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  • Title: Hamlet (Quarto 1, 1603)
  • Textual editor: Eric Rasmussen
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-434-9

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Hamlet (Quarto 1, 1603)

    Enter Queene and Corambis.
    2375 Cor. Madame, I heare yong Hamlet comming,
    I'le shrowde my selfe behinde the Arras. exit Cor.
    2379.1 Queene Do so my Lord.
    Ham. Mother, mother, O are you here?
    2385 How i' st with you mother?
    Queene How i' st with you?
    2497.1 Ham, I'le tell you, but fir st weele make all safe.
    Queene Hamlet, thou ha st thy father much offended.
    Ham. Mother, you haue my father much offended.
    2390 Queene How now boy?
    2390 Ham. How now mother! come here, sit downe, for you
    shall heare me speake.
    Queene What wilt thou doe? thou wilt not murder me:
    Helpe hoe.
    Cor. Helpe for the Queene.
    Ham. I a Rat, dead for a Duckat.
    Ra sh intruding foole, farewell,
    I tooke thee for thy better.
    Queene Hamlet, what ha st thou done?
    Ham. Not so much harme, good mother,
    2410 As to kill a king, and marry with his brother.
    Queene How! kill a king!
    Ham. I a King: nay sit you downe, and ere you part,
    If you be made of penitrable stuffe,
    I'le make your eyes looke downe into your heart,
    And see how horride there and blacke it shews.
    2466.1 Queene Hamlet, what mean' st thou by these killing (words?
    Ham. Why this I meane, see here, behold this picture,
    2437.1 It is the portraiture, of your deceased husband,
    See here a face, to outface Mars himselfe,
    An eye, at which his foes did tremble at,
    2440 A front wherin all vertues are set downe
    2440.1 For to adorne a king, and guild his crowne,
    Whose heart went hand in hand euen with that vow,
    He made to you in marriage, and he is dead.
    Murdred, damnably murdred, this was your husband,
    Looke you now, here is your husband,
    2447.1 With a face like Vulcan.
    A looke fit for a murder and a rape,
    A dull dead hanging looke, and a hell-bred eie,
    To affright children and amaze the world:
    2450 And this same haue you left to change with this.
    2455 What Diuell thus hath cosoned you at hob-man blinde?
    A! haue you eyes and can you looke on him
    2449.1 That slew my father, and your deere husband,
    To liue in the ince stuous pleasure of his bed?
    Queene O Hamlet, speake no more.
    2464.1 Ham. To leaue him that bare a Monarkes minde,
    For a king of clowts, of very shreads.
    Queene Sweete Hamlet cease.
    Ham. Nay but still to per si st and dwell in sinne,
    To sweate vnder the yoke of infamie,
    2469.1 To make increase of shame, to seale damnation.
    Queene Hamlet, no more.
    Ham. Why appetite with you is in the waine,
    2453.1 Your blood runnes backeward now from whence it came,
    Who'le chide hote blood within a Virgins heart,
    When lu st shall dwell within a matrons brea st?
    Queene Hamlet, thou cleaues my heart in twaine.
    Ham. O throw away the worser part of it, and keepe the
    Enter the gho st in his night gowne.
    Saue me, saue me, you gratious
    Powers aboue, and houer ouer mee,
    With your cele stiall wings.
    Doe you not come your tardy sonne to chide,
    That I thus long haue let reuenge slippe by?
    O do not glare with lookes so pittifull!
    Le st that my heart of stone yeelde to compa s sion,
    2510 And euery part that should a s si st reuenge,
    Forgoe their proper powers, and fall to pitty.
    2490 Gho st Hamlet, I once againe appeare to thee,
    To put thee in remembrance of my death:
    2491.1 Doe not neglect, nor long time put it off.
    But I perceiue by thy di stracted lookes,
    Thy mother's fearefull, and she stands amazde:
    Speake to her Hamlet, for her sex is weake,
    Comfort thy mother, Hamlet, thinke on me.
    Ham. How i' st with you Lady?
    Queene Nay, how i' st with you
    That thus you bend your eyes on vacancie,
    And holde discourse with nothing but with ayre?
    2515 Ham. Why doe you nothing heare?
    Queene Not I.
    Ham. Nor doe you nothing see?
    Queene No neither.
    Ham. No, why see the king my father, my father, in the (habite
    As he liued, looke you how pale he lookes,
    See how he steales away out of the Portall,
    Looke, there he goes. exit gho st.
    2520 Queene Alas, it is the weakene s s e of thy braine,
    2520.1 Which makes thy tongue to blazon thy hearts griefe:
    But as I haue a soule, I sweare by heauen,
    I neuer knew of this mo st horride murder:
    But Hamlet, this is onely fanta sie,
    2521.1 And for my loue forget these idle fits.
    Ham. Idle, no mother, my pulse doth beate like yours,
    It is not madne s s e that po s s e s s eth Hamlet.
    O mother, if euer you did my deare father loue,
    Forbeare the adulterous bed to night,
    2545 And win your selfe by little as you may,
    2545.1 In time it may be you wil lothe him quite:
    And mother, but a s si st mee in reuenge,
    And in his death your infamy shall die.
    Queene Hamlet, I vow by that maie sty,
    2573.1 That knowes our thoughts, and lookes into our hearts,
    I will conceale, consent, and doe my be st,
    2574.1 What stratagem soe're thou shalt deuise.
    Ham. It is enough, mother good night:
    Come sir, I'le prouide for you a graue,
    Who was in life a fooli sh prating knaue.
    2585 Exit Hamlet with the dead body.
    Enter the King and Lordes.
    King Now Gertred, what sayes our sonne, how doe you
    finde him?
    Queene Alas my lord, as raging as the sea:
    2593.1 Whenas he came, I fir st bespake him faire,
    But then he throwes and to s s es me about,
    As one forgetting that I was his mother:
    2392.1 At la st I call'd for help: and as I cried, Corambis
    Call'd, which Hamlet no sooner heard, but whips me
    Out his rapier, and cries, a Rat, a Rat, and in his rage
    The good olde man he killes.
    2600 King Why this his madne s s e will vndoe our state.
    Lordes goe to him, inquire the body out.
    2624.1 Gil. We will my Lord. Exeunt Lordes.
    King Gertred, your sonne shall presently to England,
    His shipping is already furni shed,
    2617.1 And we haue sent by Ro s s encraft and Gilder stone,
    Our letters to our deare brother of England,
    For Hamlets welfare and his happine s s e:
    Happly the aire and climate of the Country
    1828.1 May please him better than his natiue home:
    See where he comes.
    Enter Hamlet and the Lordes.
    Gil. My lord, we can by no meanes
    Know of him where the body is.
    King Now sonne Hamlet, where is this dead body?
    Ham. At supper, not where he is eating, but
    2685 Where he is eaten, a certaine company of politicke wormes
    are euen now at him.
    Father, your fatte King, and your leane Beggar
    Are but variable seruices, two di shes to one me s s e:
    Looke you, a man may fi sh with that worme
    That hath eaten of a King,
    And a Beggar eate that fi sh,
    Which that worme hath caught.
    King What of this?
    Ham. Nothing father, but to tell you, how a King
    May go a progre s s e through the guttes of a Beggar.
    King But sonne Hamlet, where is this body?
    2695 Ham. In heau'n, if you chance to mi s s e him there,
    Father, you had be st looke in the other partes below
    For him, aud if you cannot finde him there,
    You may chance to nose him as you go vp the lobby.
    King Make ha ste and finde him out.
    2699.1 Ham. Nay doe you heare? do not make too much ha ste,
    2700 I'le warrant you hee'le stay till you come.
    King Well sonne Hamlet, we in care of you: but specially
    in tender preseruation of your health,
    2701.1 The which we price euen as our proper selfe,
    It is our minde you forthwith goe for England,
    2705 The winde sits faire, you shall aboorde to night,
    Lord Ro s s encraft and Gilder stone shall goe along with you.
    Ham. O with all my heart: farewel mother.
    King Your louing father, Hamlet.
    2715 Ham. My mother I say: you married my mother,
    My mother is your wife, man and wife is one fle sh,
    And so (my mother) farewel: for England hoe.
    exeunt all but the king.
    2717.1 king Gertred, leaue me,
    And take your leaue of Hamlet,
    To England is he gone, ne're to returne:
    Our Letters are vnto the King of England,
    That on the sight of them, on his allegeance,
    2727.1 He presently without demaunding why,
    2730 That Hamlet loose his head, for he mu st die,
    2730.1 There's more in him than shallow eyes can see:
    He once being dead, why then our state is free. exit.