O, give me leave: how does my good Lord Hamlet?[735] 170
Ham. Well, God-a-mercy.
Pol. Do you know me, my lord?
Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.[736]
Pol. Not I, my lord.
Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man. 175
Pol. Honest, my lord![737]
Ham. Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to[738]
be one man picked out of ten thousand.[738][739]
Pol. That's very true, my lord.
Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog,[740] 180
being a god kissing carrion—Have you a daughter?[741]
Pol. I have, my lord.
Ham. Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a
blessing; but as your daughter may conceive,—friend, look[742]
to't. 185
Ham. Words, words, words.
Pol. What is the matter, my lord?[749]
Pol. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.[751]
Ham. Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here that[752] 195
old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled,
their eyes purging thick amber and plum-tree gum, and[753]
that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most[754]
weak hams: all which, sir, though I most powerfully and
potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus 200
set down; for yourself, sir, shall grow old as I am, if like a[755]
crab you could go backward.
Pol. [Aside] Though this be madness, yet there is[756][757][758]
method in't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord?[757]
Ham. Into my grave.[759] 205
Pol. Indeed, that's out of the air. [Aside] How pregnant[760][761]
sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness[760][762]
hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously[760][763][764]
be delivered of. I will leave him, and suddenly contrive[760][764][765][766]
the means of meeting between him and my daughter. My[760][766][767] 210
honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.[760][767]
Ham. You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I[768]
will more willingly part withal: except my life, except my[769][770]
life, except my life.[770]
Pol. Fare you well, my lord. 215
Ham. These tedious old fools!
Pol. You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is.[772]
Ros. [To Polonius] God save you, sir! [Exit Polonius.[773]
Guil. My honoured lord![774]
Ros. My most dear lord! 220
Ham. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern?[775]
Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do you both?[776]
Ros. As the indifferent children of the earth.
Guil. Happy, in that we are not over-happy;[777]
On Fortune's cap we are not the very button.[777][778] 225
Ham. Nor the soles of her shoe?[779]
Ros. Neither, my lord.
Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the middle[780]
of her favours?[781]
Guil. Faith, her privates we.[782] 230
Ham. In the secret parts of Fortune? O, most true;
she is a strumpet. What's the news?[783]
Ros. None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.[784]
Ham. Then is doomsday near: but your news is not[785]
true. Let me question more in particular: what have you,[786] 235
my good friends, deserved at the hands of Fortune, that she[786]
sends you to prison hither?[786]
Guil. Prison, my lord![786]
Ham. Denmark's a prison.[786]
Ros. Then is the world one.[786] 240
Ham. A goodly one; in which there are many confines,[786]
wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst.[786][787]
Ros. We think not so, my lord.[786]
Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing[786][788]
either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me it is a[786][788] 245
prison.[786]
Ros. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too[786]
narrow for your mind.[786]
Ham. O God, I could be bounded in a nut-shell and[786]
count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I[786] 250
have bad dreams.[786][789]
Guil. Which dreams indeed are ambition; for the very[786]
substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.[786]
Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.[786]
Ros. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a[786] 255
quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.[786]
Ham. Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs[786]
and outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we to[786]
the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason.[786][790]
Ham. No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest[786]
of my servants; for, to speak to you like an honest man, I[786]
am most dreadfully attended. But, in the beaten way of[786]
friendship, what make you at Elsinore?[792][793]
Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. 265
Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but[794]
I thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear
a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it your own[795]
inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, deal justly with me:[796]
come, come; nay, speak. 270
Guil. What should we say, my lord?
Ham. Why, any thing, but to the purpose. You were[797]
sent for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks,[798]
which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: I
know the good king and queen have sent for you. 275
Ros. To what end, my lord?
Ham. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you,
by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our[799]
youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by[800]
what more dear a better proposer could charge you withal, be[801] 280
even and direct with me, whether you were sent for, or no.[802]
Ros. [Aside to Guil.] What say you?[803]
Ham. [Aside] Nay then, I have an eye of you.—If you[804][805]
love me, hold not off.[804]
Guil. My lord, we were sent for. 285
Ham. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent
your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen[806][807]
moult no feather. I have of late—but wherefore I know not—lost[807][808]
all my mirth, foregone all custom of exercises; and indeed[809]
it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly[810] 290
frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory; this most
excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging[811]
firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire, why,[812]
it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent[813]
congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man![814] 295
how noble in reason! how infinite in faculty! in form and[815][816]
moving how express and admirable! in action how like an[816]
angel! in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the[816]
world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this
quintessence of dust? man delights not me; no, nor woman[817] 300
neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.[818]
Ros. My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
Ham. Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man[819]
delights not me'?
Ros. To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what 305
lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you:[820]
we coted them on the way; and hither are they coming, to[821]
offer you service.
Ham. He that plays the king shall be welcome; his
majesty shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight[822] 310
shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not sigh gratis;[823]
the humourous man shall end his part in peace; the clown[824]
shall make those laugh whose lungs are tickled o' the sere,[824][825]
and the lady shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse[826]
shall halt for't. What players are they? 315
Ros. Even those you were wont to take such delight[827]
in, the tragedians of the city.[828]
Ham. How chances it they travel? their residence,[829]
both in reputation and profit, was better both ways.[830]
Ham. Do they hold the same estimation they did when[834]
I was in the city? are they so followed?
Ros. No, indeed, are they not.[835]
Ham. How comes it? do they grow rusty?[836] 325
Ros. Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace:[836]
but there is, sir, an eyrie of children, little eyases, that cry[836][837]
out on the top of question and are most tyranically clapped[836][838]
for't: these are now the fashion, and so berattle the common[836][839]
stages—so they call them—that many wearing rapiers[836][840] 330
are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither.[836]
Ham. What, are they children? who maintains 'em?[836][841]
how are they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no[836]
longer than they can sing? will they not say afterwards, if[836]
they should grow themselves to common players,—as it is[836][842] 335
most like, if their means are no better,—their writers do them[836][843]
wrong, to make them exclaim against their own succession?[836][844]
Ros. Faith, there has been much to do on both sides,[836]
and the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to controversy:[836]
there was for a while no money bid for argument unless[836] 340
the poet and the player went to cuffs in the question.[836]
Guil. O, there has been much throwing about of brains.[836]
Ham. Do the boys carry it away?[836]
Ros. Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too.[836][845] 345
Ham. It is not very strange; for my uncle is king of[846]
Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while[847]
my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats[848]
a-piece, for his picture in little. 'Sblood, there is something[849]
in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.[850] 350