The Tragicall Historie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke Part 6

_Queene_ Hamlet, no more.

_Ham._ Why appet.i.te with you is in the waine, Your blood runnes backeward now from whence it came, Who'le chide hote blood within a Virgins heart, When l.u.s.t shall dwell within a matrons breast?

_Queene_ Hamlet, thou cleaues my heart in twaine.

_Ham._ O throw away the worser part of it, and keepe the better.

_Enter the ghost in his night gowne._

Saue me, saue me, you gratious Powers aboue, and houer ouer mee, With your celestiall wings.

Doe you not come your tardy sonne to chide, That I thus long haue let reuenge slippe by?

O do not glare with lookes so pittifull!

Lest that my heart of stone yeelde to compa.s.sion, And euery part that should a.s.sist reuenge, [G3]

Forgoe their proper powers, and fall to pitty.

_Ghost_ Hamlet, I once againe appeare to thee, To put thee in remembrance of my death: Doe not neglect, nor long time put it off.

But I perceiue by thy distracted lookes, Thy mother's fearefull, and she stands amazde: Speake to her Hamlet, for her s.e.x is weake, Comfort thy mother, Hamlet, thinke on me.

_Ham._ How i'st with you Lady?

_Queene_ Nay, how i'st with you That thus you bend your eyes on vacancie, And holde discourse with nothing but with ayre?

_Ham._ Why doe you nothing heare?

_Queene_ Not I.

_Ham._ Nor doe you nothing see?

_Queene_ No neither. (habite _Ham._ No, why see the king my father, my father, in the As he liued, looke you how pale he lookes, See how he steales away out of the Portall, Looke, there he goes. _exit ghost._ _Queene_ Alas, it is the weakeness of thy braine, Which makes thy tongue to blazon thy hearts griefe: But as I haue a soule, I sweare by heauen, I neuer knew of this most horride murder: But Hamlet, this is only fantasie, And for my loue forget these idle fits.

_Ham._ Idle, no mother, my pulse doth beate like yours, It is not madnesse that possesseth Hamlet.

O mother, if euer you did my deare father loue, Forbeare the adulterous bed to night, And win your selfe by little as you may, In time it may be you wil lothe him quite: And mother, but a.s.sist mee in reuenge, And in his death your infamy shall die.

_Queene_ _Hamlet_, I vow by that maiesty, That knowes our thoughts, and lookes into our hearts, [G3v]

I will conceale, consent, and doe my best, What stratagem soe're thou shalt deuise.

_Ham._ It is enough, mother good night: Come sir, I'le provide for you a graue, Who was in life a foolish prating knaue.

_Exit Hamlet with the dead body._

_Enter the King and Lordes._ _King_ Now Gertred, what sayes our sonne, how doe you finde him?

_Queene_ Alas my lord, as raging as the sea: Whenas he came, I first bespake him faire, But then he throwes and tosses me about, As one forgetting that I was his mother: At last I call'd for help: and as I cried, _Corambis_ Call'd, which Hamlet no sooner heard, but whips me Out his rapier, and cries, a Rat, a Rat, and in his rage The good olde man he killes.

_King_ Why this his madnesse will vndoe our state.

Lordes goe to him, inquire the body out.

_Gil._ We will my Lord. _Exeunt Lordes._ _King_ Gertred, your sonne shall presently to England, His s.h.i.+pping is already furnished, And we have sent by _Rossencraft_ and _Gilderstone_, Our letters to our deare brother of England, For Hamlets welfare and his happinesse: Happly the aire and climate of the Country May please him better than his natiue home: See where he comes.

_Enter Hamlet and the Lordes._ _Gil._ My lord, we can by no meanes Know of him where the body is.

_King_ Now sonne Hamlet, where is this dead body?

_Ham._ At supper, not where he is eating, but Where he is eaten, a certaine company of politicke wormes [G4]

are euen now at him.

Father, your fatte King, and your leane Beggar Are but variable seruices, two dishes to one messe: Looke you, a man may fish with that worme That hath eaten of a King, And a Beggar eate that fish, Which that worme hath caught.

_King_ What of this?

_Ham._ Nothing father, but to tell you, how a King May go a progresse through the guttes of a Beggar.

_King_ But sonne _Hamlet_, where is this body?

_Ham._ In heau'n, if you chance to misse him there, Father, you had best looke in the other partes below For him, aud if you cannot finde him there, You may chance to nose him as you go vp the lobby.

_King_ Make haste and finde him out.

_Ham._ Nay doe you heare? do not make too much haste, I'le warrant you hee'le stay till you come.

_King_ Well sonne _Hamlet_, we in care of you: but specially in tender preseruation of your health, The which we price euen as our proper selfe, It is our minde you forthwith goe for _England_, The winde sits faire, you shall aboorde to night, Lord _Rossencraft_ and _Gilderstone_ shall goe along with you.

_Ham._ O with all my heart: farewel mother.

_King_ Your louing father, _Hamlet_.

_Ham._ My mother I say: you married my mother, My mother is your wife, man and wife is one flesh, And so (my mother) farewel: for England hoe.

_exeunt all but the king._ _king_ Gertred, leaue me, And take your leaue of _Hamlet_, To England is he gone, ne're to returne: Our Letters are vnto the King of England, That on the sight of them, on his allegeance, He presently without demaunding why, [G4v]

That _Hamlet_ loose his head, for he must die, There's more in him than shallow eyes can see: He once being dead, why then our state is free. _exit._

_Enter Fortenbra.s.se, Drumme and Souldiers._

_Fort._ Captaine, from vs goe greete The king of Denmarke: Tell him that _Fortenbra.s.se_ nephew to old _Norway_, Craues a free pa.s.se and conduct ouer his land.

According to the Articles agreed on: You know our Randevous, goe march away. _exeunt all._

_enter King and Queene._

_King_ _Hamlet_ is s.h.i.+p't for England, fare him well, I hope to heare good newes from thence ere long, If euery thing fall out to our content, As I doe make no doubt but so it shall.

_Queene_ G.o.d grant it may, heau'ns keep my _Hamlet_ safe: But this mischance of olde _Corambis_ death, Hath piersed so the yong _Ofeliaes_ heart, That she, poore maide, is quite bereft her wittes.

_King_ Alas deere heart! And on the other side, We vnderstand her brother's come from _France_, And he hath halfe the heart of all our Land, And hardly hee'le forget his fathers death, Vnlesse by some meanes he be pacified.

_Qu._ O see where the yong _Ofelia_ is!

_Enter Ofelia playing on a Lute, and her haire downe singing_.

_Ofelia_ How should I your true loue know From another man?

By his c.o.c.kle hatte, and his staffe, And his sandall shoone. [H1]

White his shrowde as mountaine snowe, Larded with sweete flowers, That bewept to the graue did not goe With true louers showers: He is dead and gone Lady, he is dead and gone, At his head a gra.s.se greene turffe, At his heeles a stone.

_king_ How i'st with you sweete _Ofelia_?

_Ofelia_ Well G.o.d yeeld you, It grieues me to see how they laid him in the cold ground, I could not chuse but weepe: And will he not come againe?

And will he not come againe?

No, no, hee's gone, and we cast away mone, And he neuer will come againe.

His beard as white as snowe: All flaxen was his pole, He is dead, he is gone, And we cast away moane: G.o.d a mercy on his soule.

And of all christen soules I pray G.o.d.

G.o.d be with you Ladies, G.o.d be with you. _exit Ofelia._ _king_ A pretty wretch! this is a change indeede: O Time, how swiftly runnes our ioyes away!

Content on earth was neuer certaine bred, To day we laugh and liue, tomorrow dead.

How now, what noyse is that?

_A noyse within._ _enter Leartes._ _Lear._ Stay there vntill I come, O thou vilde king, give me my father: Speake, say, where's my father?

_king_ Dead.

_Lear._ Who hath murdred him? speake, i'le not Be juggled with, for he is murdred.

_Queene_ True, but not by him.

_Lear._ By whome, by heau'n I'll be resolued. [H1v]

_king_ Let him goe _Gertred_, away, I feare him not, There's such diuinitie doth wall a king, That treason dares not looke on.

Let him goe _Gertred_, that your father is murdred, T'is true, and we most sory for it, Being the chiefest piller of our state: Therefore will you like a most desperate gamster, Swoop-stake-like, draw at friend, and foe, and all?

_Lear._ To his good friends thus wide I'le ope mine arms, And locke them in my hart, but to his foes, I will no reconcilement but by bloud.

_king_ Why now you speake like a most louing sonne: And that in soule we sorrow for for his death, Yourselfe ere long shall be a witnesse, Meane while be patient, and content your selfe.

_Enter Ofelia as before._ _Lear._ Who's this, _Ofelia?_ O my deere sister!

I'st possible a yong maides life, Should be as mortall as an olde mans sawe?

O heau'ns themselues! how now _Ofelia_?

_Ofel._ Wel G.o.d a mercy, I a bin gathering of floures: Here, here is rew for you, You may call it hearb a grace a Sundayes, Heere's some for me too: you must weare your rew With a difference, there's a dazie.

Here Loue, there's rosemary for you For remembrance: I pray Loue remember, And there's pansey for thoughts.

_Lear._ A doc.u.ment in madnes, thoughts, remembrance: O G.o.d, O G.o.d!

_Ofelia_ There is fennell for you, I would a giu'n you Some violets, but they all withered, when My father died: alas, they say the owle was A Bakers daughter, we see what we are, But can not tell what we shall be.

For bonny sweete Robin is all my ioy. [H2]

_Lear._ Thoughts & afflictions, torments worse than h.e.l.l.

_Ofel._ Nay Loue, I pray you make no words of this now: I pray now, you shall sing a downe, And you a downe a, t'is a the Kings daughter And the false steward, and if any body Aske you of any thing, say you this.

Tomorrow is saint Valentines day, All in the morning betime, And a maide at your window, To be your Valentine: The yong man rose, and dan'd his clothes, And dupt the chamber doore, Let in the maide, that out a maide Neuer departed more.

Nay I pray marke now, By gisse, and by saint Charitie, Away, and fie for shame: Yong men will doo't when they come too't: By c.o.c.ke they are too blame.

Quoth she, before you tumbled me, You promised me to wed.

So would I a done, by yonder Sunne, If thou hadst not come to my bed.