lord.
1215For to be honest, as this age goes,
Is one man to be pickt out of tenne thousand.
¶Cor. What doe you reade my Lord?
1230Ham. Wordes, wordes.
¶Cor. What's the matter my Lord?
¶Ham. Betweene who?
¶Cor. I meane the matter you reade my Lord.
¶For here the Satyricall Satyre writes,
1235That olde men haue hollow eyes, weake backes,
Grey beardes, pittifull weake hammes, gowty legges,
¶If like a Crabbe, you could goe backeward.
¶Cor. How pregnant his replies are, and full of wit:
1226.1All this comes by loue, the vemencie of loue,
¶And when I was yong, I was very idle,
¶Will you walke out of the aire my Lord?
¶Ham. Into my graue.
Very shrewd answers,
¶My lord I will take my leaue of you.
1265
Enter Gilderstone, and Rossencraft.
I will more willingly part with all,
¶Olde doating foole.
¶Welcome kinde Schoole-fellowes to Elsanoure.
1417.1Gil. We thanke your Grace, and would be very glad
¶You were as when we were at Wittenberg.
¶Tell me true, come, I know the good King and Queene
¶Come, I know you were sent for.
Come, you were sent for.
¶Ross. My lord, we were, and willingly if we might,
Know the cause and ground of your discontent.
2210Ham. Why I want preferment.
1355No nor Man that is so glorious a creature,
Contents not me, no nor woman too, though you laugh.
¶Gil. My lord, we laugh not at that.
1360Ham. Why did you laugh then,
When I said, Man did not content mee?
content you.
¶What entertainement the Players shall haue,
¶We boorded them a the way: they are comming to you.
¶Ham. Players, what Players be they?
1375Ross. My Lord, the Tragedians of the Citty,
1385Gil. No my Lord, their reputation holds as it was wont.
1385.1Ham. How then?
¶Gil. Yfaith my Lord, noueltie carries it away,
For the principall publike audience that
Came to them, are turned to priuate playes,
And to the humour of children.
¶Ham. I doe not greatly wonder of it,
1410For those that would make mops and moes
At my vncle, when my father liued,
¶Now giue a hundred, two hundred pounds
¶For his picture: but they shall be welcome,
He that playes the King shall haue tribute of me,
1370The clowne shall make them laugh
That are tickled in the lungs, or the blanke verse shall halt
(for't,
1415
The Trumpets sound, Enter Corambis.
1430Do you see yonder great baby?
He is not yet out of his swadling clowts.
¶Is twice a childe.
¶Cor. My lord, I haue news to tell you.
¶Ham. My Lord, I haue newes to tell you:
1440Cor. The Actors are come hither, my lord.
¶Ham. Buz, buz.
Either for Comedy, Tragedy, Historie, Pastorall,
¶Seneca cannot be too heauy, nor Plato too light:
¶For the law hath writ those are the onely men.
¶Ham. Why one faire daughter, and no more,
If you call me Iepha, I hane a daughter that
1460Ham. Nay that followes not.
¶Cor. What followes then my Lord?
¶Wil tel you all: for look you where my abridgement comes:
¶What my olde friend, thy face is vallanced
1470My yong lady and mistris, burlady but your
¶Pray God sir your voyce, like a peece of vncurrant
¶Golde, be not crack't in the ring: come on maisters,
¶Weele euen too't, like French Falconers,
But it was neuer acted: or if it were,
1480Neuer aboue twice, for as I remember,
¶It pleased not the vulgar, it was cauiary
To the million: but to me
¶And others, that receiued it in the like kinde,
¶Cried in the toppe of their iudgements, an excellent play,
¶Set downe with as great modestie as cunning:
¶Come, a speech in it I chiefly remember
Was Æneas tale to Dido,
¶If it liue in thy memory beginne at this line,
¶Let me see.
The rugged Pyrrus, like th'arganian beast:
¶No t'is not so, it begins with Pirrus:
1493.1O I haue it.
¶When he lay couched in the ominous horse,
¶Hath now his blacke and grimme complexion smeered
¶With Heraldry more dismall, head to foote,
¶Now is he totall guise, horridely tricked
1500With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sonnes,
¶Back't and imparched in calagulate gore,
1503.1So goe on.
1510His antike sword rebellious to his Arme,
¶Pyrrus at Pryam driues, but all in rage,
Strikes wide, but with the whiffe and winde
¶Of his fell sword, th'unnerued father falles.
¶Cor. Enough my friend, t'is too long.
1540A pox, hee's for a Iigge, or a tale of bawdry,
Or else he sleepes, come on to Hecuba, come.
¶Cor. Mobled Queene is good, faith very good.
¶And o're her weake and all ore-teeming loynes, a blancket
¶And a kercher on that head, where late the diademe stoode,
¶Would treason haue pronounced,
1555Mincing her husbandes limbs,
¶It would haue made milch the burning eyes of heauen,
1560Cor Looke my lord if he hath not changde his colour,
And hath teares in his eyes: no more good heart, no more.
¶Ham. T'is well, t'is very well, I pray my lord,
¶I tell you they are the Chronicles
1565And briefe abstracts of the time,
After your death I can tell you,
¶You were better haue a bad Epiteeth,
Then their ill report while you liue.
Vse them after your owne honor and dignitie,
¶der of Gonsago?
¶players Yes my Lord.
¶Some dozen or sixteene lines,
Which I would set downe and insert?
¶Ham. T'is well, I thanke you: follow that lord:
And doe you heare sirs? take heede you mocke him not.
1584.1Gentlemen, for your kindnes I thanke you,
1585And for a time I would desire you leaue me.
1585.1Gil. Our loue and duetie is at your commaund.
¶
Exeunt all but Hamlet.
¶Why these Players here draw water from eyes:
¶For Hecuba, why what is Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba?
1600.1His father murdred, and a Crowne bereft him,
¶He would turne all his teares to droppes of blood,
¶Amaze the standers by with his laments,
1603.1Strike more then wonder in the iudiciall eares,
1605Confound the ignorant, and make mute the wise,
¶Hauing my father murdred by a villaine,
Stand still, and let it passe, why sure I am a coward:
¶Who pluckes me by the beard, or twites my nose,
¶Giue's me the lie i'th throate downe to the lungs,
¶Or by this I should a fatted all the region kites
1620With this slaues offell, this damned villaine,
Treacherous, bawdy, murderous villaine:
¶Why this is braue, that I the sonne of my deare father,
¶Should like a scalion, like a very drabbe
¶Thus raile in wordes. About my braine,
¶I haue heard that guilty creatures sitting at a play,
1630.1Committed long before.
¶As he is very potent with such men,
¶The play's the thing,
1645Wherein I'le catch the conscience of the King.
exit.
