A Room of State in the Castle.
 Flourish.
 Enter Claudius KING of Denmark, Gertrude the QUEEN,
 HAMLET dressed in black, POLONIUS, LAERTES, OPHELIA, VOLTEMAND,
 CORNELIUS, and LORDS attending.

King	Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death
	The memory be green, and that it us befitted
	To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom
	To be contracted in one brow of woe;
	Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature
	That we with wisest sorrow think on him
	Together with remembrance of ourselves.
	Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,
	Th' imperial jointress to this warlike state,
	Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,
	With one auspicious and one dropping eye,
	With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,
	In equal scale weighing delight and dole,
	Taken to wife; nor have we herein barred
	Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone
	With this affair along. For all, our thanks.
	Now follows that you know young Fortinbras,
	Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
	Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
	Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
	Co-leagud with the dream of his advantage,
	He hath not failed to pester us with message
	Importing the surrender of those lands
	Lost by his father, with all bands of law,
	To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
	Now for ourself, and for this time of meeting,
	Thus much the business is: we have here writ
	To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,
	Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
	Of this his nephew's purpose, to suppress
	His further gait herein, in that the levies,
	The lists, and full proportions, are all made
	Out of his subject; and we here dispatch
	You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,
	For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,
	Giving to you no further personal power
	To business with the king more than the scope
	Of these dilated articles allow.
	Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.

Voltemand &
Cornelius	In that and all things will we show our duty.

King	We doubt it nothing; heartily farewell.
								 [Exeunt VOLTEMAND and CORNELIUS.

	And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?
	You told us of some suit. What is't, Laertes?
	You cannot speak of reason to the Dane
	And lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,
	That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?
	The head is not more native to the heart,
	The hand more instrumental to the mouth,
	Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.
	What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

Laertes	My dread lord,
	Your leave and favour to return to France,
	From whence though willingly I came to Denmark
	To show my duty in your coronation,
	Yet now, I must confess, that duty done,
	My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France,
	And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

King	Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

Polonius	He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave
	By laboursome petition, and at last
	Upon his will I sealed my hard consent.
	I do beseech you, give him leave to go.

King	Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,
	And thy best graces spend it at thy will!
	But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son-

Hamlet	[Aside.] A little more than kin, and less than kind.

King	How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

Hamlet	Not so, my lord. I am too much i'th' sun.

Queen	Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,
	And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.
	Do not for ever with thy vaild lids
	Seek for thy noble father in the dust.
	Thou know'st 'tis common: all that lives must die,
	Passing through nature to eternity.

Hamlet	Ay, madam, it is common.

Queen										If it be,
	Why seems it so particular with thee?

Hamlet	Seems, madam? Nay, it is, I know not 'seems'.
	'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
	Nor customary suits of solemn black,
	Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
	No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
	Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,
	Together with all forms, moods, shows of grief,
	That can denote me truly. These indeed seem,
	For they are actions that a man might play;
	But I have that within which passeth show,
	These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

King	'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,
	To give these mourning duties to your father;
	But you must know, your father lost a father,
	That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound
	In filial obligation for some term
	To do obsequious sorrow. But to persever
	In obstinate condolement is a course
	Of impious stubbornness, 'tis unmanly grief,
	It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
	A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,
	An understanding simple and unschooled;
	For what we know must be and is as common
	As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
	Why should we in our peevish opposition
	Take it to heart? Fie, 'tis a fault to heaven,
	A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
	To reason most absurd, whose common theme
	Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried
	From the first corpse till he that died today,
	'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth
	This unprevailing woe, and think of us
	As of a father; for let the world take note
	You are the most immediate to our throne,
	And with no less nobility of love
	Than that which dearest father bears his son
	Do I impart toward you. For your intent
	In going back to school in Wittenberg,
	It is most retrograde to our desire,
	And we beseech you, bend you to remain
	Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
	Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.

Queen	Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.
	I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.

Hamlet	I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

King	Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply:
	Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;
	This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet
	Sits smiling to my heart, in grace whereof,
	No jocund health that Denmark drinks today
	But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,
	And the king's rouse the heavens shall bruit again,
	Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.
								[Flourish. Exeunt all but HAMLET.

Hamlet	O that this too too solid flesh would melt,
	Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,
	Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
	His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God, O God!
	How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
	Seem to me all the uses of this world!
	Fie on't, ah fie! 'Tis an unweeded garden
	That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
	Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
	But two months dead - nay, not so much, not two-
	So excellent a king, that was to this
	Hyperion to a satyr, so loving to my mother
	That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
	Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
	Must I remember? Why, she should hang on him
	As if increase of appetite had grown
	By what it fed on, and yet within a month-
	Let me not think on't. Frailty, thy name is woman!
	A little month, or ere those shoes were old
	With which she followed my poor father's body,
	Like Niobe, all tears; why she, even she-
	O God, a beast that wants discourse of reason
	Would have mourned longer! - married with my uncle,
	My father's brother, but no more like my father
	Than I to Hercules. Within a month,
	Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
	Had left the flushing in her galld eyes,
	She married. O most wicked speed, to post
	With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
	It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
	But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

                 Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BARNARDO.

Horatio	Hail to your lordship!

Hamlet							I am glad to see you well.
	Horatio, or I do forget myself.

Horatio	The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.

Hamlet	Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you.
	And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?
	Marcellus?

Marcellus	My good lord.

Hamlet	I am very glad to see you. [To BARNARDO.] Good even, sir.
	But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

Horatio	A truant disposition, good my lord.

Hamlet	I would not hear your enemy say so,
	Nor shall you do mine ear that violence
	To make it truster of your own report
	Against yourself. I know you are no truant.
	But what is your affair in Elsinore?
	We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Horatio	My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

Hamlet	I prithee do not mock me, fellow-student;
	I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

Horatio	Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.

Hamlet	Thrift, thrift, Horatio. The funeral baked meats
	Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
	Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven
	Ere I had seen that day, Horatio.
	My father, methinks I see my father.

Horatio	Where, my lord?

Hamlet						In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Horatio	I saw him once. He was a goodly king.

Hamlet	He was a man. Take him for all in all,
	I shall not look upon his like again.

Horatio	My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

Hamlet	Saw? Who?

Horatio	My lord, the king your father.

Hamlet										The king my father!

Horatio	Season your admiration for a while
	With an attent ear, till I may deliver,
	Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
	This marvel to you.

Hamlet						For God's love, let me hear.

Horatio	Two nights together had these gentlemen,
	Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch,
	In the dead waste and middle of the night
	Been thus encountered. A figure like your father,
	Armd at points exactly, cap-a-pe,
	Appears before them, and with solemn march
	Goes slow and stately by them. Thrice he walked
	By their oppressed and fear-surprisd eyes,
	Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled
	Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
	Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me
	In dreadful secrecy impart they did,
	And I with them the third night kept the watch;
	Where, as they had delivered, both in time,
	Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
	The apparition comes. I knew your father;
	These hands are not more like.

Hamlet										But where was this?

Marcellus	My lord, upon the platform where we watched.

Hamlet	Did you not speak to it?

Horatio									My lord, I did,
	But answer made it none; yet once methought
	It lifted up it head and did address
	Itself to motion, like as it would speak;
	But even then the morning cock crew loud,
	And at the sound it shrunk in haste away
	And vanished from our sight.

Hamlet										'Tis very strange.

Horatio	As I do live, my honoured lord, 'tis true,
	And we did think it writ down in our duty
	To let you know of it.

Hamlet	Indeed, indeed, sirs; but this troubles me.
	Hold you the watch tonight?

Barnardo &
Marcellus									We do, my lord.

Hamlet	Armed, say you?

Barnardo &
Marcellus					Armed, my lord.

Hamlet										From top to toe?

Barnardo &
Marcellus	My lord, from head to foot.

Hamlet	Then saw you not his face.

Horatio	O yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.

Hamlet	What looked he? Frowningly?

Horatio	A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

Hamlet	Pale or red?

Horatio	Nay, very pale.

Hamlet						And fixed his eyes upon you?

Horatio	Most constantly.

Hamlet							I would I had been there.

Horatio	It would have much amazed you.

Hamlet	Very like, very like. Stayed it long?

Horatio	While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

Barnardo &
Marcellus	Longer, longer.

Horatio	Not when I saw't.

Hamlet	His beard was grizzled, no?

Horatio	It was as I have seen it in his life,
	A sable silvered.

Hamlet						I will watch tonight;
	Perchance 'twill walk again.

Horatio										I warrant you it will.

Hamlet	If it assume my noble father's person,
	I'll speak to it though hell itself should gape
	And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
	If you have hitherto concealed this sight,
	Let it be tenable in your silence still,
	And whatsoever else shall hap tonight,
	Give it an understanding but no tongue.
	I will requite your loves. So, fare you well.
	Upon the platform 'twixt eleven and twelve
	I'll visit you.

All					Our duty to your honour.

Hamlet	Your loves, as mine to you. Farewell.
												[Exeunt all but HAMLET.

	My father's spirit in arms! All is not well.
	I doubt some foul play. Would the night were come.
	Till then sit still, my soul. Foul deeds will rise,
	Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.
												[Exit.
