Pol.

King

Pol.

King

Queen

King

Volt.

Have I, my lord? I assure you, my good liege,
I hold my duty as I hold my soul,

Both to my God, and to my gracious king;
And I do think, (or else this brain of mine
Hunts not the trail of policy so sure
As it hath used to do) that I have found
The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.

Oh, speak of that; that do I long to hear.
Give first admittance to th'ambassadors ;
My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.
Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in.

[Exit Polonius]

He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found
The head and source of all your son's distemper.

I doubt it is no other but the main

His father's death, and our hasty marriage.
Well, we shall sift him.

Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS
Welcome, my good friends :
Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?

Most fair return of greetings and desires.
Upon our first, he sent out to suppress
His nephew's levies, which to him appear'd
To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack,
But, better look'd into, he truly found
It was against your highness; whereat griev'd,
That so his sickness, age, and impotence,
Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests
On Fortinbras; which he (in brief) obeys,
Receives rebuke from Norway, and, in fine,
Makes vow before his uncle, never more
To give th'assay of arms against your majesty :
Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,

Gives him three-score thousand crowns in annual fee,

King

Pol.

Queen

Pol.

And his commission to employ those soldiers,
So levied (as before) against the Polack;
With an entreaty, herein further shown,

[Giving a paper]

That it might please you to give quiet pass
Through your dominions for this enterprise,
On such regards of safety and allowance
As therein are set down.

It likes us well,

And at our more considered time, we'll read,
Answer, and think upon this business :

Mean time, we thank you for your well-took labour;

Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together:

'Most welcome home.

This business is well ended.

[Exeunt Voltimand and Cornelius]

My liege, and madam, to expostulate

What majesty should be; what duty is;

Why day is day; night, night; and time is time;
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time.
Therefore brevity is the soul of wit,

And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes:
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad :
Mad call I it; for to define true madness,
What is't but to be nothing else but mad?
But let that go.

More matter, with less art.

Madam, I swear I use no art at all.

That he's mad, 'tis true; 'tis true, 'tis pity;
And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure;
But farewell it, for I will use no art.
Mad let us grant him then; and now remains
That we find out the cause of this effect
Or rather say, the cause of this defect;
For this effect defective comes by cause:
Thus it remains, and the remainder thus.
Perpend:

I have a daughter-have, while she is mine,

Queen

Pol.

King

Pol.

King

Pol.

For that we think is surest, we often lose-
Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,
Hath given me this; now gather and surmise.

[He opens a letter, and reads]

To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified Ophelia.

That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; "beautified" is a vile phrase; but you shall hear. Thus

[Reads] In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.

Came this from Hamlet to her?

Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; I have not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.

Thine evermore, most dear lady,

whilst this machine is to him,

This in obedience hath my daughter shown me ;

And more about, hath his solicitings,

As they fell out by time, by means, and place,
All given to mine ear.

But how hath she receiv'd his love?

What do you think of me?

As of a man faithful and honourable :

As of a true friend and a most loving subject.

HAMLET.

I would fain prove so. But what might you think,

When I had seen this hot love on the wing;

As I perceived it (I must tell

Before my daughter told me.

you that)

What might you,

Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,

King

Queen

Pol.

King

Pol.

King

Pol.

Queen

Pol.

If I had play'd the desk, or table-book,

Or given my heart a working mute and dumb,
Or look'd upon this love with idle sight;

What might you think? No, I went round to work,
And my young mistress thus I did bespeak;
"Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star;
This must not be"; and then I prescripts gave her,
That she should lock herself from her resort,
Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.
Which done, she took the fruits of my advice;
And he, repell'd, (a short tale to make)
Fell into a sadness, then into a fast,

Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness,
Thence to lightness, and by this declension,
Into the madness wherein now he raves,
And all we mourn for.

Do you think 'tis this?

It may be, very like.

Hath there been such a time, I would fain know that,
That I have positively said "'tis so,"

When it prov'd otherwise?

Not that I know.

Take this, from this, [pointing to his head and shoulder] if this

be otherwise.

If circumstances lead me, I will find

Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed
Within the centre.

How may we try it further?

You know, sometimes he walks for hours together
Here in the lobby.

So he does, indeed.

At such a time, I'll loose my daughter to him;
Be and I behind an arras then ;
you

Mark the encounter; if he love her not,

And be not from his reason fall'n thereon,

Let me be no assistant for a state,

But keep a farm and carters.

King

We will try it.

Queen

Pol.

But look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.
Away, I do beseech you, both away

[Exeunt King, Queen, and Attendants]

[Aside] I'll board him presently

Enter HAMLET, reading

[Addressing Hamlet] Oh, give me leave

Ham.

Pol.

Ham.

Pol.

Ham.

Pol.

Ham.

Pol.

Ham.

Pol.

Ham.

Pol.

Ham.

How does my good Lord Hamlet?

Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.
Not I, my lord.

Then I would you were so honest a man.
Honest, my lord?

Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one
man pick'd out of ten thousand.

For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a good kissing carrion-Have you a daughter?

I have, my lord.

Let her not walk i' the sun conception is a blessing;
but as your daughter may conceive-friend, look to't.
[Aside] How say you by that? Still harping on my
daughter yet he knew me not at first; he said I was a
fishmonger he is far gone and truly in my youth, I
suffered much extremity for love; very near this. I'll
speak to him again.-What do you read, my lord?
Words, words, words.