William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare - Complete Works

That no revenue hast, but thy good spirits

To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter’d?

No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,

And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee

Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?

Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice,

And could of men distinguish, her election

Hath seal’d thee for herself. For thou hast been

As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing,

A man that Fortune’s buffets and rewards

Hast ta’en with equal thanks. And bles’d are those

Whose blood and judgment are so well co-mingled

That they are not a pipe for Fortune’s finger

To sound what stop she please. Give me that man

That is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him

In my heart’s core, ay, in my heart of heart,

As I do thee. Something too much of this.

There is a play tonight before the King.

One scene of it comes near the circumstance

Which I have told thee, of my father’s death.

I prythee, when thou see’st that act a-foot,

Even with the very comment of thy soul

Observe mine uncle. If his occulted guilt

Do not itself unkennel in one speech,

It is a damned ghost that we have seen;

And my imaginations are as foul

As Vulcan’s stithy. Give him heedful note;

For I mine eyes will rivet to his face;

And after we will both our judgments join

In censure of his seeming.

HORATIO.

Well, my lord.

If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing,

And scape detecting, I will pay the theft.

HAMLET.

They are coming to the play. I must be idle.

Get you a place.

DANISH MARCH. A FLOURISH. ENTER KING, QUEEN, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN AND OTHERS.

KING.

How fares our cousin Hamlet?

HAMLET.

Excellent, i’ faith; of the chameleon’s dish: I eat the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so.

KING.

I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words are not mine.

HAMLET.

No, nor mine now. [ To Polonius. ] My lord, you play’d once i’ th’university, you say?

POLONIUS.

That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.

HAMLET.

What did you enact?

POLONIUS.

I did enact Julius Caesar. I was kill’d i’ th’ Capitol. Brutus killed me.

HAMLET.

It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. Be the players ready?

ROSENCRANTZ.

Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience.

QUEEN.

Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.

HAMLET.

No, good mother, here’s metal more attractive.

POLONIUS.

[ To the King. ] O ho! do you mark that?

HAMLET.

Lady, shall I lie in your lap?

[ Lying down at OPHELIA’S feet. ]

OPHELIA.

No, my lord.

HAMLET.

I mean, my head upon your lap?

OPHELIA.

Ay, my lord.

HAMLET.

Do you think I meant country matters?

OPHELIA.

I think nothing, my lord.

HAMLET.

That’s a fair thought to lie between maids’ legs.

OPHELIA.

What is, my lord?

HAMLET.

Nothing.

OPHELIA.

You are merry, my lord.

HAMLET.

Who, I?

OPHELIA.

Ay, my lord.

HAMLET.

O God, your only jig-maker! What should a man do but be merry? For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within’s two hours.

OPHELIA.

Nay, ’tis twice two months, my lord.

HAMLET.

So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for I’ll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there’s hope a great man’s memory may outlive his life half a year. But by’r lady, he must build churches then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is ‘For, O, for O, the hobby-horse is forgot!’

Trumpets sound. The dumb show enters.

Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck. Lays him down upon a bank of flowers. She, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, pours poison in the King’s ears, and exits. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner with some three or four Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner woos the Queen with gifts. She seems loth and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love.

[ Exeunt. ]

OPHELIA.

What means this, my lord?

HAMLET.

Marry, this is miching mallicho; it means mischief.

OPHELIA.

Belike this show imports the argument of the play.

Enter PROLOGUE.

HAMLET.

We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot keep counsel; they’ll tell all.

OPHELIA.

Will they tell us what this show meant?

HAMLET.

Ay, or any show that you’ll show him. Be not you ashamed to show, he’ll not shame to tell you what it means.

OPHELIA.

You are naught, you are naught: I’ll mark the play.

PROLOGUE. For us, and for our tragedy, Here stooping to your clemency, We beg your hearing patiently.

HAMLET.

Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?

OPHELIA.

’Tis brief, my lord.

HAMLET.

As woman’s love.

Enter a KING and a QUEEN.

PLAYER KING.

Full thirty times hath Phoebus’ cart gone round

Neptune’s salt wash and Tellus’ orbed ground,

And thirty dozen moons with borrow’d sheen

About the world have times twelve thirties been,

Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands

Unite commutual in most sacred bands.

PLAYER QUEEN.

So many journeys may the sun and moon

Make us again count o’er ere love be done.

But, woe is me, you are so sick of late,

So far from cheer and from your former state,

That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,

Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must:

For women’s fear and love holds quantity,

In neither aught, or in extremity.

Now what my love is, proof hath made you know,

And as my love is siz’d, my fear is so.

Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;

Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.

PLAYER KING.

Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too:

My operant powers their functions leave to do:

And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,

Honour’d, belov’d, and haply one as kind

For husband shalt thou—

PLAYER QUEEN.

O confound the rest.

Such love must needs be treason in my breast.

In second husband let me be accurst!

None wed the second but who kill’d the first.

HAMLET.

[ Aside. ] Wormwood, wormwood.

PLAYER QUEEN.

The instances that second marriage move

Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.

A second time I kill my husband dead,

When second husband kisses me in bed.

PLAYER KING.

I do believe you think what now you speak;

But what we do determine, oft we break.

Purpose is but the slave to memory,

Of violent birth, but poor validity:

Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree,

But fall unshaken when they mellow be.

Most necessary ’tis that we forget

To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt.

What to ourselves in passion we propose,

The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.

The violence of either grief or joy

Their own enactures with themselves destroy.

Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;

Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.