1.2.0.2Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, 177Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, and his sister 178Ophelia, Lords attendant. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
1.2.2180The memory be green, and that it us befitted
1.2.3181To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
1.2.4182To be contracted in one brow of woe,
1.2.5183Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
1.2.6184That we with wisest sorrow think on him
1.2.7185Together with remembrance of ourselves.
1.2.8186Therefore our sometimes sister, now our queen,
1.2.9187Th'imperial jointress of this warlike state,
1.2.10188Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,
1.2.11189With one auspicious and one dropping eye,
1.2.12190With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
1.2.13191In equal scale weighing delight and dole,
1.2.14192Taken to wife. Nor have we herein barred
1.2.15193Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
1.2.16194With this affair along. For all, our thanks.
1.2.17195Now follows, that you know young Fortinbras,
1.2.18196Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
1.2.19197Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
1.2.20198Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
1.2.21199Co-leaguèd with the dream of his advantage,
1.2.22200He hath not failed to pester us with message
1.2.23201Importing the surrender of those lands
1.2.24202Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,
1.2.25203To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
1.2.26205Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting,
1.2.27206Thus much the business is: we have here writ
1.2.28207To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,
1.2.29208Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
1.2.30209Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress
1.2.31210His further gait herein, in that the levies,
1.2.32211The lists, and full proportions are all made
1.2.33212Out of his subject; and we here dispatch
1.2.34213You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,
1.2.35214For bearing of this greeting to old Norway,
1.2.36215Giving to you no further personal power
1.2.37216To business with the King more than the scope
1.2.39218Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.
In that and all things will we show our duty.
We doubt it nothing. Heartily farewell.
1.2.42222And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?
1.2.43223You told us of some suit. What is't, Laertes?
1.2.44224You cannot speak of reason to the Dane
1.2.45225And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,
1.2.46226That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
1.2.47227The head is not more native to the heart,
1.2.48228The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
1.2.49229Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
What wouldst thou have, Laertes? Dread my lord,
1.2.51232Your leave and favor to return to France,
1.2.52233From whence though willingly I came to Denmark
1.2.54235Yet now I must confess, that duty done,
1.2.55236My thoughts and wishes bend again towards France
1.2.56237And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
Have you your father's leave?
239What says Polonius?
He hath, my lord.
1.2.59241I do beseech you, give him leave to go.
Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine,
1.2.61243And thy best graces spend it at thy will.
1.2.62244But 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, my lord, I am too much i'th' sun.
Good Hamlet, cast thy nightly color off
1.2.67249And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
1.2.69251Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
1.2.70252Thou know'st 'tis common: all that lives must die,
Ay, madam, it is common.
Ay, madam, it is common. If it be,
1.2.73256Why seems it so particular with thee?
"Seems," madam? Nay, it is. I know not "seems."
1.2.75258'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
1.2.76259Nor customary suits of solemn black,
1.2.77260Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
1.2.78261No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
1.2.79262Nor the dejected havior of the visage,
1.2.80263Together with all forms, moods, shows of grief
1.2.81264That can denote me truly. These indeed seem,
1.2.82265For they are actions that a man might play.
1.2.83266But I have that within which passeth show;
1.2.84267These but the trappings and the suits of woe.
'Tis sweet and commendable
269in your nature, Hamlet,
1.2.86270To give these mourning duties to your father.
1.2.87271But you must know, your father lost a father,
1.2.88272That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
1.2.90274To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever
1.2.91275In obstinate condolement is a course
1.2.92276Of impious stubbornness. 'Tis unmanly grief.
1.2.93277It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
1.2.94278A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,
1.2.95279An understanding simple and unschooled;
1.2.96280For what we know must be and is as common
1.2.97281As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
1.2.98282Why should we in our peevish opposition
1.2.99283Take it to heart? Fie, 'tis a fault to heaven,
1.2.100284A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
1.2.101285To reason most absurd, whose common theme
1.2.102286Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried
1.2.103287From the first corse till he that died today
1.2.104288"This must be so." We pray you throw to earth
1.2.106290As of a father; for let the world take note,
1.2.107291You are the most immediate to our throne,
1.2.109293Than that which dearest father bears his son
1.2.110294Do I impart towards you. For your intent
1.2.114298Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
1.2.115299Our chiefest courtier cousin, and our son.
Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.
1.2.117301I prithee stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.
I shall in all my best
303obey you, madam.
Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply.
1.2.121306This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet
1.2.122307Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof
1.2.123308No jocund health that Denmark drinks today
1.2.124309But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,
1.2.125310And the King's rouse the heavens shall bruit again,
Oh, that this too too solid flesh would melt,
1.2.130316His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O God, O God!
1.2.131317How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
1.2.133319Fie on't! Oh, fie, fie, 'tis an unweeded garden
1.2.134320That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
1.2.135321Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
1.2.136322But two months dead--nay, not so much, not two.
1.2.138324Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
1.2.139325That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
1.2.140326Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth,
1.2.141327Must I remember? Why, she would hang on him
1.2.143329By what it fed on; and yet within a month--
1.2.144330Let me not think on't. Frailty, thy name is woman!
1.2.145331A little month, or ere those shoes were old
1.2.146332With which she followed my poor father's body,
1.2.147333Like Niobe, all tears, why, she, even she--
1.2.148334Oh, heaven! a beast that wants discourse of reason
1.2.149335Would have mourned longer!--married with mine uncle,
1.2.150336My father's brother, but no more like my father
1.2.152338Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
1.2.153339Had left the flushing of her gallèd eyes,
1.2.154340She married. Oh, most wicked speed, to post
1.2.155341With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
1.2.157343But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.
Hail to your lordship!
Hail to your lordship! I am glad to see you well.--
The same, my lord,
349and your poor servant ever.
Sir, my good friend,
351I'll change that name with you.
1.2.162352And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?--
My good lord.
I am very glad to see you. [To Barnardo.] Good even, sir.
1.2.166356[To Horatio]But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
A truant disposition, good my lord.
I would not have your enemy say so,
1.2.171361Against yourself. I know you are no truant.
1.2.173363We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.
My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.
I pray thee do not mock me, fellow student.
1.2.176366I think it was to see my mother's wedding.
Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.
Thrift, thrift, Horatio. The funeral baked meats
1.2.179369Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
1.2.180370Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Oh, where, my lord?
Oh, where, my lord? In my mind's eye, Horatio.
I saw him once. He was a goodly king.
He was a man, take him for all in all:
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
This marvel to you. For heaven's love, let me hear!
Two nights together had these gentlemen,
1.2.197389In the dead waste and middle of the night
1.2.198390Been thus encountered: a figure like your father
1.2.200392Appears before them, and with solemn march
1.2.201393Goes slow and stately. By them thrice he walked,
1.2.202394By their oppressed and fear-surprisèd eyes,
1.2.203395Within his truncheon's length, whilst they, bestilled
1.2.205397Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me
1.2.207399And I with them the third night kept the watch,
1.2.208400Where, as they had delivered, both in time,
1.2.209401Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
1.2.210402The apparition comes. I knew your father.
These hands are not more like. But where was this?
My lord, upon the platform where we watched.
Did you not speak to it?
Did you not speak to it? My lord, I did,
1.2.214408But answer made it none. Yet once methought
1.2.216410Itself to motion, like as it would speak;
1.2.217411But even then the morning cock crew loud,
1.2.218412And at the sound it shrunk in haste away
And vanished from our sight. 'Tis very strange.
As I do live, my honored lord, 'tis true;
1.2.221416And we did think it writ down in our duty
Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.
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, very like. Stayed it long?
While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.
Longer, longer.
Not when I saw't.
His beard was grizzly? No?
It was, as I have seen it in his life,
I'll watch tonight. Perchance 'twill wake again.
I warrant you it will.
If it assume my noble father's person,
1.2.249445I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
1.2.250446And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
1.2.251447If you have hitherto concealed this sight,
1.2.255451I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well.
1.2.256452Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve
I'll visit you. Our duty to your honor.
Your love, as mine to you. Farewell.
1.2.259456My father's spirit in arms! All is not well.
1.2.260457I doubt some foul play. Would the night were come!
1.2.261458Till then, sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise,
1.2.262459Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.