What might be toward that this sweaty haste Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day; Who is 't that can inform me?

Hor.

That can I;
At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king,
Whose image even but now appear'd to us,
Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,
Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,
Dar'd to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet
(For so this side of our known world esteem'd him)
Did slay this Fortinbras; who, by a seal'd compact,
Well ratified by law, and heraldry,

Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands,
Which he stood seiz'd on, to the conqueror:
Against the which, a moiety competent
Was gaged by our king; which had return'd
To the inheritance of Fortinbras,
Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same cov'nant
And carriage of the article design'd,
His fell to Hamlet: Now, sir, young Fortinbras,
Of unimproved inettle hot and full,

Hath in the skirts of Norway, here and there,
Shark'd up a list of landless resolutes,
For food and diet, to some enterprize
That hath a stomach in 't: which is no other
(And it doth well appear unto our state,)
But to recover of us, by strong hand,
And terins compulsative, those 'foresaid lands
So by his father lost: And this, I take it,

Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long:
And then, they say, no spirit can walk abread;
The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

Hor. So have I heard, and do in part believe it.
But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,
Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill:
Break we our watch up; and, by my advice,
Let us impart what we have seen to-night
Unto young Hamlet for, upon my life,
This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him:
Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,
As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?
Mar. Let's do 't, I pray and I this morning know
Where we shall find him most conveniently. [Exe.

SCENE II.-The same. A Room of State in the

Is the main motive of our preparations;

The source of this our watch; and the chief head

Well may it sort, that this portentous figure

Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature, That we with wisest sorrow think on him, Together with remembrance of ourselves. Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, The imperial jointress of this warlike state, Have we, as 't were, with a defeated joy,

That was, and is, the question of these wars.

With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage

Hor. A moth it is to trouble the mind's eye.

In the most high and palmy state of Roine,

A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,

In equal scale, weighing delight and dole, Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone

Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets:

As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,

Now follows, that you know, young young Fortinbras, Holding a weak supposal of our worth;

Mar. 'T is gone!

Hor. 'T is here!

[Exit Ghost.

We do it wrong, being so majestical,

To offer it the show of violence;

For it is, as the air, invulnerable,

And our vain blows malicious mockery.

Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew.

Hor. And then it started like a guilty thing

Upon a fearful summons. I have heard,
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
Awake the god of day; and, at his warning,
Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,
The extravagant and erring spirit hies
To his confine and of the truth herein
This present object made probation.
Mar. It faded on the crowing of the cock.

Or thinking, by our late dear brother's death,
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
Colleagued with the dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,
To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting.
Thus much the business is: We have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,
Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress
His further gait herein; in that the levies,
The lists, and full proportions, are all made
Out of his subject: and we here despatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
For bearing of this greeting to old Norway;
Giving to you no further personal power
To business with the king, more than the scope
Of these dilated articles allow.

Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty.
Cor. Vol. In that, and all things, will we show our
King. We doubt it nothing; heartily farewell.
[Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius.

[watch'd.

My lord, I did:

But answer made it none: yet once, methought, It lifted up its head, and did address

Itself to motion, like as it would speak:

But, even then, the morning cock crew loud;

And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,

And vanish'd from our sight.

Ham.

'T is very strange.

Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 't is true; And we did think it writ down in our duty,

To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me,

Hold you the watch to-night?
All.

Ham. Arm'd, say you?
Ham.

We do, my lord.

Alt. Arm'd, my lord.

From top to toe?

All. My lord, from head to foot.
Ham. Then saw you not his face.

Hor. O, yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.

Ham. What, look'd he frowningly?

Hor. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. Ham. Pale or red?

Hor. Most constantly.

Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal.
Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,
If with too credent ear you list his songs;
Or lose your heart; or your chaste treasure open
To his unmaster'd importunity.
Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister;
And keep within the rear of your affection,
Out of the shot and danger of desire.
The chariest maid is prodigal enough,
If she unmask her beauty to the moon:
Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes:
The canker galls the infants of the spring,
Too oft before their buttons be disclos'd;
And in the morn and liquid dew of youth
Contagious blastments are most imminent.
Be wary then: best safety lies in fear;
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
Oph. I shall the effect of this good lesson keep,
As watchman to my heart: But, good my brother,
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do.

Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own read.

Hor. Nay, very pale. Ham.

And fix'd his eyes upon you?

Laer.

I would I had been there.

you.

Ham.

Hor.

or. It would have much amazed Ham. Very like, very like; Stay'd it long? Hor. While one with moderate haste might tell a

Mar. Ber. Longer, longer.

[hundred.

Ham.

Hor. Not when I saw it.

His beard was grizly? no.

Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver'd.

Ham. I will watch to-night;

Perchance, 't will walk again.
Hor.

I warrant it will.
Ham. If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should ga
gape,
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
Let it be tenable in your silence still;
And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,
Give it an understanding, but no tongue;
I will requite your loves. So, fare ye well:
Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve,
I'll visit you. All. Our duty to your honour.
Ham. Your love, as mine to you: Farewell.

[Exeunt Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo.

My father's spirit in arms! all is not well;
I doubt some foul play: 'would the night were come!
Till then sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise,
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's
eyes.

For nature, crescent, does not grow alone
In thews, and bulk; but, as this temple waxes,
The inward service of the mind and soul
Grows wide withal. Perhaps, he loves you now;
And now no soil, nor cautel, doth besinirch
The virtue of his will but, you must fear,

His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;
For he himself is subject to his birth:
He may not, as unvalued persons do,
Carve for himself; for on his choice depends
The sanctity and health of the whole state;
And therefore must his choice be circumscrib'd
Unto the voice and yielding of that body,
Whereof he is the head: Then if he says, he loves
It fits your wisdom so far to believe it,
As he in his peculiar sect and force

[you,

O fear me not.

I stay too long; -But here my father comes.)

Enter Polonius.

[shame:

A double blessing is a double grace;
Occasion smiles upon a second leave.
Pol. Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,
And you are staid for. There, my blessing with
you! [Laying his hand on Laertes head.

And these few precepts in thy memory
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palin with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in,
Bear 't that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice:
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy:
For the apparel oft proclaims the man;
And they in France of the best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous chief in that.
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be:
For loan oft loses both itself and friend;
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all, To thine ownself 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 do I take my leave, my lord.
Pol. The time invites you; go, your servants tend.
Laer. Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well

And that in way of caution,) I must tell you,
You do not understand yourself so clearly,
As it behoves iny daughter, and your honour:
What is between you? give me up the truth.
Oph. He hath, my lord, of late, made many tenders
Of his affection to me.

Pol. Affection? puh! you speak like a green girl,
Unsifted in such perilous circuinstance.

Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?
Oph. I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
Pol. Marry, I'll teach you think yourself a baby;
That you have ta'en his tenders for true pay, [ly;
Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dear.

540

Or, (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
Roaming it thus,) you 'll tender me a fool.

Oph. My lord, he hath importun'd me with love, In honourable fashion.

Pol. Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, With all the vows of heaven.

[my lord,

Pol. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul
Gives the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,
Giving more light than heat, extinct in both,
Even in their promise, as it is a making,-
You must not take for fire. From this time, daugh-
Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence;
Set your entreatments at a higher rate,

Than a command to parley. For lord Hamlet,
Believe so much in hím, that he is young;
And with a larger tether may he walk,

be given you:

[ter,

Than may be giv You: In few, Ophelia,
Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers;-

Mar.

Look, with what courteous action

It wafts you to a more removed ground
But do not go with it.

Hor. No, by no means.

Ham. It will not speak; then will I follow it.

Hor. Do not, my lord.

I do not set my life at a pin's fee;

Ham.

Why, what should be the fear!

Not of the eye which their investments show,

And, for my soul, what can it do to that,

But mere implorators of unholy suits,

Being a thing immortal as itself?

Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds,

It waves me forth again;-I 'll follow it.

The better to beguile. This is for all,

Hor. What, if it tempt yo toward the flood, my

I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth,
Have you so slander any moment's leisure,
As to give words or talk with the lord Hamlet.
Look to 't, I charge you come your ways.

Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff,

[lord,

That beetles o'er his base into the sea,

Oph. I shall obey, my lord.

[Exeunt.

And to my mind, though I am native here,
And to the manner born, it is a custom

More honour'd in the breach than the observance.
This heavy-headed revel, east and west,

Makes us traduc'd, and tax'd of other nations:
They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase
Soil our addition; and, indeed, it takes

From our achievements, though perform'd at height,
The pith and marrow of our attribute.
So, oft it chances in particular men,

That for some vicious mole of nature in them,
As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,
Since nature cannot choose his origin.)
By their o'ergrowth of some complexion,

Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;
Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens
The form of plausive manners; that these men,
Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect;
Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,

Their virtues else (be they as pure as grace,
As infinite as man may undergo,)

Shall in the general censure take corruption
From that particular fault: The dram of ill
Doth all the noble substance often dout,

And there assume some other horrible form,
Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason,

And draw you into madness? think of it:
The very place puts toys of desperation,
Without more motive, into every brain,
That looks so many fathoms to the sea,
And hears it roar beneath.

And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.-

[Ghost beckons. Still am I call'd ;-unhand me, gentlemen; [Breaking from them. By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me:I say, away:-Go on, I'll follow thee. [Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet.

Hor. He waxes desperate with imagination.
Mar. Let's follow; 't is not fit thus to obey him.
Hor. Have after:-To what issue will this come?
Mar. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.
Hor. Heaven will direct it.

Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt Ham. What?

Ghost. I am thy father's spirit;

Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night;

And, for the day, confin'd to fast in fires,

Till the foul crimes, done in my days 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 unfold, whose lightest word

Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood;
Make thytwo eyes, like stars, start from their spheres;
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand an end,

Like quills upon the fretful porpentine,

But this eternal blazon must not be

To ears of flesh and blood:-List, Hamlet, O list!If thou didst ever thy dear father love,

Ham. O heaven!

Ghost. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murHam. Murther?

[ther.