Hamlet Page #8

...celestial and my soul's idol...

...the most beautified Ophelia."

That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase...

..."beautified" is a vile phrase.

But you shall hear.

"These...

...in...

...her excellent...

...white bosom, these."

Came this from Hamlet to her?

Good madam, stay awhile.

I will be faithful.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire,

doubt that the sun doth move...

...doubt truth to be a liar,

but never doubt I love."

Dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers.

I have not art to reckon my groans.

But that I love thee best...

...O most best, believe it.

Adieu, adieu.

Thine evermore....

"Most dear lady,

whilst this machine is to him, Hamlet."

This in obedience

hath my daughter showed me...

...and more above hath his solicitings...

...as they fell out by time,

by means, and place...

...all given to mine ear.

How hath she receiv'd his love?

-What do you think of me?

-As of a man faithful and honorable.

I would fain prove so.

But what might you think,

when I had seen this hot love on the wing...

...as I perceived it,

before my daughter told me...

...what might you, or your queen, think

if I had played the desk or table-book?

Or given my heart

a winking mute and dumb?

Or looked upon this with idle sight,

what might you think?

No, I went round to work,

and my young mistress thus I did bespeak:

"Lord Hamlet is a prince out of thy star.

This must not be."

And then I precepts gave her,

that she should lock herself from his resort...

...admit no messengers,

receive no tokens.

Which done, she took

the fruits of my advice...

...and he, repulsed-- A short tale to make.

--fell into a sadness, then into a fast...

...thence to a watch,

thence into a weakness...

...thence to a likeness, by this declension,

into the madness wherein now he raves...

...and we wail for.

-Do you think 'tis this?

-It may be. Very like.

Hath there been such a time--

I'd fain know that.

--that I have said, "'Tis so,"

when it proved otherwise?

-Not that I know.

-Take this from this if this be otherwise.

If circumstances lead me I will find

where truth is hid...

...though it were hid indeed

within the center.

How may we try it further?

You know, sometimes he walks

four hours together here in the lobby.

So he does indeed.

At such a time,

Ill loose my daughter to him.

Be you and I behind an arras then.

Mark the encounter.

If he love her not

and be not from his reason fall'n thereon...

...let me be no assistant for a state,

but keep a farm and carters.

-We will try it.

-But look...

...oh, where sadly the poor wretch

comes reading.

Away, I do beseech you, both away.

Ill board him presently.

O give me leave.

How does my good Lord Hamlet?

[GASPS]

Well, God-a-mercy.

Do you know me, my lord?

Excellent well. You are a fishmonger.

-Not I, my lord.

-Then I would you were so honest a man.

-Honest, my lord?

-Ay, sir.

To be honest, as this world goes,

is to be one man picked out of 10,000.

That's very true, my lord.

For if the sun breed maggots

in a dead dog...

...being a god kissing carrion.

Have you a daughter?

I have, my lord.

Let her not walk i' the sun.

Conception is a blessing,

but as your daughter may conceive....

Friend...

...look to it.

How say you by that?

Still harping on my daughter.

Yet he knew me not at first.

He said I was a fishmonger.

He is far gone, far gone.

And truly in my youth

I suffered much extremity for love...

...very near this.

Ill speak to him again.

-What do you read, my lord?

-Words.

Words.

-Words.

-What is the matter, my lord?

-Between who?

-I mean the matter you read.

Slanders, sir. For the satirical rogue

says here that old men have gray beards...

...that their faces are wrinkled...

...their eyes purging thick amber

and plum-tree gum...

...and that they have a plentiful lack of wit,

together with most weak hams.

All which, sir,

though I most powerfully believe...

...yet I hold it not honesty to have it

thus set down.

For you yourself, sir,

shall grow old as I am...

...if, like a crab, you could go backward.

Though this be madness,

yet there is method in 't.

-Will you walk out of the air, my lord?

-Into my grave?

Indeed, that is out of the air.

How pregnant sometimes his replies are.

A happiness

that often madness hits on...

...which reason and sanity could not

so prosperously be delivered of.

I will leave him, and suddenly contrive...

...the means of meeting

between him and my daughter.

My lord?

My lord, I will take my leave of you.

You cannot, sir, take from me anything

I would more willingly part withal.

Except my life.

Fare you well, my lord.

These tedious old fools.

My honored lord!

You go to seek the Lord Hamlet.

There he is.

Mine honored lord!

[CHUCKLING]

My most dear lord.

HAMLET:

My excellent good friends.

How dost thou, Guildenstern?

Rosencrantz?

Good lads, how do ye both?

As the indifferent children of the earth.

Happy in that we are not over-happy,

on Fortune's cap we are not the very button.

-Nor the soles of her shoes?

-Neither, my lord.

You live about her waist,

in the middle of her favors?

Faith, her privates we.

In the secret parts of Fortune? Most true,

she is a strumpet. What news?

None, my lord,

but that the world's grown honest.

Then is doomsday near.

But your news is not true.

Let me question in particular.

What have you deserved at the hands

of Fortune that she sends you to prison?

-Prison?

-Denmark's a prison.

-Then is the world one.

-A goodly one.

In which there are many confines,

wards and dungeons...

-...Denmark being one of the worst.

-We think not so, my lord.

Why, then 'tis none to you...

...for there is nothing either good or bad

but thinking makes it so.

To me it is a prison.

Why, then your ambition makes it one.

'Tis too narrow for your mind.

O God, I could be bounded

in a nutshell...

...and count myself

a king of infinite space...

...were it not that I have bad dreams.

Which dreams indeed are ambition.

For the very substance of the ambitious

is merely the shadow of a dream.

A dream itself is but a shadow.

And I hold ambition

of so airy and light a quality...

...it is but a shadow's shadow.

Well, then are our beggars bodies...

...and our monarchs and outstretched

heroes the beggars' shadows.

Shall we to the court?

For, by my fay, I cannot reason.

-We'll wait upon you.

-No such matter.

I will not sort you with the rest

of my servants...

...for, to speak to you like an honest man,

I am most dreadfully attended.

But in the beaten way of friendship,

what make you at Elsinore?

To visit you, my lord. No other occasion.

Beggar that I am,

I am even poor in thanks...

...but I thank you.

And sure, dear friends,

my thanks are too dear a halfpenny.

Were you not sent for?

Is it your own inclining?

Is it a free visitation?

Come, deal justly with me.

Come, come. Nay, speak.

What should we say, my lord?

Why, anything but to th' purpose!

You were sent for.

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