NCT IV SCENE I.-The Same. Enter King, Queen, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUIL DENSTERN. King. There's matter in these sighs: these profound heaves You must translate; 'tis fit we understand them. Where is your son? Queen. Bestow this place on us a little while. [Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night! King. What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet? Queen. Mad as the sea, and wind, when both contend Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit, King. O heavy deed! It had been so with us, had we been there. To you yourself, to us, to every one. Alas! how shall this bloody deed be answer'd? Should have kept short, restrain'd, and out of haunt, Shows itself pure: he weeps for what is done. Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. SCENE II.-Another Room in the Same. Ham. Safely stowed.-[Ros. &c. within. Hamlet! lord Hamlet!] But soft!-what noise! who calls on Hamlet? O! here they come. Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Ros. What have you done, my lord, with the dead body? Ham. Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin. Ros. Tell us where 'tis; that we may take it thence, And bear it to the chapel. Ham. Do not believe it. Ros. Believe what? Ham. That I can keep your counsel, and not mine own. Besides, to be demanded of a sponge, what replication should be made by the son of a king? Ros. Take you me for a sponge, my lord? Ham. Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, his rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the king best service in the end: he keeps them, like an ape, in the corner of his jaw, first mouthed, to be last swallowed: when he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you shall be dry again. Ros. I understand you not, my lord. Ham. I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear. Ros. My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go with us to the king. Ham. The body is with the king, but the king is not with the body. The king is a thing— Guil. A thing, my lord! Ham. Of nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after. [Exeunt. How dangerous is it, that this man goes loose! Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes; This sudden sending him away must seem Enter ROSENCRANTZ. Or not at all.-How now! what hath befallen? Ros. Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord, We cannot get from him. But where is he? King. Ros. Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure. King. Bring him before us. Ros. Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord. Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN. King. Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius? Ham. At supper. King. At supper! Where? Ham. Not where he eats, but where he is eaten : a certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots: your fat king, and your lean beggar, is but variable service; two dishes, but to one table: that's the end. King. Alas, alas! Ham. A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king; and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. King. What dost thou mean by this? Ham. Nothing, but to show you how a king may go a progress through the guts of a beggar. King. Where is Polonius? Ham. In heaven: send thither to see; if your messenger find him not there, seek him i' the other place yourself. But, indeed, if you find him not within this month, you shall nose him as you go up the stairs into the lobby. King. Go seek him there. [To some Attendants. Ham. He will stay till you come. [Exeunt Attendants. King. Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety, Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve For that which thou hast done,-must send thee hence With fiery quickness: therefore, prepare thyself. Ham. King. For England? Ay, Hamlet. Ham. Good. King. So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. Ham. I see a cherub that sees them.-But, come; for England!-Farewell, dear mother. King. Thy loving father, Hamlet. Ham. My mother: father and mother is man and wife, man and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England. [Erit. King. Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard: Delay it not, I'll have him hence to-night. The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England; And thou must cure me. Till I know 'tis done, Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. [Exit. Commands them, sir? Who Cap. The nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras. Ham. Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, Or for some frontier? Cap. Truly to speak, and with no addition, Ham. Why, then the Polack never will defend it. Ham. Two thousand souls, and twenty thousand ducats, Will not debate the question of this straw: Cap. God be wi' you, sir. Ros. before. [Exit Captain. Will't please you go, my lord? Ham. I'll be with you straight. Go a little [Exeunt Ros. and GUIL. How all occasions do inform against me, And spur my dull revenge! What is a man, If his chief good, and market of his time, Be but to sleep, and feed? a beast, no more. Sure, He, that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and godlike reason, To fust in us unus'd. Now, whether it be Of thinking too precisely on th' event, A thought, which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom, And ever three parts coward,-I do not know To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare, To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is, Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss: It spills itself in fearing to be spilt. Re-enter HORATIO, with OPHELIA. Oph. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark? Queen. How now, Ophelia? Oph. How should I your true love know [Singing. By his cockle hat and staff, Queen. Alas, sweet lady! what imports this song? O, ho! He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone. Queen. Nay, but Ophelia, Oph. [Singing. Pray you, mark. Queen. Alas! look here, my lord. Which bewept to the grave did not go, King. How do you, pretty lady? Oph. Well, God'ild you! They say, the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord! we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table! King. Conceit upon her father. Oph. Pray you, let's have no words of this; but when they ask you what it means, say you this: To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day, All in the morning betime; And I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine: Then, up he rose, and don'd his clothes, Let in the maid, that out a maid King. Pretty Ophelia ! Oph. Indeed, la! without an oath, I'll make an end on't: By Gis, and by Saint Charity, Alack, and fie for shame! Young men will do't, if they come to't; Quoth she, before you tumbled me, He answers. So would I ha' done, by yonder sun, An thou hadst not come to my bed. King. How long hath she been thus? Oph. I hope, all will be well. We must be patient; but I cannot choose but weep, to think, they would lay him i' the cold ground. My brother shall know of it, and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies: good night, good night. [Exit. King. Follow her close; give her good watch, pray you. [Exit HORATIO. O! this is the poison of deep grief; it springs All from her father's death. And now, behold, O Gertrude, Gertrude! When sorrows come, they come not single spies, For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly, In hugger-mugger to inter him: poor Ophelia, Divided from herself, and her fair judgment, Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts: Last, and as much containing as all these, Gent. Save yourself, my lord; The ocean, overpeering of his list, Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste, Than young Laertes, in a riotous head, O'erbears your officers! The rabble call him, lord; And, as the world were now but to begin, Antiquity forgot, custom not known, The ratifiers and props of every word, They cry, "Choose we; Laertes shall be king!" Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds, "Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!" Queen. How cheerfully on the false trail they cry! O! this is counter, you false Danish dogs. King. The doors are broke. [Noise within. Enter LAERTES, armed; Danes following. Laer. Where is this king?-Sirs, stand you all without. Calmly, good Laertes. Laer. That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard; Cries, cuckold, to my father; brands the harlot Why thou art thus incens'd.-Let him go, Gertrude. And, like the kind life-rendering pelican, Repast them with my blood. King. Why, now you speak Danes. [Within.] Let her come in. O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt, Oph. They bore him barefac'd on the bier; It could not move thus. Oph. You must sing, Down a-down, an you call him a-down-a. O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false steward, that stole his master's daughter. Laer. This nothing's more than matter. Oph. There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts. Laer. A document in madness; thoughts and remembrance fitted. Oph. There's fennel for you, and columbines ;there's rue for you; and here's some for me: we may call it, herb of grace o' Sundays:-you may wear your rue with a difference.-There's a daisy: I would give you some violets; but they withered all when my father died.-They say, he made a good end, For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,-[Sings. Laer. Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favour, and to prettiness. |