Imagens das páginas

· Ham. They are coming to the play ; I must be Behind the arras I'll convey myself idle:

To hear the process ; I'll warrant she'll tax him Get you a place.

home, Enter KING, QUEEN, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, Ro- And, as you said, and wisely was it said,

SENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and other Lords 'Tis meet, that some more audience than a mother, attendant with his Guard, carrying torches. Since nature makes them partial, should o’erhear Danish March. Sound a flourish.

The speech of vantage. Fare you well, my liege :

h I'll call upon you ere you go to bed, Queen. Come hither, my good Hamlet, sit by

And tell you what I know. me. Ham. No, good mother, here's metal more at: 14

King. Thanks, dear my lord. [Exit Pol. tractive. [Lying down at OPHELIA's feet.,

10, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven; Pol. O, ho! do you mark that? [To the King. I

It hath the primal eldest curse upon't,

A brother's murther !- Pray can I not,
Hautboys play.

Though inclination be as sharp as will ;
Enter a King and Queen viry lovingly; the
Queen embracing him. She kneels, and makes show

My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent;

And, like a man to double business bound, of the protestation unto him. He takes her up, and deciines his head upon her neck ; lays him down

I stand in pause where I shall first begin, upon a bank of flowers; she, seeing him asleep,

| And both neglect. What if this cursed hand leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his

Were thicker than itself with brother's blood ? crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's

Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens, ears, and exit. The Queen returns ; finds the To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy, King dead, and makes passionate action. The

But to confront the visage of offence ? poisoner, with some two or three mutes, comes in And what's in prayer, but this two-fold force, again, seeming to lament with her. The dead

To be forestalled, ere we come to fall, body is carried away. The poisoner woos the Or pardon’d, being down? Then I'll look up : Queen with gifts : she seems loath and unwilling My fault is past. But, 0, what form of prayer awhile, but, in the end, accepts his love.

Can serve my turn? Forgive me my foul murOph. Belike this show imports the argument of ther! the play. 'Tis brief, my lord.

That cannot be; since I am still possess'd Ham. As woman's love.

Of those effects for which I did the murther, King. Have you heard the argument ? Is there My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen. no offence in't?

May one be pardon'd, and retain the offence ? Ham. No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; In the corrupted currents of this world, no offence i’ the world,

Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice ; King. What do you call the play?

And oft ’ris seen, the wicked prize itself Ham. The mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropi-| Buys out the law : but 'tis not so above : cally. This play is the image of a murther done There is no shufiling, there the action lies in Vienna: Gonzago is the duke's name : his wife. In his true nature ; and we ourselves compellid, Baptista : vou shall see anon: 'tis a knavish piece Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults. of work: But what of that? your majesty, and to give in evidence. When, then what rests ? we that have free souls, it toucheth us not: Let|Try what repentance can : What can it not ? the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung..!

rung Yet what can it, when one can not repent ?

O wretched state! O bosom, black as death!

O limed soul, that, struggling to be free, This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. He Art more engag'd! Help, angels, make assay ! poisons him i' the garden for his estate. His Bow, stubborn knees ! and, heart, with strings of name's Gonzago; the story is extant, and writ in

steel, choice Italian : You shall see anon, how the mur- Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe : therer gets the love of Gonzaga's wife.

All may be well!

[Retires and kncels. Oph. The king rises. Ham. What ! frighted with false fire !

Enter HAMLET. Queen. How fares my lord ?

Ham. Now might I do it, pat, now he is praying, Pol. Give o'er the play.

And now I'll do't: and so he goes to heaven : King. Give me some light : away!

And so am I reveng'd? That would be scann'd. All. Lights, lights, lights!

A villain kills my father ; and, for that, [Exeunt all but HAM. I, his sole son, do this same villain send Ham.

Soft ; now to my mother. To heaven. 0, heart, lose not thy nature ; let not ever 10, this is hire and salary, not revenge. The soul of Nero enter his firm bosom ;

He took my father grossly, full of bread; Let me be cruel, not unnatural:

With all his crimes broad blown, as fresh as May; I will speak daggers to her, but use none, And, how his audit stands, who knows, save My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites.

heaven ?

[Exit. But, in our circumstance and course of thought, SCENE.- A Room in the same.

'Tis heavy with him : And am I then reveng'd,

To take him in the purging of his soul,
Enter King and POLONIUS.

When he is fit and season'd for his passage ?
Pol, My lord, he's going to his mother's closet; No.

Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent :* Leave wringing of your hands : Peace, sit you When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage;

down, At gaming, swearing; or about some act And let me wring your heart : for so I shall, That has no relish of salvation in't:

If it be made of penetrable stuff. Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven; Queen. What have 1 done that thou dar’st wag And that his soul may be as damned, and black

thy tongue As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays : In noise so rude against me? This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. (Exit.


Such an act,
The King rises and advances.

That blurs the grace and blush of modesty ;

Calls virtue, hypocrite; takes off the rose King. My words fly up, my thoughts remain

From the fair forehead of an innocent love, below:

And sets a blister there; makes marriage vows Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go.

As false as dicer's oaths.

Ah me, what act, :: SCENE.--- Another Room in the same.

That roars so loud, and thunders in the index ?

Ham. Look here, upon this picture, and on this; Enter QUEEN and POLONIUS.

The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. Pol. He will come straight. Look, you lay See what a grace was seated on his brow : home to him:

Hyperion's curls ; the front of Jove himself ; Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear An eye like Marz, to threaten or command; with;

A station t like the herald Mercury, And that your grace hath screen’d and stood | New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; between

A combination and a form, indeed, Much heat and him. I'll silence me e'en here. Where every god did seem to set his seal," Pray you, be round with him.

To give the world assurance of a man : Ham. [Within.] Mother! mother! mother! This was your husband, -look you now what Queen.

I'll warrant you,

follows: Fear me not :-withdraw, I hear him coming. Here is your husband ; like a mildew'd ear, [POLONIUS hides himself. | Blasting his wholesome brother.


O, speak to me no more ; Enter HAMLET.

These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears; Queen. Hamlet, thou hast thy father much No more, sweet Hamlet. offended.


A murtherer, and a villain, Ham. Mother, you have my father much of- A slave, that is not twentieth part the tythe fended.

Of your precedent lord :-a vice of kings : You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife ; | A cutpurse of the empire and the rule; But would you were not so! You are my mother. That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, Queen. Nay, then I'll set those to you that can And put it in his pocket! speak.


No more. Ham. Come, come, and sit you down; you

Enter Ghost. shall not budge,


A king You go not, till I set you up a glass

Of shreds and patches :Where you may see the inmost part of you. Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, Queen. What wilt thou do? thou wilt not You heavenly guards !-What would you, gracious murther me?

figure? Help, help, ho!

Queen. Alas! he's mad! O gentle son, Pol. [Behind.) What, ho! help! help ! help! Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Ham.

How now! a rat ? [Draws. Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look ? Dead, for a ducat, dead.

* Ham. On him! on him !-Look you, how pale [HAMLET makes a pass through the arras.

he glares ! Pol. [Behind.] 0 I am slain. [Falls and dies. His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, Queen. O me, what hast thou done?

Would make them capable I.-Do not look upon Нат. Nay, I know not:

me; Is it the king ?

Lest, with this piteous action, you convert L Lifts up the arras, and draws forth POLONIUS. My stern effects : then what I have to do Queen. O, what a rash and bloody deed is this ! Will want true colour ; tears, perchance, for blood. Ham. A bloody deed! almost as bad, good

Queen. To whom do you speak this ? mother,


Do you see nothing there? As kill a king, and marry with his brother.

Queen. Nothing at all ; yet all that is I see. Queen. As kill a king!

Ham. Why, look you there! look, how it steals Ham. Ay, lady, 'twas my word.-

away! Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! My father, in his habit as he lived !

[To POL. | Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal ! I took thee for thy betters ; take thy fortune:

[Exit Ghost. Thou find'st, to be too busy is some danger. - Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain,

† Station means the act of standing, the bearing. * Seize him at a more horrid time.

# Capable means intelligent,

I must not look to have; but, in their stead, i Macb. I have almost forgot the taste of fears :
Curses not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath, The time has been, my senses would have cool'd
Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare To hear a night shriek; and my fell of hair

Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir,
Seyton —

As life were in't: I have supp'd full with horrors : Enter SEYTON.

Direness, familiar to my slaught'rous thoughts, Sey. What's your gracious pleasure ?

Cannot once start me.- Wherefore was that cry? Macb.

What news more Sey. The queen, my lord is dead. Sey. All is confirm’d, my lord, which was Macb. She would have died hereafter ; reported.

There should have been a time for such a word. Macb. I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, hack'd.

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, Give me my armour.

To the last syllable of recorded time; Sey.

'Tis not needed yet. - And all our yesterdays have lighted fools Macb. I'll put it on.

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ; Send out more horses, skir the country round; Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, Hang those that talk of fear. - Give me mine

hat talk of fear. - Give me mine. That struts and frets his hour upon the stage. armour :

And then is heard no more: it is a tale How does your patient, doctor?

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Doct.

Not so sick, my lord, Signifying nothing. As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies,

Enter a Messenger. That keep her from her rest.

Thou comost to use thy tongue; thy story quickly. Macb.

Cure her of that; | Mess. Gracious my lord,
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd ; I should report that which I say I saw,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; But know not how to do it.
Raze out the written troubles of the brain ;


Well, say, sir. And with some sweet oblivious antidote,

Mess. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff, I look'd toward Birnam, and, anon, methought, Which weighs upon the heart?

The wood began to move.
Therein the patient Macb.

Liar, and slave!
Must minister to himself.

[Striking him. Macb. Throw pbysic to the dogs, I'll none of Moss. Let me endure your wrath if't be not so ; it.

Within this three mile may you see it coming ; Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff :- I say, a moving grove. Seyton, send out.-Doctor, the thanes fly from Macb.

If thou speak’st false, me;

Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, Come, sir, dispatch :-If thou couldst, doctor, cast Till famine cling thee : if thy speech be sooth, The water of my land, find her disease,

I care not if thou dost for me as much.
And purge it to a sound and pristine health, I pull in resolution; and begin
I would applaud thee to the very echo,

To doubt the equivocation of the fiend,
That should applaud again.- Pull’t off, I say. That lies like truth : “Fear not, till Birnam wood
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, Do come to Dunsinane ;''-and now a wood
Would scour these English hence --Hearest thou Comes toward Dunsinane.-Arm, arm, and out!
of them?

If this which he avouches does appear, Doct. Ay, my good lord; your royal preparation There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here. Makes us hear something.

I'gin to be a-weary of the sun, Macb.

Bring it after me. Andwish the estate o'the world were now undone. I will not be afraid of death and bane,

Ring the alarum-bell :- Blow wind ! come wrack ! Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinané. [Exit. At least we'll die with harness on our back.

Doct. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, Profit again should hardly draw me here. SCENE.— The same. A Plain before the Castle.

Enter, with drums and colours, MALCOLM, old SCENE.-Dunsinane. Within the Castle. In

SIWARD, MACDUFF, 8c., and their Army, with

boughs. Enter, with drums and colours, MACBETH, SEYTON, Mul. Now, near 'enough ; your leavy screens and Soldiers.

throw down, Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward and show like those you are:-You, worthy uncle, walls :

Sball, with my cousin, your right noble son, The cry is still “They come:" Our castle's strength Lead our first battle : worthy Macduff, and we, Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie, Shall take upon us what else remains to do, Till famine and the ague eat them up:

According to our order. Were they not forc'd with those that should be Siw.

Fare you well.ours,

Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night, We might have met them dareful, beard to beard, Let us be beaten if we cannot fight. And beat them backward home. What is that Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give them noise ?

all breath, [A cry within, of women. Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.. · Sey. It is a cry of women, my good lor 1.

[Exeunt. Alarums continued.


SCENE VII.-The same. Another part of the Siw. Had he his hurts before ?

Rosse. Ay, on the front.

Siw. Why, then, God's soldier be he.

Had I as many sons as I have hairs, Macb. They have tied me to a stake; I cannot fly,

I would not wish them to a fairer death:
But, bear-like, I must fight the course.-

And so his knell is toll’d.


He's worth more sorrow, Macd. Turn, hell-bound, turn.

And that I'll spend for him. Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee: Siw.

He's worth no more; But get thee back, my soul is too much charg'd They say, he parted well, and paid his score: With blood of thine already.

And so, God be with him!-Here comes newer Macd. I have no words,

comfort. My voice is in my sword; thou bloodier villain

Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head. Than terms can give thee out. Macb.

I will not yield,

Macd. Hail, king! for so thou art: Behold, To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet,

where stands And to be baited with the rabble's curse.

The usurper's cursed head : the time is free; Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,

I see thee compassed with thy kingdom's pearl, Yet I will try the last: Before my body

That speak my salutation in their minds ;
I throw my warlike shield : lay on, Macduff: Whose voices I desire aloud with mine, -
And cursed be he that first cries, “Hold, enough.” | Hail, King of Scotland!

[Exeunt, fighting.

King of Scotland, bail!

(Flourish. Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter, with drum and colours,

Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of MALCOLM, old SIWARD, Rosse, LENOX, ANGUS,

time, CATHNESS, MENTEITH, and soldiers.

Before we reckon with your several loves, Mal. I would the friends we miss were safe and make us even with you. My thanes and arriv'd.

kinsmen, Siw. Some must go off ; and yet, by these I see, Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland So great a day as this is cheaply bought.

In such an honour nam’d. What's more to do, Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son. Which would be planted newly with the time, Rosse. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's As calling home our exil'd friends abroad, debt:

That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; He only liv'd but till he was a man;

Producing forth the cruel ministers The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd, of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen, In the unshrinking station where he fought, Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands But like a man he died.

Took off her life ;-—this, and what needful else Siw. Then he is dead ?

That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace, Rosse. Ay, and brought off the field : your cause we will perform in measure, time, and place; of sorrow

So thanks to all at once, and to each one, Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone. It hath no end.

[Flourish. Exeunt.



CLAUDIUS, King of Denmark.
HAMLET, his nephew.
POLONIUS, Lord Chamberlain.
LAERTES, Polonius' son.
HORATIO, Friend of Hamlet.
GUILDENSTERN, courtiers.

Ghost of Hamlet's father.
GERTRUDE, Queen of Denmark, and mother of

OPHELIA, daughter of Polonius.
Lords, Ladies, and other attendants.


ACT I. SCENE.—The same. A Room of State in the King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes ; time be

thine, Thenter the KING, QUEEN, HAMLET, POLONIUS, | But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,

| And thy best graces spend it at thy will ! LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, and Lords

Ham. A little more than kin, and less than kind. Attendant.

(Aside. King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's King. How is it that the clouds still hang on death

you ? The memory be green; and that it us befitted | Ham. Not so, my lord, I am too much i' the sun. To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nightly colour off, To be contracted in one brow of woe;

And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature, Do not, for ever, with thy vailed lids That we with wisest sorrow think on him, Seek for thy noble father in the dust : Together with remembrance of ourselves.

Thou know'st, 'tis common; all that lives must die, Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, | Passing through nature to eternity. The imperial jointress of this warlike state,

Ham. Ay, madam, it is common. Have we, as 'twere, with a defeated joy,


If it be,
With one auspicious and one dropping eye; Why seems it so particular with thee?
With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not
In equal scale, weighing delight and dole,

Taken to wife : nor have we herein barr'd 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone | Nor customary suits of solemn black,
With this affair along :-For all, our thanks. Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,
And now, Laertes, what's the news with you ? No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
You told us of some suit ? What is't, Laertes ? Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage,

Dread my lord, Together with all forms, moods, shows of grief,
Your leave and favour to return to France; That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem,
From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, For they are actions that a man might play:
To show my duty in your coronation ;

But I have that within which passeth show; Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,

These, but the trappings and the suits of woe. My thoughts and wishes bend again towards King. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your France,

nature, Hamlet, And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. To give these mourning duties to your father ; King. Have you your father's leave? What But, you must know, your father lost a father; says Polonius ?

That father lost, lost his; and the survivor bound Pol. He hath, my lord, wrung from me my In filial obligation for some term slow leave,

To do obsequious sorrow : But to persevere By laboursome petition; and, at last,

In obstinate condolement, is a course Upon his will I seal’d my hard consent :

| Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief : I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

| It shows a will most incorrect to heaven ;


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