Hamlet
_Pol._ What follows, then, my lord?
_Ham._ Why, _As by lot, God wot_,[51] and then, you know, _It came to
pass, As most like it was_,--The first row of the pious Chanson[52]
will show you more; for look, my abridgment comes.[53]
_Enter Four or Five_ Players (L.H.)--POLONIUS _crosses behind_
HAMLET _to_ R.H.
You are welcome, masters; welcome, all: O, old friend! Why, thy face
is valanced[54] since I saw thee last; Com'st thou to beard me[55] in
Denmark?--What, my young lady and mistress. By-'r-lady, your ladyship
is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the altitude of a
chopine.[56] You are welcome. We'll e'en to't like French
falconers,[57] fly at anything we see: We'll have a speech straight:
Come, give us a taste of your quality;[58] come, a passionate speech.
_1st Play._ (L.H.) What speech, my lord?
_Ham._ I heard thee speak me a speech once,--but it was never acted;
or, if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleased not
the million; 'twas caviare to the general:[59] but it was an
excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much
modesty as cunning.[60] One speech in it I chiefly loved; 'twas
Æneas' tale to Dido; and thereabout of it especially, where he speaks
of Priam's slaughter: If it live in your memory, begin at this line;
let me see, let me see;--
_The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast_,--'tis not so: it
begins with Pyrrhus:
_The rugged Pyrrhus,--he, whose sable arms_,
_Black as his purpose, did the night resemble_,
_Old grandsire Priam seeks._
_Pol._ (R.) 'Fore Heaven, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and
good discretion.
_Ham._ (C.) So proceed you.
_1st Play._ (L.) _Anon he finds him
Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword,
Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
Repugnant to command: Unequal match'd,
Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide;
But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword[61]
The unnerved father falls.
But, as we often see, against some storm,
A silence in the heavens, the rack[62] stand still,
The bold wind speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death; anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region; So, after Pyrrhus' pause,
A roused vengeance sets him new a work;
And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall
On Mars's armour, forg'd for proof eterne,
With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword
Now falls on Priam.--
Out, out, thou fickle Fortune!_
_Pol._ (R.) This is too long.
_Ham._ It shall to the barber's, with your beard.--Say on;--come to
Hecuba.
_1st Play._ _But who, ah woe, had seen the mobled queen_--
_Ham._ The mobled queen?[63]
_Pol._ That's good; mobled queen is good.
_1st Play._ _Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames;
A clout upon that head
Where late the diadem stood; and, for a robe,
A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd,
'Gainst fortune's state would treason have pronounced._
_Pol._ Look, whether he has not turned his colour, and has tears in's
eyes.--Prithee, no more.
_Ham._ (C.) 'Tis well; I'll have thee speak out the rest of this
soon.--Good, my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you
hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstract and brief
chronicles of the time: After your death you were better have a bad
epitaph than their ill report while you live.
_Pol._ (R.) My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
_Ham._ Much better: Use every man after his desert, and who shall
'scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity: The less
they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
[_Crosses to_ R.H.]
_Pol._ Come, sirs.
_Ham._ Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow.
[_Exit_ POLONIUS _with some of the_ Players, L.H.]
Old friend
[_Crosses to_ C.]
--My good friends
[_To_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN.]
I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore--can you play
the murder of Gonzago?
[_Exeunt_ ROSENCRANTZ _and_ GUILDENSTERN, R.H.]
_1st Play._ Ay, my lord.
_Ham._ We'll have it to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a
speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would insert
in't--could you not?
_1st Play._ Ay, my lord.
_Ham._ Very well.--Follow that lord; and look you mock him not.
[_Exit_ Player, L.H.]
Now I am alone.
O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!
Is it not monstrous, that this player here,
But in a fiction, in a dream of passion,
Could force his soul so to his own conceit,
That, from her working, all his visage wann'd;[64]
Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,
A broken voice, and his whole function suiting
With forms to his conceit?[65] And all for nothing!
For Hecuba?
What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba,
That he should weep for her? What would he do,
Had he the motive and the cue[66] for passion
That I have? He would drown the stage with tears,
And cleave the general ear with horrid speech;
Make mad the guilty, and appal the free;
Confound the ignorant, and amaze, indeed,
The very faculties of eyes and ears.
Yet I,
A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,
Like John a-dreams,[67] unpregnant of my cause,[68]
And can say nothing; no, not for a king,
Upon whose property and most dear life
A damn'd defeat was made.[69] Am I a coward?
Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across?
Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face?
Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i'the throat,
As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this,
Ha?
Why, I should take it: for it cannot be
But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall
To make oppression bitter;[70] or, ere this,
I should have fatted all the region kites
With this slave's offal: Bloody, bawdy villain!
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless[71] villain!
O, vengeance!
Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave,
That I, the son of a dear father murder'd,
Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell,
Must, like a scold, unpack my heart with words,
And fall a cursing, like a very drab,
A scullion!
Fye upon't! fye! About, my brains![72] I have heard
That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,
Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been struck so to the soul, that presently
They have proclaim'd their malefactions;
For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak
With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players
Play something like the murder of my father
Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;
I'll tent him to the quick:[73] if he do blench,[74]
I know my course. The spirit that I have seen
May be the devil: and the devil hath power
To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and, perhaps
Out of my weakness and my melancholy
(As he is very potent with such spirits),
Abuses me to damn me: I'll have good grounds
More relative than this:[75] The play's the thing
Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.
[_Exit_, R.H.]
END OF ACT SECOND.
Notes
Act II
[Footnote II.1: _Polonius_,] Doctor Johnson describes Polonius as
"a man bred in courts, exercised in business, stored with
observation, confident in his knowledge, proud of his eloquence,
and declining into dotage. A man positive and confident, because
he knows his mind was once strong, and knows not that it is
become weak." The idea of dotage encroaching upon wisdom will
solve all the phenomena of the character of Polonius.]
[Footnote II.2: _His bulk_,] Frame.]
[Footnote II.3: _Ecstacy of love_;] _i.e._, madness of love. In
this sense the word is now obsolete.]
[Footnote II.4:
_This must be known; which being kept close, might move
More grief to hide than hate to utter love._]
_i.e._, this must be made known to the king, for (being kept
secret) the hiding Hamlet's love might occasion more mischief to
us from him and the queen, than the uttering or revealing of it
will occasion hate and resentment from Hamlet.
It was the custom of Shakespeare's age, to conclude acts and
scenes with a couplet, a custom which was continued for nearly a
century afterwards.]
[Footnote II.5: _The understanding of himself_,] _i.e._, the just
estimate of himself.]
[Footnote II.6: _Vouchsafe your rest_] Please to reside.]
[Footnote II.7: _Of us_,] _i.e._, over us.]
[Footnote II.8: _In the full bent_,] To the full stretch and
range--a term derived from archery.]
[Footnote II.9: _The trail of policy_] The _trail_ is the
_course_ of an animal pursued by the scent.]
[Footnote II.10: _Expostulate_] To _expostulate_ is to discuss,
to put the pros and cons, to answer demands upon the question.
_Expose_ is an old term of similar import.]
[Footnote II.11: _Perpend._] _i.e._, reflect, consider
attentively.]
[Footnote II.12: _Most beautified Ophelia_,] Heywood, in his
History of Edward VI., says "Katharine Parre, Queen Dowager to
King Henry VIII., was a woman _beautified_ with many excellent
virtues." The same expression is frequently used by other old
authors.]
[Footnote II.13: _In her excellent white bosom_,] The ladies, in
Shakespeare's time, wore pockets in the front of their stays.]
[Footnote II.14: _These, &c._] In our poet's time, the word
_these_ was usually added at the end of the superscription of
letters.]
[Footnote II.15: _I am ill at these numbers_;] No talent for
these rhymes.]
[Footnote II.16: _O most best_,] An ancient mode of expression.]
[Footnote II.17: _Whilst this machine is to him_,] Belongs to,
obey his impulse; so long as he is "a sensible warm motion," the
similar expression to "While my wits are my own."]
[Footnote II.18: _And more above_,] _i.e._, moreover, besides.]
[Footnote II.19: _His solicitings_,] _i.e._, his love-making, his
tender expressions.]
[Footnote II.20: _If I had played the desk, or table book_;] This
line may either mean _if I had conveyed intelligence between
them_, or, _known of their love, if I had locked up his secret in
my own breast, as closely as it were confined in a desk or table
book._]
[Footnote II.21: _Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb_;]
_i.e._, connived at it.]
[Footnote II.22: _With idle sight_;] _i.e._, with indifference.]
[Footnote II.23: _Round to work_,] _i.e._, roundly, without
reserve.]
[Footnote II.24: _Which done, she took the fruits of my advice_;]
She took the _fruits_ of advice when she obeyed advice, the
advice was then made _fruitful._--JOHNSON.]
[Footnote II.25: _I'll board him presently._] Accost, address
him.]
[Footnote II.26: _You are a fishmonger._] This was an expression
better understood in Shakespeare's time than at present, and no
doubt was relished by the audience of the Globe Theatre as
applicable to the Papists, who in Queen Elizabeth's time were
esteemed enemies to the Government. Hence the proverbial phrase
of _He's an honest man and eats no fish_; to signify he's a
friend to the Government and a Protestant.]
[Footnote II.27: _For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog,
being a god, kissing carrion,----Have you a daughter?_] _i.e._,
Hamlet having just remarked that honesty is very rare in the
world, adds, that since there is so little virtue, since
corruption abounds everywhere, and maggots are _bred_ by the sun,
which is a god, even in a dead dog, Polonius ought to take care
to prevent his daughter from walking in the sun, lest she should