Hamlet Page #2

Some say that ever 'gainst

that season comes...

...wherein our savior's birth

is celebrated...

...the bird of dawning

singeth all night long.

And then, they say,

no spirit can walk abroad...

...the nights are wholesome.

Then no planets strike...

...no fairy takes,

nor witch hath power to charm...

...so hallowed and so gracious

is the time.

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 eastward hill.

Break we our watch up,

and by my advice...

...let us impart

what we have seen tonight...

...unto young Hamlet.

For upon my life,

this spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.

Do you consent we acquaint him with it,

as needful in our loves, fitting our duty?

Let's do't, I pray.

And I this morning know

where we shall find him most conveniently.

Though yet of Hamlet

our dear brother's death...

...the memory be green,

and that it us befitted...

...to bear our hearts in grief,

and our whole kingdom...

...to be contracted in one brow of woe...

...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...

...th' imperial jointress

of this warlike state...

...have we

as 'twere with a defeated joy...

...with one auspicious

and one dropping eye...

...with mirth in funeral

and with dirge in marriage...

...in equal scale

weighing delight and dole...

...taken to wife.

Nor have we herein barred

your better wisdoms...

...which have freely gone

with this affair along. For all, our thanks.

[APPLAUDING]

Now follows

that you know young Fortinbras...

...holding a weak supposal

of our worth...

...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 failed

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.

[APPLAUDING]

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 dispatch

you, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand...

...for bearers of this greeting

to Old Norway...

...giving 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.

In that, and all things,

will we show our duty.

We doubt it nothing, heartily farewell.

[APPLAUDING]

And now, Laertes,

what's the news with you?

You told us of some suit.

What is't, Laertes?

You cannot speak of reason to the Dane

and lose your voice.

What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,

that shall not be my offer, not thy asking?

The head is not more native to the heart,

the hand more instrumental to the mouth...

...than is the throne of Denmark

to thy father.

What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

My dread Lord,

your leave and favor to return to France...

...from whence, willingly I came to Denmark

to show my duty in your coronation...

...yet now I must confess,

that duty done...

...my thoughts and wishes

bend again towards France...

...and bow them

to your leave and pardon.

Have you your father's leave?

What says Polonius?

He hath, my lord,

wrung from me my slow leave...

...by laborsome petition and at last

upon his will I sealed my hard consent.

I do beseech you give him leave to go.

Take thy fair hour, Laertes. Time be thine,

and thy best graces spend it at thy will.

[APPLAUDING]

But now, my cousin Hamlet...

...and my son.

HAMLET [WHISPERS]:

A little more than kin, and less than kind.

How is it that the clouds

still hang on you?

HAMLET:

Not so, my lord...

... I am too much in the sun.

Good Hamlet...

...cast thy nighted color off...

...and let thine eye

look like a friend on Denmark.

Do not for ever with thy vailed lids

seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Thou know'st 'tis common.

All that lives must die,

passing through nature to eternity.

Ay, madam, it is common.

If it be,

why seems it so particular with thee?

Seems, madam?

Nay, it is.

I know not "seems."

'Tis not alone my inky cloak,

good mother...

...nor customary suits of solemn black,

nor windy suspiration of forced breath...

...no, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

nor the dejected havior of the visage...

...together with all forms,

moods, shapes of grief...

...that can denote me truly.

These indeed "seem"...

...for they are actions

that a man might play.

But I have that within

which passeth show.

These but the trappings

and the suits of woe.

'Tis sweet and commendable

in your nature, Hamlet...

...to give these mourning duties

to your father.

But you must know

your father lost a father.

That father lost, lost his.

And the survivor bound

in filial obligation for some term...

...to do obsequious sorrow.

But to persever

in obstinate condolement is a course...

...of impious stubbornness,

'tis unmanly grief...

...it shows a will most incorrect to heaven,

a heart unfortified, a mind impatient...

...an understanding

simple and unschooled.

For what we know must be,

and is as common...

...as any the most vulgar thing to sense.

Why should we

in our peevish opposition...

...take it to heart?

Fie, 'tis a fault to heaven...

...a fault against the dead,

a fault to nature...

...to reason most absurd,

whose common theme...

...is death of fathers,

and who still hath cried...

...from the first corpse

till he that died today:

"This must be so."

We pray you throw to earth

this unprevailing woe...

...and think of us as of a father.

For let the world take note...

...you are the most immediate

to our throne.

[CHEERING]

And with no less nobility of love...

...than that which dearest father

bears his son...

...do I impart towards you.

For your intent

in going back to school in Wittenberg...

...it is most retrograde to our desire...

...and we beseech you

bend you to remain...

...here in the cheer

and comfort of our eye...

...our chiefest courtier, cousin,

and our son.

Let not thy mother

lose her prayers, Hamlet.

I pray thee stay with us,

go not to Wittenberg.

I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply.

Be as ourself in Denmark.

Madam, come.

This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet

sits smiling to my heart.

In grace whereof, no jocund health

that Denmark drinks today...

...but the great cannon

to the clouds shall tell...

...and the king's rouse the heavens

shall bruit again...

...re-speaking earthly thunder.

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