Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death

1.2.2180195The memory be green, and that it us befitted

1.2.3181196To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom

1.2.4182197To be contracted in one brow of woe,

1.2.5183198Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature

1.2.6184199That we with wisest sorrow think on him

1.2.7185200Together with remembrance of ourselves.

1.2.8186201Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,

1.2.9187202Th'imperial jointress to this warlike state,

1.2.10188203Have we as 'twere with a defeated joy,

1.2.11189204With an auspicious and a dropping eye,

1.2.12190205With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,

1.2.13191206In equal scale weighing delight and dole,

1.2.14192207Taken to wife. Nor have we herein barred

1.2.15193208Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone

1.2.16194209With this affair along. For all, our thanks.

1.2.17195210Now follows that you know young Fortinbras,

1.2.18196211Holding a weak supposal of our worth,

1.2.19197212Or thinking by our late dear brother's death

1.2.20198213Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,

1.2.21199214Co-leaguèd with this dream of his advantage,

1.2.22200215He hath not failed to pester us with message

1.2.23201216Importing the surrender of those lands

1.2.24202217Lost by his father, with all bands of law,

1.2.25203218To our most valiant brother. So much for him.

1.2.26205219Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting,

1.2.27206220Thus much the business is: we have here writ

1.2.28207221To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,

1.2.29208222Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears

1.2.30209223Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress

1.2.31210224His further gait herein, in that the levies,

1.2.32211225The lists, and full proportions are all made

1.2.33212226Out of his subject; and we here dispatch

1.2.34213227You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,

1.2.35214228For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,

1.2.36215229Giving to you no further personal power

1.2.37216230To business with the King more than the scope

1.2.38217231Of these delated articles allow.

1.2.39218232Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.

1.2.40219233Cornelius and Voltemand In that and all things will we show our duty.

We doubt it nothing. Heartily farewell.

1.2.42222235And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?

1.2.43223236You told us of some suit. What is't, Laertes?

1.2.44224237You cannot speak of reason to the Dane

1.2.45225238And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,

1.2.46226239That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?

1.2.47227240The head is not more native to the heart,

1.2.48228241The hand more instrumental to the mouth,

1.2.49229242Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.

1.2.50230243What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

What wouldst thou have, Laertes? My dread lord,

1.2.51232245Your leave and favor to return to France,

1.2.52233246From whence though willingly I came to Denmark

1.2.53234247To show my duty in your coronation,

1.2.54235248Yet now I must confess, that duty done,

1.2.55236249My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France

1.2.56237250And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

H'ath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave

1.2.59240.1253By laborsome petition, and at last

1.2.60240.2254Upon his will I sealed my hard consent.

1.2.61241255I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine,

1.2.63243257And thy best graces spend it at thy will.

1.2.64244258But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son--

A little more than kin, and less than kind.

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

Not so much, my lord, I am too much in the "son."

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off

1.2.69249263And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

1.2.70250264Do not forever with thy vailèd lids

1.2.71251265Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

1.2.72252266Thou know'st 'tis common: all that lives must die,

1.2.73253267Passing through nature to eternity.

Ay, madam, it is common.

Ay, madam, it is common. If it be,

1.2.75256270Why seems it so particular with thee?

"Seems," madam? Nay, it is, I know not "seems."

1.2.77258272'Tis not alone my inky cloak, cold mother,

1.2.78259273Nor customary suits of solemn black,

1.2.79260274Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,

1.2.80261275No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

1.2.81262276Nor the dejected havior of the visage,

1.2.82263277Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief

1.2.83264278That can denote me truly. These indeed seem,

1.2.84265279For they are actions that a man might play.

1.2.85266280But I have that within which passes show;

1.2.86267281These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,

1.2.88270283To give these mourning duties to your father.

1.2.89271284But you must know your father lost a father;

1.2.90272285That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound

1.2.91273286In filial obligation for some term

1.2.92274287To do obsequious sorrow; but to persever

1.2.93275288In obstinate condolement is a course

1.2.94276289Of impious stubbornness. 'Tis unmanly grief.

1.2.95277290It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,

1.2.96278291A heart unfortified, or mind impatient,

1.2.97279292An understanding simple and unschooled;

1.2.98280293For what we know must be and is as common

1.2.99281294As any the most vulgar thing to sense,

1.2.100282295Why should we in our peevish opposition

1.2.101283296Take it to heart? Fie, 'tis a fault to .heaven,

1.2.102284297A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,

1.2.103285298To reason most absurd, whose common theme

1.2.104286299Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried

1.2.105287300From the first corse till he that died today

1.2.106288301"This must be so." We pray you throw to earth

1.2.107289302This unprevailing woe, and think of us

1.2.108290303As of a father; for let the world take note

1.2.109291304You are the most immediate to our throne,

1.2.110292305And with no less nobility of love

1.2.111293306Than that which dearest father bears his son

1.2.112294307Do I impart toward you. For your intent

1.2.113295308In going back to school in Wittenberg,

1.2.114296309It is most retrograde to our desire,

1.2.115297310And we beseech you bend you to remain

1.2.116298311Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,

1.2.117299312Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.

Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.

1.2.119301314I pray thee stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.

I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply.

1.2.122305317Be as ourself in Denmark.--Madam, come.

1.2.123306318This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet

1.2.124307319Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof

1.2.125308320No jocund health that Denmark drinks today

1.2.126309321But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,

1.2.127310322And the King's rouse the heaven shall bruit again,

1.2.128311323Respeaking earthly thunder. Come, away!

Oh, that this too too sallied flesh would melt,

1.2.130314325Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!

1.2.131315326Or that the Everlasting had not fixed

1.2.132316327His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! Oh, God, God,

1.2.133317328How w[e]ary, stale, flat, and unprofitable

1.2.134318329Seem to me all the uses of this world!

1.2.135319330Fie on't, ah, fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden

1.2.136320331That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature

1.2.137321332Possess it merely. That it should come thus!

1.2.138322333But two months dead--nay, not so much, not two!

1.2.139323334So excellent a king, that was to this

1.2.140324335Hyperion to a satyr, so loving to my mother

1.2.141325336That he might not beteem the winds of heaven

1.2.142326337Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth,

1.2.143327338Must I remember? Why, she should hang on him

1.2.144328339As if increase of appetite had grown

1.2.145329340By what it fed on. And yet within a month--

1.2.146330341Let me not think on't; frailty, thy name is woman!

1.2.147331342A little month, or ere those shoes were old

1.2.148332343With which she followed my poor father's body,

1.2.149333344Like Niobe, all tears, why, she--

1.2.150334345Oh, God, a beast that wants discourse of reason

1.2.151335346Would have mourned longer!--married with my uncle,

1.2.152336347My father's brother, but no more like my father

1.2.153337348Than I to Hercules. Within a month,

1.2.154338349Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

1.2.155339350Had left the flushing in her gallèd eyes,

1.2.156340351She married. Oh, most wicked speed, to post

1.2.157341352With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

1.2.158342353It is not, nor it cannot come to good,

1.2.159343354But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

Hail to your lordship!

Hail to your lordship! I am glad to see you well.--

1.2.161347Horatio, or I do forget myself!

The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.

Sir, my good friend, I'll change that name with you.

1.2.164352360And what make you from Wittenberg,

Horatio?--

1.2.165353361Marcellus.

My good lord.

I am very glad to see you. [To Barnardo.] Good even, sir.

1.2.168356364[To Horatio] But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

A truant disposition, good my lord.

I would not hear your enemy say so,

1.2.171359367Nor shall you do my ear that violence

1.2.172360368To make it truster of your own report

1.2.173361369Against yourself. I know you are no truant.

1.2.174362370But what is your affair in Elsinore?

1.2.175363371We'll teach you for to drink ere you depart.

My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

I prithee do not mock me, fellow student.

1.2.178366374I think it was to [see] my mother's wedding.

Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.

Thrift, thrift, Horatio. The funeral baked meats

1.2.181369377Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

1.2.182370378Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

1.2.183371379Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!

1.2.184372380My father--methinks I see my father.

Where, my lord?

Where, my lord? In my mind's eye, Horatio.

I saw him once. 'A was a goodly king.

'A was a man, take him for all in all,

1.2.188377385I shall not look upon his like again.

My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

Saw? Who?

My lord, the King your father.

The King my father?

Season your admiration for a while

1.2.194383391With an attent ear till I may deliver,

1.2.195384392Upon the witness of these gentlemen,

1.2.196385393This marvel to you.

This marvel to you. For God's love, let me hear!

Two nights together had these gentlemen,

1.2.198388396Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch

1.2.199389397In the dead waste and middle of the night

1.2.200390398Been thus encountered: a figure like your father

1.2.201391399Armed at point, exactly, cap-à-pie,

1.2.202392400Appears before them, and with solemn march

1.2.203393401Goes slow and stately by them. Thrice he walked

1.2.204394402By their oppressed and fear-surprisèd eyes

1.2.205395403 Within his truncheon's length, whilst they, distilled

1.2.206396404Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

1.2.207397405Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me

1.2.208398406In dreadful secrecy impart they did,

1.2.209399407And I with them the third night kept the watch,

1.2.210400408Where, as they had delivered, both in time,

1.2.211401409Form of the thing, each word made true and good,

1.2.212402410The apparition comes. I knew your father.

1.2.213403411These hands are not more like.

These hands are not more like. But where was this?

My lord, upon the platform where we watch.

Did you not speak to it?

Did you not speak to it? My lord, I did,

1.2.216408416But answer made it none. Yet once methought

1.2.217409417It lifted up it head and did address

1.2.218410418Itself to motion, like as it would speak;

1.2.219411419But even then the morning cock crew loud,

1.2.220412420And at the sound it shrunk in haste away

1.2.221413421And vanished from our sight.

And vanished from our sight. 'Tis very strange.

As I do live, my honored lord, 'tis true,

1.2.223416424And we did think it writ down in our duty

1.2.224417425To let you know of it.

Indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.

1.2.226419427Hold you the watch tonight?

Hold you the watch tonight? We do, my lord.

Armed, say you?

Armed, my lord.

From top to toe?

My lord, from head to foot.

Then saw you not his face.

Oh, yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.

What looked he, frowningly?

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

Pale, or red?

Nay, very pale.

And fixed his eyes upon you?

Most constantly.

I would I had been there.

It would have much amazed you.

Very like. Stayed it long?

While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

Longer, longer.

Not when I saw't.

His beard was grizzled, no?

It was as I have seen it in his life,

1.2.247441449A sable silvered.

A sable silvered. I will watch tonight.

1.2.248451Perchance 'twill walk again.

Perchance 'twill walk again. I warr'nt it will.

If it assume my noble father's person,

1.2.250445454I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape

1.2.251446455And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,

1.2.252447456If you have hitherto concealed this sight

1.2.253448457Let it be tenable in your silence still,

1.2.254449458And whatsomever else shall hap tonight,

1.2.255450459Give it an understanding but no tongue;

1.2.256451460I will requite your loves. So, fare you well.

1.2.257452461Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve

1.2.258453462I'll visit you.

I'll visit you. Our duty to your honor.

Your loves, as mine to you. Farewell.

1.2.260456465My father's spirit--in arms! All is not well.

1.2.261457466I doubt some foul play. Would the night were come!

1.2.262458467Till then, sit still, my soul. Fond deeds will rise,

1.2.263459468Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.