Hamlet Page #3

Come, away.

[CHEERING]

O that this too too solid flesh

would melt...

...thaw and resolve itself into a dew...

...or that the Everlasting had not fixed

his canon 'gainst self-slaughter.

O God, God...

...how weary, stale, flat,

and unprofitable...

...seem to me all the uses of this world.

Fie on 't, ah fie.

'Tis an unweeded garden

that grows to seed.

Things rank and gross in nature

possess it merely.

That it should come to this.

But two months dead.

Nay, not so much, not two.

So excellent a king, that was to this...

...Hyperion to a satyr...

...so loving to my mother...

...that he might not

beteem the winds of heaven...

...visit her face too roughly.

Heaven and earth, must I remember?

Why, she would hang on him

as if increase of appetite had grown...

...by what it fed on,

and yet within a month--

Let me not think on't.

Frailty, thy name is woman.

A little month,

or ere those shoes were old...

...with which she followed

my poor father's body...

...like Niobe, all tears,

why she, even she--

O God, a beast

that wants discourse of reason...

...would have mourned longer.

--married with mine uncle...

...my father's brother...

...but no more like my father

than I to Hercules...

...within a month...

...ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

had left the flushing in her galled eyes...

...she married.

O most wicked speed...

...to post with such dexterity

to incestuous sheets.

lt is not...

...nor it cannot come to good.

But break, my heart...

...for I must hold my tongue.

Hail to your lordship.

I am glad to see thee well.

Horatio.

Or I do forget myself.

The same, my lord,

and your poor servant ever.

Sir, my good friend,

Ill change that name with you.

And what make you from Wittenberg,

Horatio? Marcellus.

-My good lord.

-l am very glad to see you.

Good even, sir.

But what in faith

make you from Wittenberg?

A truant disposition, good my lord.

I would not hear your enemy say so,

nor shall you do my ear that violence...

...to make it truster of your own report

against yourself. I know you are no truant.

But what is your affair in Elsinore?

We'll teach you to drink deep

ere you depart.

My lord, I came to see

your father's funeral.

I pray thee do not mock me, fellow student.

I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

-Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.

-Thrift, thrift, Horatio.

The funeral baked meats

did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

ere I had ever seen that day, Horatio.

My father.

Methinks I see my father.

Where, my lord?

In my mind's eye, Horatio.

I saw him once.

He was a goodly king.

He was a man.

Take him for all in all...

... I shall not look upon his like again.

My lord...

... I think...

... I saw him yesternight.

Saw?

Who?

My lord, the king...

...your father.

The king my father?

Season your admiration for a while

with an attent ear till I may deliver...

...upon the witness of these gentlemen,

this marvel to you.

For God's love, let me hear.

Two nights together had these gentlemen,

Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch...

...in the dead waste and middle

of the night, been thus encountered.

A figure like your father,

armed at all points exactly, cap-a-pie...

...appears before them,

and with solemn march...

...goes slow and stately by them.

Thrice he walked by their oppressed

and fear-surprised eyes...

...within his truncheon's length,

whilst they distilled...

...almost to jelly with the act of fear,

stand dumb and speak not to him.

This to me in dreadful secrecy

impart they did...

...and I with them the third night

kept the watch...

...where, as they had delivered,

both in time...

...form of the thing,

each word made true and good...

...the apparition comes.

I knew your father.

-These hands are not more like.

-But where was this?

Upon the platform where we watched.

-Did you not speak to it?

-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 vanished from our sight.

'Tis very strange.

As I do live, my honor'd lord, 'tis true.

We did think it writ down in our duty

to let you know of it.

Indeed, indeed, sirs.

But this troubles me.

Hold you the watch tonight?

-We do.

-Armed, say you?

BOTH:
Armed, my lord.

-From top to toe?

-From head to foot.

-Then saw you not his face.

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

What looked he? Frowningly?

-Countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

-Pale, or red?

-Very pale.

-And fix'd his eyes upon you?

Most constantly.

I would I had been there.

-It would have much amazed you.

-Very like...

...very like.

-Stayed it long?

-With moderate haste might tell a hundred.

-Longer, longer.

-Not when I saw't.

His beard was grizzled, no?

It was as I have seen it in his life

a sable silver'd.

I will watch tonight.

Perchance 'twill walk again.

I warrant you it will.

If it assume my noble father's person...

... Ill speak to it though hell itself

should gape...

...and bid me hold my peace.

I pray you all,

if you have hitherto concealed this sight...

...let it be tenable in your silence still...

...and whatsoever else

shall hap tonight...

...give it an understanding but no tongue.

I will requite your loves.

So fare you well.

Upon the platform 'twixt 11 and 12

Ill visit you.

-Our duty to your honor.

-Your loves, as mine to you.

Farewell.

HAMLET:

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.

My necessaries are embarked. Farewell.

And sister, as the winds give benefit

and convoy is assistant, do not sleep...

...but let me hear from you.

Do you doubt that?

For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favor,

hold it a fashion and a toy in blood...

...a violet in the youth of primy nature,

forward not permanent, sweet not lasting...

...the perfume and suppliance of a minute,

no more.

-No more but so?

-Think it no more.

For nature crescent does not grow alone

in thews and bulk...

...but as his 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 besmirch

the virtue of his will. But you must fear...

...his greatness weighed,

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 sanity and health

of the whole state.

And therefore must his choice

be circumscribed...

...unto the voice and yielding of that body

whereof he is the head.

Then if he says he loves you,

it fits your wisdom so far to believe it...

...as he in his particular act and place

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