Obrázky stránek
PDF
ePub

Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,
He bath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bands 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
Of these related articles allow,
Farewell; and let your haste commend your

duty. Cor. Vol. In that, and all things, will we show

our duty. King. We doubt it nothing; heartily farewell.

(Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS.

Laertes, what's the news with yon? You told ns of some suit; What is't, Laertes ? You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, And lose your voice: What would'st thou beg,

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 would'st thou have, Laertes ? Laer.

My dread lord, Your leave and favour to return to France; From whence though willingly I came to Den.

mark, To show my duty in your coronation; Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward

France, And bow them to your gracious leave and par

don. King. Have you your father's leave? Wbat

says Polonius

And now,

you?

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

sun. Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour

off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark, Do not, for ever, with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble father in the dust: Thou know'st, 'uis common; all, that live, must

die, Passing through nature to eternity.

Ham. Ay, madam, it is common.

Queen.
Why seems it so particular with thee?

Ham. Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief,
That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem,
For they are actions that a man might play ;
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, lost his; and the survivor bound In filial obligation for some term To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever In obstinate condolement is a course

If it be,

seems.

Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief:
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven;
A heart unfortified, or mind impatient;
An understanding simple and unschool'd :
For what, we know, must be, and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we, in our peevish opposition,
Take it to heart? Fye! 'tis a fault to heaven,
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 rouse the heaven shall bruit again, Respeaking earthly thunder. Come away. (Exeunt King, Queen, Lords, &c. POLONIUS,

and LAERTES. Ham. O, that this too too solid fiesb would

melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon’gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fye on't! 0 fye! '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 follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears;-why-she, even she,O heaven! a beast, that wants discourse of reaWould bave 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 uprighteous tears Had left the flushing in ber galled eyes, She married :-0 most wicked speed, to post With

such dexterity to incestuous sheets ! It is not, nor it cannot come to, good; But break, my heart: for I must hold my tongue!

son,

Enter HORATIO, BERNARDO, and MARCELLUS.
Hor. Hail to your lordship!
Ham.

I am glad to see you well;
Horatio,-or I do forget myself.
Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor ser.

vant ever. Ham, Sir, my good friend; l'll change that

name with you. And what make you from Wittenberg, Ho.

ratio ?Marcellus?

Mar. My good lord,

Ham. I am very glad to see you ; good even, But what, in faith, make

you

from Wittenberg ?

sir.

mind's eye,

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 yon are no traant. 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, fellow

student; 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 ? Ham. In my

Horatio, Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly king.

Ham. He was a man take him for all in all, I 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.
Н.

For God's love, let me hear. Hor. Two nightstogether had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead waste and middle of the night, Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, Armed at point, exactly, cap-a-pe, Appears before them, and, with solemn march, Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk’d, By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes, Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, dis

till'd Almost to jelly with the act of fear, Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me

« PředchozíPokračovat »