The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

See what a grace was seated on this brow; Hyperion’s curls; the front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; A station like the herald Mercury

New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill: A combination and a form indeed

Where every god did seem to set his seal To give the world assurance of a man.

This was your husband. Look you now what follows.

Here is your husband, like a mildew’d ear Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?

Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes You cannot call it love; for at your age The heyday in the blood is tame, it’s humble, And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment Would step from this to this? Sense sure you have, Else could you not have motion; but sure that sense Is apoplex’d; for madness would not err, Nor sense to ecstacy was ne’er so thrall’d But it reserv’d some quantity of choice To serve in such a difference. What devil was’t That thus hath cozen’d you at hoodman-blind?

Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, Or but a sickly part of one true sense Could not so mope.

O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, If thou canst mutine in a matron’s bones, To flaming youth let virtue be as wax And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame When the compulsive ardour gives the charge, Since frost itself as actively doth burn, And reason panders will.

Queen. O Hamlet, speak no more!

Thou turn’st mine eyes into my very soul, And there I see such black and grained spots As will not leave their tinct.

Ham. Nay, but to live

In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed, Stew’d in corruption, honeying and making love Over the nasty sty!

Queen. O, speak to me no more!

These words like daggers enter in mine ears.

No more, sweet Hamlet!

Ham. A murtherer and a villain!

A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings; A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, That from a shelf the precious diadem stole And put it in his pocket!

Queen. No more!

Enter the Ghost in his nightgown.

Ham. A king of shreds and patches!-

Save me and hover o’er me with your wings, You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?

Queen. Alas, he’s mad!

Ham. Do you not come your tardy son to chide, That, laps’d in time and passion, lets go by Th’ important acting of your dread command?

O, say!

Ghost. Do not forget. This visitation

Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.

But look, amazement on thy mother sits.

O, step between her and her fighting soul Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.

Speak to her, Hamlet.

Ham. How is it with you, lady?

Queen. Alas, how is’t with you,

That you do bend your eye on vacancy, And with th’ encorporal air do hold discourse?

Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep; And, as the sleeping soldiers in th’ alarm, Your bedded hairs, like life in excrements, Start up and stand an end. O gentle son, Upon the beat and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle cool patience! Whereon do you look?

Ham. On him, on him! Look you how pale he glares!

His form and cause conjoin’d, preaching to stones, Would make them capable.- Do not look upon me, Lest with this piteous action you convert My stern effects. Then what I have to do Will want true colour-tears perchance for blood.

Queen. To whom do you speak this?

Ham. Do you see nothing there?

Queen. Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.

Ham. Nor did you nothing hear?

Queen. No, nothing but ourselves.

Ham. Why, look you there! Look how it steals away!

My father, in his habit as he liv’d!

Look where he goes even now out at the portal!

Exit Ghost.

Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain.

This bodiless creation ecstasy

Is very cunning in.

Ham. Ecstasy?

My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time And makes as healthful music. It is not madness That I have utt’red. Bring me to the test, And I the matter will reword; which madness Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul That not your trespass but my madness speaks.

It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, Whiles rank corruption, mining all within, Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven; Repent what’s past; avoid what is to come; And do not spread the compost on the weeds To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue; For in the fatness of these pursy times Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg-Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.

Queen. O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.

Ham. O, throw away the worser part of it, And live the purer with the other half, Good night-but go not to my uncle’s bed.

Assume a virtue, if you have it not.

That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat Of habits evil, is angel yet in this, That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock or livery,

That aptly is put on. Refrain tonight, And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence; the next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either [master] the devil, or throw him out With wondrous potency. Once more, good night; And when you are desirous to be blest, I’ll blessing beg of you.- For this same lord, I do repent; but heaven hath pleas’d it so, To punish me with this, and this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister.

I will bestow him, and will answer well The death I gave him. So again, good night.

I must be cruel, only to be kind;

Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.

One word more, good lady.

Queen. What shall I do?

Ham. Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: Let the bloat King tempt you again to bed; Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse; And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, Or paddling in your neck with his damn’d fingers, Make you to ravel all this matter out, That I essentially am not in madness, But mad in craft. ‘Twere good you let him know; For who that’s but a queen, fair, sober, wise, Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib Such dear concernings hide? Who would do so?

No, in despite of sense and secrecy,

Unpeg the basket on the house’s top,

Let the birds fly, and like the famous ape, To try conclusions, in the basket creep And break your own neck down.

Queen. Be thou assur’d, if words be made of breath, And breath of life, I have no life to breathe What thou hast said to me.

Ham. I must to England; you know that?

Queen. Alack,

I had forgot! ‘Tis so concluded on.

Ham. There’s letters seal’d; and my two schoolfellows, Whom I will trust as I will adders fang’d, They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way And marshal me to knavery. Let it work; For ‘tis the sport to have the enginer Hoist with his own petar; and ‘t shall go hard But I will delve one yard below their mines And blow them at the moon. O, ‘tis most sweet When in one line two crafts directly meet.

This man shall set me packing.

I’ll lug the guts into the neighbour room.-

Mother, good night.- Indeed, this counsellor Is now most still, most secret, and most grave, Who was in life a foolish peating knave.

Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.

Good night, mother.

[Exit the Queen. Then] Exit Hamlet, tugging in Polonius.

<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM

SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS

PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE

WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE

DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS

PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED

COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY

SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>

ACT IV. Scene I.

Elsinore. A room in the Castle.

Enter King and Queen, with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

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, mine own lord, what have I seen tonight!

King. What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?

Queen. Mad as the sea and wind when both contend Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit Behind the arras hearing something stir, Whips out his rapier, cries ‘A rat, a rat!’

And in this brainish apprehension kills The unseen good old man.

King. O heavy deed!

It had been so with us, had we been there.

His liberty is full of threats to all-To you yourself, to us, to every one.

Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer’d?

It will be laid to us, whose providence Should have kept short, restrain’d, and out of haunt This mad young man. But so much was our love We would not understand what was most fit, But, like the owner of a foul disease, To keep it from divulging, let it feed Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone?

Queen. To draw apart the body he hath kill’d; O’er whom his very madness, like some ore Among a mineral of metals base,

Shows itself pure. He weeps for what is done.

King. O Gertrude, come away!

The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch But we will ship him hence; and this vile deed We must with all our majesty and skill Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern!

Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Friends both, go join you with some further aid.

Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, And from his mother’s closet hath he dragg’d him.

Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body Into the chapel. I pray you haste in this.

Exeunt [Rosencrantz and Guildenstern].

Come, Gertrude, we’ll call up our wisest friends And let them know both what we mean to do And what’s untimely done. [So haply slander-]

Whose whisper o’er the world’s diameter, As level as the cannon to his blank,

Transports his poisoned shot-may miss our name And hit the woundless air.- O, come away!

My soul is full of discord and dismay.

Exeunt.

Scene II.

Elsinore. A passage in the Castle.

Enter Hamlet.

Ham. Safely stow’d.

Gentlemen. (within) Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!

Ham. 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 mouth’d, to be last Swallowed. When he needs what you have glean’d, it