Laer. Drown’d! O where?
Queen. There is a Willow growes aslant a Brooke, That shewes his hore leaues in the glassie streame: There with fantasticke Garlands did she come, Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daysies, and long Purples, That liberall Shepheards giue a grosser name; But our cold Maids doe Dead Mens Fingers call them: There on the pendant boughes, her Coronet weeds Clambring to hang; an enuious sliuer broke, When downe the weedy Trophies, and her selfe, Fell in the weeping Brooke, her cloathes spred wide, And Mermaid-like, a while they bore her vp, Which time she chaunted snatches of old tunes, As one incapable of her owne distresse,
Or like a creature Natiue, and indued Vnto that Element: but long it could not be, Till that her garments, heauy with her drinke, Pul’d the poore wretch from her melodious buy, To muddy death
Laer. Alas then, is she drown’d?
Queen. Drown’d, drown’d
Laer. Too much of water hast thou poore Ophelia, And therefore I forbid my teares: but yet It is our tricke, Nature her custome holds, Let shame say what it will; when these are gone The woman will be out: Adue my Lord,
I haue a speech of fire, that faine would blaze, But that this folly doubts it.
Enter.
Kin. Let’s follow, Gertrude:
How much I had to doe to calme his rage? Now feare I this will giue it start againe; Therefore let’s follow.
Exeunt.
Enter two Clownes.
Clown. Is she to bee buried in Christian buriall, that wilfully seekes her owne saluation?
Other. I tell thee she is, and therefore make her Graue straight, the Crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Christian buriall
Clo. How can that be, vnlesse she drowned her selfe in her owne defence?
Other. Why ’tis found so
Clo. It must be Se offendendo, it cannot bee else: for heere lies the point; If I drowne my selfe wittingly, it argues an Act: and an Act hath three branches. It is an Act to doe and to performe; argall she drown’d her selfe wittingly
Other. Nay but heare you Goodman Deluer
Clown. Giue me leaue; heere lies the water; good: heere stands the man; good: If the man goe to this water and drowne himselfe; it is will he nill he, he goes; marke you that? But if the water come to him & drowne him; hee drownes not himselfe. Argall, hee that is not guilty of his owne death, shortens not his owne life
Other. But is this law?
Clo. I marry is’t, Crowners Quest Law
Other. Will you ha the truth on’t: if this had not beene a Gentlewoman, shee should haue beene buried out of Christian Buriall
Clo. Why there thou say’st. And the more pitty that great folke should haue countenance in this world to drowne or hang themselues, more then their euen Christian. Come, my Spade; there is no ancient Gentlemen, but Gardiners, Ditchers and Graue-makers; they hold vp Adams Profession
Other. Was he a Gentleman?
Clo. He was the first that euer bore Armes
Other. Why he had none
Clo. What, ar’t a Heathen? how doth thou vnderstand the Scripture? the Scripture sayes Adam dig’d; could hee digge without Armes? Ile put another question to thee; if thou answerest me not to the purpose, confesse thy selfe-
Other. Go too
Clo. What is he that builds stronger then either the Mason, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter? Other. The Gallowes maker; for that Frame outliues a thousand Tenants
Clo. I like thy wit well in good faith, the Gallowes does well; but how does it well? it does well to those that doe ill: now, thou dost ill to say the Gallowes is built stronger then the Church: Argall, the Gallowes may doe well to thee. Too’t againe, Come
Other. Who builds stronger then a Mason, a Shipwright, or a Carpenter?
Clo. I, tell me that, and vnyoake
Other. Marry, now I can tell
Clo. Too’t
Other. Masse, I cannot tell.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio a farre off.
Clo. Cudgell thy braines no more about it; for your dull Asse will not mend his pace with beating; and when you are ask’t this question next, say a Graue-maker: the Houses that he makes, lasts till Doomesday: go, get thee to Yaughan, fetch me a stoupe of Liquor.
Sings.
In youth when I did loue, did loue,
me thought it was very sweete:
To contract O the time for a my behoue, O me thought there was nothing meete
Ham. Ha’s this fellow no feeling of his businesse, that he sings at Graue-making?
Hor. Custome hath made it in him a property of easinesse
Ham. ‘Tis ee’n so; the hand of little Imployment hath the daintier sense
Clowne sings. But Age with his stealing steps hath caught me in his clutch:
And hath shipped me intill the Land, as if I had neuer beene such
Ham. That Scull had a tongue in it, and could sing once: how the knaue iowles it to th’ grownd, as if it were Caines Iaw-bone, that did the first murther: It might be the Pate of a Polititian which this Asse o’re Offices: one that could circumuent God, might it not? Hor. It might, my Lord
Ham. Or of a Courtier, which could say, Good Morrow sweet Lord: how dost thou, good Lord? this might be my Lord such a one, that prais’d my Lord such a ones Horse, when he meant to begge it; might it not? Hor. I, my Lord
Ham. Why ee’n so: and now my Lady Wormes, Chaplesse, and knockt about the Mazard with a Sextons Spade; heere’s fine Reuolution, if wee had the tricke to see’t. Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but to play at Loggets with ’em? mine ake to thinke on’t
Clowne sings. A Pickhaxe and a Spade, a Spade, for and a shrowding-Sheete:
O a Pit of Clay for to be made,
for such a Guest is meete
Ham. There’s another: why might not that bee the Scull of a Lawyer? where be his Quiddits now? his Quillets? his Cases? his Tenures, and his Tricks? why doe’s he suffer this rude knaue now to knocke him about the Sconce with a dirty Shouell, and will not tell him of his Action of Battery? hum. This fellow might be in’s time a great buyer of Land, with his Statutes, his Recognizances, his Fines, his double Vouchers, his Recoueries: Is this the fine of his Fines, and the recouery of his Recoueries, to haue his fine Pate full of fine Dirt? will his Vouchers vouch him no more of his Purchases, and double ones too, then the length and breadth of a paire of Indentures? the very Conueyances of his Lands will hardly lye in this Boxe; and must the Inheritor himselfe haue no more? ha?
Hor. Not a iot more, my Lord
Ham. Is not Parchment made of Sheep-skinnes? Hor. I my Lord, and of Calue-skinnes too
Ham. They are Sheepe and Calues that seek out assurance in that. I will speake to this fellow: whose Graue’s this Sir?
Clo. Mine Sir:
O a Pit of Clay for to be made,
for such a Guest is meete
Ham. I thinke it be thine indeed: for thou liest in’t
Clo. You lye out on’t Sir, and therefore it is not yours: for my part, I doe not lye in’t; and yet it is mine
Ham. Thou dost lye in’t, to be in’t and say ’tis thine: ’tis for the dead, not for the quicke, therefore thou lyest
Clo. ‘Tis a quicke lye Sir, ’twill away againe from me to you
Ham. What man dost thou digge it for? Clo. For no man Sir
Ham. What woman then?
Clo. For none neither
Ham. Who is to be buried in’t?
Clo. One that was a woman Sir; but rest her Soule, shee’s dead
Ham. How absolute the knaue is? wee must speake by the Carde, or equiuocation will vndoe vs: by the Lord Horatio, these three yeares I haue taken note of it, the Age is growne so picked, that the toe of the Pesant comes so neere the heeles of our Courtier, hee galls his Kibe. How long hast thou been a Graue-maker? Clo. Of all the dayes i’th’ yeare, I came too’t that day that our last King Hamlet o’recame Fortinbras
Ham. How long is that since?
Clo. Cannot you tell that? euery foole can tell that: It was the very day, that young Hamlet was borne, hee that was mad, and sent into England
Ham. I marry, why was he sent into England? Clo. Why, because he was mad; hee shall recouer his wits there; or if he do not, it’s no great matter there
Ham. Why?
Clo. ‘Twill not be seene in him, there the men are as mad as he
Ham. How came he mad?
Clo. Very strangely they say
Ham. How strangely?
Clo. Faith e’ene with loosing his wits
Ham. Vpon what ground?
Clo. Why heere in Denmarke: I haue bin sixeteene heere, man and Boy thirty yeares
Ham. How long will a man lie i’th’ earth ere he rot? Clo. Ifaith, if he be not rotten before he die (as we haue many pocky Coarses now adaies, that will scarce hold the laying in) he will last you some eight yeare, or nine yeare. A Tanner will last you nine yeare
Ham. Why he, more then another?
Clo. Why sir, his hide is so tan’d with his Trade, that he will keepe out water a great while. And your water, is a sore Decayer of your horson dead body. Heres a Scull now: this Scul, has laine in the earth three & twenty years
Ham. Whose was it?
Clo. A whoreson mad Fellowes it was; Whose doe you thinke it was?
Ham. Nay, I know not
Clo. A pestilence on him for a mad Rogue, a pour’d a Flaggon of Renish on my head once. This same Scull Sir, this same Scull sir, was Yoricks Scull, the Kings Iester
Ham. This?
Clo. E’ene that
Ham. Let me see. Alas poore Yorick, I knew him Horatio, a fellow of infinite Iest; of most excellent fancy, he hath borne me on his backe a thousand times: And how abhorred my Imagination is, my gorge rises at it. Heere hung those lipps, that I haue kist I know not how oft. Where be your Iibes now? Your Gambals? Your Songs? Your flashes of Merriment that were wont to set the Table on a Rore? No one now to mock your own Ieering? Quite chopfalne? Now get you to my Ladies Chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this fauour she must come. Make her laugh at that: prythee Horatio tell me one thing
Hor. What’s that my Lord?
Ham. Dost thou thinke Alexander lookt o’this fashion i’th’ earth?
Hor. E’ene so
Ham. And smelt so? Puh
Hor. E’ene so, my Lord
Ham. To what base vses we may returne Horatio. Why may not Imagination trace the Noble dust of Alexander, till he find it stopping a bunghole
Hor. ‘Twere to consider: to curiously to consider so
Ham. No faith, not a iot. But to follow him thether with modestie enough, & likeliehood to lead it; as thus. Alexander died: Alexander was buried: Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make Lome, and why of that Lome (whereto he was conuerted) might they not stopp a Beere-barrell?
Imperiall Caesar, dead and turn’d to clay, Might stop a hole to keepe the winde away. Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a Wall, t’ expell the winters flaw. But soft, but soft, aside; heere comes the King. Enter King, Queene, Laertes, and a Coffin, with Lords attendant.
The Queene, the Courtiers. Who is that they follow, And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken, The Coarse they follow, did with disperate hand, Fore do it owne life; ’twas some Estate. Couch we a while, and mark
Laer. What Cerimony else?
Ham. That is Laertes, a very Noble youth: Marke
Laer. What Cerimony else?
Priest. Her Obsequies haue bin as farre inlarg’d. As we haue warrantie, her death was doubtfull, And but that great Command, o’re-swaies the order, She should in ground vnsanctified haue lodg’d, Till the last Trumpet. For charitable praier, Shardes, Flints, and Peebles, should be throwne on her: Yet heere she is allowed her Virgin Rites, Her Maiden strewments, and the bringing home Of Bell and Buriall
Laer. Must there no more be done ?
Priest. No more be done:
We should prophane the seruice of the dead, To sing sage Requiem, and such rest to her As to peace-parted Soules
Laer. Lay her i’th’ earth,
And from her faire and vnpolluted flesh, May Violets spring. I tell thee (churlish Priest) A Ministring Angell shall my Sister be,
When thou liest howling?
Ham. What, the faire Ophelia?
Queene. Sweets, to the sweet farewell. I hop’d thou should’st haue bin my Hamlets wife: I thought thy Bride-bed to haue deckt (sweet Maid) And not t’haue strew’d thy Graue
Laer. Oh terrible woer,
Fall ten times trebble, on that cursed head Whose wicked deed, thy most Ingenious sence Depriu’d thee of. Hold off the earth a while, Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes:
Leaps in the graue.
Now pile your dust, vpon the quicke, and dead, Till of this flat a Mountaine you haue made, To o’re top old Pelion, or the skyish head Of blew Olympus
Ham. What is he, whose griefes
Beares such an Emphasis? whose phrase of Sorrow Coniure the wandring Starres, and makes them stand Like wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,
Hamlet the Dane
Laer. The deuill take thy soule
Ham. Thou prai’st not well,
I prythee take thy fingers from my throat; Sir though I am not Spleenatiue, and rash, Yet haue I something in me dangerous,
Which let thy wisenesse feare. Away thy hand
King. Pluck them asunder
Qu. Hamlet, Hamlet
Gen. Good my Lord be quiet
Ham. Why I will fight with him vppon this Theme. Vntill my eielids will no longer wag
Qu. Oh my Sonne, what Theame?
Ham. I lou’d Ophelia; fortie thousand Brothers Could not (with all there quantitie of Loue) Make vp my summe. What wilt thou do for her? King. Oh he is mad Laertes,
Qu. For loue of God forbeare him
Ham. Come show me what thou’lt doe. Woo’t weepe? Woo’t fight? Woo’t teare thy selfe? Woo’t drinke vp Esile, eate a Crocodile? Ile doo’t. Dost thou come heere to whine; To outface me with leaping in her Graue? Be buried quicke with her, and so will I. And if thou prate of Mountaines; let them throw Millions of Akers on vs; till our ground Sindging his pate against the burning Zone, Make Ossa like a wart. Nay, and thou’lt mouth, Ile rant as well as thou
Kin. This is meere Madnesse:
And thus awhile the fit will worke on him: Anon as patient as the female Doue,
When that her Golden Cuplet are disclos’d; His silence will sit drooping
Ham. Heare you Sir:
What is the reason that you vse me thus? I lou’d you euer; but it is no matter:
Let Hercules himselfe doe what he may, The Cat will Mew, and Dogge will haue his day. Enter.
Kin. I pray you good Horatio wait vpon him, Strengthen your patience in our last nights speech, Wee’l put the matter to the present push: Good Gertrude set some watch ouer your Sonne, This Graue shall haue a liuing Monument: An houre of quiet shortly shall we see;
Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt.
Enter Hamlet and Horatio
Ham. So much for this Sir; now let me see the other, You doe remember all the Circumstance
Hor. Remember it my Lord?
Ham. Sir, in my heart there was a kinde of fighting, That would not let me sleepe; me thought I lay Worse then the mutines in the Bilboes, rashly, (And praise be rashnesse for it) let vs know, Our indiscretion sometimes serues vs well, When our deare plots do paule, and that should teach vs, There’s a Diuinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will
Hor. That is most certaine
Ham. Vp from my Cabin
My sea-gowne scarft about me in the darke, Grop’d I to finde out them; had my desire, Finger’d their Packet, and in fine, withdrew To mine owne roome againe, making so bold, (My feares forgetting manners) to vnseale Their grand Commission, where I found Horatio, Oh royall knauery: An exact command,
Larded with many seuerall sorts of reason; Importing Denmarks health, and Englands too, With hoo, such Bugges and Goblins in my life, That on the superuize no leasure bated,
No not to stay the grinding of the Axe, My head should be struck off
Hor. Ist possible?
Ham. Here’s the Commission, read it at more leysure: But wilt thou heare me how I did proceed? Hor. I beseech you
Ham. Being thus benetted round with Villaines, Ere I could make a Prologue to my braines, They had begun the Play. I sate me downe, Deuis’d a new Commission, wrote it faire, I once did hold it as our Statists doe,
A basenesse to write faire; and laboured much How to forget that learning: but Sir now, It did me Yeomans seriuce: wilt thou know The effects of what I wrote?
Hor. I, good my Lord
Ham. An earnest Coniuration from the King, As England was his faithfull Tributary,
As loue betweene them, as the Palme should flourish, As Peace should still her wheaten Garland weare, And stand a Comma ‘tweene their amities, And many such like Assis of great charge, That on the view and know of these Contents, Without debatement further, more or lesse, He should the bearers put to sodaine death, Not shriuing time allowed
Hor. How was this seal’d?
Ham. Why, euen in that was Heauen ordinate; I had my fathers Signet in my Purse,
Which was the Modell of that Danish Seale: Folded the Writ vp in forme of the other, Subscrib’d it, gau’t th’ impression, plac’t it safely, The changeling neuer knowne: Now, the next day Was our Sea Fight, and what to this was sement, Thou know’st already
Hor. So Guildensterne and Rosincrance, go too’t
Ham. Why man, they did make loue to this imployment They are not neere my Conscience; their debate Doth by their owne insinuation grow:
‘Tis dangerous, when the baser nature comes Betweene the passe, and fell incensed points Of mighty opposites
Hor. Why, what a King is this?
Ham. Does it not, thinkst thee, stand me now vpon He that hath kil’d my King, and whor’d my Mother, Popt in betweene th’ election and my hopes, Throwne out his Angle for my proper life, And with such coozenage; is’t not perfect conscience, To quit him with this arme? And is’t not to be damn’d To let this Canker of our nature come
In further euill
Hor. It must be shortly knowne to him from England What is the issue of the businesse there
Ham. It will be short,
The interim’s mine, and a mans life’s no more Then to say one: but I am very sorry good Horatio, That to Laertes I forgot my selfe;
For by the image of my Cause, I see The Portraiture of his; Ile count his fauours: But sure the brauery of his griefe did put me Into a Towring passion
Hor. Peace, who comes heere?
Enter young Osricke.
Osr. Your Lordship is right welcome back to Denmarke
Ham. I humbly thank you Sir, dost know this waterflie? Hor. No my good Lord
Ham. Thy state is the more gracious; for ’tis a vice to know him: he hath much Land, and fertile; let a Beast be Lord of Beasts, and his Crib shall stand at the Kings Messe; ’tis a Chowgh; but as I saw spacious in the possession of dirt
Osr. Sweet Lord, if your friendship were at leysure, I should impart a thing to you from his Maiesty
Ham. I will receiue it with all diligence of spirit; put your Bonet to his right vse, ’tis for the head
Osr. I thanke your Lordship, ’tis very hot
Ham. No, beleeue mee ’tis very cold, the winde is Northerly
Osr. It is indifferent cold my Lord indeed
Ham. Mee thinkes it is very soultry, and hot for my Complexion
Osr. Exceedingly, my Lord, it is very soultry, as ’twere I cannot tell how: but my Lord, his Maiesty bad me signifie to you, that he ha’s laid a great wager on your head: Sir, this is the matter
Ham. I beseech you remember
Osr. Nay, in good faith, for mine ease in good faith: Sir, you are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is at his weapon
Ham. What’s his weapon?
Osr. Rapier and dagger
Ham. That’s two of his weapons; but well
Osr. The sir King ha’s wag’d with him six Barbary horses, against the which he impon’d as I take it, sixe French Rapiers and Poniards, with their assignes, as Girdle, Hangers or so: three of the Carriages infaith are very deare to fancy, very responsiue to the hilts, most delicate carriages, and of very liberall conceit
Ham. What call you the Carriages?
Osr. The Carriages Sir, are the hangers
Ham. The phrase would bee more Germaine to the matter: If we could carry Cannon by our sides; I would it might be Hangers till then; but on sixe Barbary Horses against sixe French Swords: their Assignes, and three liberall conceited Carriages, that’s the French but against the Danish; why is this impon’d as you call it? Osr. The King Sir, hath laid that in a dozen passes betweene you and him, hee shall not exceed you three hits; He hath one twelue for mine, and that would come to imediate tryall, if your Lordship would vouchsafe the Answere
Ham. How if I answere no?
Osr. I meane my Lord, the opposition of your person in tryall
Ham. Sir, I will walke heere in the Hall; if it please his Maiestie, ’tis the breathing time of day with me; let the Foyles bee brought, the Gentleman willing, and the King hold his purpose; I will win for him if I can: if not, Ile gaine nothing but my shame, and the odde hits
Osr. Shall I redeliuer you ee’n so? Ham. To this effect Sir, after what flourish your nature will
Osr. I commend my duty to your Lordship
Ham. Yours, yours; hee does well to commend it himselfe, there are no tongues else for’s tongue
Hor. This Lapwing runs away with the shell on his head
Ham. He did Complie with his Dugge before hee suck’t it: thus had he and mine more of the same Beauty that I know the drossie age dotes on; only got the tune of the time, and outward habite of encounter, a kinde of yesty collection, which carries them through & through the most fond and winnowed opinions; and doe but blow them to their tryalls: the Bubbles are out
Hor. You will lose this wager, my Lord
Ham. I doe not thinke so, since he went into France, I haue beene in continuall practice; I shall winne at the oddes: but thou wouldest not thinke how all heere about my heart: but it is no matter
Hor. Nay, good my Lord
Ham. It is but foolery; but it is such a kinde of gain-giuing as would perhaps trouble a woman
Hor. If your minde dislike any thing, obey. I will forestall their repaire hither, and say you are not fit
Ham. Not a whit, we defie Augury; there’s a speciall Prouidence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, ’tis not to come: if it bee not to come, it will bee now: if it be not now; yet it will come; the readinesse is all, since no man ha’s ought of what he leaues. What is’t to leaue betimes? Enter King, Queene, Laertes and Lords, with other Attendants with Foyles,
and Gauntlets, a Table and Flagons of Wine on it.
Kin. Come Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me
Ham. Giue me your pardon Sir, I’ue done you wrong, But pardon’t as you are a Gentleman.
This presence knowes,
And you must needs haue heard how I am punisht With sore distraction? What I haue done
That might your nature honour, and exception Roughly awake, I heere proclaime was madnesse: Was’t Hamlet wrong’d Laertes? Neuer Hamlet. If Hamlet from himselfe be tane away:
And when he’s not himselfe, do’s wrong Laertes, Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it: Who does it then? His Madnesse? If’t be so, Hamlet is of the Faction that is wrong’d, His madnesse is poore Hamlets Enemy.
Sir, in this Audience,
Let my disclaiming from a purpos’d euill, Free me so farre in your most generous thoughts, That I haue shot mine Arrow o’re the house, And hurt my Mother
Laer. I am satisfied in Nature,
Whose motiue in this case should stirre me most To my Reuenge. But in my termes of Honor I stand aloofe, and will no reconcilement, Till by some elder Masters of knowne Honor, I haue a voyce, and president of peace
To keepe my name vngorg’d. But till that time, I do receiue your offer’d loue like loue, And wil not wrong it
Ham. I do embrace it freely,
And will this Brothers wager frankely play. Giue vs the Foyles: Come on
Laer. Come one for me
Ham. Ile be your foile Laertes, in mine ignorance, Your Skill shall like a Starre i’th’ darkest night, Sticke fiery off indeede
Laer. You mocke me Sir
Ham. No by this hand
King. Giue them the Foyles yong Osricke, Cousen Hamlet, you know the wager
Ham. Verie well my Lord,
Your Grace hath laide the oddes a’th’ weaker side
King. I do not feare it,
I haue seene you both:
But since he is better’d, we haue therefore oddes
Laer. This is too heauy,
Let me see another
Ham. This likes me well,
These Foyles haue all a length.
Prepare to play.
Osricke. I my good Lord
King. Set me the Stopes of wine vpon that Table: If Hamlet giue the first, or second hit, Or quit in answer of the third exchange, Let all the Battlements their Ordinance fire, The King shal drinke to Hamlets better breath, And in the Cup an vnion shal he throw
Richer then that, which foure successiue Kings In Denmarkes Crowne haue worne.
Giue me the Cups,
And let the Kettle to the Trumpets speake, The Trumpet to the Cannoneer without,
The Cannons to the Heauens, the Heauen to Earth, Now the King drinkes to Hamlet. Come, begin, And you the Iudges beare a wary eye
Ham. Come on sir
Laer. Come on sir.
They play.
Ham. One
Laer. No
Ham. Iudgement
Osr. A hit, a very palpable hit
Laer. Well: againe
King. Stay, giue me drinke.
Hamlet, this Pearle is thine,
Here’s to thy health. Giue him the cup,
Trumpets sound, and shot goes off.
Ham. Ile play this bout first, set by a-while. Come: Another hit; what say you?
Laer. A touch, a touch, I do confesse
King. Our Sonne shall win
Qu. He’s fat, and scant of breath.
Heere’s a Napkin, rub thy browes,
The Queene Carowses to thy fortune, Hamlet
Ham. Good Madam
King. Gertrude, do not drinke
Qu. I will my Lord;
I pray you pardon me
King. It is the poyson’d Cup, it is too late
Ham. I dare not drinke yet Madam,
By and by
Qu. Come, let me wipe thy face
Laer. My Lord, Ile hit him now
King. I do not thinke’t
Laer. And yet ’tis almost ‘gainst my conscience
Ham. Come for the third.
Laertes, you but dally,
I pray you passe with your best violence, I am affear’d you make a wanton of me
Laer. Say you so? Come on.
Play.
Osr. Nothing neither way
Laer. Haue at you now.
In scuffling they change Rapiers.
King. Part them, they are incens’d
Ham. Nay come, againe
Osr. Looke to the Queene there hoa
Hor. They bleed on both sides. How is’t my Lord? Osr. How is’t Laertes?
Laer. Why as a Woodcocke
To mine Sprindge, Osricke,
I am iustly kill’d with mine owne Treacherie
Ham. How does the Queene?
King. She sounds to see them bleede
Qu. No, no, the drinke, the drinke. Oh my deere Hamlet, the drinke, the drinke, I am poyson’d
Ham. Oh Villany! How? Let the doore be lock’d. Treacherie, seeke it out
Laer. It is heere Hamlet.
Hamlet, thou art slaine,
No Medicine in the world can do thee good. In thee, there is not halfe an houre of life; The Treacherous Instrument is in thy hand, Vnbated and envenom’d: the foule practise Hath turn’d it selfe on me. Loe, heere I lye, Neuer to rise againe: Thy Mothers poyson’d: I can no more, the King, the King’s too blame
Ham. The point envenom’d too,
Then venome to thy worke.
Hurts the King.
All. Treason, Treason
King. O yet defend me Friends, I am but hurt
Ham. Heere thou incestuous, murdrous, Damned Dane,
Drinke off this Potion: Is thy Vnion heere? Follow my Mother.
King Dyes.
Laer. He is iustly seru’d.
It is a poyson temp’red by himselfe: Exchange forgiuenesse with me, Noble Hamlet; Mine and my Fathers death come not vpon thee, Nor thine on me.
Dyes.
Ham. Heauen make thee free of it, I follow thee. I am dead Horatio, wretched Queene adiew, You that looke pale, and tremble at this chance, That are but Mutes or audience to this acte: Had I but time (as this fell Sergeant death Is strick’d in his Arrest) oh I could tell you. But let it be: Horatio, I am dead,
Thou liu’st, report me and my causes right To the vnsatisfied
Hor. Neuer beleeue it.
I am more an Antike Roman then a Dane: Heere’s yet some Liquor left
Ham. As th’art a man, giue me the Cup. Let go, by Heauen Ile haue’t.
Oh good Horatio, what a wounded name, (Things standing thus vnknowne) shall liue behind me. If thou did’st euer hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicitie awhile,
And in this harsh world draw thy breath in paine, To tell my Storie.
March afarre off, and shout within.
What warlike noyse is this?
Enter Osricke.
Osr. Yong Fortinbras, with conquest come fro[m] Poland To th’ Ambassadors of England giues this warlike volly
Ham. O I dye Horatio:
The potent poyson quite ore-crowes my spirit, I cannot liue to heare the Newes from England, But I do prophesie th’ election lights
On Fortinbras, he ha’s my dying voyce, So tell him with the occurrents more and lesse, Which haue solicited. The rest is silence. O, o, o, o.
Dyes
Hora. Now cracke a Noble heart:
Goodnight sweet Prince,
And flights of Angels sing thee to thy rest, Why do’s the Drumme come hither?
Enter Fortinbras and English Ambassador, with Drumme, Colours, and
Attendants.
Fortin. Where is this sight?
Hor. What is it ye would see;
If ought of woe, or wonder, cease your search
For. His quarry cries on hauocke. Oh proud death, What feast is toward in thine eternall Cell. That thou so many Princes, at a shoote,
So bloodily hast strooke
Amb. The sight is dismall,
And our affaires from England come too late, The eares are senselesse that should giue vs hearing, To tell him his command’ment is fulfill’d, That Rosincrance and Guildensterne are dead: Where should we haue our thankes?
Hor. Not from his mouth,
Had it th’ abilitie of life to thanke you: He neuer gaue command’ment for their death. But since so iumpe vpon this bloodie question, You from the Polake warres, and you from England Are heere arriued. Giue order that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view,
And let me speake to th’ yet vnknowing world, How these things came about. So shall you heare Of carnall, bloudie, and vnnaturall acts, Of accidentall iudgements, casuall slaughters Of death’s put on by cunning, and forc’d cause, And in this vpshot, purposes mistooke,
Falne on the Inuentors head. All this can I Truly deliuer
For. Let vs hast to heare it,
And call the Noblest to the Audience. For me, with sorrow, I embrace my Fortune, I haue some Rites of memory in this Kingdome, Which are to claime, my vantage doth
Inuite me,
Hor. Of that I shall haue alwayes cause to speake, And from his mouth
Whose voyce will draw on more:
But let this same be presently perform’d, Euen whiles mens mindes are wilde,
Lest more mischance
On plots, and errors happen
For. Let foure Captaines
Beare Hamlet like a Soldier to the Stage, For he was likely, had he beene put on
To haue prou’d most royally:
And for his passage,
The Souldiours Musicke, and the rites of Warre Speake lowdly for him.
Take vp the body; Such a sight as this Becomes the Field, but heere shewes much amis. Go, bid the Souldiers shoote.
Exeunt. Marching: after the which, a Peale of Ordenance are shot off.
FINIS. The tragedie of HAMLET, Prince of Denmarke.