No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

Hor. So I have heard, and do in part believe But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, [it. Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill: Break we our watch up; and, by my advice, Let us impart what we have seen to-night Unto young Hamlet: for, upon my life, This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him: Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, As needful in our loves, fitting our duty? Mar. Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know

Where we shall find him most convenient.

[Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same.-A Room of Stute in the same.

Enter the KING, QUEEN, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, LORDS, and Attendants.

King. 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,
The 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 mar-
riage,

In equal scale weighing delight and dole,*—
Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd

Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along:-For all, our thanks. Now follows, that you know, young Fortin

bras,

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 this dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing our surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bandst of law,
To our most valiant brother.-So much for

him.

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 despatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
Giving to you no further personal power
To business with the king, more than the scope
[duty.
Farewell; and let your haste commend your
Cor. Vol. In that, and all things, will we
show our duty.
King. We doubt it nothing; heartily fare-

Of these dilated articles allow.

well.

[Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS. 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, + Bonds. + Way,

* Grief.

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?

Laer. My dread lord,

Your leave and favour to return to France;
From whence though 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 toward
France,
[don.
And bow them to your gracious leave and par-
King. Have you your father's leave? What
says Polonius?

Pol. He hath, my lord, [wrung from me my slow leave,

By laboursome petition; and, at last,
Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:]
I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

King. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,

And thy best graces: spend it at thy will.But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,Ham. A little more than kin, and less than

kind.*

[Aside. King. How is it, that the clouds still hang on you?

Ham. Not so, my lord, I am too much i'the

sun.

Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour

off,

[mark. And let thine eye look like a friend on DenDo not, for ever, with thy veiled lidst Seek for thy noble father in the dust: Thou know'st, 'tis common; all, that live, must die,

Passing through nature to eternity.
Ham. Ay, madam, it is common.
Why seems it so particular with thee?
Queen. If it be,

not seems.

Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know "Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, Nor customary suits of solemn black, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, [seem, For they are actions that a man might play: That can denote me truly: These, indeed, But I have that within, which passeth show; These, but the trappings and the suits of woe. King. 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 his; and the survivor bound
In filial obligation, for some term

To do obsequious sorrow: But to perséver
In obstinate condolement, is a course

of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief:

A heart unfortified, or mind impatient;
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven;
An understanding simple and unschool'd:
For what, we know, must be, and is as com-

mon

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,

Nature: a little more than a kinsman, and less than natural one. + Lowering eyes.

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 corse, till he that died to-day,
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;
And, with no less nobility of love,

Than that which dearest father bears his son,
Do I impart toward 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.
Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers,
Hamlet;

I pray thee, stay with us, go not to Wittenberg. Ham. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

King. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply; Be as ourself in Denmark.-Madam, come; This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof, No jocund health, that Denmark drinks to-day, But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell; And the king's rouset the heaven shall bruit‡ again,

Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. [Exeunt KING, QUEEN, Lords, &c. POLONIUS, and LAERTES.

Ham. O, that this too too solid flesh would Thaw, and resolves itself into a dew! [melt, Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd [God! His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank, and gross in nature, [this! Possess it merely. That it should come to But two months dead!-nay, not so much, not So excellent a king; that was, to this, [two: Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother, That he might not beteemft the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember? why, she would hang on As if increase of appetite had grown [him, 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 follow'd my poor father's body,

Like Niobe, all tears;-why she, even she,O heaven! a beast, that wants discourse of

reason,

Would have mourn'd longer,-married with my 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!
t is not, nor it cannot come to, good;

But break, my heart: for I must hold my tongue!

Enter HORATIO, BERNARDO, and MARCELLUS.
Hor. Hail to your lordship!
Ham. I am glad to see you well:
Horatio,-or I do forget myself.

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?
Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.
Ham. I would not hear your enemy say so:
Nor shall you do mine 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.
Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's
funeral.

Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellowstudent;

I think, it was to see my mother's wedding.
Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.
Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral
bak'd meats*

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
'Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio !—
My father, Methinks, I see my father.
Hor. Where,

My lord?

I

Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king. Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all, shall not look upon his like again.

Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw! who?

Hor. My lord, the king your father.
Ham. The king my father?

Hor. Season your admiration for a while
With an attent; ear; till I may deliver,
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.

Ham. For God's love, let me hear.
Hor. Two nights together had these gentle-
men,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waist and middle of the night,
Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your
Armed at point, exactly, cap-à-pé, [father,
Appears before them, and, with solemn march,
Goes slow and stately by them: thrice be
walk'd,

By their oppress'd and fear-surprized eyes,
Within his truncheon's length; whilst they,
Almost to jelly with the act of fear, [distil'd
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 deliver'd, both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and

Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice:
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy
judgement.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy:
For the apparel oft proclaims the man;
And they in France, of the best rank and
station,

Are most select and generous, chieft in that.
Neither a borrower, nor a lender be:
For loan oft loses both itself and friend;
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.§
This above all,-To thine ownself be true;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Farewell; my blessing season this in thee!
Laer. Most humbly do I take my leave, my
lord.

Pol. The time invites you; go, your servants tend.¶

Laer. Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well What I have said to you.

Oph. 'Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it. Laer. Farewell. [Exit LAERTES. Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to

you?

Oph. So please you, something touching the lord Hamlet.

Pol. Marry, well bethought: "Tis told me, he hath very oft of late

Given private time to you: and you yourself Have of your audience been most free and

bounteous,

to.

Oph. And han given countenance to his speech, my lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven. Pol. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,

When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daugh

ter,
Giving more light than heat,-extinct in both,
Even in their promise, as it is a making,-
You must not take for fire. From this time,
Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence;
Set your entreatments‡‡ at a higher rate,
Than a command to parley. For lord Hamlet,
Believe so much in him, That he is young;

* Opinion.
+ Noble.
Economy.
| Infix.
* Untempted. tt Manner.

+ Chiefly. Wait. ‡‡ Company.

And with a larger tether may he walk,
Then may be given you: In few, Ophelia,
Do not believe his vows: for they are brokers,t
Not of that die which their investments show,
But mere implorators of unholy suits,
Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds,
The better to beguile. This is for all,-
I would not, in plain terms, from this time
forth,

Have you so slander any moment's leisure,
As to give words or talk with the lord Hamlet.
Look to't, I charge you; come your ways.
Oph. I shall obey, my lord. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-The Platform.

Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS.
Ham. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.
Hor. It is a nipping and an eager air.
Ham. What hour now?

Hor. I think, it lacks of twelve.

Mar. No, it is struck.

Hor. Indeed? I heard it not; it then draws near the season,

Wherein the spirit held is wont to walk.

[A Flourish of Trumpets, and Ordnance shot off, within. What does this mean, my lord?

Ham. The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse,||

Keeps wassel,¶ and the swaggering up

spring reels;**

[down,

And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge.

Hor. Is it a custom? Ham. Ay, marry, is't:

But to my mind,-though I am native here,
And to the manner born,-it is a custom
More honour'd in the breach, than the obser-

vance.

This heavy-headed revel, east and west, Makes us traduc'd, and tax'd of other nations: They clepett us, drunkards, and with swinish phrase

Soil our addition; and, indeed it takes
From our achievements, though perform'd at
height,

The pith and marrow of our attribute.
So, oft it chances in particular men,

That, for some vicious mode of nature in them,
As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,
Since nature cannot choose his origin,)
By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,
Oft breaking down the pales and forts of rea-
son;
Or by some habit, that too much o'er-leavens
The form of plausive manners;-that these