First Player
Soon, he finds him, after his fall to the Greeks. With his old sword he is unable to bear, young Pyrrhus drives at Priam. His rage leaves him unbalanced but the force of his blow knocks Priam to the ground. Just before taking the head of Priam, Pyrrhus hears the roar of flames in the city of Ilium. He stands frozen as if in a painting. Like the quiet before the storm, Pyrrhus took back up his sword and with newly found fury wielded a deathly blow on Priam.—Out, out Fortune, you whore. Gods of heaven, take away her power and break her wheel of fortune. Send her and it to the depths of hell.
'Anon he finds himStriking too short at Greeks; his antique sword,Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,Repugnant to command: unequal match'd,Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide;But with the whiff and wind of his fell swordThe unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming topStoops to his base, and with a hideous crashTakes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword,Which was declining on the milky headOf reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick:So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood,And like a neutral to his will and matter,Did nothing.But, as we often see, against some storm,A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,The bold winds speechless and the orb belowAs hush as death, anon the dreadful thunderDoth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause,Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work;And never did the Cyclops' hammers fallOn Mars's armour forged for proof eterneWith less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding swordNow falls on Priam.Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods,In general synod 'take away her power;Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven,As low as to the fiends!'
LORD POLONIUS
This is too long.
This is too long.
HAMLET
We’ll let the barber cut it, as well as your beard.—Please go on.—He only likes the crude scenes, or else he falls asleep.—Go to the part about Hecuba.
It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee,say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or hesleeps: say on: come to Hecuba.
First Player
But who had seen the quiet queen,--
'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--'
HAMLET
The “quiet queen?”
'The mobled queen?'
LORD POLONIUS
That sounds good! “Quiet queen!”
That's good; 'mobled queen' is good.
First Player
She runs barefoot throughout the city threatening to put out the flames with her tears, a cloth on her head which once bore a crown and a blanket around her where once she wore a robe. Someone seeing her like this would have cursed Fortune. Even the gods, themselves, would have pity on her if they had seen her watch Pyrrhus murder her husband, unless the gods have no care for humans.
'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flamesWith bisson rheum; a clout upon that headWhere late the diadem stood, and for a robe,About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins,A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd,'Gainst Fortune's state would treason havepronounced:But if the gods themselves did see her thenWhen she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sportIn mincing with his sword her husband's limbs,The instant burst of clamour that she made,Unless things mortal move them not at all,Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven,And passion in the gods.'
LORD POLONIUS
Look, the actor has turned colors and has tears in his eyes. Please let him stop!
Look, whether he has not turned his colour and hastears in's eyes. Pray you, no more.
HAMLET
Very well. I’ll have you tell me the rest, soon.—Polonius, will you see the players are taken care of? Do you understand? Be good to them, for it would be better to have a bad epitaph than have them angry with you.
'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon.Good my lord, will you see the players wellbestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; forthey are the abstract and brief chronicles of thetime: after your death you were better have a badepitaph than their ill report while you live.
LORD POLONIUS
My lord, I will treat them as they deserve.
My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
HAMLET
Oh no man, if every man were treated as he deserved, no one would escape punishment. Treat them as you would want to be treated with respect and honor. The less deserving, the more the generosity. Take them inside.
God's bodykins, man, much better: use every manafter his desert, and who should 'scape whipping?Use them after your own honour and dignity: the lessthey deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.Take them in.
LORD POLONIUS
Come along, sirs.
Come, sirs.
HAMLET
Go with him, my friends. We’ll hear a play tomorrow.
Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow.
Exit POLONIUS with all the Players but the First
Do you know the play, “The Murder of Gonzago?”
Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play theMurder of Gonzago?
First Player
Yes, my lord.
Ay, my lord.
HAMLET
We would like to hear it tomorrow night. Could you add a few lines for me?
We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need,study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, whichI would set down and insert in't, could you not?
First Player
Yes, my lord.
Ay, my lord.
HAMLET
Good.—Follow that man; and do not mock him.
Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock himnot.
Exit First Player
My friends, I must leave now. I will see you tonight. Welcome to Elsinore.
My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you arewelcome to Elsinore.
ROSENCRANTZ
Okay, my lord.
Good my lord!
HAMLET
Good, go with God.
Ay, so, God be wi' ye;
Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN
Thank God, I am alone. What a mischievous man I am! Aren’t I terrible to make the actor feel something so powerful in his soul that it brought tears to his eyes and made his voice crack. And, for what? Nothing! For Hecuba? What’s Hecuba to him or vice-versa? What would he do if her were in my shoes? He would probably cry and make horrible speeches, drive the guilty crazy and appall the little ones. He would confuse the ignorant spectators and amaze them. But I am not so brave and so I say nothing against a king who stole his position and property. Am I a coward? Would someone call me a villain, hit me, pull off my beard and blow it back in my face, or tweak my nose? Would someone call me a liar and I not respond? I wouldn’t do anything because I’m afraid or else I would have already killed the king, that bloody villain! That remorseless, treacherous villain. I want vengeance! I am such an ass! I, the son of a dear murdered father, with all rights to seek revenge, stand around and do nothing! I need to get control! I have heard that some people are so driven by watching a play they confess their sins out loud. I know! I’ll have the players put on a play similar to the murder of my father and I will watch my uncle’s reaction. If he flinches or becomes pale I will know for sure what to do because all I have to go on are the words of a ghost. If the ghost is the devil who is trying to condemn my soul, I need to be careful before I act. The play will reveal the true conscience of the king.
Now I am alone.O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!Is it not monstrous that this player here,But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,Could force his soul so to his own conceitThat from her working all his visage wann'd,Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,A broken voice, and his whole function suitingWith forms to his conceit? and all for nothing!For Hecuba!What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,That he should weep for her? What would he do,Had he the motive and the cue for passionThat I have? He would drown the stage with tearsAnd
cleave the general ear with horrid speech,Make mad the guilty and appal the free,Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeedThe very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,And can say nothing; no, not for a king,Upon whose property and most dear lifeA damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward?Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat,As deep as to the lungs? who does me this?Ha!'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot beBut I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gallTo make oppression bitter, or ere thisI should have fatted all the region kitesWith this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain!Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain!O, vengeance!Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,And fall a-cursing, like a very drab,A scullion!Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heardThat guilty creatures sitting at a playHave by the very cunning of the sceneBeen struck so to the soul that presentlyThey have proclaim'd their malefactions;For murder, though it have no tongue, will speakWith most miraculous organ. I'll have these playersPlay something like the murder of my fatherBefore mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench,I know my course. The spirit that I have seenMay be the devil: and the devil hath powerTo assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhapsOut of my weakness and my melancholy,As he is very potent with such spirits,Abuses me to damn me: I'll have groundsMore relative than this: the play 's the thingWherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
Exit
A room in the castle
Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN
KING CLAUDIUS
Have you figured out why he is acting so crazy?
And can you, by no drift of circumstance,Get from him why he puts on this confusion,Grating so harshly all his days of quietWith turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
ROSENCRANTZ
He does say he feels distracted, but he did not explain the cause.
He does confess he feels himself distracted;But from what cause he will by no means speak.
GUILDENSTERN
He doesn’t seem to want to be questioned. He skirts around the issue of how he feels.
Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,When we would bring him on to some confessionOf his true state.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Did he treat you well?
Did he receive you well?
ROSENCRANTZ
Yes, he was a gentleman.
Most like a gentleman.
GUILDENSTERN
But, it seemed forced, like he had to try to be nice.
But with much forcing of his disposition.
ROSENCRANTZ
He didn’t ask us any questions, but he answered all of ours.
Niggard of question; but, of our demands,Most free in his reply.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Did you ask him to hang out with you?
Did you assay him?To any pastime?
ROSENCRANTZ
Madam, it just so happened that a group of actors we knew came up, and when we told Hamlet about them, it seemed to cheer him up. They are supposed to play for him tonight.
Madam, it so fell out, that certain playersWe o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him;And there did seem in him a kind of joyTo hear of it: they are about the court,And, as I think, they have already orderThis night to play before him.
LORD POLONIUS
It’s true, and he asked me to ask you, your majesties, to come and join him.
'Tis most true:And he beseech'd me to entreat your majestiesTo hear and see the matter.
KING CLAUDIUS
This does my heart good to hear he is interested in something. Gentlemen, please encourage him to attend the play, and maybe it will make him happier.
With all my heart; and it doth much content meTo hear him so inclined.Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,And drive his purpose on to these delights.
ROSENCRANTZ
We will, my lord.
We shall, my lord.
Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN
KING CLAUDIUS
Sweet Gertrude, please leave us alone a minute. We have sent for Hamlet to come here so he may bump into Ophelia. Her father and I are acting as spies. We are trying to see if it is love that is making him act so strangely.
Sweet Gertrude, leave us too;For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,That he, as 'twere by accident, may hereAffront Ophelia:Her father and myself, lawful espials,Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen,We may of their encounter frankly judge,And gather by him, as he is behaved,If 't be the affliction of his love or noThat thus he suffers for.
QUEEN GERTRUDE
Yes, I’ll go. As for you, Ophelia, I do hope it is his infatuation with your beauty that makes him crazy. I also hope your virtue will help him return to his normal state, for both your sakes.
I shall obey you.And for your part, Ophelia, I do wishThat your good beauties be the happy causeOf Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtuesWill bring him to his wonted way again,To both your honours.
OPHELIA
Madam, I wish it, too.
Madam, I wish it may.
Exit QUEEN GERTRUDE
LORD POLONIUS
Ophelia, walk over here. We will hide over there.
Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you,We will bestow ourselves.
To OPHELIA
Read this book and act as if you are alone, like people who act righteous to cover up their evil ways.
Read on this book;That show of such an exercise may colourYour loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,--'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visageAnd pious action we do sugar o'erThe devil himself.
KING CLAUDIUS
[Aside]
That’s true! His words are like daggers to my conscience! The harlot’s cheek, covered with makeup is as ugly as the actions I am trying to hide with pretty words. Oh, my heavy heart!
O, 'tis too true!How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art,Is not more ugly to the thing that helps itThan is my deed to my most painted word:O heavy burthen!
LORD POLONIUS
I hear him coming: Let’s hide, my lord.
I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord.
Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS
Enter HAMLET
HAMLET
To live or to die…That is the question. Is it more courageous to suffer through life’s horrors or to fight them and perhaps end them? Should I die or like death, sleep, and perhaps dream? Now there’s the problem. By sleeping, I would put an end to the torment life offers. Why should anyone choose to live when you must suffer the hands of time, the evil of men, the pain of unreturned love, or the unjust government? Who would endure such struggles in life, but those that dread the unknown of death, the undiscovered country from where travelers never return. Our fear of death makes us all cowards, and we consider our choices too much, keeping us from acting at all. But, wait! The beautiful Ophelia!—Angel, do pray for me.
To be, or not to be: that is the question:Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;No more; and by a sleep to say we endThe heart-ache and the thousand natural shocksThat flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummationDevoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;For in that sleep of death what dreams may comeWhen we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause: there's the respectThat makes calamity of so long life;For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,The insolence of office and the spurnsThat patient merit of the unworthy takes
,When he himself might his quietus makeWith a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,To grunt and sweat under a weary life,But that the dread of something after death,The undiscover'd country from whose bournNo traveller returns, puzzles the willAnd makes us rather bear those ills we haveThan fly to others that we know not of?Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;And thus the native hue of resolutionIs sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,And enterprises of great pith and momentWith this regard their currents turn awry,And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisonsBe all my sins remember'd.
OPHELIA
Oh, hello, my lord. How have you been doing?
Good my lord,How does your honour for this many a day?
HAMLET
Very well, thank you.
I humbly thank you; well, well, well.
OPHELIA
My lord, I have some things that belong to you that I have been wanting to return. Please take them.
My lord, I have remembrances of yours,That I have longed long to re-deliver;I pray you, now receive them.
HAMLET
No, it’s not mine. I never gave you anything.
No, not I;I never gave you aught.
OPHELIA
My lord, you know very well you did. You gave me the sweetest letters, but they mean nothing to me now. Here they are.
My honour'd lord, you know right well you did;And, with them, words of so sweet breath composedAs made the things more rich: their perfume lost,Take these again; for to the noble mindRich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.There, my lord.
HAMLET
Ha, ha! Are you telling the truth?
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 528
