Chapter 157

Ham. Oh that this too too solid Flesh, would melt, Thaw, and resolue it selfe into a Dew: Or that the Euerlasting had not fixt His Cannon 'gainst Selfe-slaughter. O God, O God! How weary, stale, flat, and vnprofitable Seemes to me all the vses of this world? Fie on't? Oh fie, fie, 'tis an vnweeded Garden That growes to Seed: Things rank, and grosse in Nature Possesse it meerely. That it should come to this: But two months dead: Nay, not so much; not two, So excellent a King, that was to this Hiperion to a Satyre: so louing to my Mother, That he might not beteene the windes of heauen Visit her face too roughly. Heauen and Earth Must I remember: why she would hang on him, As if encrease of Appetite had growne By what is fed on; and yet within a month? Let me not thinke on't: Frailty, thy name is woman. A little Month, or ere those shooes were old, With which she followed my poore Fathers body Like Niobe, all teares. Why she, euen she. (O Heauen! A beast that wants discourse of Reason Would haue mourn'd longer) married with mine Vnkle, My Fathers Brother: but no more like my Father, Then I to Hercules. Within a Moneth? Ere yet the salt of most vnrighteous Teares Had left the flushing of her gauled eyes, She married. O most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to Incestuous sheets: It is not, nor it cannot come to good. But breake my heart, for I must hold my tongue. Enter Horatio, Barnardo, and Marcellus.

Hor. Haile to your Lordship

Ham. I am glad to see you well: Horatio, or I do forget my selfe

Hor. The same my Lord, And your poore Seruant euer

Ham. Sir my good friend, Ile change that name with you: And what make you from Wittenberg Horatio? Marcellus

Mar. My good Lord

Ham. I am very glad to see you: good euen Sir. But what in faith make you from Wittemberge? Hor. A truant disposition, good my Lord

Ham. I would not haue your Enemy say so; Nor shall you doe mine eare that violence, To make it truster of your owne report Against your selfe. I know you are no Truant: But what is your affaire in Elsenour? Wee'l teach you to drinke deepe, ere you depart

Hor. My Lord, I came to see your Fathers Funerall

Ham. I pray thee doe not mock me (fellow Student) I thinke it was to see my Mothers Wedding

Hor. Indeed my Lord, it followed hard vpon

Ham. Thrift thrift Horatio: the Funerall Bakt-meats Did coldly furnish forth the Marriage Tables; Would I had met my dearest foe in heauen, Ere I had euer seene that day Horatio. My father, me thinkes I see my father

Hor. Oh where my Lord? Ham. In my minds eye (Horatio) Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly King

Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all: I shall not look vpon his like againe

Hor. My Lord, I thinke I saw him yesternight

Ham. Saw? Who? Hor. My Lord, the King your Father

Ham. The King my Father? Hor. Season your admiration for a while With an attent eare; till I may deliuer Vpon the witnesse of these Gentlemen, This maruell to you

Ham. For Heauens loue let me heare

Hor. Two nights together, had these Gentlemen (Marcellus and Barnardo) on their Watch In the dead wast and middle of the night Beene thus encountred. A figure like your Father, Arm'd at all points exactly, Cap a Pe, Appeares before them, and with sollemne march Goes slow and stately: By them thrice he walkt, By their opprest and feare-surprized eyes, Within his Truncheons length; whilst they bestil'd Almost to Ielly with the Act of feare, Stand dumbe and speake not to him. This to me In dreadfull secrecie impart they did, And I with them the third Night kept the Watch, Whereas they had deliuer'd both in time, Forme of the thing; each word made true and good, The Apparition comes. I knew your Father: These hands are not more like

Ham. But where was this? Mar. My Lord vpon the platforme where we watcht

Ham. Did you not speake to it? Hor. My Lord, I did; But answere made it none: yet once me thought It lifted vp it head, and did addresse It selfe to motion, like as it would speake: But euen then, the Morning Cocke crew lowd; And at the sound it shrunke in hast away, And vanisht from our sight

Ham. Tis very strange

Hor. As I doe liue my honourd Lord 'tis true; And we did thinke it writ downe in our duty To let you know of it

Ham. Indeed, indeed Sirs; but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to Night? Both. We doe my Lord

Ham. Arm'd, say you? Both. Arm'd, my Lord

Ham. From top to toe? Both. My Lord, from head to foote

Ham. Then saw you not his face? Hor. O yes, my Lord, he wore his Beauer vp

Ham. What, lookt he frowningly? Hor. A countenance more in sorrow then in anger

Ham. Pale, or red? Hor. Nay very pale

Ham. And fixt his eyes vpon you? Hor. Most constantly

Ham. I would I had beene there

Hor. It would haue much amaz'd you

Ham. Very like, very like: staid it long? Hor. While one with moderate hast might tell a hundred

All. Longer, longer

Hor. Not when I saw't

Ham. His Beard was grisly? no

Hor. It was, as I haue seene it in his life, A Sable Siluer'd

Ham. Ile watch to Night; perchance 'twill wake againe

Hor. I warrant you it will

Ham. If it assume my noble Fathers person, Ile speake to it, though Hell it selfe should gape And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, If you haue hitherto conceald this sight; Let it bee treble in your silence still: And whatsoeuer els shall hap to night, Giue it an vnderstanding but no tongue; I will requite your loues; so fare ye well: Vpon the Platforme twixt eleuen and twelue, Ile visit you

All. Our duty to your Honour.

Exeunt

Ham. Your loue, as mine to you: farewell. My Fathers Spirit in Armes? All is not well: I doubt some foule play: would the Night were come; Till then sit still my soule; foule deeds will rise, Though all the earth orewhelm them to mens eies. Enter.

Scena Tertia

Enter Laertes and Ophelia.

Laer. My necessaries are imbark't; Farewell: And Sister, as the Winds giue Benefit, And Conuoy is assistant; doe not sleepe, But let me heare from you

Ophel. Doe you doubt that? Laer. For Hamlet, and the trifling of his fauours, Hold it a fashion and a toy in Bloude; A Violet in the youth of Primy Nature; Froward, not permanent; sweet not lasting The suppliance of a minute? No more

Ophel. No more but so

Laer. Thinke it no more: For nature cressant does not grow alone, In thewes and Bulke: but as his Temple waxes, The inward seruice of the Minde and Soule Growes wide withall. Perhaps he loues you now, And now no soyle nor cautell doth besmerch The vertue of his feare: but you must feare His greatnesse weigh'd, his will is not his owne; For hee himselfe is subiect to his Birth: Hee may not, as vnuallued persons doe, Carue for himselfe; for, on his choyce depends The sanctity and health of the whole State. And therefore must his choyce be circumscrib'd Vnto the voyce and yeelding of that Body, Whereof he is the Head. Then if he sayes he loues you, It fits your wisedome so farre to beleeue it; As he in his peculiar Sect and force May giue his saying deed: which is no further, Then the maine voyce of Denmarke goes withall. Then weight what losse your Honour may sustaine, If with too credent eare you list his Songs; Or lose your Heart; or your chast Treasure open To his vnmastred importunity. Feare it Ophelia, feare it my deare Sister, And keepe within the reare of your Affection; Out of the shot and danger of Desire. The chariest Maid is Prodigall enough, If she vnmaske her beauty to the Moone: Vertue it selfe scapes not calumnious stroakes, The Canker Galls, the Infants of the Spring Too oft before the buttons be disclos'd, And in the Morne and liquid dew of Youth, Contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary then, best safety lies in feare; Youth to it selfe rebels, though none else neere

Ophe. I shall th' effect of this good Lesson keepe, As watchmen to my heart: but good my Brother Doe not as some vngracious Pastors doe, Shew me the steepe and thorny way to Heauen; Whilst like a puft and recklesse Libertine Himselfe, the Primrose path of dalliance treads, And reaks not his owne reade

Laer. Oh, feare me not. Enter Polonius.

I stay too long; but here my Father comes: A double blessing is a double grace; Occasion smiles vpon a second leaue

Polon. Yet heere Laertes? Aboord, aboord for shame, The winde sits in the shoulder of your saile, And you are staid for there: my blessing with you; And these few Precepts in thy memory, See thou Character. Giue thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any vnproportion'd thoughts his Act: Be thou familiar; but by no meanes vulgar: The friends thou hast, and their adoption tride, Grapple them to thy Soule, with hoopes of Steele: But doe not dull thy palme, with entertainment Of each vnhatch't, vnfledg'd Comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrell: but being in Bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee. Giue euery man thine eare; but few thy voyce: Take each mans censure; but reserue thy iudgement: Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy; But not exprest in fancie; rich, not gawdie: For the Apparell oft proclaimes the man. And they in France of the best ranck and station, Are of a most select and generous cheff in that. Neither a borrower, nor a lender be; For lone oft loses both it selfe and friend: And borrowing duls the edge of Husbandry. This aboue all; to thine owne selfe be true: And it must follow, as the Night the Day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell: my Blessing season this in thee

Laer. Most humbly doe I take my leaue, my Lord

Polon. The time inuites you, goe, your seruants tend

Laer. Farewell Ophelia, and remember well What I haue said to you

Ophe. Tis in my memory lockt, And you your selfe shall keepe the key of it

Laer. Farewell.

Exit Laer.

Polon. What ist Ophelia he hath said to you? Ophe. So please you, somthing touching the L[ord]. Hamlet

Polon. Marry, well bethought: Tis told me he hath very oft of late Giuen priuate time to you; and you your selfe Haue of your audience beene most free and bounteous. If it be so, as so tis put on me; And that in way of caution: I must tell you, You doe not vnderstand your selfe so cleerely, As it behoues my Daughter, and your Honour. What is betweene you, giue me vp the truth? Ophe. He hath my Lord of late, made many tenders Of his affection to me

Polon. Affection, puh. You speake like a greene Girle, Vnsifted in such perillous Circumstance. Doe you beleeue his tenders, as you call them? Ophe. I do not know, my Lord, what I should thinke

Polon. Marry Ile teach you; thinke your selfe a Baby, That you haue tane his tenders for true pay, Which are not starling. Tender your selfe more dearly; Or not to crack the winde of the poore Phrase, Roaming it thus, you'l tender me a foole

Ophe. My Lord, he hath importun'd me with loue, In honourable fashion

Polon. I, fashion you may call it, go too, go too

Ophe. And hath giuen countenance to his speech, My Lord, with all the vowes of Heauen

Polon. I, Springes to catch Woodcocks. I doe know When the Bloud burnes, how Prodigall the Soule Giues the tongue vowes: these blazes, Daughter, Giuing more light then heate; extinct in both, Euen in their promise, as it is a making; You must not take for fire. For this time Daughter, Be somewhat scanter of your Maiden presence; Set your entreatments at a higher rate, Then a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Beleeue so much in him, that he is young, And with a larger tether may he walke, Then may be giuen you. In few, Ophelia, Doe not beleeue his vowes; for they are Broakers, Not of the eye, which their Inuestments show: But meere implorators of vnholy Sutes, Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds, The better to beguile. This is for all: I would not, in plaine tearmes, from this time forth, Haue you so slander any moment leisure, As to giue words or talke with the Lord Hamlet: Looke too't, I charge you; come your wayes

Ophe. I shall obey my Lord.

Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus.

Ham. The Ayre bites shrewdly: is it very cold? Hor. It is a nipping and an eager ayre

Ham. What hower now? Hor. I thinke it lacks of twelue

Mar. No, it is strooke

Hor. Indeed I heard it not: then it drawes neere the season, Wherein the Spirit held his wont to walke. What does this meane my Lord? Ham. The King doth wake to night, and takes his rouse, Keepes wassels and the swaggering vpspring reeles, And as he dreines his draughts of Renish downe, The kettle Drum and Trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his Pledge

Horat. Is it a custome? Ham. I marry ist; And to my mind, though I am natiue heere, And to the manner borne: It is a Custome More honour'd in the breach, then the obseruance. Enter Ghost.

Hor. Looke my Lord, it comes

Ham. Angels and Ministers of Grace defend vs: Be thou a Spirit of health, or Goblin damn'd, Bring with thee ayres from Heauen, or blasts from Hell, Be thy euents wicked or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape That I will speake to thee. Ile call thee Hamlet, King, Father, Royall Dane: Oh, oh, answer me, Let me not burst in Ignorance; but tell Why thy Canoniz'd bones Hearsed in death, Haue burst their cerments, why the Sepulcher Wherein we saw thee quietly enurn'd, Hath op'd his ponderous and Marble iawes, To cast thee vp againe? What may this meane? That thou dead Coarse againe in compleat steele, Reuisits thus the glimpses of the Moone, Making Night hidious? And we fooles of Nature, So horridly to shake our disposition, With thoughts beyond thee; reaches of our Soules, Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we doe?

Ghost beckens Hamlet.

Hor. It beckons you to goe away with it, As if it some impartment did desire To you alone

Mar. Looke with what courteous action It wafts you to a more remoued ground: But doe not goe with it

Hor. No, by no meanes

Ham. It will not speake: then will I follow it

Hor. Doe not my Lord

Ham. Why, what should be the feare? I doe not set my life at a pins fee; And for my Soule, what can it doe to that? Being a thing immortall as it selfe: It waues me forth againe; Ile follow it

Hor. What if it tempt you toward the Floud my Lord? Or to the dreadfull Sonnet of the Cliffe, That beetles o're his base into the Sea, And there assumes some other horrible forme, Which might depriue your Soueraignty of Reason, And draw you into madnesse thinke of it? Ham. It wafts me still: goe on, Ile follow thee

Mar. You shall not goe my Lord

Ham. Hold off your hand

Hor. Be rul'd, you shall not goe

Ham. My fate cries out, And makes each petty Artire in this body, As hardy as the Nemian Lions nerue: Still am I cal'd? Vnhand me Gentlemen: By Heau'n, Ile make a Ghost of him that lets me: I say away, goe on, Ile follow thee.

Exeunt. Ghost & Hamlet.

Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination

Mar. Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him

Hor. Haue after, to what issue will this come? Mar. Something is rotten in the State of Denmarke

Hor. Heauen will direct it

Mar. Nay, let's follow him.

Exeunt.

Enter Ghost and Hamlet.

Ham. Where wilt thou lead me? speak; Ile go no further

Gho. Marke me

Ham. I will

Gho. My hower is almost come, When I to sulphurous and tormenting Flames Must render vp my selfe

Ham. Alas poore Ghost

Gho. Pitty me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall vnfold

Ham. Speake, I am bound to heare

Gho. So art thou to reuenge, when thou shalt heare

Ham. What? Gho. I am thy Fathers Spirit, Doom'd for a certaine terme to walke the night; And for the day confin'd to fast in Fiers, Till the foule crimes done in my dayes of Nature Are burnt and purg'd away? But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my Prison-House; I could a Tale vnfold, whose lightest word Would harrow vp thy soule, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes like Starres, start from their Spheres, Thy knotty and combined lockes to part, And each particular haire to stand an end, Like Quilles vpon the fretfull Porpentine: But this eternall blason must not be To eares of flesh and bloud; list Hamlet, oh list, If thou didst euer thy deare Father loue

Ham. Oh Heauen! Gho. Reuenge his foule and most vnnaturall Murther

Ham. Murther? Ghost. Murther most foule, as in the best it is; But this most foule, strange, and vnnaturall

Ham. Hast, hast me to know it, That with wings as swift As meditation, or the thoughts of Loue, May sweepe to my Reuenge

Ghost. I finde thee apt, And duller should'st thou be then the fat weede That rots it selfe in ease, on Lethe Wharfe, Would'st thou not stirre in this. Now Hamlet heare: It's giuen out, that sleeping in mine Orchard, A Serpent stung me: so the whole eare of Denmarke, Is by a forged processe of my death Rankly abus'd: But know thou Noble youth, The Serpent that did sting thy Fathers life, Now weares his Crowne

Ham. O my Propheticke soule: mine Vncle? Ghost. I that incestuous, that adulterate Beast With witchcraft of his wits, hath Traitorous guifts. Oh wicked Wit, and Gifts, that haue the power So to seduce? Won to this shamefull Lust The will of my most seeming vertuous Queene: Oh Hamlet, what a falling off was there, From me, whose loue was of that dignity, That it went hand in hand, euen with the Vow I made to her in Marriage; and to decline Vpon a wretch, whose Naturall gifts were poore To those of mine. But Vertue, as it neuer wil be moued, Though Lewdnesse court it in a shape of Heauen: So Lust, though to a radiant Angell link'd, Will sate it selfe in a Celestiall bed, & prey on Garbage. But soft, me thinkes I sent the Mornings Ayre; Briefe let me be: Sleeping within mine Orchard, My custome alwayes in the afternoone; Vpon my secure hower thy Vncle stole With iuyce of cursed Hebenon in a Violl, And in the Porches of mine eares did poure The leaperous Distilment; whose effect Holds such an enmity with bloud of Man, That swift as Quick-siluer, it courses through The naturall Gates and Allies of the body; And with a sodaine vigour it doth posset And curd, like Aygre droppings into Milke, The thin and wholsome blood: so did it mine; And a most instant Tetter bak'd about, Most Lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, All my smooth Body. Thus was I, sleeping, by a Brothers hand, Of Life, of Crowne, and Queene at once dispatcht; Cut off euen in the Blossomes of my Sinne, Vnhouzzled, disappointed, vnnaneld, No reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head; Oh horrible Oh horrible, most horrible: If thou hast nature in thee beare it not; Let not the Royall Bed of Denmarke be A Couch for Luxury and damned Incest. But howsoeuer thou pursuest this Act, Taint not thy mind; nor let thy Soule contriue Against thy Mother ought; leaue her to heauen, And to those Thornes that in her bosome lodge, To pricke and sting her. Fare thee well at once; The Glow-worme showes the Matine to be neere, And gins to pale his vneffectuall Fire: Adue, adue, Hamlet: remember me. Enter.

Ham. Oh all you host of Heauen! Oh Earth; what els? And shall I couple Hell? Oh fie: hold my heart; And you my sinnewes, grow not instant Old; But beare me stiffely vp: Remember thee? I, thou poore Ghost, while memory holds a seate In this distracted Globe: Remember thee? Yea, from the Table of my Memory, Ile wipe away all triuiall fond Records, All sawes of Bookes, all formes, all presures past, That youth and obseruation coppied there; And thy Commandment all alone shall liue Within the Booke and Volume of my Braine, Vnmixt with baser matter; yes yes, by Heauen: Oh most pernicious woman! Oh Villaine, Villaine, smiling damned Villaine! My Tables, my Tables; meet it is I set it downe, That one may smile, and smile and be a Villaine; At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmarke; So Vnckle there you are: now to my word; It is; Adue, Adue, Remember me: I haue sworn't

Hor. & Mar. within. My Lord, my Lord. Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Mar. Lord Hamlet

Hor. Heauen secure him

Mar. So be it

Hor. Illo, ho, ho, my Lord

Ham. Hillo, ho, ho, boy; come bird, come

Mar. How ist my Noble Lord? Hor. What newes, my Lord? Ham. Oh wonderfull! Hor. Good my Lord tell it

Ham. No you'l reueale it

Hor. Not I, my Lord, by Heauen

Mar. Nor I, my Lord

Ham. How say you then, would heart of man once think it? But you'l be secret? Both. I, by Heau'n, my Lord

Ham. There's nere a villaine dwelling in all Denmarke But hee's an arrant knaue

Hor. There needs no Ghost my Lord, come from the Graue, to tell vs this

Ham. Why right, you are i'th' right; And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands, and part: You, as your busines and desires shall point you: For euery man ha's businesse and desire, Such as it is: and for mine owne poore part, Looke you, Ile goe pray

Hor. These are but wild and hurling words, my Lord

Ham. I'm sorry they offend you heartily: Yes faith, heartily

Hor. There's no offence my Lord

Ham. Yes, by Saint Patricke, but there is my Lord, And much offence too, touching this Vision heere: It is an honest Ghost, that let me tell you: For your desire to know what is betweene vs, O'remaster't as you may. And now good friends, As you are Friends, Schollers and Soldiers, Giue me one poore request

Hor. What is't my Lord? we will

Ham. Neuer make known what you haue seen to night

Both. My Lord, we will not

Ham. Nay, but swear't

Hor. Infaith my Lord, not I

Mar. Nor I my Lord: in faith

Ham. Vpon my sword

Marcell. We haue sworne my Lord already

Ham. Indeed, vpon my sword, Indeed

Gho. Sweare.

Ghost cries vnder the Stage.

Ham. Ah ha boy, sayest thou so. Art thou there truepenny? Come one you here this fellow in the selleredge Consent to sweare

Hor. Propose the Oath my Lord

Ham. Neuer to speake of this that you haue seene. Sweare by my sword

Gho. Sweare

Ham. Hic & vbique? Then wee'l shift for grownd, Come hither Gentlemen, And lay your hands againe vpon my sword, Neuer to speake of this that you haue heard: Sweare by my Sword

Gho. Sweare

Ham. Well said old Mole, can'st worke i'th' ground so fast? A worthy Pioner, once more remoue good friends

Hor. Oh day and night: but this is wondrous strange

Ham. And therefore as a stranger giue it welcome. There are more things in Heauen and Earth, Horatio, Then are dream't of in our Philosophy. But come, Here as before, neuer so helpe you mercy, How strange or odde so ere I beare my selfe; (As I perchance heereafter shall thinke meet To put an Anticke disposition on:) That you at such time seeing me, neuer shall With Armes encombred thus, or thus, head shake; Or by pronouncing of some doubtfull Phrase; As well, we know, or we could and if we would, Or if we list to speake; or there be and if there might, Or such ambiguous giuing out to note, That you know ought of me; this not to doe: So grace and mercy at your most neede helpe you: Sweare

Ghost. Sweare

Ham. Rest, rest perturbed Spirit: so Gentlemen, With all my loue I doe commend me to you; And what so poore a man as Hamlet is, May doe t' expresse his loue and friending to you, God willing shall not lacke: let vs goe in together, And still your fingers on your lippes I pray, The time is out of ioynt: Oh cursed spight, That euer I was borne to set it right. Nay, come let's goe together.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Polonius, and Reynoldo.

Polon. Giue him his money, and these notes Reynoldo

Reynol. I will my Lord

Polon. You shall doe maruels wisely: good Reynoldo, Before you visite him you make inquiry Of his behauiour

Reynol. My Lord, I did intend it

Polon. Marry, well said; Very well said. Looke you Sir, Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who; what meanes; and where they keepe: What company, at what expence: and finding By this encompassement and drift of question, That they doe know my sonne: Come you more neerer Then your particular demands will touch it, Take you as 'twere some distant knowledge of him, And thus I know his father and his friends, And in part him. Doe you marke this Reynoldo? Reynol. I, very well my Lord