|
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! |
|
|
I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune; |
|
|
Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger. |
|
|
Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down, |
|
|
And let me wring your heart; for so I shall, |
|
|
If it be made of penetrable stuff, |
|
|
If damned custom have not brass'd it so |
|
|
That it is proof and bulwark against sense. |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue |
|
|
In noise so rude against me? |
|
| HAMLET |
Such an act |
40 |
|
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, |
|
|
Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose |
|
|
From the fair forehead of an innocent love |
|
|
And sets a blister there, makes marriage–vows |
|
|
As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed |
|
|
As from the body of contraction plucks |
|
|
The very soul, and sweet religion makes |
|
|
A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow: |
|
|
Yea, this solidity and compound mass, |
|
|
With tristful visage, as against the doom, |
50 |
|
Is thought–sick at the act. |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
Ay me, what act, |
|
|
That roars so loud, and thunders in the index? |
|
| HAMLET |
Look here, upon this picture, and on this, |
|
|
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. |
|
|
See, what a grace was seated on this brow; |
|
|
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; |
|
|
An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; |
|
|
A station like the herald Mercury |
|
|
New–lighted on a heaven–kissing hill; |
|
|
A combination and a form indeed, |
60 |
|
Where every god did seem to set his seal, |
|
|
To give the world assurance of a man: |
|
|
This was your husband. Look you now, what follows: |
|
|
Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear, |
|
|
Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? |
|
|
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, |
|
|
And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? |
|
|
You cannot call it love; for at your age |
|
|
The hey–day in the blood is tame, it's humble, |
|
|
And waits upon the judgement: and what judgement |
70 |
|
Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have, |
|
|
Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense |
|
|
Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err, |
|
|
Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd |
|
|
But it reserved some quantity of choice, |
|
|
To serve in such a difference. What devil was't |
|
|
That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman–blind? |
|
|
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, |
|
|
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, |
|
|
Or but a sickly part of one true sense |
80 |
|
Could not so mope. |
|
|
O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, |
|
|
If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, |
|
|
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, |
|
|
And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame |
|
|
When the compulsive ardour gives the charge, |
|
|
Since frost itself as actively doth burn |
|
|
And reason panders will. |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
O Hamlet, speak no more: |
|
|
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; |
|
|
And there I see such black and grained spots |
|
|
As will not leave their tinct. |
|
| HAMLET |
Nay, but to live |
|
|
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed, |
|
|
Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love |
|
|
Over the nasty sty,–– |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
O, speak to me no more; |
|
|
These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears; |
|
|
No more, sweet Hamlet! |
93 |
| HAMLET |
A murderer and a villain; |
|
|
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe |
|
|
Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings; |
|
|
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, |
|
|
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, |
|
|
And put it in his pocket! |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
No more! |
|
| HAMLET |
A king of shreds and patches,–– |
|
| [Enter Ghost] |
|
|
|
Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, |
100 |
|
You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure? |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
Alas, he's mad! |
|
| HAMLET |
Do you not come your tardy son to chide, |
|
|
That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by |
|
|
The important acting of your dread command? O, say! |
|
| Ghost |
Do not forget: this visitation |
|
|
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. |
|
|
But, look, amazement on thy mother sits: |
|
|
O, step between her and her fighting soul: |
110 |
|
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works: |
|
|
Speak to her, Hamlet. |
|
| HAMLET |
How is it with you, lady? |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
Alas, how is't with you, |
|
|
That you do bend your eye on vacancy |
|
|
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? |
|
|
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep; |
|
|
And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, |
|
|
Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, |
|
|
Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, |
|
|
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper |
120 |
|
Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look? |
|
| HAMLET |
On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares! |
|
|
His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, |
|
|
Would make them capable. Do not look upon me; |
|
|
Lest with this piteous action you convert |
|
|
My stern effects: then what I have to do |
|
|
Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
To whom do you speak this? |
|
| HAMLET |
Do you see nothing there? |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
Nothing at all; yet all that is I see. |
129 |
| HAMLET |
Nor did you nothing hear? |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
No, nothing but ourselves. |
|
| HAMLET |
Why, look you there! look, how it steals away! |
|
|
My father, in his habit as he lived! |
|
|
Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! |
|
| [Exit Ghost] |
|
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
This the very coinage of your brain: |
|
|
This bodiless creation ecstasy |
|
|
Is very cunning in. |
|
| HAMLET |
Ecstasy! |
|
|
My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, |
|
|
And makes as healthful music: it is not madness |
|
|
That I have utter'd: bring me to the test, |
|
|
And I the matter will re–word; which madness |
140 |
|
Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, |
|
|
Lay not that mattering unction to your soul, |
|
|
That not your trespass, but my madness speaks: |
|
|
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, |
|
|
Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, |
|
|
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven; |
|
|
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come; |
|
|
And do not spread the compost on the weeds, |
|
|
To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue; |
|
|
For in the fatness of these pursy times |
150 |
|
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, |
|
|
Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. |
|
| HAMLET |
O, throw away the worser part of it, |
|
|
And live the purer with the other half. |
|
|
Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed; |
|
|
Assume a virtue, if you have it not. |
|
|
That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, |
|
|
Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, |
|
|
That to the use of actions fair and good |
160 |
|
He likewise gives a frock or livery, |
|
|
That aptly is put on. Refrain to–night, |
|
|
And that shall lend a kind of easiness |
|
|
To the next abstinence: the next more easy; |
|
|
For use almost can change the stamp of nature, |
|
|
And either … the devil, or throw him out |
|
|
With wondrous potency. Once more, good night: |
|
|
And when you are desirous to be bless'd, |
|
|
I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord, |
|
| [Pointing to POLONIUS] |
|
|
|
I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so, |
|
|
To punish me with this and this with me, |
|
|
That I must be their scourge and minister. |
|
|
I will bestow him, and will answer well |
|
|
The death I gave him. So, again, good night. |
|
|
I must be cruel, only to be kind: |
|
|
Thus bad begins and worse remains behind. |
|
|
One word more, good lady. |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
What shall I do? |
|
| HAMLET |
Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: |
|
|
Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed; |
|
|
Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse; |
|
|
And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, |
|
|
Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers, |
|
|
Make you to ravel all this matter out, |
|
|
That I essentially am not in madness, |
180 |
|
But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know; |
|
|
For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise, |
|
|
Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, |
|
|
Such dear concernings hide? who would do so? |
|
|
No, in despite of sense and secrecy, |
|
|
Unpeg the basket on the house's top. |
|
|
Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape, |
|
|
To try conclusions, in the basket creep, |
|
|
And break your own neck down. |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
Be thou assured, if words be made of breath, |
190 |
|
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe |
|
|
What thou hast said to me. |
|
| HAMLET |
I must to England; you know that? |
|
| QUEEN GERTRUDE |
Alack, |
|
|
I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on. |
|
| HAMLET |
There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows, |
|
|
Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd, |
|
|
They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way, |
|
|
And marshal me to knavery. Let it work; |
|
|
For 'tis the sport to have the engineer |
|
|
Hoist with his own petar: and 't shall go hard |
200 |
|
But I will delve one yard below their mines, |
|
|
And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet, |
|
|
When in one line two crafts directly meet. |
|
|
This man shall set me packing: |
|
|
I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room. |
|
|
Mother, good night. Indeed this counsellor |
|
|
Is now most still, most secret and most grave, |
|
|
Who was in life a foolish prating knave. |
|
|
Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you. |
|
|
Good night, mother. |
210 |
[Exeunt severally; HAMLET dragging in POLONIUS]