Hamlet Act 1 Scene 4 and 5, and Act 2

Scene 4 

Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.

HAMLET

The air cuts sharp; it is freezing cold.

HORATIO

It is a stinging and a bitter wind.

HAMLET What time is it?

HORATIO I think it's almost twelve.

MARCELLUS No, it has struck.

HORATIO

Truly, I missed it. The hour draws near

When the spirit is known to walk.

A trumpet blast and two cannons fire.

What does this signify, my lord?

HAMLET

The King stays up to party hard tonight,

He drinks his wine and dances wildly round;

And, as he gulps his German vintage down,

The drums and trumpets loudly scream and sound

To celebrate his toast.

HORATIO Is it a tradition?

HAMLET Yes, it is, truly,

But, in my view, though I was born right here

And raised this way, it is a habit

Better ignored than followed as a rule.

This drunken party known both east and west

Makes other nations mock and shame our name.

They call us drunks and with a piggish slur

Stain our reputation. And, it surely takes

From our great deeds, though done with excellence,

The core and essence of our finest traits.

It happens often in specific men

That due to some small natural flaw in them,

Like at their birth (of which they aren't guilty,

Since no one picks how they are born),

By the overgrowth of some internal trait

(Often breaking through the walls of reason),

Or by some habit that corrupts too much

The look of pleasing manners—that these men,

Bearing the mark of just one single fault,

A gift of nature or a blow of fate,

Their other virtues, though as pure as grace,

As vast as any human can possess,

Will in the public eye become corrupt

From that one flaw. A tiny drop of bad

Throws all the noble essence into doubt

And ruins his repute.

Enter Ghost.

HORATIO Look, my lord, it’s here.

HAMLET

Angels and holy spirits, keep us safe!

Are you a healthy ghost or demon damned,

Bring you sweet air or fire from the pit,

Are your intentions evil or quite kind,

You come in such a curious shape

That I will talk to you. I'll call you "Hamlet,"

"King," "Father," "Royal Dane." Oh, answer me!

Don't let me die in wonder, but explain

Why your blessed bones, buried in the grave,

Have torn their shrouds; and why the tomb,

Where we beheld you laid in quiet peace,

Has opened up its heavy marble jaws

To spit you out. What could this mean

That you, dead corpse, again in heavy steel,

Return to walk beneath the silver moon,

Making night scary, while we fools of earth

Tremble so badly in our very souls

With thoughts that go beyond our human reach?

Tell me, why is this? Why? What should we do?

Ghost signals.

HORATIO

It signals for you to go off with it

As if it wants to say a secret thing

To you alone.

MARCELLUS See with what a polite gesture

It directs you to a more secluded spot.

But do not follow it.

HORATIO No, definitely not.

HAMLET

It will not talk. Then I will follow it.

HORATIO

Do not, my lord.

HAMLET Why, what is there to fear?

I do not value life at one small pin.

And for my soul, what can it do to that,

Since it's as deathless as the ghost itself?

It waves me on again. I'll follow it.

HORATIO

What if it lures you to the water, sir?

Or to the scary summit of the cliff

That hangs far out above the crashing sea,

And there takes on some other awful shape

Which might destroy your sanity and mind

And drive you into madness? Think of it.

The place itself puts desperate, wild ideas,

Without more reason, into every brain

That looks so many miles down to the sea

And hears it roar below.

HAMLET

It waves me on still. Go on, I'll follow you.

MARCELLUS

You shall not go, my lord. They hold Hamlet back.

HAMLET Get your hands off me.

HORATIO

Be calm. You shall not go.

HAMLET My destiny calls out

And makes each tiny vessel in this frame

As strong as any mighty lion's nerve.

I'm called again. Let go of me, you men.

By God, I'll kill the man who blocks my way!

I say, get back! Go on. I'll follow you.

Ghost and Hamlet leave.

HORATIO

He's getting frantic with his wild thoughts.

MARCELLUS

Let's follow. We should not let him go.

HORATIO

Follow him. How will this story end?

MARCELLUS

Something is rotting in the Danish state.

HORATIO

Heaven will guide the way.

MARCELLUS No, let's follow him.

They leave.

Scene 5

Enter Ghost and Hamlet.

HAMLET

Where will you lead me? Speak. I’ll go no

further.

GHOST

Hear me.

HAMLET I will.

GHOST My time is nearly come

When I to sulfur and tormenting flames

Must give myself back up.

HAMLET Alas, poor ghost!

GHOST

Don’t pity me, but listen very well

To what I’ll now reveal.

HAMLET Speak. I am bound to listen.

GHOST

And you're bound for revenge, once you hear.

HAMLET What?

GHOST I am your father’s spirit,

Forced for a certain time to walk nights

And in the day confined to burn in fires

Until the crimes done in my living days

Are burnt and washed away. But I am banned

From telling secrets of my prison cell,

I could tell a story whose softest word

Would tear apart your soul, freeze your blood,

Make your two eyes, like stars, jump from sockets,

Your thick and tangled hair to fall apart,

And every single hair to stand on end,

Like spikes upon the frightened porcupine.

But this eternal news must not be told

To ears of flesh and blood. Listen, listen!

If you ever did love your dear father—

HAMLET Oh God!

GHOST

Avenge his foul and most unnatural murder.

HAMLET Murder?

GHOST

Murder most foul, as it always is,

But this most foul, strange, and unnatural.

HAMLET

Tell me fast, so that I with wings as swift

As meditation or the thoughts of love,

May fly to my revenge.

GHOST I find you ready;

And duller would you be than the thick weed

That grows in peace on the Lethe wharf,

If you didn't act. Now, Hamlet, listen.

It's said that while sleeping in my garden,

A snake bit me. So the whole of Denmark

Is by a fake story of my death

Grossly deceived. But know, you noble youth,

The snake that did take your father's life

Now wears his crown.

HAMLET Oh, my prophetic soul! My uncle!

GHOST

Yes, that incestuous, that cheating beast,

With magic of his wit, with traitorous gifts—

Oh wicked wit and gifts, that have power

To so seduce!—won to his shameful lust

The will of my once virtuous-seeming queen.

Oh Hamlet, what a tragic fall was that!

From me, whose love was of such dignity

That it went hand in hand even with the vow

I made to her in marriage, and to fall

Upon a loser whose natural gifts were poor

Compared to those of mine.

But virtue, as it never can be moved,

Though lust should court it in an angel's form,

So, lust, though to a radiant angel joined,

Will gorge itself in a heavenly bed

And feed on trash.

But wait, I think I smell the morning air.

Let me be brief. Sleeping in my garden,

My usual habit in the afternoon,

In my safe hour your uncle stole

With juice of cursed poison in a vial

And in the hollows of my ears did pour

The skin-rotting liquid, whose effect

Is such an enemy to human blood

That fast as liquid silver it runs through

The natural gates and paths of the body,

And with a sudden power it does curdle

Like acid drops that fall into the milk,

The thin and healthy blood. So it did mine,

And a most sudden rash broke out all over,

Like leprosy, with vile and loathsome crust

All my smooth body.

Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother’s hand

Of life, crown, and queen all at once robbed,

Cut off, even in the bloom of my sins,

Unblessed, unprepared, unanointed,

No confession made, sent to my judgment

With all my sins upon my head.

Oh horrible, oh horrible, most horrible!

If you have any feeling, don't allow it.

Do not let Denmark’s royal bed become

A bed for lust and damned incest.

But, however you go about this act,

Don’t stain your mind, nor let your soul plot

Against your mother. Leave her to heaven

And to those thorns that in her heart stay

To prick and sting her. Goodbye for now.

The glowworm shows the morning to be near

And starts to fade his tiny little light.

Farewell, farewell, farewell. Remember me.

He exits.

HAMLET

Oh all you heavenly hosts! Oh Earth! What else?

And should I include hell? Oh no! Hold, my heart,

And you, my muscles, do not grow old,

But hold me firmly up. Remember you?

Yes, you poor ghost, while memory has a place

In this crazy head. Remember you?

Yes, from the tablet of my memory

I’ll wipe away all silly, trivial notes,

All book quotes, all shapes, all past impressions,

That youth and observation wrote in there,

And your command alone shall always live

Within the book and volume of my brain,

Unmixed with cheaper stuff. Yes, by heaven!

Oh most destructive woman!

Oh villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!

My notepad—it is right I write it down

That one can smile and smile and be a villain.

At least I’m sure it can be in Denmark.

He writes.

So, uncle, there you go. Now for my word.

It is “farewell, farewell, remember me.”

I have sworn it.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

HORATIO My lord, my lord!

MARCELLUS Lord Hamlet.

HORATIO Heaven keep him safe!

HAMLET Amen to that.

MARCELLUS Hello, ho, ho, my lord!

HAMLET Hey there, boy! Come on, bird, come here!

MARCELLUS

How are you, my noble lord?

HORATIO What news, my lord?

HAMLET Oh, wonderful!

HORATIO

My good lord, tell us.

HAMLET No, you will reveal it.

HORATIO

Not I, my lord, I swear.

MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord.

HAMLET

What do you think? Would anyone believe it?

But you will keep it secret?

HORATIO/MARCELLUS Yes, we swear, my lord.

HAMLET

There isn't any villain in all Denmark

Who isn't just a total, complete jerk.

HORATIO

We don't need a ghost back from death

To tell us that.

HAMLET Well, right, you are quite right.

And so, without any more fuss at all,

I think it's best we shake hands now,

You, where your work and your wishes lead,

(Since every man has work and goals to reach,

Whatever they are), and as for myself,

I'll go and pray.

HORATIO

These are just wild and crazy words, lord.

HAMLET

I'm sorry that they bother you so much;

Yes, truly, so much.

HORATIO There's no offense, my lord.

HAMLET

Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,

And huge offense, too. About this ghost here,

It is a truthful ghost—let me say that.

As for your wish to know our talk,

Control it as you can. Now, good friends,

Since you are friends, students, and soldiers,

Grant me one small request.

HORATIO What is it, lord? We will.

HAMLET

Never reveal what you have seen tonight.

HORATIO/MARCELLUS My lord, we will not.

HAMLET No, you must swear it.

HORATIO Honestly, my lord, not I.

MARCELLUS Nor I, my lord, honestly.

HAMLET

Swear on my sword.

MARCELLUS We have already sworn, my lord.

HAMLET Truly, swear on my sword, truly.

GHOST (under stage) Swear.

HAMLET

Ha, ha, boy, you say so? There, honest ghost?

Come on, you hear this guy in the basement.

Agree to swear.

HORATIO Tell us the oath, lord.

HAMLET

Never to speak of what you saw today,

Swear on my sword.

GHOST (beneath) Swear.

HAMLET

Here and everywhere? Let's move our spot.

Come over here, you men,

And put your hands back on my sword.

Swear on my sword

Never to speak of what you just heard.

GHOST (beneath) Swear on his sword.

HAMLET

Well said, old mole. Can you dig that fast?

A great digger! Move once more, good friends.

HORATIO

Oh day and night, this is incredibly strange.

HAMLET

So treat it like a guest and welcome it.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than your science could ever dream of. But come.

Swear here again, as God is your witness,

No matter how strangely I act from now on

(Since I might think it's proper after this

To act like I have lost my mind)

That you, seeing me then, will never once,

With folded arms like this, or a headshake,

Or by saying some vague and tricky phrase,

Like "Well, we know," or "We could if we wanted,"

Or "If we chose to speak," or "If they could,"

Or any such hints, to let others know

That you know my secrets—swear to this,

So help you God when you need it most.

GHOST (beneath) Swear.

HAMLET

Rest, rest, troubled ghost.—So, my dear friends,

I give all my love and respect to you,

And whatever a poor man like Hamlet

Can do to show his love and friendship,

God willing, you'll have it. Let's go inside,

And keep your fingers on your lips, please.

The world is out of sync. Oh, cursed plight,

That I was born to have to set it right!

No, come, let us leave together.

Act 2

Scene 1

POLONIUS

Give him this cash and these reports, Reynaldo.

REYNALDO

I will, my lord.

POLONIUS

You’ll act most wisely, my good man Reynaldo,

Before you visit him, to ask around

About his habits.

REYNALDO

My lord, I meant to.

POLONIUS

Indeed, well said, yes, very well. Look, sir,

Find out first which Danes are in Paris;

And how, and who, what funds, and where they stay,

What friends they have, their costs; and finding

Through this indirect and clever flow of talk

That they do know my son, then step much closer

Than your specific questions would ever have reached.

Pretend you have a passing knowledge of him,

Like so: “I know his dad, and all his friends

And, somewhat, him.” Do you follow, Reynaldo?

REYNALDO

Yes, very well, my lord.

POLONIUS

“And, somewhat, him, but,” you might say, “not well.

But if it’s who I mean, he’s very wild,

Given to such and such.” Then blame on him

Whatever lies you like—though none so bad

That they dishonor him, be careful there,

But, sir, those reckless, wild, and common slips

That are well-known to go along with things

Like youth and liberty.

REYNALDO

Like gambling, my lord.

POLONIUS

Yes, or drinking, fighting, swearing,

Arguing, whoring—you can go that far.

REYNALDO

My lord, that would shame his name.

POLONIUS

No, not if you flavor it in your talk.

You shouldn't claim he has a deeper vice,

That he is prone to constant lust;

That isn't what I mean. Just whisper faults

skillfully

To make them seem like stains of freedom,

The sparks and bursts of a wild mind,

A wildness in untamed blood,

Which strikes us all.

REYNALDO

But, my good lord—

POLONIUS

Why should we do this?

REYNALDO

Yes, my lord, I’d like to know.

POLONIUS

Look, sir, here is my plan,

And I believe it is a clever trick.

When you put these light stains on my son,

Like something slightly soiled while it was made,

Note this, the person you are talking with,

ask,

Having ever seen the boy do the mentioned crimes

Of which you speak, be very sure of this:

He’ll agree with you in this manner:

“Good sir,” or so, or “friend,” or “gentleman,”

Based on the title or the formal rank

Of man and nation—

REYNALDO

Very good, my lord.

POLONIUS

And then, sir, he does this—he does—what

was I going to say? I swear, I was saying

something. Where did I leave off?

REYNALDO

At “agreeing in the end,” at “friend,

or so,” and “gentleman.”

POLONIUS

At “agreeing in the end”—yes, indeed—

He agrees thus: “I know the gentleman.

I saw him yesterday,” or “the other day”

(Or then, or then, with this or that), “and as you

say,

There he was gambling, there drunk in his cup,

There fighting over tennis”; or perhaps

“I saw him enter such a house of sale”—

Specifically, a brothel—and so forth. See now

How your bait of lies catches the fish of truth;

And this is how we men of reach and wit,

With indirect paths and with clever trials,

Through devious ways we find the truth.

So by my previous talk and advice

You'll track my son. You get me, do you not?

REYNALDO

My lord, I do.

POLONIUS

Goodbye to you. I wish you well.

REYNALDO

Fine, my lord.

POLONIUS

See how he acts for yourself.

REYNALDO

I will, my lord.

POLONIUS

And let him do his own thing.

REYNALDO

Okay, my lord.

POLONIUS

Goodbye. Hey there, Ophelia, what is the matter?

OPHELIA

Oh, my lord, my lord, I’ve been so scared!

POLONIUS

With what, in the name of God?

OPHELIA

My lord, as I was sewing in my room,

Lord Hamlet, with his jacket all undone,

No hat upon his head, his socks were dirty,

Unfastened, falling down to his ankles,

Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking together,

And with a look so pitiful in meaning

As if he had been let out of hell

To tell of horrors—he stood before me.

POLONIUS

Mad for your love?

OPHELIA

My lord, I do not know,

But truly I do fear it.

POLONIUS

What did he say?

OPHELIA

He grabbed my wrist and held me very hard.

Then he backed away to his arm's length,

And, with his other hand across his brow,

He starts to study my face so closely

As if to draw it. He remained that way long.

At last, with just a shaking of my arm,

And nodding three times slowly up and down,

He let out such a sad and deep-felt sigh

As if it meant to shatter his whole frame

And end his life. Then, he let me go,

And, with his head turned back over his shoulder,

He seemed to find his way without his eyes,

For out the door he went without their help

And to the last kept his eyes on me.

POLONIUS

Come, go with me. I'll go find the King.

This is the very madness of his love,

Whose violent nature ruins its own self

And leads the mind to desperate actions now

As much as any passion under heaven

That hurts our human nature. I am sorry.

What, have you said any harsh words lately?

OPHELIA

No, my good lord, but as you told me,

I sent back all his letters and denied

Him access to me.

POLONIUS

That has made him mad.

I’m sorry that with better care and thought

I hadn't watched him. I feared he just flirted

And meant to ruin you. Curse my suspicion!

By God, it is as normal for old men

To overthink things in our own opinions

As it is common for the younger crowd

To lack good sense. Come, let’s see the King.

This must be told; if kept secret, it might bring

More grief than telling of this love to the King.

Come.

Scene 2

KING

Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Beyond the fact we longed to see you both,

The need for your assistance did provoke

Our quick request. You surely must have heard

Of Hamlet’s change, if we may call it that,

Since neither how he looks nor how he feels

Is how it was. What could this truly be,

Beyond his father’s death, that's pushed him so

Away from any knowledge of himself

I can't imagine. I ask you both now,

Since you were raised with him from early days

And were so close to how he lived and grew,

That you will agree to stay here at our court

For some short time, so by your being here

To draw him back to fun, and to collect

As much as from the moment you can learn,

[If something we don't know is hurting him]

Which, once revealed, we might then cure.

QUEEN

Good men, he has talked about you much,

And I am sure no other two men live

To whom he’s more attached. If you would please

To show us so much kindness and goodwill

As to spend your time with us a while

To help us and to benefit our hope,

Your visit here shall get such gratitude

As fits a king’s great memory.

ROSENCRANTZ

Both of your Majesties

Could, by the royal power you have over us,

Turn your high wishes more into a command

Rather than a plea.

GUILDENSTERN

But we both will obey,

And give ourselves here with a full intent

To lay our service freely at your feet,

To be ordered now.

KING

Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.

QUEEN

Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz.

And I beg you right away to visit

My very changed son.—Go, some of you,

And take these gentlemen to where Hamlet stays.

GUILDENSTERN

May Heaven make our presence and our deeds

Helpful and kind to him!

QUEEN

Yes, amen!

POLONIUS

The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord,

Have come back happily.

KING

You’ve always been the source of happy news.

POLONIUS

Have I, my lord? I promise my good king

I value duty as I do my soul,

Both to my God and to my noble king,

And I do think, or else this brain of mine

Does not track the path of politics so well

As it once used to do, that I have found

The very cause of Hamlet’s madness now.

KING

Oh, speak of that! I long to hear that.

POLONIUS

Let the ambassadors come in first now.

My news will be dessert for that great feast.

KING

You welcome them yourself and bring them in.

He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he has found

The main root of your son’s inner sickness.

QUEEN

I suspect it's nothing but the main source—

His father’s death and our too quick marriage.

KING

Well, we shall question him.

Welcome, my good friends.

Say, Voltemand, what news from brother Norway?

VOLTEMAND

A fair return of greetings and good wishes.

At our first word, he sent to stop

His nephew’s drafting, which to him appeared

To be a plan against the Polish king,

But, studiying it better, he truly did find

It was against your Highness. So, upset

That his own illness, age, and weakness now

Were taken advantage of, he sends arrests

For Fortinbras, who quickly obeyed,

Was scolded by old Norway, and, at last,

Swore to his uncle he will never more

Bring any war onto your palace door.

At which old Norway, overcome with joy,

Gives sixty thousand crowns as yearly pay

And his permission to use those same troops,

Raised just as before, against the Polish,

With a request, shown further in this note,

That it might please you to grant quiet pass

Through your own lands for this new enterprise,

With such regards for safety and permission

As are written right here.

As written in the notes.

KING

I like it well,

And when we have more time, we’ll read it through,

Reply and think about this business too.

We thank you for your very well-done work.

Go rest. Tonight we’ll eat a feast together.

Welcome back home!

POLONIUS

This business is finished well.

My king and queen, to explain at length

What greatness is, what duty is for us,

Why day is day, night night, and time is time.

It is nothing but to waste night, day, and time.

So, since being brief is the soul of wit,

And boredom is just outward show and fluff,

I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.

"Mad" I call it, for, to define madness,

What is it but to be just simply mad?

But let that go.

QUEEN

More facts with less style.

POLONIUS

Madam, I swear I use no style at all.

That he is mad is true; it's true, it's sad,

And pity is it's true—a foolish phrase,

But goodbye to it, I will use no style.

Let's agree he's mad then, and now it remains

That we find out the cause of this result,

Or, rather say, the cause of this defect,

For this bad effect comes from a cause.

So it remains, and what is left is this:

Consider.

I have a girl (have while she is mine)

Who, in her duty and obedience, note,

Gave me this. Now listen and guess.

To the heavenly, and my soul's idol, the

most beautified Ophelia—

That's a bad phrase, a gross phrase; "beautified" is a

gross phrase. But you shall hear. This:

To her excellent white breast, these, etc.—

QUEEN

Did Hamlet send this to her?

POLONIUS

Good madam, wait. I will be honest.

Doubt if the stars are fire,

Doubt that the sun does move,

Doubt truth to be a liar,

But never doubt my love.

O dear Ophelia, I am bad at these rhymes. I have no

skill to count my groans, but I love you best, Oh

very best, believe it. Goodbye.

Yours forever, most dear lady, while

this body is his, Hamlet.

This, in obedience, has my daughter shown me,

And furthermore, he has made moves,

As they happened in time, way, and place,

All told into my ear.

KING

But how has she accepted his love?

POLONIUS

What do you think of me?

KING

As a man loyal and honorable.

POLONIUS

I’d like to prove so. But what would you think,

When I had seen this hot love taking flight

(As I noticed it, I must tell you that,

Before my daughter told me), what might you,

Or my dear Majesty your queen here, think,

If I had played the desk or notebook

Or given my heart a wink, kept silent,

Or looked upon this love with lazy sight?

What would you think? No, I went to work,

And to my young girl I said this:

“Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of your league.

This cannot be.” And then I gave her rules,

That she should lock herself from his visits,

Accept no messengers, take no gifts;

Which done, she took the fruits of my advice,

And he, rejected (to make a short tale),

Fell into sadness, then into a fast,

Then into sleeplessness, then into weakness,

Then into dizziness, by this decline,

Into the madness where he now raves

And we all mourn for.

KING

Do you think it’s this?

QUEEN

It might be, very likely.

POLONIUS

Has there been such a time (I’d like to know)

That I have firmly stated, “It is so,”

When it turned out different?

KING

Not that I know.

POLONIUS

Cut head from neck, if I am wrong today.

If clues lead me, I'll surely find the way

To where the truth is hidden, though deep-laid,

Inside the center.

KING

How can we test this more?

POLONIUS

You know he often walks four hours straight

Here in the lobby.

QUEEN

Yes, he truly does.

POLONIUS

Then I will send my daughter out to him.

Let you and I hide behind curtains then.

Watch the meeting. If he loves her not,

And hasn't lost his mind because of it,

Let me no longer serve this royal state,

But run a farm with workers.

KING

We will test it.

QUEEN

But look, the poor soul comes here reading now.

POLONIUS

Please leave, I beg you both, please go.

I’ll speak to him now. Oh, leave us.

How are you, my good Lord Hamlet?

HAMLET

Well, God have mercy.

POLONIUS

Do you know me, my lord?

HAMLET

Very well. You are a fish seller.

POLONIUS

Not I, my lord.

HAMLET

Then I wish you were an honest man.

POLONIUS

Honest, my lord?

HAMLET

Yes, sir. To be honest, as things go now, is to

be one man picked out of ten thousand.

POLONIUS

That is very true, my lord.

HAMLET

For if the sun breeds maggots in a dead

dog, touching rotting flesh—Do you have a

daughter?

POLONIUS

I do, my lord.

HAMLET

Don't let her walk in the sun. Pregnancy is a

blessing, but if your daughter conceives,

friend, watch out for it.

POLONIUS

What do you mean by that? Still talking about

my daughter. Yet he didn't know me first; he said I

was a fish seller. He's far gone. And truly, in my

youth, I suffered much for love, very near

this. I'll speak to him again.—What are you reading, my

lord?

HAMLET

Words, words, words.

POLONIUS

What is the subject, my lord?

HAMLET

Between whom?

POLONIUS

I mean the content you read, my lord.

HAMLET

Lies, sir; for the mocking jerk says here

that old men have gray beards, their faces are

wrinkled, their eyes leaking thick yellow goop

and crusty gunk, and that they have a total

lack of brains, along with very weak legs;

all which, sir, though I strongly do believe,

yet I think it's mean to write it down;

for you, sir, will get old like me,

if, like a crab, you could walk backward.

POLONIUS

Though this is madness, there is logic in

it.—Will you step out of the draft, my lord?

HAMLET

Into my grave?

POLONIUS

Truly, that is out of the air. How

meaningful his replies are sometimes! A luck

that madness often finds, which logic and

sanity could not so successfully produce. I

will leave him and quickly arrange a way for

him to meet my daughter.—My lord,

I will say goodbye to you.

HAMLET

You cannot, sir, take anything from me I’d

rather give away—except my life,

except my life, except my life.

POLONIUS

Take care, my lord.

HAMLET

These boring old fools.

POLONIUS

You go to find the Lord Hamlet. There he is.

ROSENCRANTZ

God bless you, sir.

GUILDENSTERN

My honored lord.

ROSENCRANTZ

My very dear lord.

HAMLET My excellent good friends! How are you,

Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good boys, how do

you both?

ROSENCRANTZ

Like the average children of the earth.

GUILDENSTERN

Happy because we are not over-happy.

On Fortune’s hat, we aren't the top button.

HAMLET Nor the soles of her shoe?

ROSENCRANTZ Neither, my lord.

HAMLET Then you live around her waist, or in the

middle of her favors?

GUILDENSTERN Truth, we are her private parts.

HAMLET In Fortune's secret parts? Oh, very true!

She is a slut. What’s the news?

ROSENCRANTZ None, my lord, except that the world’s

grown honest.

HAMLET Then judgment day is near. But your news is not

true. Let me ask more specifically. What

have you, my good friends, done to the hands of

Fortune that she sends you to prison here?

GUILDENSTERN Prison, my lord?

HAMLET Denmark is a prison.

ROSENCRANTZ Then the world is one.

HAMLET A big one, in which there are many cells,

wards, and dungeons, Denmark being one of

the worst.

ROSENCRANTZ We don't think so, my lord.

HAMLET Well, then, it's none to you, for there is

nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it

so. To me, it is a jail.

ROSENCRANTZ Well, then, your ambition makes it one.

It is too narrow for your mind.

HAMLET Oh God, I could be trapped in a nutshell and

count myself a king of endless space, if not

that I have bad dreams.

GUILDENSTERN Those dreams, truly, are ambition,

for the very essence of the ambitious is merely

the shadow of a dream.

HAMLET A dream itself is just a shadow.

ROSENCRANTZ Truly, and I think ambition's of such airy

and light a quality that it's but a shadow’s shadow.

HAMLET Then beggars are real bodies, and our kings

and famous heroes are the beggars’ shadows.

Shall we go to court? For, by my faith, I can't

think straight.

ROSENCRANTZ/GUILDENSTERN We will serve you.

HAMLET Not at all. I will not group you with the

rest of my servants, for, to speak like an

honest man, I’m terribly served. But,

as old friends, what are you doing at

Elsinore?

ROSENCRANTZ To visit you, my lord, no other reason.

HAMLET Beggar that I am, I'm even poor in thanks;

but I thank you, and surely, dear friends, my thanks

aren't worth a penny. Were you not sent for?

Is this your own idea? Is it a free visit?

Come, come, be fair with me. Come, come; no,

speak.

GUILDENSTERN What should we say, my lord?

HAMLET Anything that's off the point. You were sent

for, and there is a kind of guilt in your looks

which your honesty doesn't have the skill to

hide. I know the good king and queen sent for

you.

ROSENCRANTZ For what reason, my lord?

HAMLET That you must tell me. But let me urge

you by the rights of our friendship, by the bond

of our youth, by the duty of our long-lasting

love, and by whatever else a better

speaker could ask you: be honest and direct

with me if you were sent for or not.

ROSENCRANTZ What do you say?

HAMLET No, then, I'll watch you now.—If

you love me, don't hold back.

GUILDENSTERN My lord, we were sent for.

HAMLET I'll tell you why; that way my guessing

stops your confession, and your secret for the

King and Queen stays intact. Lately, I have, but

why I don't know, lost all my joy, quit all

habit of exercise, and, truly, it feels so heavy

in my spirit that this beautiful world, the

Earth, feels to me a barren cliff; this most

amazing ceiling, the air, look, this grand overhanging

sky, this majestic roof, decorated

with golden fire—well, it seems like nothing to me

but a gross and diseased collection of smog.

What a masterpiece is a man, how noble in

logic, how infinite in skills, in shape and moving

how clear and wonderful; in action how like

an angel, in understanding how like a god: the

beauty of the world, the model of animals—and

yet, to me, what is this essence of dust? Man

pleases me not, no, nor women neither, though by

your smiling you seem to say so..

ROSENCRANTZ

My lord, I had no such thoughts in my mind.

HAMLET

Why did you laugh, then, when I said "man brings no joy"?

ROSENCRANTZ

To think, my lord, if you find no joy in man, what a poor welcome the actors

will get from you. We passed them on the road, and they're coming to serve you.

HAMLET

The one who plays the king is welcome—his Majesty will get his due from me.

The daring knight shall use his sword and shield, the lover won't sigh for free,

the funny man shall finish his part in peace, the clown will make those laugh

whose lungs are on a hair-trigger, and the lady shall speak her mind freely,

or the blank verse shall fail for it. What actors are they?

ROSENCRANTZ

The very ones you used to enjoy so much, the performers from the city.

HAMLET

Why are they traveling? Staying put was better for their fame and their cash.

ROSENCRANTZ

I think they were pushed out because of the recent changes in town.

HAMLET

Are they still as highly respected as when I was in the city? Are they popular?

ROSENCRANTZ

No, they certainly are not.

HAMLET

Why is that? Are they getting rusty?

ROSENCRANTZ

No, they work as hard as they always have. But there is, sir, a nest of kids,

little hawks, who shout at the top of their lungs and get huge applause for it.

These are now the fashion and they bash the regular stages so much

that men with swords are afraid of pens and hardly dare to go there.

HAMLET

What, are they just kids? Who pays for them? How are they supported?

Will they only act until their voices change? Won't they say later on,

if they grow up to be regular actors (which is likely, if they have no money),

that their writers did them wrong to make them attack their own future careers?

ROSENCRANTZ

Honestly, there’s been a lot of fuss on both sides; people love the drama.

For a while, nobody would pay for a play unless the writer and the actor

actually got into a physical fight about the plot.

HAMLET

Is that possible?

GUILDENSTERN

Oh, there has been a great deal of intellectual combat.

HAMLET

Are the boys winning the war?

ROSENCRANTZ

Yes, they are, my lord—they've even taken the whole world on their backs.

HAMLET

It’s not that weird; for my uncle is King, and those who made faces at him

while my father lived now pay twenty, fifty, a hundred gold coins for his portrait.

By God, there is something supernatural here, if science could only figure it out.

GUILDENSTERN

The actors are here.

HAMLET

Gentlemen, welcome to Elsinore. Give me your hands. The proper way to welcome

is with style and ritual. Let me greet you formally in this way,

so that my warm welcome to the actors, which must look good on the outside,

doesn't seem more friendly than my welcome to you. You're welcome.

But my uncle-dad and my aunt-mom are mistaken.

GUILDENSTERN

About what, my dear lord?

HAMLET

I'm only mad when winds are from the north.

When south winds blow, I know a hawk from a tool.

POLONIUS

I wish you well, gentlemen.

HAMLET

Listen, Guildenstern, and you too—one of you for each ear!

That big baby you see over there isn't even out of his diapers yet.

ROSENCRANTZ

Maybe he's back in them again, for they say an old man is a child twice.

HAMLET

I bet he’s coming to tell me about the actors; watch.—You’re right, sir,

Monday morning, that was the time indeed.

POLONIUS

My lord, I have news for you.

HAMLET

My lord, I have news for you: when Roscius was an actor in Rome—

POLONIUS

The actors have arrived here, my lord.

HAMLET

Blah, blah.

POLONIUS

On my honor—

HAMLET

Then every actor came on his donkey.

POLONIUS

The best actors in the world, whether for tragedy, comedy, history,

pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical,

tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, specific scenes, or

free-form poems. Seneca's not too deep, nor Plautus light.

Whether following scripts or improvising, these are the only men.

HAMLET

Oh Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure you had!

POLONIUS

What treasure did he have, my lord?

HAMLET

Well,

"One pretty daughter, and no more,

Whom he did love and much adore."

POLONIUS

Still talking about my daughter.

HAMLET

Am I not right, old Jephthah?

POLONIUS

If you're calling me "Jephthah," my lord: I have a daughter

whom I love very, very well.

HAMLET

No, that doesn't follow.

POLONIUS

What comes next then, my lord?

HAMLET

Well,

"As by chance, God knows,"

and then, you know,

"It happened, as it likely was"—

the first verse of the holy song will show you

more, for look, here come the ones who cut me short.

Enter the Players.

HAMLET

Welcome, masters; welcome everyone.—I am glad

to see you well.—Welcome, good friends.—Oh my

old friend! Your face is bearded since I saw you

last. Do you come to defy me in Denmark?—Wait,

my young lady and mistress! By the Virgin, you

are closer to heaven than when I saw you last, by

the height of a platform shoe. I hope your voice, like a

bad gold coin, is not cracked through its metal

ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We will start

like French hunters, chasing everything we see. We will

hear a speech right now. Come, show us some of your

skill. Come, a speech full of passion.

FIRST PLAYER

Which speech, my good lord?

HAMLET

I heard you give a speech once, but it

was never performed, or, maybe once; for

the play, I recall, did not please the public:

it was too fancy for the crowd. But it was (as I

heard it, and others whose tastes in such

things were better than mine) a great play,

with well-ordered scenes, written with as much

restraint as skill. I remember someone said there

were no spicy jokes in the lines to make them

tasty, nor any words that might prove

the author was being fake, but called it a true

style, as healthy as it was sweet and, truly,

more elegant than flashy. One speech in it I

quite loved. It was Aeneas’ story to Dido,

and specifically the part where he tells of

Priam’s murder. If you remember it, start at

this line—let me see, let me see:

The rough Pyrrhus, like the Caspian tiger—

no, that's not it; it starts with Pyrrhus:

The rough Pyrrhus, he whose jet-black armor,

Dark as his goal, was like the night itself

When he hid inside that deadly wooden horse,

Has now smeared this scary, black appearance

With even darker signs. From head to foot,

He is now bright red, horribly decorated

With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,

Dried and caked on by the burning streets,

Which provide a cruel and cursed light

To their king's murder. Burning with rage and fire,

And thus coated thick with clotted blood,

With eyes like glowing coals, the hellish Pyrrhus

Seeks out old grandpa Priam.

Now, you continue.

POLONIUS

By God, my lord, well said, with good

delivery and good judgment.

FIRST PLAYER

Soon he finds him

Swinging too weakly at Greeks. His old sword,

Defying his arm, lies right where it falls,

Refusing to obey. Not a fair fight,

Pyrrhus lunges at Priam, in rage he misses;

But from the mere breeze of his cruel blade

The weakened father falls. Then unfeeling Troy,

As if feeling this blow, with its burning top

Collapses to its base, and with a loud crash

Stops Pyrrhus in his tracks. For look, his sword,

Which was falling on the white-haired head

Of holy Priam, seemed to freeze in mid-air.

Like a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus just stood there

And, like a man stuck between will and deed,

Did nothing.

But as we often see before a storm

A silence in the sky, the clouds stay still,

The fierce winds silent, and the earth below

As quiet as death, soon the scary thunder

Rips through the air; so, after Pyrrhus’ pause,

Woken-up revenge sets him back to work,

And never did the giants' hammers fall

On the god's armor, built to last forever,

With less mercy than Pyrrhus’ bloody sword

Now falls on Priam.

Out, out, you slut Fortune! All you gods

In a big meeting take away her power,

Break all the parts and rims from her wheel,

And roll the center hub down heaven's hill

As low as to the devils!

POLONIUS

This is taking too long.

HAMLET

It will go to the barber's with your beard.—

Please keep going. He wants a dance or a dirty story, or

he sleeps. Go on; get to Hecuba.

FIRST PLAYER

But who, oh sadness, had seen the muffled queen—

HAMLET

"The muffled queen"?

POLONIUS

That is good. "Muffled queen" is good.

POLONIUS

That's good. "The muffled queen" is good.

FIRST PLAYER

Run barefoot up and down, cursing the fire

With blinding tears, a rag upon that head

Where lately the crown sat, and for a robe,

Around her thin and very worn-out hips

A blanket, grabbed in a panic of fear—

Anyone seeing this, with a bitter tongue,

Would have cursed Fate for such a cruel crime.

But if the gods themselves had seen her then

When she saw Pyrrhus making cruel fun

By slicing with his sword her husband's limbs,

The sudden loud scream that she let out

(Unless human things don't move them at all)

Would have brought tears to the eyes of heaven

And pity in the gods.

POLONIUS

See if he hasn't turned pale and

has tears in his eyes. Please, no more.

HAMLET

That's fine. I'll have you say the rest

of this soon.—My lord, will you see them

settled in? Listen, let them be well treated,

for they are the short and quick records of

the time. After you die, a bad obituary

is better than their bad reviews while alive.

POLONIUS

My lord, I'll treat them as they deserve.

HAMLET

By God, man, much better! Treat every

man as he deserves and who would miss

a beating? Treat them with your own honor

and worth. The less they earn, the more

generous you are. Take them in.

POLONIUS

Come, gentlemen.

HAMLET

Follow him, friends. We'll hear a play

tomorrow. Do you hear me, old friend? Can

you act in "The Murder of Gonzago"?

FIRST PLAYER

Yes, my lord.

HAMLET

We'll have it tomorrow night. Could you, if

needed, learn a speech of maybe twelve or

sixteen lines, which I'd write and add in,

could you do that?

FIRST PLAYER

Yes, my lord.

HAMLET

Great. Follow that man—and make sure you

don't tease him. My good friends,

I'll leave you until tonight. Welcome to Elsinore.

ROSENCRANTZ

Fine, my lord.

HAMLET

Yes, okay, goodbye to you.

Now I am all alone.

Oh, what a low and pathetic slave am I!

Isn't it crazy that this actor here,

Just in a story, in a fake feeling,

Could push his soul so to his own idea

That by its power his whole face grew pale,

Tears in his eyes, panic in his look,

A cracking voice, and his entire body acting

In ways that fit his role—all for nothing!

For Hecuba!

What is she to him, or he to her,

That he should cry for her? What would he do

If he had the reason and the trigger

That I have? He'd flood the stage with tears

And split the public ear with awful words,

Drive guilty men mad and shock the innocent,

Confuse the clueless and truly amaze

The very powers of sight and sound. Yet I,

A boring and spineless jerk, mope around

Like a lazy dreamer, empty of my purpose,

And can say nothing—not even for a king

Whose kingdom and whose very precious life

Were taken by a devil. Am I a coward?

Who calls me "scumbag"? Smacks me in the head?

Pulls out my beard and blows it in my face?

Pinches my nose? Calls me a liar to my face?

Right to my lungs? Who does this to me?

Ha! God, I would take it! For it must be

That I am a coward and lack the guts

To make injustice hurt, or before now

I would have fed all the local crows

With this slave's guts. Bloody, gross villain!

Heartless, lying, horny, and unnatural

scumbag!

Oh, revenge!

Why, what an idiot am I! This is brave,

That I, the son of a dear murdered dad,

Urged to my revenge by heaven and hell,

Must, like a whore, vent my heart with words

And start cursing like a common street trash,

A male whore! Damn it! Gross!

Get to work, brain!—Hmm, I've heard

That guilty people sitting at a play

Have, by the cleverness of the scene,

Been hit so in the soul that instantly

They have confessed their evil crimes;

For murder, though it has no tongue, will speak

In a miraculous way. I'll have these actors

Act something like the murder of my dad

In front of my uncle. I'll watch him;

I'll probe his soul. If he even flinches,

I know what to do. The ghost I saw

Might be a demon, and the demon has power

To take a nice shape; yes, and maybe,

Out of my weakness and my sadness now,

Since he is very strong with moods like this,

Tricks me to damn me. I'll need proof

More solid than this. The play's the thing

To catch the conscience of the King.