Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Tragedy of Hamlet/Act 4 Scene 5
Enter Queene and Horatio.
Qu.
I will not speake with her.
I will not speake with her.
Hor.
She is importunate, indeed distract her moode
will needs be pittied.
She is importunate, indeed distract her moode
will needs be pittied.
Qu.
What would she haue?
What would she haue?
Hor.
She speakes much of her Father; saies she heares
There's trickes i'th'world, and hems, and beats her heart,
Spumes enuiously at Strawes, speakes things in doubt,
That carry but halfe sense: Her speech is nothing,
Yet the vnshaped vse of it doth moue
The hearers to Collection; they ayme at it,
And botch the words vp fit to their owne thoughts,
Which as her winkes, and nods, and gestures yeeld them,
Indeed would make one thinke there would be thought,
Though nothing sure, yet much vnhappily.
She speakes much of her Father; saies she heares
There's trickes i'th'world, and hems, and beats her heart,
Spumes enuiously at Strawes, speakes things in doubt,
That carry but halfe sense: Her speech is nothing,
Yet the vnshaped vse of it doth moue
The hearers to Collection; they ayme at it,
And botch the words vp fit to their owne thoughts,
Which as her winkes, and nods, and gestures yeeld them,
Indeed would make one thinke there would be thought,
Though nothing sure, yet much vnhappily.
Qu.
'Twere good she were spoken with,
For she may strew dangerous coniectures
In ill breeding minds. Let her come in.
To my sicke soule (as sinnes true Nature is)
Each toy seemes Prologue, to some great amisse,
So full of Artlesse iealousie is guilt,
It spill's it selfe, in fearing to be spilt.
'Twere good she were spoken with,
For she may strew dangerous coniectures
In ill breeding minds. Let her come in.
To my sicke soule (as sinnes true Nature is)
Each toy seemes Prologue, to some great amisse,
So full of Artlesse iealousie is guilt,
It spill's it selfe, in fearing to be spilt.
Enter Ophelia distracted.
Ophe.
Where is the beauteous Maiesty of Denmark.
Where is the beauteous Maiesty of Denmark.
Qu.
How now Ophelia?
How now Ophelia?
Ophe.
How shonld I your true loue know from another one?
By his Cockle hat and staffe, and his Sandal shoone.
How shonld I your true loue know from another one?
By his Cockle hat and staffe, and his Sandal shoone.
Qu.
Alas sweet Lady: what imports this Song?
Alas sweet Lady: what imports this Song?
Ophe.
Say you? Nay pray you marke.
He is dead and gone Lady, he is dead and gone,
At his head a grasse-greene Turfe, at his heeles a stone.
Say you? Nay pray you marke.
He is dead and gone Lady, he is dead and gone,
At his head a grasse-greene Turfe, at his heeles a stone.
Enter King.
Qu.
Nay but Ophelia.
Nay but Ophelia.
Ophe.
Pray you marke.
White his Shrow'd as the Mountaine Snow.
Pray you marke.
White his Shrow'd as the Mountaine Snow.
Qu.
Alas, looke heere my Lord.
Alas, looke heere my Lord.
Ophe.
Larded with sweet flowers:
Which bewept to the graue did not go,
With true-loue showres.
Larded with sweet flowers:
Which bewept to the graue did not go,
With true-loue showres.
King.
How do ye, pretty Lady?
How do ye, pretty Lady?
Ophe.
Well, God dil'd you. They say the Owle was
a Bakers daughter. Lord, wee know what we are, but
know not what we may be. God be at your Table.
Well, God dil'd you. They say the Owle was
a Bakers daughter. Lord, wee know what we are, but
know not what we may be. God be at your Table.
King.
Conceit vpon her Father.
Conceit vpon her Father.
Ophe.
Pray you let's haue no words of this: but when
they aske you what it meanes, say you this:
To morrow is S. Valentines day, all in the morning betime,
And I a Maid at your Window, to be your Valentine.
Then vp he rose, & don'd his clothes, & dupt the chamber dore,
Let in the Maid, that out a Maid, neuer departed more.
Pray you let's haue no words of this: but when
they aske you what it meanes, say you this:
To morrow is S. Valentines day, all in the morning betime,
And I a Maid at your Window, to be your Valentine.
Then vp he rose, & don'd his clothes, & dupt the chamber dore,
Let in the Maid, that out a Maid, neuer departed more.
King.
Pretty Ophelia.
Pretty Ophelia.
Ophe.
Indeed la? without an oath Ile make an end ont.
By gis, and by S. Charity,
Alacke, and fie for shame:
Yong men wil doo't, if they come too't,
By Cocke they are too blame.
Quoth she before you tumbled me,
Yon promis'd me to Wed:
So would I ha done by yonder Sunne,
And thou hadst not come to my bed.
Indeed la? without an oath Ile make an end ont.
By gis, and by S. Charity,
Alacke, and fie for shame:
Yong men wil doo't, if they come too't,
By Cocke they are too blame.
Quoth she before you tumbled me,
Yon promis'd me to Wed:
So would I ha done by yonder Sunne,
And thou hadst not come to my bed.
King.
How long hath she bin this?
How long hath she bin this?
Ophe.
I hope all will be well. We must bee patient,
but I cannot choose but weepe, to thinke they should
lay him i'th'cold ground: My brother shall knowe of it,
and so I thanke you for your good counsell. Come, my
Coach: Goodnight Ladies: Goodnight sweet Ladies:
Exit.Goodnight, goodnight.
I hope all will be well. We must bee patient,
but I cannot choose but weepe, to thinke they should
lay him i'th'cold ground: My brother shall knowe of it,
and so I thanke you for your good counsell. Come, my
Coach: Goodnight Ladies: Goodnight sweet Ladies:
Exit.Goodnight, goodnight.
King.
Follow her close,
Giue her good watch I pray you:
Oh this is the poyson of deepe greefe, it springs
All from her Fathers death. Oh Gertrude, Gertrude,
When sorrowes comes, they come not single spies,
But in Battaliaes. First, her Father slaine,
Next your Sonne gone, and he most violent Author
Of his owne iust remoue: the people muddied,
Thicke and vnwholsome in their thoughts, and whispers
For good Polonius death; and we haue done but greenly
In hugger mugger to interre him. Poore Ophelia
Diuided from her selfe, and her faire Iudgement,
Without the which we are Pictures, or meere Beasts.
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her Brother is in secret come from France,
Keepes on his wonder, keepes himselfe in clouds,
And wants not Buzzers to infect his eare
With pestilent Speeches of his Fathers death,
Where in necessitie of matter Beggard,
Will nothing sticke our persons to Arraigne
In eare and eare. O my deere Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering Peece in many places,
A Noise within.Giues me superfluous death.
Follow her close,
Giue her good watch I pray you:
Oh this is the poyson of deepe greefe, it springs
All from her Fathers death. Oh Gertrude, Gertrude,
When sorrowes comes, they come not single spies,
But in Battaliaes. First, her Father slaine,
Next your Sonne gone, and he most violent Author
Of his owne iust remoue: the people muddied,
Thicke and vnwholsome in their thoughts, and whispers
For good Polonius death; and we haue done but greenly
In hugger mugger to interre him. Poore Ophelia
Diuided from her selfe, and her faire Iudgement,
Without the which we are Pictures, or meere Beasts.
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her Brother is in secret come from France,
Keepes on his wonder, keepes himselfe in clouds,
And wants not Buzzers to infect his eare
With pestilent Speeches of his Fathers death,
Where in necessitie of matter Beggard,
Will nothing sticke our persons to Arraigne
In eare and eare. O my deere Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering Peece in many places,
A Noise within.Giues me superfluous death.
Enter a Messenger.
Qu.
Alacke, what noyse is this?
Alacke, what noyse is this?
King.
Where are my Switzers?
Let them guard the doore. What is the matter?
Where are my Switzers?
Let them guard the doore. What is the matter?
Mes.
Saue your selfe, my Lord.
The Ocean (ouer-peering of his List)
Eates not the Flats with more impittious haste
Then young Laertes, in a Riotous head,
Ore-beares your Officers, the rabble call him Lord,
And as the world were now but to begin,
Antiquity forgot, Custome not knowne,
The Ratifiers and props of euery word,
They cry choose we? Laertes shall be King,
Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
Laertes shall be King, Laertes King.
Saue your selfe, my Lord.
The Ocean (ouer-peering of his List)
Eates not the Flats with more impittious haste
Then young Laertes, in a Riotous head,
Ore-beares your Officers, the rabble call him Lord,
And as the world were now but to begin,
Antiquity forgot, Custome not knowne,
The Ratifiers and props of euery word,
They cry choose we? Laertes shall be King,
Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds,
Laertes shall be King, Laertes King.
Qu.
How cheerefully on the false Traile they cry.
Oh this is Counter you false Danish Dogges.
How cheerefully on the false Traile they cry.
Oh this is Counter you false Danish Dogges.
Noise within.Enter Laertes.
King.
The doores are broke.
The doores are broke.
Laer.
Where is the King, sirs? Stand you all without.
Where is the King, sirs? Stand you all without.
All.
No, let's come in.
No, let's come in.
Laer.
I pray you giue me leaue.
I pray you giue me leaue.
Al.
We will, we will.
We will, we will.
Laer.
I thanke you: Keepe the doore.
Oh thou vilde King, giue me my Father.
I thanke you: Keepe the doore.
Oh thou vilde King, giue me my Father.
Qu.
Calmely good Laertes.
Calmely good Laertes.
Laer.
That drop of blood, that calmes
Proclaimes me Bastard:
Cries Cuckold to my Father, brands the Harlot
Euen here between the chaste vnsmirched brow
Of my true Mother.
That drop of blood, that calmes
Proclaimes me Bastard:
Cries Cuckold to my Father, brands the Harlot
Euen here between the chaste vnsmirched brow
Of my true Mother.
King.
What is the cause Laertes,
That thy Rebellion lookes so Gyant-like?
Let him go Gertrude: Do not feare our person:
There's such Diuinity doth hedge a King,
That Treason can but peepe to what it would,
Acts little of his will. Tell me Laertes,
Why thou art thus Incenst? Let him go Gertrude.
Speake man.
What is the cause Laertes,
That thy Rebellion lookes so Gyant-like?
Let him go Gertrude: Do not feare our person:
There's such Diuinity doth hedge a King,
That Treason can but peepe to what it would,
Acts little of his will. Tell me Laertes,
Why thou art thus Incenst? Let him go Gertrude.
Speake man.
Laer.
Where's my Father?
Where's my Father?
King.
Dead.
Dead.
Qu.
But not by him.
But not by him.
King.
Let him demand his fill.
Let him demand his fill.
Laer.
How came he dead? Ile not be Iuggel'd with.
To hell Allegeance: Vowes, to the blackest diuell.
Conscience and Grace, to the profoundest Pit.
I dare Damnation: to this point I stand,
That both the worlds I giue to negligence,
Let come what comes: onely Ile be reueng'd
Most throughly for my Father.
How came he dead? Ile not be Iuggel'd with.
To hell Allegeance: Vowes, to the blackest diuell.
Conscience and Grace, to the profoundest Pit.
I dare Damnation: to this point I stand,
That both the worlds I giue to negligence,
Let come what comes: onely Ile be reueng'd
Most throughly for my Father.
King.
Who shall stay you?
Who shall stay you?
Laer.
My Will, not all the world,
And for, my meanes, Ile husband them so well,
They shall go farre with little.
My Will, not all the world,
And for, my meanes, Ile husband them so well,
They shall go farre with little.
King.
Good Laertes:
If you desire to know the certaintie
Of your deere Fathers death, if writ in your reuenge,
That Soop-stake you will draw both Friend and Foe,
Winner and Looser.
Good Laertes:
If you desire to know the certaintie
Of your deere Fathers death, if writ in your reuenge,
That Soop-stake you will draw both Friend and Foe,
Winner and Looser.
Laer.
None but his Enemies.
None but his Enemies.
King.
Will you know them then.
Will you know them then.
La.
To his good Friends, thus wide Ile ope my Armes:
And like the kinde Life-rend'ring Politician,
Repast them with my blood.
To his good Friends, thus wide Ile ope my Armes:
And like the kinde Life-rend'ring Politician,
Repast them with my blood.
King.
Why now you speake
Like a good Childe, and a true Gentleman.
That I am guiltlesse of your Fathers death,
And am most sensible in greefe for it,
It shall as leuell to your Iudgement pierce
As day do's to your eye.
A noise within. Let her come in.
Enter Ophelia.
Why now you speake
Like a good Childe, and a true Gentleman.
That I am guiltlesse of your Fathers death,
And am most sensible in greefe for it,
It shall as leuell to your Iudgement pierce
As day do's to your eye.
A noise within. Let her come in.
Enter Ophelia.
Laer.
How now? what noise is that?
Oh heate drie vp my Braines, teares seuen times salt,
Burne out the Sence and Vertue of mine eye.
By Heauen, thy madnesse shall be payed by waight,
Till our Scale turnes the beame. Oh Rose of May,
Deere Maid, kinde Sister, sweet Ophelia:
Oh Heauens, is't possible, a yong Maids wits,
Should be as mortall as an old mans life?
Nature is fine in Loue, and where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of it selfe
After the thing it loues.
How now? what noise is that?
Oh heate drie vp my Braines, teares seuen times salt,
Burne out the Sence and Vertue of mine eye.
By Heauen, thy madnesse shall be payed by waight,
Till our Scale turnes the beame. Oh Rose of May,
Deere Maid, kinde Sister, sweet Ophelia:
Oh Heauens, is't possible, a yong Maids wits,
Should be as mortall as an old mans life?
Nature is fine in Loue, and where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of it selfe
After the thing it loues.
Ophe.
They bore him Bare fac'd on the Beer,
Hey non nony, nony, hey nony:
And on his graue raines many a teare,
Fare you well my Doue.
They bore him Bare fac'd on the Beer,
Hey non nony, nony, hey nony:
And on his graue raines many a teare,
Fare you well my Doue.
Laer.
Had'st thou thy wits, and did'st perswade
Reuenge, it could not moue thus.
Had'st thou thy wits, and did'st perswade
Reuenge, it could not moue thus.
Ophe.
You must sing downe a-downe, and you call
him a-downe-a. Oh, how the wheele becomes it? It is
the false steward that stole his masters daughter.
You must sing downe a-downe, and you call
him a-downe-a. Oh, how the wheele becomes it? It is
the false steward that stole his masters daughter.
Laer.
This nothings more then matter.
This nothings more then matter.
Ophe.
There's Rosemary, that's for Remembraunce.
Pray loue remember: and there is Paconcies, that's for
Thoughts.
There's Rosemary, that's for Remembraunce.
Pray loue remember: and there is Paconcies, that's for
Thoughts.
Laer.
A document in madnesse, thoughts & remembrance fitted.
A document in madnesse, thoughts & remembrance fitted.
Ophe.
There's Fennell for you, and Columbines: ther's
Rew for you, and heere's some for me. Wee may call it
Herbe-Grace a Sundaies: Oh you must weare your Rew
with a difference. There's a Daysie, I would giue you
some Violets, but they wither'd all when my Father dyed:
They say, he made a good end;
For bonny sweet Robin is all my ioy.
There's Fennell for you, and Columbines: ther's
Rew for you, and heere's some for me. Wee may call it
Herbe-Grace a Sundaies: Oh you must weare your Rew
with a difference. There's a Daysie, I would giue you
some Violets, but they wither'd all when my Father dyed:
They say, he made a good end;
For bonny sweet Robin is all my ioy.
Laer.
Thought, and Affliction, Passion, Hell it selfe:
She turnes to Fauour, and to prettinesse.
Thought, and Affliction, Passion, Hell it selfe:
She turnes to Fauour, and to prettinesse.
Ophe.
And will he not come againe,
And will he not come againe:
No, no, he is dead, go to thy Death-bed,
He neuer wil come againe.
His Beard as white as Snow,
All Flaxen was his Pole:
He is gone, he is gone, and we cast away mone,
Gramercy on his Soule.
And of all Christian Soules, I pray God.
Exeunt OpheliaGod buy ye.
And will he not come againe,
And will he not come againe:
No, no, he is dead, go to thy Death-bed,
He neuer wil come againe.
His Beard as white as Snow,
All Flaxen was his Pole:
He is gone, he is gone, and we cast away mone,
Gramercy on his Soule.
And of all Christian Soules, I pray God.
Exeunt OpheliaGod buy ye.
Laer.
Do you see this, you Gods?
Do you see this, you Gods?
King.
Laertes, I must common with your greefe,
Or you deny me right: go but apart,
Make choice of whom your wisest Friends you will,
And they shall heare and iudge 'twixt you and me;
If by direct or by Colaterall hand
They finde vs touch'd, we will our Kingdome giue,
Our Crowne, our Life, and all that we call Ours
To you in satisfaction. But if not,
Be you content to lend your patience to vs,
And we shall ioyntly labour with your soule
To giue it due content.
Laertes, I must common with your greefe,
Or you deny me right: go but apart,
Make choice of whom your wisest Friends you will,
And they shall heare and iudge 'twixt you and me;
If by direct or by Colaterall hand
They finde vs touch'd, we will our Kingdome giue,
Our Crowne, our Life, and all that we call Ours
To you in satisfaction. But if not,
Be you content to lend your patience to vs,
And we shall ioyntly labour with your soule
To giue it due content.
Laer.
Let this be so:
His meanes of death, his obscure buriall;
No Trophee, Sword, nor Hatchment o're his bones,
No Noble rite, nor formall ostentation,
Cry to be heard, as 'twere from Heauen to Earth,
That I must call in question.
Let this be so:
His meanes of death, his obscure buriall;
No Trophee, Sword, nor Hatchment o're his bones,
No Noble rite, nor formall ostentation,
Cry to be heard, as 'twere from Heauen to Earth,
That I must call in question.
King.
So you shall:
And where th'offence is, let the great Axe fall.
ExeuntI pray you go with me.
So you shall:
And where th'offence is, let the great Axe fall.
ExeuntI pray you go with me.