The Tragedy of Hamlet — Act 3 Scene 2

Enter Hamlet, and two or three of the Players.

Ham.Speake the Speech I pray you, as I pronounc'dit to you trippingly on the Tongue; But if you mouth it,as many of your Players do, I had as liue the Town-Cryerhad spoke my Lines: Nor do not saw the Ayre too muchyour hand thus, but vse all gently; for in the verie Torrent,Tempest, and (as I may say) the Whirle-winde ofPassion, you must acquire and beget a Temperance thatmay giue it Smoothnesse. O it offends mee to the Soule,to see a robustious Pery-wig-pated Fellow, teare a Passionto tatters, to verie ragges, to split the eares of theGroundlings: who (for the most part) are capeable ofnothing, but inexplicable dumbe shewes, & noise: I couldhaue such a Fellow whipt for o're-doing Termagant: itout-Herod's Herod. Pray you auoid it.

Player.I warrant your Honor.

Ham.Be not too tame neyther: but let your owneDiscretion be your Tutor. Sute the Action to the Word,the Word to the Action, with this speciall obseruance:That you ore-stop not the modestie of Nature; for anything so ouer-done, is (frō)from the purpose of Playing, whoseend both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twerthe Mirrour vp to Nature; to shew Vertue her owneFeature, Scorne her owne Image, and the verie Age andBodie of the Time, his forme and pressure. Now, thisouer-done, or come tardie off, though it make the vnskilfulllaugh, cannot but make the Iudicious greeue; Thecensure of the which One, must in your allowance o'rewaya whole Theater of Others. Oh, there bee Playersthat I haue seene Play, and heard others praise, and thathighly (not to speake it prophanely) that neyther hauingthe accent of Christians, nor the gate of Christian, Pagan,or Norman, haue so strutted and bellowed, that I hauethought some of Natures Iouerney-men had made men,and not made them well, they imitated Humanity so abhominably.

Play.I hope we haue reform'd that indifferently with vs, Sir.

Ham.O reforme it altogether. And let those thatplay your Clownes, speake no more then is set downe forthem. For there be of them, that will themselues laugh,to set on some quantitie of barren Spectators to laughtoo, though in the meane time, some necessary Questionof the Play be then to be considered: that's Villanous, &shewes a most pittifull Ambition in the Foole that vsesExit Players.it. Go make you readie.Enter Polonius, Rosincrance, and Guildensterne.How now my Lord,Will the King heare this peece of Worke?

Pol.And the Queene too, and that presently.

Ham.Exit Polonius.Bid the players make hast.Will you two helpe to hasten them?

Both.Exeunt.We will my Lord.

Enter Horatio.

Ham.What hoa, Horatio?

Hora.Heere sweet Lord, at your Seruice.

Ham.Horatio, thou art eene as just a manAs ere my Conuersation coap'd withall.

Hora.O my deere Lord.

Ham.Nay, do not thinke I flatter:For what aduancement may I hope from thee,That no Reuennew hast, but thy good spiritsTo feed & cloath thee. Why shold the poor be flatter'd?No, let the Candied tongue, like absurd pompe,And crooke the pregnant Hindges of the knee,Where thrift may follow faining? Dost thou heare,Since my deere Soule was Mistris of my choyse,And could of men distinguish, her electionHath seal'd thee for her selfe. For thou hast beneAs one in suffering all, that suffers nothing.A man that Fortunes buffets, and RewardsHath 'tane with equall Thankes. And blest are those,Whose Blood and Iudgement are so well co-mingled,That they are not a Pipe for Fortunes finger,To sound what stop she please. Giue me that man,That is not Passions Slaue, and I will weare himIn my hearts Core: I, in my Heart of heart,As I do thee. Something too much of this.There is a Play to night before the King.One Scœne of it comes neere the CircumstanceWhich I haue told thee, of my Fathers death.I prythee, when thou see'st that Acte a-foot,Euen with the verie Comment of my SouleObserue mine Vnkle: If his occulted guilt,Do not it selfe vnkennell in one speech,It is a damned Ghost that we haue seene:And my Imaginations are as fouleAs Vulcans Stythe. Giue him needfull note,For I mine eyes will riuet to his Face:And after we will both our iudgements ioyne,To censure of his seeming.

Hora.Well my Lord.If he steale ought the whil'st this Play is Playing,And scape detecting, I will pay the Theft.

Enter King, Queene, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosincrance,Guidensterne, and other Lords attendant withhis Guard carrying Torches. DanishMarch. Sound a Flourish.

Ham.They are comming to the Play: I must be idle.Get you a place.

King.How fares our Cosin Hamlet?

Ham.Excellent I faith, of the Camelions dish: I eatethe Ayre promise-cramm'd, you cannot feed Capons so.

King.I haue nothing with this answer Hamlet, thesewords are not mine.

Ham.No, nor mine. Now my Lord, you plaid oncei'th'Vniuersity, you say?

Polon.That I did my Lord, and was accounted a good Actor.

Ham.And what did you enact?

Pol.I did enact Iulius Cæsar, I was kill'd i'th'Capitol:Brutus kill'd me.

Ham.It was a bruite part of him, to kill so Capitall aCalfe there. Be the Players ready?

Rosin.I my Lord, they stay vpon your patience.

Qu.Come hither my good Hamlet, sit by me.

Ha.No good Mother, here's Mettle more attractiue.

Pol.Oh ho, do you marke that?

Ham.Ladie, shall I lye in your Lap?

Ophe.No my Lord.

Ham.I meane, my Head vpon your Lap?

Ophe.I my Lord.

Ham.Do you thinke I meant Country matters?

Ophe.I thinke nothing, my Lord.

Ham.That's a faire thought to ly between Maids legs

Ophe.What is my Lord?

Ham.Nothing.

Ophe.You are merrie, my Lord?

Ham.Who I?

Ophe.I my Lord.

Ham.Oh God, your onely Iigge-maker: what shoulda man do, but be merrie. For looke you how cheerefullymy Mother lookes, and my Father dyed within's two Houres.

Ophe.Nay,'tis twice two moneths, my Lord.

Ham.So long? Nay then let the Diuel weare blacke,for Ile haue a suite of Sables. Oh Heauens! dye two monethsago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's hope, agreat mans Memorie, may out-liue his life halfe a yeare:But byrlady he must builde Churches then: or else shallhe suffer not thinking on, with the Hoby-horsse, whoseEpitaph is, For o, For o, the Hoby-horse is forgot.

Hoboyes play. The dumbe shew enters.Enter a King and Queene, very louingly; the Queene embracinghim. She kneeles and makes shew of Protestation vntohim. He takes her vp, and declines his head vpon her neck.Layes him downe vpon a Banke of Flowers. She seeing hima-sleepe, leaues him. Anon comes in a Fellow, takes off hisCrowne, kisses it, and powres poyson in the Kings eares, andExits. The Queene returnes, findes the King dead, andmakes passionate Action. The Poysoner, with some two orthree Mutes comes in againe, seeming to lament with her.The dead body is carried away: The Poysoner Wooes theQueene with Gifts, she seemes loath and vnwilling awhile,Exeunt.but in the end, accepts his loue.

Ophe.What meanes this, my Lord?

Ham.Marry this is Miching Malicho, that meanes Mischeefe.

Ophe.Belike this shew imports the Argument of the Play?

Ham.We shall know by these Fellowes: the Playerscannot keepe counsell, they'l tell all.

Ophe.Will they tell vs what this shew meant?

Ham.I, or any shew that you'l shew him. Bee notyou asham'd to shew, hee'l not shame to tell you what it meanes.

Ophe.You are naught, you are naught, Ile marke the Play.

Enter Prologue.For vs, and for our Tragedie,Heere stooping to your Clemencie:We begge your hearing Patientlie.

Ham.Is this a Prologue, or the Poesie of a Ring?

Ophe.'Tis briefe my Lord.

Ham.As Womans loue.

Enter King and his Queene.

King.Full thirtie times hath Phœbus Cart gon round,Neptunes salt Wash, and Tellus Orbed ground:And thirtie dozen Moones with borrowed sheene,About the World haue times twelue thirties beene,Since loue our hearts, and Hymen did our handsVnite comutuall, in most sacred Bands.

Bap.So many iournies may the Sunne and MooneMake vs againe count o're, ere loue be done.But woe is me, you are so sicke of late,So farre from cheere, and from your forme state,That I distrust you: yet though I distrust,Discomfort you (my Lord) it nothing must:For womens Feare and Loue, holds quantitie,In neither ought, or in extremity:Now what my loue is, proofe hath made you know,And as my Loue is siz'd, my Feare is so.

King.Faith I must leaue thee Loue, and shortly too:My operant Powers my Functions leaue to do:And thou shalt liue in this faire world behinde,Honour'd, belou'd, and haply, one as kinde.For Husband shalt thou———

Bap.Oh confound the rest:Such Loue, must needs be Treason in my brest:In second Husband, let me be accurst,None wed the second. but who kill'd the first.

Ham.Wormwood, Wormwood.

Bapt.The instances that second Marriage moue,Are base respects of Thrift, but none of Loue.A second time, I kill my Husband dead,When second Husband kisses me in Bed.

King.I do beleeue you. Think what now you speak:But what we do determine, oft we breake:Purpose is but the slaue to Memorie,Of violent Birth, but poore validitie:Which now like Fruite vnripe stickes on the Tree,But fall vnshaken, when they mellow bee.Most necessary 'tis, that we forgetTo pay our selues, what to our selues is debt:What to our selues in passion we propose,The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.The violence of other Greefe or Ioy,Their owne ennactors with themselues destroy:Where Ioy most Reuels, Greefe doth most lament;Greefe ioyes, Ioy greeues on slender accident.This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strangeThat euen our Loues should with our Fortunes change.For 'tis a question left vs yet to proue,Whether Loue lead Fortune, or else Fortune Loue.The great man downe you marke his fauourites flies,The poore aduanc'd, makes Friends of Enemies:And hitherto doth Loue on Fortune tend,For who not needs, shall neuer lacke a Frend:And who in want a hollow Friend doth try,Directly seasons him his Enemie.But orderly to end, where I begun,Our Willes and Fates do so contrary run,That our Deuices still are ouerthrowne,Our thoughts are ours, their ends, none of our owne.So thinke thou wilt no second Husband wed.But die thy thoughts, when thy first Lord is dead.

Bap.Nor Earth to giue me food, not Heauen light,Sport and repose locke from me day and night:Each opposite that blankes the face of ioy,Meet what I would haue well, and it destroy:Both heere, and hence, pursue me lasting strife,If once a Widdow, euer I be Wife.

Ham.If she should breake it now.

King.'Tis deepely sworne:Sweet, leaue me heere a while,My spirits grow dull, and faine I would beguileThe tedious day with sleepe.

Qu.SleepesSleepe rocke thy Braine,ExitAnd neuer come mischance betweene vs twaine.

Ham.Madam, how like you this Play?

Qu.The Lady protests to much me thinkes.

Ham.Oh but shee'l keepe her word.

King.Haue you heard the Argument, is there no Offence in't?

Ham.No, no, they do but iest, poyson in iest, no Offence i'th'world.

King.What do you call the Play?

Ham.The Mouse-trap: Marry how? Tropically:This Play is the Image of a murder done in Vienna:Gonzago is the Dukes name, his wife Baptista: you shall seeanon: 'tis a knauish peece of worke: But what o'that?Your Maiestie, and wee that haue free soules, it touchesvs not: let the gall'd iade winch: our withers are vnrung.Enter Lucianus.This is one Lucianus nephew to the King.

Ophe.You are a good Chorus, my Lord.

Ham.I could interpret betweene you and your loue:if I could see the Puppets dallying.

Ophe.You are keene my Lord, you are keene.

Ham.It would cost you a groaning, to take off my edge.

Ophe.Still better and worse.

Ham.So you mistake Husbands.Begin Murderer. Pox, leaue thy damnable Faces, andbegin. Come, the croaking Rauen doth bellow for Reuenge.

Lucian.Thoughts blacke, hands apt,Drugges fit, and Time agreeing:Confederate season, else, no Creature seeing:Thou mixture ranke, of Midnight Weeds collected,With Hecats Ban, thrice blasted, thrice infected,Thy naturall Magicke, and dire propertie,On wholsome life, vsurpe immediately.Powres the poyson in his eares.

Ham.He poysons him i'th'Garden for's estate: Hisname's Gonzago: the Story is extant and writ in choyceItalian. You shall see anon how the Murtherer gets theloue of Gonzago's wife.

Ophe.The King rises.

Ham.What, frighted with false fire.

Qu.How fares my Lord?

Pol.Giue o're the Play.

King.Giue me some Light. Away.

All.Exeunt.Lights, Lights, Lights.

Manet Hamlet & Horatio.

Ham.Why let the strucken Deere go weepe,The Hart vngalled play:For some must watch, while some must sleepe;So runnes the world away.Would not this Sir, and a Forrest of Feathers, if the rest ofmy Fortunes turne Turke with me; with two ProuniciallRoses on my rac'd Shooes, get me a Fellowship in a crieof Players sir.

Hor.Halfe a share.

Ham.A whole one I,For thou dost know: Oh Damon deere,This Realme dismantled was of Ioue himselfe,And now reignes heere.A verie verie Paiocke.

Hora.You might haue Rim'd.

Ham.Oh good Horatio, Ile take the Ghosts word fora thousand pound. Did'st perceiue?

Hora.Verie well my Lord.

Ham.Vpon the talke of the poysoning?

Hor.I did verie well note him.

Enter Rosincrance and Guildensterene.

Ham.Oh, ha? Come some Musick. Come y Recorders:For if the King like not the Comedie,Why then belike he likes it not perdie.Come some Musicke.

GuildGood my Lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.

Ham.Sir a whole History.

Guild.The King, sir.

Ham.I sir, what of him?

Guild.Is in his retyrement, maruellous distemper'd.

Ham.With drinke Sir?

Guild.No my Lord, rather with choller.

Ham.Your wisedome should shew it selfe more richer,to signifie this to his Doctor: for for me to put himto his Purgation, would perhaps plundge him into farremore Choller.

Guild.Good my Lord put your discourse into someframe, and start not so wildely from my affayre.

Ham.I am tame Sir, pronounce.

Guild.The Queene your Mother, in most great afflictionof spirit, hath sent me to you.

Ham.You are welcome.

Guild.Nay, good my Lord, this courtesie is not ofthe right breed. If it shall please you to make me a wholsomeanswer, I will doe your Mothers command'ment:if not, your pardon, and my returne shall bee the end ofmy Businesse.

Ham.Sir, I cannot.

Guild.What, my Lord?

Ham.Make you a wholsome answere: my wits diseas'd.But sir, such answers as I can make, you shal command:or rather you say, my Mother: therfore no morebut to the matter. My Mother you say.

Rosin.Then thus she sayes: your behauior hath strokeher into amazement, and admiration.

Ham.Oh wonderfull Sonne, that can so astonish aMother. But is there no sequell at the heeles of thisMothers admiration?

Rosin.She desires to speake with you in her Closset,ere you go to bed.

Ham.We shall obey, were she ten times our Mother.Haue you any further Trade with vs?

Rosin.My Lord, you once did loue me.

Ham.So I do still, by these pickers and stealers.

Rosin.Good my Lord, what is your cause of distemper?You do freely barre the doore of your owne Libertie,if you deny your greefes to your Friend.

Ham.Sir I lacke Aduancement.

Rosin.How can that be, when you haue the voyce ofthe King himselfe, for your Succession in Denmarke?

Ham.I, but while the grasse growes, the Prouerbe issomething musty.Enter one with a Recorder.O the Recorder. Let me see, to withdraw with you, whydo you go about to recouer the winde of mee, as if youwould driue me into a toyle?

Guild.O my Lord, if my Dutie be too bold, my loueis too vnmannerly.

Ham.I do not well vnderstand that. Will you playvpon this Pipe?

Guild.My Lord, I cannot.

Ham.I pray you.

Guild.Beleeue me, I cannot.

Ham.I do beseech you.

Guild.I know no touch of it, my Lord.

Ham.'Tis as easie as lying: gouerne these Ventigeswith your finger and thumbe, giue it breath with yourmouth, and it will discourse most excellent Musicke.Looke you, these are the stoppes.

Guild.But these cannot I command to any vtteranceof hermony, I haue not the skill.

Ham.Why looke you now, how vnworthy a thingyou make of me: you would play vpon mee; you wouldseeme to know my stops: you would pluck out the heartof my Mysterie; you would sound mee from my lowestNote, to the top of my Compasse: and there is much Musicke,excellent Voice, in this little Organe, yet cannotyou make it. Why do you thinke, that I am easier to beeplaid on, then a Pipe? Call me what Instrument you will,though you can fret me, you cannot play vpon me, Godblesse you Sir.

Enter Polonius.

Polon.My Lord; the Queene would speak with you,and presently.

Ham.Do you see that Clowd? that's almost in shapelike a Camell.

Polon.By'th'Misse, and it's like a Camell indeed.

Ham.Me thinkes it is like a Weazell.

Polon.It is back'd like a Weazell.

Ham.Or like a Whale?

Polon.Verie like a Whale.

Ham.Then will I come to my Mother, by and by:They foole me to the top of my bent.I will come by and by.

Polon.Exit.I will say so.

Ham.By and by, is easily said. Leaue me Friends:'Tis now the verie witching time of night,When Churchyards yawne, and Hell it selfe breaths outContagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood,And do such bitter businesse as the dayWould quake to looke on. Soft now, to my Mother:Oh Heart, loose not thy Nature; let not euerThe Soule of Nero, enter this firme bosome:Let me be cruell, not vnnaturall,I will speake Daggers to her, but vse none:My Tongue and Soule in this be Hypocrites.How in my words someuer she be shent,To giue them Seales, neuer my Soule consent.