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uranus7

Autre image credit from BB Observatory - New Jersey to be processed

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Salut
Et ok Simon, merci pour ton message
Le fait est qu'Uranus 7 casse un peu, par exemple, Mr Thierry Legault.
Ne connaissant pas hélas Thierry personnellement,
je me demande juste si le ton qu'uranus7 utilise, lui permettra quand il le voudra ,
et longtemps encore, de venir ici dire du mal.

Car il y ici des personnes avec un vrai talent de photographie, qui se comportent
elles, correctement.
Et Uranus7 ne devrait pas s'inspirer du ton amical que l'on trouve ici?
🎈💝🎈
S'ouvrir sur les travaux des excellents photographes d'autres pays, bien entendu, cela fait envie, en permettant des comparaisons: mais celui là s'y prend vraiment mal, et ce n'est que mon avis


Bonne journée

GG

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Publicité
En vous inscrivant sur Astrosurf,
ce type d'annonce ne sera plus affiché.
Photographier la Lune
Guide complet pour la photographier de la Lune.
Information et commande sur www.photographierlalune.com
C'est vrai il s'y prend moyennement bien, mais bon, ça ne serait pas la première fois sur ce forum (et j'aurais envie de dire...*surtout* sur ce forum, sans méchanceté aucune), où ça gueule souvent, où le niveau de communication tends vers le zéro absolu alors que la mauvaise foi atteint des niveaux stratosphérique, etc... Bref, je trouvais juste dommage de voir des insultes par rapport à la langue de communication de ce fil, alors que le sujet du débat devrait être tout autre (et fondamentalement très intéressant!!).

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Y anus : il faudrait que tu évites les traducteurs de langue car l'expression "votre nationalisme abject" est complétement déplacée dans ce débat et je dirais même insultante !!! Perso, je ne parle que de POLITESSE : lorsque l'on est sur un fofo Français, et bien on s'exprime en Français ...

Essaye un peu de faire un post sur cloudy en Roumain !!! Et on va bien rigoler !!!

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Bonjour,

Je préfère m'abstenir de commenter tout ce que j'ai lu ici ou là car ça ne vole pas toujours très haut et des abus ont été fait dans les deux "camps"... par contre, je ne vois pas le problème concernant la langue employée (surtout que c'est quand même plutôt exceptionnel sur Astrosurf).

Personne n'oblige ceux qui ne savent pas lire l'anglais à venir lire ce qui se dit ici (surtout en sachant que celui qui initie le sujet n'est pas français)... Quant-à-l'usage d'un traducteur, bof, c'est pire que tout !

Alors soit on a envie de participer ou de comprendre ce qui se dit ici et on fait l'effort de lire, voire écrire en anglais, soit, à mon avis, on passe son chemin et on évite ainsi de faire des commentaires désobligeants ou déplacés qui ne devraient plus avoir cours en 2014.

François

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uranus7, usually the problem is as follows :

Evaluation of Turbulence Mitigation Methods
Adam W.M. van Eekeren, Claudia S. Huebner, Judith Dijk, Klamer Schutte, Piet B.W. Schwering

[Ce message a été modifié par ms (Édité le 04-12-2014).]

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Ce n'est pas à nous de faire l'effort de comprendre une autre langue, c'est à "Y anus" de faire l'effort d'écrire en Français ...

Et pis, on se passe des leçons de moral à deux balles !!!

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Hello, ms

Thank you, ms, for your suitable add. It's very instructive to be posted here and also excellent organized in flow-chart.

But ms, you don't forget that there are more than those 2 class of issues showed above (atm. turbulence - 2 components and camera's noise).
For example the FOG in the atmosphere (considered as an homogeneous issue for the whole frame surface), also the out or in-focus during the capture and others.

Here on above flow-chart, the value nk (if represent the camera's noise) is seen as a constant even IS NOT, because the camera's noise usually increase due to the inner heat or isn't stable even if camera is cooled (variations within an interval).
But we know: it's an approximating model as all math. helpful models.
By processing, we apply the associated de-convolutions and here is a very hilarious situation: using the parametrized de-convolution routines (software), if we don't know how to set the parameters we even may activate new issues (artifacts, etc).

Soon, right HERE, I'll give another concrete example of processing (first of all for Mr. AlSvartr), an example where I'll show, step by step, the look of a processed image at each step, trying to reach various goals.

Thank you again, "ms", thank you AlSvartr and François Emond for comments (remember that I much much better can understand in French than to speak or to write to).

Cheers,

Gabriel

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quote:
For example the FOG in the atmosphere (considered as an homogeneous issue for the whole frame surface), also the out or in-focus during the capture and others.

Variational Bayesian approach can give a good result in this more complex case.

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Scene 1. Elsinore. A platform before the castle.[edit]

FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO

BernardoWho's there?!FranciscoNay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself.BernardoLong live the king!FranciscoBernardo?BernardoHe.FranciscoYou come most carefully upon your hour.Bernardo'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.FranciscoFor this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold,And I am sick at heart.BernardoHave you had quiet guard?FranciscoNot a mouse stirring.BernardoWell, good night.If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus,The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste.FranciscoI think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there?
Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS

HoratioFriends to this ground.MarcellusAnd liegemen to the Dane.FranciscoGive you good night.MarcellusO, farewell, honest soldier:Who hath relieved you?FranciscoBernardo has my place.Give you good night.
Exit

MarcellusHolla! Bernardo!BernardoSay,What, is Horatio there?HoratioA piece of him.BernardoWelcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.MarcellusWhat, has this thing appear'd again to-night?BernardoI have seen nothing.MarcellusHoratio says 'tis but our fantasy,And will not let belief take hold of himTouching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us:Therefore I have entreated him alongWith us to watch the minutes of this night;That if again this apparition come,He may approve our eyes and speak to it.HoratioTush, tush, 'twill not appear.BernardoSit down awhile;And let us once again assail your ears,That are so fortified against our storyWhat we have two nights seen.HoratioWell, sit we down,And let us hear Bernardo speak of this.BernardoLast night of all,When yond same star that's westward from the poleHad made his course to illume that part of heavenWhere now it burns, Marcellus and myself,The bell then beating one,--
Enter Ghost

MarcellusPeace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!BernardoIn the same figure, like the king that's dead.MarcellusThou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.BernardoLooks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.HoratioMost like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.BernardoIt would be spoke to.MarcellusQuestion it, Horatio.HoratioWhat art thou that usurp'st this time of night,Together with that fair and warlike formIn which the majesty of buried DenmarkDid sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak!MarcellusIt is offended.BernardoSee, it stalks away!HoratioStay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak!
Exit Ghost

Marcellus'Tis gone, and will not answer.BernardoHow now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale:Is not this something more than fantasy?What think you on't?HoratioBefore my God, I might not this believeWithout the sensible and true avouchOf mine own eyes.MarcellusIs it not like the king?!HoratioAs thou art to thyself:Such was the very armour he had onWhen he the ambitious Norway combated;So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle,He smote the steeled pole-axe on the ice.'Tis strange.MarcellusThus twice before, and jump at this dead hour,With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.HoratioIn what particular thought to work I know not;But in the gross and scope of my opinion,This bodes some strange eruption to our state.MarcellusGood now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows,Why this same strict and most observant watchSo nightly toils the subject of the land,And why such daily cast of brazen cannon,And foreign mart for implements of war;Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore taskDoes not divide the Sunday from the week;What might be toward, that this sweaty hasteDoth make the night joint-labourer with the day:Who is't that can inform me?HoratioThat can I;At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king,Whose image even but now appear'd to us,Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway,Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride,Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet--For so this side of our known world esteem'd him--Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact,Well ratified by law and heraldry,Did forfeit, with his life, all those his landsWhich he stood seized of, to the conqueror:Against the which, a moiety competentWas gaged by our king; which had return'dTo the inheritance of Fortinbras,Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant,And carriage of the article design'd,His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras,Of unimproved mettle hot and full,Hath in the skirts of Norway here and thereShark'd up a list of lawless resolutes,For food and diet, to some enterpriseThat hath a stomach in't; which is no other--As it doth well appear unto our state--But to recover of us, by strong handAnd terms compulsatory, those foresaid landsSo by his father lost: and this, I take it,Is the main motive of our preparations,The source of this our watch and the chief headOf this post-haste and romage in the land.BernardoI think it be no other but e'en so:Well may it sort that this portentous figureComes armed through our watch; so like the kingThat was and is the question of these wars.HoratioA mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.In the most high and palmy state of Rome,A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted deadDid squeak and gibber in the Roman streets:As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,Disasters in the sun; and the moist starUpon whose influence Neptune's empire standsWas sick almost to doomsday with eclipse:And even the like precurse of fierce events,As harbingers preceding still the fatesAnd prologue to the omen coming on,Have heaven and earth together demonstratedUnto our climatures and countrymen.--But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again!
Re-enter Ghost
I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion!If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,Speak to me:If there be any good thing to be done,That may to thee do ease and grace to me,Speak to me:
Cock crows
If thou art privy to thy country's fate,Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak!Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy lifeExtorted treasure in the womb of earth,For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death,Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus.MarcellusShall I strike at it with my partisan?HoratioDo, if it will not stand.Bernardo'Tis here!Horatio'Tis here!Marcellus'Tis gone!
Exit Ghost
We do it wrong, being so majestical,To offer it the show of violence;For it is, as the air, invulnerable,And our vain blows malicious mockery.BernardoIt was about to speak, when the cock crew.HoratioAnd then it started like a guilty thingUpon a fearful summons. I have heard,The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throatAwake the god of day; and, at his warning,Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air,The extravagant and erring spirit hiesTo his confine: and of the truth hereinThis present object made probation.MarcellusIt faded on the crowing of the cock.Some say that ever 'gainst that season comesWherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,The bird of dawning singeth all night long:And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad;The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike,No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.HoratioSo have I heard and do in part believe it.But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad,Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill:Break we our watch up; and by my advice,Let us impart what we have seen to-nightUnto young Hamlet; for, upon my life,This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it,As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?MarcellusLet's do't, I pray; and I this morning knowWhere we shall find him most conveniently.
Exeunt

Scene 2. A room of state in the castle.[edit]



Edward Gordon Craig's stage design for act one, scene two of Hamlet at the Moscow Art Theatre, directed by Stanislavski. Design made in 1908.
Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants

King ClaudiusThough yet of Hamlet our dear brother's deathThe memory be green, and that it us befittedTo bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdomTo be contracted in one brow of woe,Yet so far hath discretion fought with natureThat we with wisest sorrow think on him,Together with remembrance of ourselves.Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,The imperial jointress to this warlike state,Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,--With an auspicious and a 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 barr'dYour better wisdoms, which have freely goneWith 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 deathOur state to be disjoint and out of frame,Colleagued with the dream of his advantage,He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,Importing the surrender of those landsLost by his father, with all bonds 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 writTo Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,--Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hearsOf this his nephew's purpose,--to suppressHis further gait herein; in that the levies,The lists and full proportions, are all madeOut of his subject: and we here dispatchYou, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;Giving to you no further personal powerTo business with the king, more than the scopeOf these delated articles allow.Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.CorneliusVoltimandIn that and all things will we show our duty.King ClaudiusWe doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.
Exeunt VOLTIMAND 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 loose 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?LaertesMy 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 FranceAnd bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.King ClaudiusHave you your father's leave? What says Polonius?Lord PoloniusHe hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leaveBy laboursome petition, and at lastUpon his will I seal'd my hard consent:I do beseech you, give him leave to go.King ClaudiusTake thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,And thy best graces spend it at thy will!But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,--HamletAside A little more than kin, and less than kind.King ClaudiusHow is it that the clouds still hang on you?HamletNot so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun.Queen GertrudeGood Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.Do not for ever with thy vailed lidsSeek for thy noble father in the dust:Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,Passing through nature to eternity.HamletAy, madam, it is common.Queen GertrudeIf it be,Why seems it so particular with thee?HamletSeems, 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 'havior of the visage,Together with all forms, moods, shapes 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 Claudius'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 boundIn filial obligation for some termTo do obsequious sorrow: but to perseverIn obstinate condolement is a courseOf impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief;It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,An understanding simple and unschool'd:For what we know must be and is as commonAs any the most vulgar thing to sense,Why should we in our peevish oppositionTake it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,To reason most absurd: whose common themeIs death of fathers, and who still hath cried,From the first corse till he that died to-day,'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earthThis unprevailing woe, and think of usAs of a father: for let the world take note,You are the most immediate to our throne;And with no less nobility of loveThan that which dearest father bears his son,Do I impart toward you. For your intentIn going back to school in Wittenberg,It is most retrograde to our desire:And we beseech you, bend you to remainHere, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.Queen GertrudeLet not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet:I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.HamletI shall in all my best obey you, madam.King ClaudiusWhy, 'tis a loving and a fair reply:Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come;This gentle and unforced accord of HamletSits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again,Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.
Exeunt all but HAMLET

HamletO, that this too too sullied flesh would meltThaw and resolve itself into a dew!Or that the Everlasting had not fix'dHis canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! 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 naturePossess 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 motherThat he might not beteem the winds of heavenVisit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,As if increase of appetite had grownBy 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 oldWith which she follow'd my poor father's body,Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she--O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,My father's brother, but no more like my fatherThan I to Hercules: within a month:Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tearsHad left the flushing in her galled eyes,She married. O, most wicked speed, to postWith 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 BERNARDO

HoratioHail to your lordship!HamletI am glad to see you well:Horatio,--or I do forget myself.HoratioThe same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.HamletSir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus?MarcellusMy good lord--HamletI am very glad to see you. Good even, sir.But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?HoratioA truant disposition, good my lord.HamletI would not hear your enemy say so,Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,To make it truster of your own reportAgainst yourself: I know you are no truant.But what is your affair in Elsinore?We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.HoratioMy lord, I came to see your father's funeral.HamletI pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student;I think it was to see my mother's wedding.HoratioIndeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.HamletThrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meatsDid coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.Would I had met my dearest foe in heavenOr ever I had seen that day, Horatio!My father!--methinks I see my father.HoratioWhere, my lord?HamletIn my mind's eye, Horatio.HoratioI saw him once; he was a goodly king.HamletHe was a man, take him for all in all,I shall not look upon his like again.HoratioMy lord, I think I saw him yesternight.HamletSaw? who?HoratioMy lord, the king your father.HamletThe king my father!HoratioSeason your admiration for awhileWith an attent ear, till I may deliver,Upon the witness of these gentlemen,This marvel to you.HamletFor God's love, let me hear.HoratioTwo nights together had these gentlemen,Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,In the dead vast and middle of the night,Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,Appears before them, and with solemn marchGoes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'dBy their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilledAlmost to jelly with the act of fear,Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to meIn dreadful secrecy impart they did;And I with them the third night kept the watch;Where, as they had deliver'd, 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.HamletBut where was this?MarcellusMy lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.HamletDid you not speak to it?HoratioMy lord, I did;But answer made it none: yet once methoughtIt lifted up its head and did addressItself 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 vanish'd from our sight.Hamlet'Tis very strange.HoratioAs I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;And we did think it writ down in our dutyTo let you know of it.HamletIndeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.Hold you the watch to-night?MarcellusBernardoWe do, my lord.HamletArm'd, say you?MarcellusBernardoArm'd, my lord.HamletFrom top to toe?MarcellusBernardoMy lord, from head to foot.HamletThen saw you not his face?HoratioO, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.HamletWhat, look'd he frowningly?HoratioA countenance more in sorrow than in anger.HamletPale or red?HoratioNay, very pale.HamletAnd fix'd his eyes upon you?HoratioMost constantly.HamletI would I had been there.HoratioIt would have much amazed you.HamletVery like, very like. Stay'd it long?HoratioWhile one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.MarcellusBernardoLonger, longer.HoratioNot when I saw't.HamletHis beard was grizzled--no?HoratioIt was, as I have seen it in his life,A sable silver'd.HamletI will watch to-night;Perchance 'twill walk again.HoratioI warrant it will.HamletIf it assume my noble father's person,I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gapeAnd bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,Let it be tenable in your silence still;And whatsoever else shall hap to-night,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.AllOur duty to your honour.HamletYour 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

Scene 3. A room in Polonius' house.[edit]

Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA

LaertesMy necessaries are embark'd: farewell:And, sister, as the winds give benefitAnd convoy is assistant, do not sleep,But let me hear from you.OpheliaDo you doubt that?LaertesFor Hamlet and the trifling of his favour,Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood,A violet in the youth of primy nature,Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting,The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.OpheliaNo more but so?LaertesThink it no more;For nature, crescent, does not grow aloneIn thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes,The inward service of the mind and soulGrows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now,And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirchThe virtue of his will: but you must fear,His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own;For he himself is subject to his birth:He may not, as unvalued persons do,Carve for himself; for on his choice dependsThe safety and health of this whole state;And therefore must his choice be circumscribedUnto the voice and yielding of that bodyWhereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you,It fits your wisdom so far to believe itAs he in his particular act and placeMay give his saying deed; which is no furtherThan the main voice of Denmark goes withal.Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain,If with too credent ear you list his songs,Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure openTo his unmaster'd importunity.Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister,And keep you in the rear of your affection,Out of the shot and danger of desire.The chariest maid is prodigal enough,If she unmask her beauty to the moon:Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes:The canker galls the infants of the spring,Too oft before their buttons be disclosed,And in the morn and liquid dew of youthContagious blastments are most imminent.Be wary then; best safety lies in fear:Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.OpheliaI shall the effect of this good lesson keep,As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother,Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,And recks not his own rede.LaertesO, fear me not.I stay too long: but here my father comes.
Enter POLONIUS
A double blessing is a double grace,Occasion smiles upon a second leave.Lord PoloniusYet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame!The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee!And these few precepts in thy memorySee thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue,Nor any unproportioned thought his act.Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;But do not dull thy palm with entertainmentOf each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. BewareOf entrance to a quarrel, but being in,Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee.Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;For the apparel oft proclaims the man,And they in France of the best rank and stationAre of a most select and generous chief in that.Neither a borrower nor a lender be;For loan oft loses both itself and friend,And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.This above all: to thine ownself be true,And it must follow, as the night the day,Thou canst not then be false to any man.Farewell: my blessing season this in thee!LaertesMost humbly do I take my leave, my lord.Lord PoloniusThe time invites you; go; your servants tend.LaertesFarewell, Ophelia; and remember wellWhat I have said to you.Ophelia'Tis in my memory lock'd,And you yourself shall keep the key of it.LaertesFarewell.
Exit

Lord PoloniusWhat is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you?OpheliaSo please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.Lord PoloniusMarry, well bethought:'Tis told me, he hath very oft of lateGiven private time to you; and you yourselfHave of your audience been most free and bounteous:If it be so, as so 'tis put on me,And that in way of caution, I must tell you,You do not understand yourself so clearlyAs it behoves my daughter and your honour.What is between you? give me up the truth.OpheliaHe hath, my lord, of late made many tendersOf his affection to me.Lord PoloniusAffection! pooh! you speak like a green girl,Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?OpheliaI do not know, my lord, what I should think.Lord PoloniusMarry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby;That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay,Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly;Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool.OpheliaMy lord, he hath importuned me with loveIn honourable fashion.Lord PoloniusAy, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.OpheliaAnd hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,With almost all the holy vows of heaven.Lord PoloniusAy, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,When the blood burns, how prodigal the soulLends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter,Giving more light than heat, extinct in both,Even in their promise, as it is a-making,You must not take for fire. From this timeBe somewhat scanter of your maiden presence;Set your entreatments at a higher rateThan a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet,Believe so much in him, that he is youngAnd with a larger tether may he walkThan may be given you: in few, Ophelia,Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers,Not of that dye which their investments show,But mere implorators of unholy suits,Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds,The better to beguile. This is for all:I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth,Have you so slander any moment leisure,As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.Look to't, I charge you: come your ways.OpheliaI shall obey, my lord.
Exeunt

Scene 4. The platform.[edit]

Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS

HamletThe air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.HoratioIt is a nipping and an eager air.HamletWhat hour now?HoratioI think it lacks of twelve.MarcellusNo, it is struck.HoratioIndeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the seasonWherein the spirit held his wont to walk.
A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within
What does this mean, my lord?HamletThe king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse,Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels;And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down,The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray outThe triumph of his pledge.HoratioIs it a custom?HamletAy, marry, is't:But to my mind, though I am native hereAnd to the manner born, it is a customMore honour'd in the breach than the observance.This heavy-headed revel east and westMakes us traduced and tax'd of other nations:They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phraseSoil our addition; and indeed it takesFrom our achievements, though perform'd at height,The pith and marrow of our attribute.So, oft it chances in particular men,That for some vicious mole of nature in them,As, in their birth--wherein they are not guilty,Since nature cannot choose his origin--By the o'ergrowth of some complexion,Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason,Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavensThe form of plausive manners, that these men,Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,--Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace,As infinite as man may undergo--Shall in the general censure take corruptionFrom that particular fault: the dram of ealeDoth all the noble substance of a doubtTo his own scandal.


David Garrick as Hamlet, Act I, Scene 4.HoratioLook, my lord, it comes!
Enter Ghost

HamletAngels and ministers of grace defend us!Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,Be thy intents wicked or charitable,Thou comest in such a questionable shapeThat I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet,King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me!Let me not burst in ignorance; but tellWhy thy canonized bones, hearsed in death,Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre,Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd,Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws,To cast thee up again. What may this mean,That thou, dead corse, again in complete steelRevisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon,Making night hideous; and we fools of natureSo horridly to shake our dispositionWith thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do?
[Ghost beckons HAMLET]
HoratioIt beckons you to go away with it,As if it some impartment did desireTo you alone.MarcellusLook, with what courteous actionIt waves you to a more removed ground:But do not go with it.HoratioNo, by no means.HamletIt will not speak; then I will follow it.HoratioDo not, my lord.HamletWhy, what should be the fear?I do not set my life in a pin's fee;And for my soul, what can it do to that,Being a thing immortal as itself?It waves me forth again: I'll follow it.HoratioWhat if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord,Or to the dreadful summit of the cliffThat beetles o'er his base into the sea,And there assume some other horrible form,Which might deprive your sovereignty of reasonAnd draw you into madness? think of it:The very place puts toys of desperation,Without more motive, into every brainThat looks so many fathoms to the seaAnd hears it roar beneath.


Hamlet and the Ghost (1789), by Henry Fuseli.


Marcellus and Horatio hold Hamlet before his father's ghost, by Fuseli.HamletIt waves me still.Go on; I'll follow thee.MarcellusYou shall not go, my lord.HamletHold off your hands.HoratioBe ruled; you shall not go.HamletMy fate cries out,And makes each petty artery in this bodyAs hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen.By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!I say, away! Go on; I'll follow thee.
[Exeunt Ghost and HAMLET]
HoratioHe waxes desperate with imagination.MarcellusLet's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him.HoratioHave after. To what issue will this come?MarcellusSomething is rotten in the state of Denmark.HoratioHeaven will direct it.MarcellusNay, let's follow him.
[Exeunt]

Scene 5. Another part of the platform.[edit]

Enter Ghost and Hamlet
HamletWhere wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further.GhostMark me.HamletI will.GhostMy hour is almost come,When I to sulphurous and tormenting flamesMust render up myself.HamletAlas, poor ghost!GhostPity me not, but lend thy serious hearingTo what I shall unfold.HamletSpeak; I am bound to hear.GhostSo art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear.HamletWhat?GhostI am thy father's spirit,Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,And for the day confined to fast in fires,Till the foul crimes done in my days of natureAre burnt and purged away. But that I am forbidTo tell the secrets of my prison-house,I could a tale unfold whose lightest wordWould harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres,Thy knotted and combined locks to partAnd each particular hair to stand on end,Like quills upon the fretful porpentine:But this eternal blazon must not beTo ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!If thou didst ever thy dear father love--HamletO God!GhostRevenge his foul and most unnatural murder.HamletMurder!GhostMurder most foul, as in the best it is;But this most foul, strange and unnatural.HamletHaste me to know't, that I, with wings as swiftAs meditation or the thoughts of love,May sweep to my revenge.GhostI find thee apt;And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weedThat roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf,Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear:'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of DenmarkIs by a forged process of my deathRankly abused: but know, thou noble youth,The serpent that did sting thy father's lifeNow wears his crown.HamletO my prophetic soul! My uncle!GhostAy, that incestuous, that adulterate beast,With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,--O wicked wit and gifts, that have the powerSo to seduce!--won to his shameful lustThe will of my most seeming-virtuous queen:O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there!From me, whose love was of that dignityThat it went hand in hand even with the vowI made to her in marriage, and to declineUpon a wretch whose natural gifts were poorTo those of mine!But virtue, as it never will be moved,Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven,So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,Will sate itself in a celestial bed,And prey on garbage.But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air;Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard,My custom always of the afternoon,Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial,And in the porches of my ears did pourThe leperous distilment; whose effectHolds such an enmity with blood of manThat swift as quicksilver it courses throughThe natural gates and alleys of the body,And with a sudden vigour doth possetAnd curd, like eager droppings into milk,The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine;And a most instant tetter bark'd about,Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust,All my smooth body.Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's handOf life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd:Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd,No reckoning made, but sent to my accountWith all my imperfections on my head:O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not;Let not the royal bed of Denmark beA couch for luxury and damned incest.But, howsoever thou pursuest this act,Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contriveAgainst thy mother aught: leave her to heavenAnd to those thorns that in her bosom lodge,To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once!The glow-worm shows the matin to be near,And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire:Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me.
Exit
HamletO all you host of heaven! O earth! what else?And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart;And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee!Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seatIn this distracted globe. Remember thee!Yea, from the table of my memoryI'll wipe away all trivial fond records,All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,That youth and observation copied there;And thy commandment all alone shall liveWithin the book and volume of my brain,Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven!O most pernicious woman!O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!My tables,--meet it is I set it down,That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark:
Writing
So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.'I have sworn 't.MarcellusHoratio[Within] My lord, my lord,--Marcellus[Within] Lord Hamlet,--Horatio[Within] Heaven secure him!HamletSo be it!Horatio[Within] Hillo, ho, ho, my lord!HamletHillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come.
Enter Horatio and Marcellus
MarcellusHow is't, my noble lord?HoratioWhat news, my lord?HamletO, wonderful!HoratioGood my lord, tell it.HamletNo; you'll reveal it.HoratioNot I, my lord, by heaven.MarcellusNor I, my lord.HamletHow say you, then; would heart of man once think it?But you'll be secret?HoratioMarcellusAy, by heaven, my lord.HamletThere's ne'er a villain dwelling in all DenmarkBut he's an arrant knave.HoratioThere needs no ghost, my lord, come from the graveTo tell us this.HamletWhy, right; you are i' the right;And so, without more circumstance at all,I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:You, as your business and desire shall point you;For every man has business and desire,Such as it is; and for mine own poor part,Look you, I'll go pray.HoratioThese are but wild and whirling words, my lord.HamletI'm sorry they offend you, heartily;Yes, 'faith heartily.HoratioThere's no offence, my lord.HamletYes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,And much offence too. Touching this vision here,It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you:For your desire to know what is between us,O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends,As you are friends, scholars and soldiers,Give me one poor request.HoratioWhat is't, my lord? we will.HamletNever make known what you have seen to-night.HoratioMarcellusMy lord, we will not.HamletNay, but swear't.HoratioIn faith,My lord, not I.MarcellusNor I, my lord, in faith.HamletUpon my sword.MarcellusWe have sworn, my lord, already.HamletIndeed, upon my sword, indeed.Ghost[Beneath] Swear.HamletAh, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there,truepenny?Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage--Consent to swear.HoratioPropose the oath, my lord.HamletNever to speak of this that you have seen,Swear by my sword.Ghost[Beneath] Swear.HamletHic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground.Come hither, gentlemen,And lay your hands again upon my sword:Never to speak of this that you have heard,Swear by my sword.Ghost[Beneath] Swear.HamletWell said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast?A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends.HoratioO day and night, but this is wondrous strange!HamletAnd therefore as a stranger give it welcome.There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come;Here, as before, never, so help you mercy,How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself,As I perchance hereafter shall think meetTo put an antic disposition on,That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,With arms encumber'd thus, or this headshake,Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,'Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,'Or such ambiguous giving out, to noteThat you know aught of me: this not to do,So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear.Ghost[Beneath] Swear.HamletRest, rest, perturbed spirit!
They swear
So, gentlemen,With all my love I do commend me to you:And what so poor a man as Hamlet isMay do, to express his love and friending to you,God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together;And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,That ever I was born to set it right!Nay, come, let's go together.

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Bertrand, l'acte 2, il est sympa

Scene 1. A room in Polonius' house.[edit]

Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO

Lord PoloniusGive him this money and these notes, Reynaldo.ReynaldoI will, my lord.Lord PoloniusYou shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo,Before you visit him, to make inquireOf his behavior.ReynaldoMy lord, I did intend it.Lord PoloniusMarry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir,Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris;And how, and who, what means, and where they keep,What company, at what expense; and findingBy this encompassment and drift of questionThat they do know my son, come you more nearerThan your particular demands will touch it:Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him;As thus, 'I know his father and his friends,And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo?ReynaldoAy, very well, my lord.Lord Polonius'And in part him; but' you may say 'not well:But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild;Addicted so and so:' and there put on himWhat forgeries you please; marry, none so rankAs may dishonour him; take heed of that;But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slipsAs are companions noted and most knownTo youth and liberty.ReynaldoAs gaming, my lord.Lord PoloniusAy, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling,Drabbing: you may go so far.ReynaldoMy lord, that would dishonour him.Lord Polonius'Faith, no; as you may season it in the chargeYou must not put another scandal on him,That he is open to incontinency;That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintlyThat they may seem the taints of liberty,The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind,A savageness in unreclaimed blood,Of general assault.ReynaldoBut, my good lord,--Lord PoloniusWherefore should you do this?ReynaldoAy, my lord,I would know that.Lord PoloniusMarry, sir, here's my drift;And I believe, it is a fetch of wit:You laying these slight sullies on my son,As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, Mark you,Your party in converse, him you would sound,Having ever seen in the prenominate crimesThe youth you breathe of guilty, be assuredHe closes with you in this consequence;'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,'According to the phrase or the additionOf man and country.ReynaldoVery good, my lord.Lord PoloniusAnd then, sir, does he this--he does--what was Iabout to say? By the mass, I was about to saysomething: where did I leave?ReynaldoAt 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,'and 'gentleman.'Lord PoloniusAt 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry;He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman;I saw him yesterday, or t' other day,Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say,There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse;There falling out at tennis:' or perchance,'I saw him enter such a house of sale,'Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth.See you now;Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth:And thus do we of wisdom and of reach,With windlasses and with assays of bias,By indirections find directions out:So by my former lecture and advice,Shall you my son. You have me, have you not?ReynaldoMy lord, I have.Lord PoloniusGod be wi' you; fare you well.ReynaldoGood my lord!Lord PoloniusObserve his inclination in yourself.ReynaldoI shall, my lord.Lord PoloniusAnd let him ply his music.ReynaldoWell, my lord.Lord PoloniusFarewell!
Exit REYNALDO Enter OPHELIA
How now, Ophelia! what's the matter?OpheliaO, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!Lord PoloniusWith what, i' the name of God?OpheliaMy lord, as I was sewing in my closet,Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced;No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd,Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle;Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other;And with a look so piteous in purportAs if he had been loosed out of hellTo speak of horrors,--he comes before me.Lord PoloniusMad for thy love?OpheliaMy lord, I do not know;But truly, I do fear it.Lord PoloniusWhat said he?OpheliaHe took me by the wrist and held me hard;Then goes he to the length of all his arm;And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow,He falls to such perusal of my faceAs he would draw it. Long stay'd he so;At last, a little shaking of mine armAnd thrice his head thus waving up and down,He raised a sigh so piteous and profoundAs it did seem to shatter all his bulkAnd end his being: that done, he lets me go:And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;For out o' doors he went without their helps,And, to the last, bended their light on me.Lord PoloniusCome, go with me: I will go seek the king.This is the very ecstasy of love,Whose violent property fordoes itselfAnd leads the will to desperate undertakingsAs oft as any passion under heavenThat does afflict our natures. I am sorry.What, have you given him any hard words of late?OpheliaNo, my good lord, but, as you did command,I did repel his letters and deniedHis access to me.Lord PoloniusThat hath made him mad.I am sorry that with better heed and judgmentI had not quoted him: I fear'd he did but trifle,And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jealousy!By heaven, it is as proper to our ageTo cast beyond ourselves in our opinionsAs it is common for the younger sortTo lack discretion. Come, go we to the king:This must be known; which, being kept close, might moveMore grief to hide than hate to utter love.
Exeunt

Scene 2. A room in the castle.[edit]

Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants

King ClaudiusWelcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!Moreover that we much did long to see you,The need we have to use you did provokeOur hasty sending. Something have you heardOf Hamlet's transformation; so call it,Sith nor the exterior nor the inward manResembles that it was. What it should be,More than his father's death, that thus hath put himSo much from the understanding of himself,I cannot dream of: I entreat you both,That, being of so young days brought up with him,And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior,That you vouchsafe your rest here in our courtSome little time: so by your companiesTo draw him on to pleasures, and to gather,So much as from occasion you may glean,Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus,That, open'd, lies within our remedy.Queen GertrudeGood gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you;And sure I am two men there are not livingTo whom he more adheres. If it will please youTo show us so much gentry and good willAs to expend your time with us awhile,For the supply and profit of our hope,Your visitation shall receive such thanksAs fits a king's remembrance.RosencrantzBoth your majestiesMight, by the sovereign power you have of us,Put your dread pleasures more into commandThan to entreaty.GuildensternBut we both obey,And here give up ourselves, in the full bentTo lay our service freely at your feet,To be commanded.King ClaudiusThanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.Queen GertrudeThanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz:And I beseech you instantly to visitMy too much changed son. Go, some of you,And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.GuildensternHeavens make our presence and our practisesPleasant and helpful to him!Queen GertrudeAy, amen!

Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and some Attendants Enter POLONIUS

Lord PoloniusThe ambassadors from Norway, my good lord,Are joyfully return'd.King ClaudiusThou still hast been the father of good news.Lord PoloniusHave I, my lord? I assure 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 mineHunts not the trail of policy so sureAs it hath used to do, that I have foundThe very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.King ClaudiusO, speak of that; that do I long to hear.Lord PoloniusGive first admittance to the ambassadors;My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.King ClaudiusThyself do grace to them, and bring them in.
Exit POLONIUS
He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath foundThe head and source of all your son's distemper.Queen GertrudeI doubt it is no other but the main;His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage.King ClaudiusWell, we shall sift him.
Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS
Welcome, my good friends!Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?VoltimandMost fair return of greetings and desires.Upon our first, he sent out to suppressHis nephew's levies; which to him appear'dTo be a preparation 'gainst the Polack;But, better look'd into, he truly foundIt was against your highness: whereat grieved,That so his sickness, age and impotenceWas falsely borne in hand, sends out arrestsOn Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys;Receives rebuke from Norway, and in fineMakes vow before his uncle never moreTo give the assay of arms against your majesty.Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee,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 passThrough your dominions for this enterprise,On such regards of safety and allowanceAs therein are set down.King ClaudiusIt likes us well;And at our more consider'd time we'll read,Answer, and think upon this business.Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour:Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together:Most welcome home!
Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS

Lord PoloniusThis business is well ended.My liege, and madam, to expostulateWhat 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, since 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.Queen GertrudeMore matter, with less art.Lord PoloniusMadam, I swear I use no art at all.That he is 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 remainsThat 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--Who, in her duty and obedience, mark,Hath given me this: now gather, and surmise.
Reads
'To the celestial and my soul's idol, the mostbeautified Ophelia,'--That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' isa vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus:
Reads
'In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.'Queen GertrudeCame this from Hamlet to her?Lord PoloniusGood madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.
Reads
'Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But never doubt I love.'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers;I have not art to reckon my groans: but thatI love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.'Thine evermore most dear lady, whilstthis machine is to him, HAMLET.'This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me,And more above, hath his solicitings,As they fell out by time, by means and place,All given to mine ear.King ClaudiusBut how hath sheReceived his love?Lord PoloniusWhat do you think of me?King ClaudiusAs of a man faithful and honourable.Lord PoloniusI 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 you that,Before my daughter told me--what might you,Or my dear majesty your queen here, think,If I had play'd the desk or table-book,Or given my heart a winking, 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 precepts gave her,That she should lock herself from his resort,Admit no messengers, receive no tokens.Which done, she took the fruits of my advice;And he, repulsed--a short tale to make--Fell into a sadness, then into a fast,Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness,Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension,Into the madness wherein now he raves,And all we mourn for.King ClaudiusDo you think 'tis this?Queen GertrudeIt may be, very likely.Lord PoloniusHath there been such a time--I'd fain know that--That I have positively said 'Tis so,'When it proved otherwise?King ClaudiusNot that I know.Lord PoloniusPointing to his head and shoulderTake this from this, if this be otherwise:If circumstances lead me, I will findWhere truth is hid, though it were hid indeedWithin the centre.King ClaudiusHow may we try it further?Lord PoloniusYou know, sometimes he walks four hours togetherHere in the lobby.Queen GertrudeSo he does indeed.Lord PoloniusAt such a time I'll loose my daughter to him:Be you and I behind an arras then;Mark the encounter: if he love her notAnd be not from his reason fall'n thereon,Let me be no assistant for a state,But keep a farm and carters.King ClaudiusWe will try it.Queen GertrudeBut, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.Lord PoloniusAway, I do beseech you, both away:I'll board him presently.
Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, and Attendants Enter HAMLET, reading
O, give me leave:How does my good Lord Hamlet?HamletWell, God-a-mercy.Lord PoloniusDo you know me, my lord?HamletExcellent well; you are a fishmonger.Lord PoloniusNot I, my lord.HamletThen I would you were so honest a man.Lord PoloniusHonest, my lord!HamletAy, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to beone man picked out of ten thousand.Lord PoloniusThat's very true, my lord.HamletFor if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being agod kissing carrion,--Have you a daughter?Lord PoloniusI have, my lord.HamletLet her not walk i' the sun: conception is ablessing: but not as your daughter may conceive.Friend, look to 't.Lord PoloniusAside How say you by that? Still harping on mydaughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said Iwas a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: andtruly in my youth I suffered much extremity forlove; very near this. I'll speak to him again.What do you read, my lord?HamletWords, words, words.Lord PoloniusWhat is the matter, my lord?HamletBetween who?Lord PoloniusI mean, the matter that you read, my lord.HamletSlanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says herethat old men have grey beards, that their faces arewrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber andplum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack ofwit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir,though I most powerfully and potently believe, yetI hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, foryourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crabyou could go backward.Lord PoloniusAside Though this be madness, yet there is methodin 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord?HamletInto my grave.Lord PoloniusIndeed, that is out o' the air.
Aside
How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happinessthat often madness hits on, which reason and sanitycould not so prosperously be delivered of. I willleave him, and suddenly contrive the means ofmeeting between him and my daughter.--My honourablelord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.HamletYou cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I willmore willingly part withal: except my life, exceptmy life, except my life.Lord PoloniusFare you well, my lord.HamletThese tedious old fools!
Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN

Lord PoloniusYou go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is.RosencrantzTo POLONIUS God save you, sir!
Exit POLONIUS

GuildensternMy honoured lord!RosencrantzMy most dear lord!HamletMy excellent good friends! How dost thou,Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both?RosencrantzAs the indifferent children of the earth.GuildensternHappy, in that we are not over-happy;On fortune's cap we are not the very button.HamletNor the soles of her shoe?RosencrantzNeither, my lord.HamletThen you live about her waist, or in the middle ofher favours?Guildenstern'Faith, her privates we.HamletIn the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; sheis a strumpet. What's the news?RosencrantzNone, my lord, but that the world's grown honest.HamletThen is doomsday near: but your news is not true.Let me question more in particular: what have you,my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune,that she sends you to prison hither?GuildensternPrison, my lord!HamletDenmark's a prison.RosencrantzThen is the world one.HamletA goodly one; in which there are many confines,wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst.RosencrantzWe think not so, my lord.HamletWhy, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothingeither good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to meit is a prison.RosencrantzWhy then, your ambition makes it one; 'tis toonarrow for your mind.HamletO God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and countmyself a king of infinite space, were it not that Ihave bad dreams.GuildensternWhich dreams indeed are ambition, for the verysubstance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.HamletA dream itself is but a shadow.RosencrantzTruly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light aquality that it is but a shadow's shadow.HamletThen are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs andoutstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall weto the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason.RosencrantzGuildensternWe'll wait upon you.HamletNo such matter: I will not sort you with the restof my servants, for, to speak to you like an honestman, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in thebeaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore?RosencrantzTo visit you, my lord; no other occasion.HamletBeggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but Ithank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks aretoo dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is ityour own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come,deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak.GuildensternWhat should we say, my lord?HamletWhy, any thing, but to the purpose. You were sentfor; and there is a kind of confession in your lookswhich your modesties have not craft enough to colour:I know the good king and queen have sent for you.RosencrantzTo what end, my lord?HamletThat you must teach me. But let me conjure you, bythe rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy ofour youth, by the obligation of our ever-preservedlove, and by what more dear a better proposer couldcharge you withal, be even and direct with me,whether you were sent for, or no?RosencrantzAside to GUILDENSTERN What say you?HamletAside Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If youlove me, hold not off.GuildensternMy lord, we were sent for.HamletI will tell you why; so shall my anticipationprevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the kingand queen moult no feather. I have of late--butwherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone allcustom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavilywith my disposition that this goodly frame, theearth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this mostexcellent canopy, the air, look you, this braveo'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof frettedwith golden fire, why, it appears no other thing tome than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!how infinite in faculty! in form and moving howexpress and admirable! in action how like an angel!in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of theworld! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me,what is this quintessence of dust? man delights notme: no, nor woman neither, though by your smilingyou seem to say so.RosencrantzMy lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.HamletWhy did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me'?RosencrantzTo think, my lord, if you delight not in man, whatlenten entertainment the players shall receive fromyou: we coted them on the way; and hither are theycoming, to offer you service.HamletHe that plays the king shall be welcome; his majestyshall have tribute of me; the adventurous knightshall use his foil and target; the lover shall notsigh gratis; the humourous man shall end his partin peace; the clown shall make those laugh whoselungs are tickled o' the sere; and the lady shallsay her mind freely, or the blank verse shall haltfor't. What players are they?RosencrantzEven those you were wont to take delight in, thetragedians of the city.HamletHow chances it they travel? their residence, bothin reputation and profit, was better both ways.RosencrantzI think their inhibition comes by the means of thelate innovation.HamletDo they hold the same estimation they did when I wasin the city? are they so followed?RosencrantzNo, indeed, are they not.HamletHow comes it? do they grow rusty?RosencrantzNay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: butthere is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases,that cry out on the top of question, and are mosttyrannically clapped for't: these are now thefashion, and so berattle the common stages--so theycall them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid ofgoose-quills and dare scarce come thither.HamletWhat, are they children? who maintains 'em? how arethey escoted? Will they pursue the quality nolonger than they can sing? will they not sayafterwards, if they should grow themselves to commonplayers--as it is most like, if their means are nobetter--their writers do them wrong, to make themexclaim against their own succession?Rosencrantz'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; andthe nation holds it no sin to tarre them tocontroversy: there was, for a while, no money bidfor argument, unless the poet and the player went tocuffs in the question.HamletIs't possible?GuildensternO, there has been much throwing about of brains.HamletDo the boys carry it away?RosencrantzAy, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too.HamletIt is not very strange; for mine uncle is king ofDenmark, and those that would make mows at him whilemy father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, anhundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little.'Sblood, there is something in this more thannatural, if philosophy could find it out.
Flourish of trumpets within

GuildensternThere are the players.HamletGentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands,come then: the appurtenance of welcome is fashionand ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb,lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you,must show fairly outward, should more appear likeentertainment than yours. You are welcome: but myuncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.GuildensternIn what, my dear lord?HamletI am but mad north-north-west: when the wind issoutherly I know a hawk from a handsaw.
Enter POLONIUS

Lord PoloniusWell be with you, gentlemen!HamletHark you, Guildenstern; and you too: at each ear ahearer: that great baby you see there is not yetout of his swaddling-clouts.RosencrantzHappily he's the second time come to them; for theysay an old man is twice a child.HamletI will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players;mark it. You say right, sir: o' Monday morning;'twas so indeed.Lord PoloniusMy lord, I have news to tell you.HamletMy lord, I have news to tell you.When Roscius was an actor in Rome,--Lord PoloniusThe actors are come hither, my lord.HamletBuz, buz!Lord PoloniusUpon mine honour,--HamletThen came each actor on his ass,--Lord PoloniusThe best actors in the world, either for tragedy,comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical,historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, orpoem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, norPlautus too light. For the law of writ and theliberty, these are the only men.HamletO Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!Lord PoloniusWhat a treasure had he, my lord?HamletWhy,'One fair daughter and no more,The which he loved passing well.'Lord PoloniusAside Still on my daughter.HamletAm I not i' the right, old Jephthah?Lord PoloniusIf you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughterthat I love passing well.HamletNay, that follows not.Lord PoloniusWhat follows, then, my lord?HamletWhy,'As by lot, God wot,'and then, you know,'It came to pass, as most like it was,'--the first row of the pious chanson will show youmore; for look, where my abridgement comes.
Enter four or five Players
You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am gladto see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my oldfriend! thy face is valenced since I saw thee last:comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my younglady and mistress! By'r lady, your ladyship isnearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by thealtitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, likea piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within thering. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'ento't like French falconers, fly at any thing we see:we'll have a speech straight: come, give us a tasteof your quality; come, a passionate speech.First PlayerWhat speech, my lord?HamletI heard thee speak me a speech once, but it wasnever acted; or, if it was, not above once; for theplay, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twascaviare to the general: but it was--as I receivedit, and others, whose judgments in such matterscried in the top of mine--an excellent play, welldigested in the scenes, set down with as muchmodesty as cunning. I remember, one said therewere no sallets in the lines to make the mattersavoury, nor no matter in the phrase that mightindict the author of affectation; but called it anhonest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by verymuch more handsome than fine. One speech in it Ichiefly loved: 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; andthereabout of it especially, where he speaks ofPriam's slaughter: if it live in your memory, beginat this line: let me see, let me see--'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,'--it is not so:--it begins with Pyrrhus:--'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms,Black as his purpose, did the night resembleWhen he lay couched in the ominous horse,Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'dWith heraldry more dismal; head to footNow is he total gules; horridly trick'dWith blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,Baked and impasted with the parching streets,That lend a tyrannous and damned lightTo their lord's murder: roasted in wrath and fire,And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore,With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish PyrrhusOld grandsire Priam seeks.'So, proceed you.Lord Polonius'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent andgood discretion.First Player'Anon he finds himStriking 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 swordThe unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming topStoops to his base, and with a hideous crashTakes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword,Which was declining on the milky headOf reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick:So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood,And like a neutral to his will and matter,Did nothing.But, as we often see, against some storm,A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,The bold winds speechless and the orb belowAs hush as death, anon the dreadful thunderDoth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause,Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work;And never did the Cyclops' hammers fallOn Mars's armour forged for proof eterneWith less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding swordNow falls on Priam.Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods,In general synod 'take away her power;Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven,As low as to the fiends!'Lord PoloniusThis is too long.HamletIt shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee,say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or hesleeps: say on: come to Hecuba.First Player'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--'Hamlet'The mobled queen?'Lord PoloniusThat's good; 'mobled queen' is good.First Player'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flamesWith bisson rheum; a clout upon that headWhere late the diadem stood, and for a robe,About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins,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 havepronounced:But if the gods themselves did see her thenWhen she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sportIn mincing with his sword her husband's limbs,The instant burst of clamour that she made,Unless things mortal move them not at all,Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven,And passion in the gods.'Lord PoloniusLook, whether he has not turned his colour and hastears in's eyes. Pray you, no more.Hamlet'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon.Good my lord, will you see the players wellbestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; forthey are the abstract and brief chronicles of thetime: after your death you were better have a badepitaph than their ill report while you live.Lord PoloniusMy lord, I will use them according to their desert.HamletGod's bodykins, man, much better: use every manafter his desert, and who should 'scape whipping?Use them after your own honour and dignity: the lessthey deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.Take them in.Lord PoloniusCome, sirs.HamletFollow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow.
Exit POLONIUS with all the Players but the First
Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play theMurder of Gonzago?First PlayerAy, my lord.HamletWe'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need,study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, whichI would set down and insert in't, could you not?First PlayerAy, my lord.HamletVery well. Follow that lord; and look you mock himnot.
Exit First Player
My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you arewelcome to Elsinore.RosencrantzGood my lord!HamletAy, so, God be wi' ye;
Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN
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 conceitThat from her working all his visage wann'd,Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect,A broken voice, and his whole function suitingWith forms to his conceit? 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 for passionThat I have? He would drown the stage with tearsAnd cleave the general ear with horrid speech,Make mad the guilty and appal the free,Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeedThe very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I,A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak,Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause,And can say nothing; no, not for a king,Upon whose property and most dear lifeA damn'd defeat was made. 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!'swounds, I should take it: for it cannot beBut I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gallTo make oppression bitter, or ere thisI should have fatted all the region kitesWith this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain!Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless 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 whore, unpack my heart with words,And fall a-cursing, like a very drab,A scullion! Fie upon't! foh! About, my brains!Hum, I have heardThat guilty creatures sitting at a playHave by the very cunning of the sceneBeen struck so to the soul that presentlyThey have proclaim'd their malefactions;For murder, though it have no tongue, will speakWith most miraculous organ. I'll have these playersPlay something like the murder of my fatherBefore mine uncle: I'll observe his looks;I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench,I know my course. The spirit that I have seenMay be the devil: and the devil hath powerTo assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhapsOut of my weakness and my melancholy,As he is very potent with such spirits,Abuses me to damn me: I'll have groundsMore relative than this: the play 's the thingWherein I'll catch the conscience of the king.

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C8 Plus : merci pour ces extraits ... mais regarde plutôt ici :

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLEMncv140s

Enjoy :-)

Uranus : ce que tu cherches à faire, c'est ce que fait la "speckle reconstruction" qui est mise à œuvre à BBSO (en plus de l'optique adaptative).
Tu peux jeter un œil sur la thèse très intéressante de Friedrich Woger qui fait, entre autres, une revue des différentes techniques de reconstructions d'images pour le solaire :
http://webdoc.sub.gwdg.de/ebook/dissts/Freiburg/Woeger2007.pdf

Qu'est-ce que tu utilises comme soft pour faire les déconvolutions successives ?

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urunus7 parvient à me faire envie d'apprendre l'anglais,
bravo, je n'y croyais plus
Gérard
PS: comme quoi, tout arrive

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Pour AlSvartr et tous mes amis d'ici:


Hello AlSvartr,

Here I am showing an initial arbitrary choose, very low definition picture (300x300 pixels) which I processed step by step having as general goal to clean it up and underline the details by various means.

here is the starting and the final version:


here are the corresponding image to the 6 steps below described:


Where:

1-the haze is a bit wiped.
2-highlighting the very small details
3-highlighting the medium details
4-highlighting the large details
5-tuning the contrasts on 3 level - micro, low and medium.
6- underlining a bit the edges.


[Ce message a été modifié par uranus7 (Édité le 04-12-2014).]

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Un petit coup d'acte 3 !!!

Scene 1. A room in the castle.[edit]

Enter King Claudius, Queen Gertrude, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern
King ClaudiusAnd can you, by no drift of circumstance,Get from him why he puts on this confusion,Grating so harshly all his days of quietWith turbulent and dangerous lunacy?RosencrantzHe does confess he feels himself distracted;But from what cause he will by no means speak.GuildensternNor do we find him forward to be sounded,But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof,When we would bring him on to some confessionOf his true state.Queen GertrudeDid he receive you well?RosencrantzMost like a gentleman.GuildensternBut with much forcing of his disposition.RosencrantzNiggard of question; but, of our demands,Most free in his reply.Queen GertrudeDid you assay himTo any pastime?RosencrantzMadam, it so fell out, that certain playersWe o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him;And there did seem in him a kind of joyTo hear of it: they are about the court,And, as I think, they have already orderThis night to play before him.Lord Polonius'Tis most true:And he beseech'd me to entreat your majestiesTo hear and see the matter.King ClaudiusWith all my heart; and it doth much content meTo hear him so inclined.Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,And drive his purpose on to these delights.RosencrantzWe shall, my lord.
Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN

King ClaudiusSweet Gertrude, leave us too;For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,That he, as 'twere by accident, may hereAffront Ophelia:Her father and myself, lawful espials,Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen,We may of their encounter frankly judge,And gather by him, as he is behaved,If 't be the affliction of his love or noThat thus he suffers for.Queen GertrudeI shall obey you.And for your part, Ophelia, I do wishThat your good beauties be the happy causeOf Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtuesWill bring him to his wonted way again,To both your honours.OpheliaMadam, I wish it may.
Exit QUEEN GERTRUDE

Lord PoloniusOphelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you,We will bestow ourselves.
To OPHELIA
Read on this book;That show of such an exercise may colourYour loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,--'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visageAnd pious action we do sugar o'erThe devil himself.King ClaudiusAside O, 'tis too true!How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art,Is not more ugly to the thing that helps itThan is my deed to my most painted word:O heavy burthen!Lord PoloniusI hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord.

Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS Enter HAMLET

HamletTo be, or not to be: that is the question:Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;No more; and by a sleep to say we endThe heart-ache and the thousand natural shocksThat flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummationDevoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;For in that sleep of death what dreams may comeWhen we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause: there's the respectThat makes calamity of so long life;For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,The insolence of office and the spurnsThat patient merit of the unworthy takes,When he himself might his quietus makeWith a bare bodkin? who would these fardels bear,To grunt and sweat under a weary life,But that the dread of something after death,The undiscover'd country from whose bournNo traveller returns, puzzles the willAnd makes us rather bear those ills we haveThan fly to others that we know not of?Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;And thus the native hue of resolutionIs sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,And enterprises of great pitch and momentWith this regard their currents turn awry,And lose the name of action.--Soft you now!The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisonsBe all my sins remember'd.OpheliaGood my lord,How does your honour for this many a day?HamletI humbly thank you; well, well, well.OpheliaMy lord, I have remembrances of yours,That I have longed long to re-deliver;I pray you, now receive them.HamletNo, not I;I never gave you aught.OpheliaMy honour'd lord, you know right well you did;And, with them, words of so sweet breath composedAs made the things more rich: their perfume lost,Take these again; for to the noble mindRich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.There, my lord.HamletHa, ha! are you honest?OpheliaMy lord?HamletAre you fair?OpheliaWhat means your lordship?HamletThat if you be honest and fair, your honesty shouldadmit no discourse to your beauty.OpheliaCould beauty, my lord, have better commerce thanwith honesty?HamletAy, truly; for the power of beauty will soonertransform honesty from what it is to a bawd than theforce of honesty can translate beauty into hislikeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now thetime gives it proof. I did love you once.OpheliaIndeed, my lord, you made me believe so.HamletYou should not have believed me; for virtue cannotso inoculate our old stock but we shall relish ofit: I loved you not.OpheliaI was the more deceived.HamletGet thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be abreeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest;but yet I could accuse me of such things that itwere better my mother had not borne me: I am veryproud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences atmy beck than I have thoughts to put them in,imagination to give them shape, or time to act themin. What should such fellows as I do crawlingbetween earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves,all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery.Where's your father?OpheliaAt home, my lord.HamletLet the doors be shut upon him, that he may play thefool no where but in's own house. Farewell.OpheliaO, help him, you sweet heavens!HamletIf thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague forthy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure assnow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to anunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needsmarry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enoughwhat monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go,and quickly too. Farewell.OpheliaO heavenly powers, restore him!HamletI have heard of your paintings too, well enough; Godhas given you one face, and you make yourselvesanother: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, andnick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonnessyour ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hathmade me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages:those that are married already, all but one, shalllive; the rest shall keep as they are. To anunnery, go.
Exit

OpheliaO, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword;The expectancy and rose of the fair state,The glass of fashion and the mould of form,The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,That suck'd the honey of his music vows,Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youthBlasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me,To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
Re-enter KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS

King ClaudiusLove! his affections do not that way tend;Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little,Was not like madness. There's something in his soul,O'er which his melancholy sits on brood;And I do doubt the hatch and the discloseWill be some danger: which for to prevent,I have in quick determinationThus set it down: he shall with speed to England,For the demand of our neglected tributeHaply the seas and countries differentWith variable objects shall expelThis something-settled matter in his heart,Whereon his brains still beating puts him thusFrom fashion of himself. What think you on't?Lord PoloniusIt shall do well: but yet do I believeThe origin and commencement of his griefSprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia!You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said;We heard it all. My lord, do as you please;But, if you hold it fit, after the playLet his queen mother all alone entreat himTo show his grief: let her be round with him;And I'll be placed, so please you, in the earOf all their conference. If she find him not,To England send him, or confine him whereYour wisdom best shall think.King ClaudiusIt shall be so:Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go.
Exeunt

Scene 2. A hall in the castle.[edit]

Enter HAMLET and Players

HamletSpeak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it toyou, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it,as many of your players do, I had as lief thetown-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the airtoo much with your hand, thus, but use all gently;for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say,the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and begeta temperance that may give it smoothness. O, itoffends me to the soul to hear a robustiousperiwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, tovery rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, whofor the most part are capable of nothing butinexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have sucha fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; itout-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it.First PlayerI warrant your honour.HamletBe not too tame neither, but let your own discretionbe your tutor: suit the action to the word, theword to the action; with this special o'erstep notthe modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone isfrom the purpose of playing, whose end, both at thefirst and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, themirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature,scorn her own image, and the very age and body ofthe time his form and pressure. Now this overdone,or come tardy off, though it make the unskilfullaugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; thecensure of the which one must in your allowanceo'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there beplayers that I have seen play, and heard otherspraise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely,that, neither having the accent of Christians northe gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have sostrutted and bellowed that I have thought some ofnature's journeymen had made men and not made themwell, they imitated humanity so abominably.First PlayerI hope we have reformed that indifferently with us,sir.HamletO, reform it altogether. And let those that playyour clowns speak no more than is set down for them;for there be of them that will themselves laugh, toset on some quantity of barren spectators to laughtoo; though, in the mean time, some necessaryquestion of the play be then to be considered:that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambitionin the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready.
Exeunt Players Enter POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN
How now, my lord! I will the king hear this piece of work?Lord PoloniusAnd the queen too, and that presently.HamletBid the players make haste.
Exit POLONIUS
Will you two help to hasten them?RosencrantzGuildensternWe will, my lord.

Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN

HamletWhat ho! Horatio!
Enter HORATIO

HoratioHere, sweet lord, at your service.HamletHoratio, thou art e'en as just a manAs e'er my conversation coped withal.HoratioO, my dear lord,--HamletNay, do not think I flatter;For what advancement may I hope from theeThat no revenue hast but thy good spirits,To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd?No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,And crook the pregnant hinges of the kneeWhere thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?Since my dear soul was mistress of her choiceAnd could of men distinguish, her electionHath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast beenAs one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing,A man that fortune's buffets and rewardsHast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are thoseWhose blood and judgment are so well commingled,That they are not a pipe for fortune's fingerTo sound what stop she please. Give me that manThat is not passion's slave, and I will wear himIn my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,As I do thee.--Something too much of this.--There is a play to-night before the king;One scene of it comes near the circumstanceWhich I have told thee of my father's death:I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,Even with the very comment of thy soulObserve mine uncle: if his occulted guiltDo not itself unkennel in one speech,It is a damned ghost that we have seen,And my imaginations are as foulAs Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note;For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,And after we will both our judgments joinIn censure of his seeming.HoratioWell, my lord:If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing,And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft.HamletThey are coming to the play; I must be idle:Get you a place.
Danish march. A flourish. Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others

King ClaudiusHow fares our cousin Hamlet?HamletExcellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eatthe air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so.King ClaudiusI have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these wordsare not mine.HamletNo, nor mine now.
To POLONIUS
My lord, you played once i' the university, you say?Lord PoloniusThat did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor.HamletWhat did you enact?Lord PoloniusI did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' theCapitol; Brutus killed me.HamletIt was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calfthere. Be the players ready?RosencrantzAy, my lord; they stay upon your patience.Queen GertrudeCome hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.HamletNo, good mother, here's metal more attractive.Lord PoloniusTo KING CLAUDIUS O, ho! do you mark that?HamletLady, shall I lie in your lap?
Lying down at OPHELIA's feet

OpheliaNo, my lord.HamletI mean, my head upon your lap?OpheliaAy, my lord.HamletDo you think I meant country matters?OpheliaI think nothing, my lord.HamletThat's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs.OpheliaWhat is, my lord?HamletNothing.OpheliaYou are merry, my lord.HamletWho, I?OpheliaAy, my lord.HamletO God, your only jig-maker. What should a man dobut be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully mymother looks, and my father died within these two hours.OpheliaNay, 'tis twice two months, my lord.HamletSo long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, forI'll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die twomonths ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there'shope a great man's memory may outlive his life halfa year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches,then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, withthe hobby-horse, whose epitaph is 'For, O, for, O,the hobby-horse is forgot.'
Hautboys play. The dumb-show enters


Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love

Exeunt

OpheliaWhat means this, my lord?HamletMarry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief.OpheliaBelike this show imports the argument of the play.
Enter Prologue

HamletWe shall know by this fellow: the players cannotkeep counsel; they'll tell all.OpheliaWill he tell us what this show meant?HamletAy, or any show that you'll show him: be not youashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means.OpheliaYou are naught, you are naught: I'll mark the play.PrologueFor us, and for our tragedy,Here stooping to your clemency,We beg your hearing patiently.
Exit

HamletIs this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?Ophelia'Tis brief, my lord.HamletAs woman's love.
Enter two Players, King and Queen

Player KingFull thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone roundNeptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground,And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheenAbout the world have times twelve thirties been,Since love our hearts and Hymen did our handsUnite commutual in most sacred bands.Player QueenSo many journeys may the sun and moonMake us again count o'er ere love be done!But, woe is me, you are so sick of late,So far from cheer and from your former state,That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must:For women's fear and love holds quantity;In neither aught, or in extremity.Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know;And as my love is sized, my fear is so:Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.Player King'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too;My operant powers their functions leave to do:And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,Honour'd, beloved; and haply one as kindFor husband shalt thou--Player QueenO, confound the rest!Such love must needs be treason in my breast:In second husband let me be accurst!None wed the second but who kill'd the first.HamletAside Wormwood, wormwood.Player QueenThe instances that second marriage moveAre base respects of thrift, but none of love:A second time I kill my husband dead,When second husband kisses me in bed.Player KingI do believe you think what now you speak;But what we do determine oft we break.Purpose is but the slave to memory,Of violent birth, but poor validity;Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree;But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be.Most necessary 'tis that we forgetTo pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt:What to ourselves in passion we propose,The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.The violence of either grief or joyTheir own enactures with themselves destroy:Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strangeThat even our loves should with our fortunes change;For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.The great man down, you mark his favourite flies;The poor advanced makes friends of enemies.And hitherto doth love on fortune tend;For who not needs shall never lack a friend,And who in want a hollow friend doth try,Directly seasons him his enemy.But, orderly to end where I begun,Our wills and fates do so contrary runThat our devices still are overthrown;Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own:So think thou wilt no second husband wed;But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.Player QueenNor earth to me give food, nor heaven light!Sport and repose lock from me day and night!To desperation turn my trust and hope!An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope!Each opposite that blanks the face of joyMeet what I would have well and it destroy!Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,If, once a widow, ever I be wife!HamletIf she should break it now!Player King'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile;My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguileThe tedious day with sleep.
Sleeps

Player QueenSleep rock thy brain,And never come mischance between us twain!
Exit

HamletMadam, how like you this play?Queen GertrudeThe lady protests too much, methinks.HamletO, but she'll keep her word.King ClaudiusHave you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't?HamletNo, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offencei' the world.King ClaudiusWhat do you call the play?HamletThe Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This playis the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago isthe duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall seeanon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: but what o'that? your majesty and we that have free souls, ittouches us not: let the galled jade wince, ourwithers are unwrung.
Enter LUCIANUS
This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king.OpheliaYou are as good as a chorus, my lord.HamletI could interpret between you and your love, if Icould see the puppets dallying.OpheliaYou are keen, my lord, you are keen.HamletIt would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.OpheliaStill better, and worse.HamletSo you must take your husbands. Begin, murderer;pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come:'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.'LucianusThoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing;Confederate season, else no creature seeing;Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,Thy natural magic and dire property,On wholesome life usurp immediately.
Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears

HamletHe poisons him i' the garden for's estate. Hisname's Gonzago: the story is extant, and writ inchoice Italian: you shall see anon how the murderergets the love of Gonzago's wife.


King Claudius and the theater by Devéria and Boulanger.OpheliaThe king rises.HamletWhat, frighted with false fire!Queen GertrudeHow fares my lord?Lord PoloniusGive o'er the play.King ClaudiusGive me some light: away!AllLights, lights, lights!
Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO

HamletWhy, let the stricken deer go weep,The hart ungalled play;For some must watch, while some must sleep:So runs the world away.Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers-- ifthe rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me--with twoProvincial roses on my razed shoes, get me afellowship in a cry of players, sir?HoratioHalf a share.HamletA whole one, I.For thou dost know, O Damon dear,This realm dismantled wasOf Jove himself; and now reigns hereA very, very--pajock.HoratioYou might have rhymed.HamletO good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for athousand pound. Didst perceive?HoratioVery well, my lord.HamletUpon the talk of the poisoning?HoratioI did very well note him.HamletAh, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders!For if the king like not the comedy,Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy.Come, some music!
Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN

GuildensternGood my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.HamletSir, a whole history.GuildensternThe king, sir,--HamletAy, sir, what of him?GuildensternIs in his retirement marvellous distempered.HamletWith drink, sir?GuildensternNo, my lord, rather with choler.HamletYour wisdom should show itself more richer tosignify this to his doctor; for, for me to put himto his purgation would perhaps plunge him into farmore choler.GuildensternGood my lord, put your discourse into some frame andstart not so wildly from my affair.HamletI am tame, sir: pronounce.GuildensternThe queen, your mother, in most great affliction ofspirit, hath sent me to you.HamletYou are welcome.GuildensternNay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the rightbreed. If it shall please you to make me awholesome answer, I will do your mother'scommandment: if not, your pardon and my returnshall be the end of my business.HamletSir, I cannot.GuildensternWhat, my lord?HamletMake you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but,sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command;or, rather, as you say, my mother: therefore nomore, but to the matter: my mother, you say,--RosencrantzThen thus she says; your behavior hath struck herinto amazement and admiration.HamletO wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! Butis there no sequel at the heels of this mother'sadmiration? Impart.RosencrantzShe desires to speak with you in her closet, ere yougo to bed.HamletWe shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Haveyou any further trade with us?RosencrantzMy lord, you once did love me.HamletSo I do still, by these pickers and stealers.RosencrantzGood my lord, what is your cause of distemper? youdo, surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, ifyou deny your griefs to your friend.HamletSir, I lack advancement.RosencrantzHow can that be, when you have the voice of the kinghimself for your succession in Denmark?HamletAy, but sir, 'While the grass grows,'--the proverbis something musty.
Re-enter Players with recorders
O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw withyou:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me,as if you would drive me into a toil?GuildensternO, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is toounmannerly.HamletI do not well understand that. Will you play uponthis pipe?GuildensternMy lord, I cannot.HamletI pray you.GuildensternBelieve me, I cannot.HamletI do beseech you.GuildensternI know no touch of it, my lord.Hamlet'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages withyour fingers and thumb, give it breath with yourmouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music.Look you, these are the stops.GuildensternBut these cannot I command to any utterance ofharmony; I have not the skill.HamletWhy, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make ofme! You would play upon me; you would seem to knowmy stops; you would pluck out the heart of mymystery; you would sound me from my lowest note tothe top of my compass: and there is much music,excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannotyou make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I ameasier to be played on than a pipe? Call me whatinstrument you will, though you can fret me, yet youcannot play upon me.
Enter POLONIUS
God bless you, sir!Lord PoloniusMy lord, the queen would speak with you, andpresently.HamletDo you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?Lord PoloniusBy the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed.HamletMethinks it is like a weasel.Lord PoloniusIt is backed like a weasel.HamletOr like a whale?Lord PoloniusVery like a whale.HamletThen I will come to my mother by and by. They foolme to the top of my bent. I will come by and by.Lord PoloniusI will say so.HamletBy and by is easily said.
Exit POLONIUS
Leave me, friends.
Exeunt all but HAMLET
'Tis now the very witching time of night,When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes outContagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood,And do such bitter business as the dayWould quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother.O heart, lose not thy nature; let not everThe soul of Nero enter this firm bosom:Let me be cruel, not unnatural:I will speak daggers to her, but use none;My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites;How in my words soever she be shent,To give them seals never, my soul, consent!
Exit

Scene 3. A room in the castle.[edit]

Enter King Claudius, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern
King ClaudiusI like him not, nor stands it safe with usTo let his madness range. Therefore prepare you;I your commission will forthwith dispatch,And he to England shall along with you:The terms of our estate may not endureHazard so dangerous as doth hourly growOut of his lunacies.GuildensternWe will ourselves provide:Most holy and religious fear it isTo keep those many many bodies safeThat live and feed upon your majesty.RosencrantzThe single and peculiar life is bound,With all the strength and armour of the mind,To keep itself from noyance; but much moreThat spirit upon whose weal depend and restThe lives of many. The cease of majestyDies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth drawWhat's near it with it: it is a massy wheel,Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount,To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser thingsAre mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls,Each small annexment, petty consequence,Attends the boisterous ruin. Never aloneDid the king sigh, but with a general groan.King ClaudiusArm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;For we will fetters put upon this fear,Which now goes too free-footed.RosencrantzGuildensternWe will haste us.

Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN Enter POLONIUS

Lord PoloniusMy lord, he's going to his mother's closet:Behind the arras I'll convey myself,To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home:And, as you said, and wisely was it said,'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhearThe speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege:I'll call upon you ere you go to bed,And tell you what I know.King ClaudiusThanks, dear my lord.
Exit POLONIUS
O, my offence is rank it smells to heaven;It hath the primal eldest curse upon't,A brother's murder. Pray can I not,Though inclination be as sharp as will:My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent;And, like a man to double business bound,I stand in pause where I shall first begin,And both neglect. What if this cursed handWere thicker than itself with brother's blood,Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavensTo wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercyBut to confront the visage of offence?And what's in prayer but this two-fold force,To be forestalled ere we come to fall,Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up;My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayerCan serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'?That cannot be; since I am still possess'dOf those effects for which I did the murder,My crown, mine own ambition and my queen.May one be pardon'd and retain the offence?In the corrupted currents of this worldOffence's gilded hand may shove by justice,And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itselfBuys out the law: but 'tis not so above;There is no shuffling, there the action liesIn his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd,Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,To give in evidence. What then? what rests?Try what repentance can: what can it not?Yet what can it when one can not repent?O wretched state! O bosom black as death!O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay!Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel,Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe!All may be well.

Retires and kneels Enter HAMLET



Hamlet comes upon the king at prayer, but does not kill him. Artist: Delacroix.HamletNow might I do it pat, now he is praying;And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven;And so am I revenged. That would be scann'd:A villain kills my father; and for that,I, his sole son, do this same villain sendTo heaven.O, this is hire and salary, not revenge.He took my father grossly, full of bread;With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May;And how his audit stands who knows save heaven?But in our circumstance and course of thought,'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged,To take him in the purging of his soul,When he is fit and season'd for his passage?No!Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent:When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage,Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed;At gaming, swearing, or about some actThat has no relish of salvation in't;Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,And that his soul may be as damn'd and blackAs hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays:This physic but prolongs thy sickly days.
Exit

King ClaudiusRising My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
Exit

Scene 4. The Queen's closet.[edit]

Enter Queen Gertrude and Polonius
Lord PoloniusHe will come straight. Look you lay home to him:Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,And that your grace hath screen'd and stood betweenMuch heat and him. I'll sconce me even here.Pray you, be round with him.HamletWithin Mother, mother, mother!Queen GertrudeI'll warrant you,Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming.

POLONIUS hides behind the arras Enter HAMLET

HamletNow, mother, what's the matter?Queen GertrudeHamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.HamletMother, you have my father much offended.Queen GertrudeCome, come, you answer with an idle tongue.HamletGo, go, you question with a wicked tongue.Queen GertrudeWhy, how now, Hamlet!HamletWhat's the matter now?Queen GertrudeHave you forgot me?HamletNo, by the rood, not so:You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;And--would it were not so!--you are my mother.Queen GertrudeNay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.HamletCome, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge;You go not till I set you up a glassWhere you may see the inmost part of you.Queen GertrudeWhat wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me?Help, help, ho!Lord PoloniusBehind What, ho! help, help, help!


Hamlet and the slain Polonius's body (1835), by Delacroix.HamletDrawing How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead!
Makes a pass through the arras

Lord PoloniusBehind O, I am slain!
Falls and dies

Queen GertrudeO me, what hast thou done?HamletNay, I know not:Is it the king?Queen GertrudeO, what a rash and bloody deed is this!HamletA bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother,As kill a king, and marry with his brother.Queen GertrudeAs kill a king!HamletAy, lady, 'twas my word.
Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune;Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down,And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,If it be made of penetrable stuff,If damned custom have not brass'd it soThat it is proof and bulwark against sense.Queen GertrudeWhat have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongueIn noise so rude against me?HamletSuch an actThat blurs the grace and blush of modesty,Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the roseFrom the fair forehead of an innocent loveAnd sets a blister there, makes marriage-vowsAs false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deedAs from the body of contraction plucksThe very soul, and sweet religion makesA rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow:Yea, this solidity and compound mass,With tristful visage, as against the doom,Is thought-sick at the act.Queen GertrudeAy me, what act,That roars so loud, and thunders in the index?

HamletLook here, upon this picture, and on this,The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.See, what a grace was seated on this brow;Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;A station like the herald MercuryNew-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;A combination and a form indeed,Where every god did seem to set his seal,To give the world assurance of a man:This was your husband. Look you now, what follows:Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?You cannot call it love; for at your ageThe hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,And waits upon the judgment: and what judgmentWould step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have,Else could you not have motion; but sure, that senseIs apoplex'd; for madness would not err,Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'dBut it reserved some quantity of choice,To serve in such a difference. What devil was'tThat thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,Or but a sickly part of one true senseCould not so mope.O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shameWhen the compulsive ardour gives the charge,Since frost itself as actively doth burnAnd reason panders will.Queen GertrudeO Hamlet, speak no more:Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul;And there I see such black and grained spotsAs will not leave their tinct.HamletNay, but to liveIn the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making loveOver the nasty sty,--Queen GertrudeO, speak to me no more;These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears;No more, sweet Hamlet!HamletA murderer and a villain;A slave that is not twentieth part the titheOf your precedent lord; a vice of kings;A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,That from a shelf the precious diadem stole,And put it in his pocket!Queen GertrudeNo more!


Hamlet Shows His Mother the Ghost of His Father (ca. 1778) by Nicolai Abraham Abildgaard.HamletA king of shreds and patches,--
Enter Ghost
Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings,You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?Queen GertrudeAlas, he's mad!HamletDo you not come your tardy son to chide,That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go byThe important acting of your dread command? O, say!GhostDo not forget: this visitationIs but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.But, look, amazement on thy mother sits:O, step between her and her fighting soul:Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works:Speak to her, Hamlet.HamletHow is it with you, lady?Queen GertrudeAlas, how is't with you,That you do bend your eye on vacancyAnd with the incorporal air do hold discourse?Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,Your bedded hair, like life in excrements,Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son,Upon the heat and flame of thy distemperSprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look?HamletOn him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares!His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,Would make them capable. Do not look upon me;Lest with this piteous action you convertMy stern effects: then what I have to doWill want true colour; tears perchance for blood.Queen GertrudeTo whom do you speak this?HamletDo you see nothing there?Queen GertrudeNothing at all; yet all that is I see.HamletNor did you nothing hear?Queen GertrudeNo, nothing but ourselves.HamletWhy, look you there! look, how it steals away!My father, in his habit as he lived!Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!
Exit Ghost

Queen GertrudeThis the very coinage of your brain:This bodiless creation ecstasyIs very cunning in.HamletEcstasy!My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time,And makes as healthful music: it is not madnessThat I have utter'd: bring me to the test,And I the matter will re-word; which madnessWould gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,Lay not that mattering unction to your soul,That not your trespass, but my madness speaks:It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,Whilst rank corruption, mining all within,Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;And do not spread the compost on the weeds,To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;For in the fatness of these pursy timesVirtue itself of vice must pardon beg,Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.Queen GertrudeO Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain.HamletO, throw away the worser part of it,And live the purer with the other half.Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed;Assume a virtue, if you have it not.That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat,Of habits devil, is angel yet in this,That to the use of actions fair and goodHe likewise gives a frock or livery,That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night,And that shall lend a kind of easinessTo the next abstinence: the next more easy;For use almost can change the stamp of nature,And either ... the devil, or throw him outWith wondrous potency. Once more, good night:And when you are desirous to be bless'd,I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,
Pointing to POLONIUS
I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so,To punish me with this and this with me,That I must be their scourge and minister.I will bestow him, and will answer wellThe death I gave him. So, again, good night.I must be cruel, only to be kind:Thus bad begins and worse remains behind.One word more, good lady.Queen GertrudeWhat shall I do?HamletNot this, by no means, that I bid you do:Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed;Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse;And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses,Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers,Make you to ravel all this matter out,That I essentially am not in madness,But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know;For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib,Such dear concernings hide? who would do so?No, in despite of sense and secrecy,Unpeg the basket on the house's top.Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape,To try conclusions, in the basket creep,And break your own neck down.Queen GertrudeBe thou assured, if words be made of breath,And breath of life, I have no life to breatheWhat thou hast said to me.HamletI must to England; you know that?Queen GertrudeAlack,I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on.HamletThere's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows,Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd,They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way,And marshal me to knavery. Let it work;For 'tis the sport to have the engineerHoist with his own petard: and 't shall go hardBut I will delve one yard below their mines,And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet,When in one line two crafts directly meet.This man shall set me packing:I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room.Mother, good night. Indeed this counsellorIs now most still, most secret and most grave,Who was in life a foolish prating knave.Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you.Good night, mother.

[Ce message a été modifié par C8 plus (Édité le 04-12-2014).]

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Et pis l'acte 4 !!!

Scene 1. A room in the castle.[edit]

Enter King Claudius, Queen Gertrude, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern
King ClaudiusThere's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves:You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them.Where is your son?Queen GertrudeBestow this place on us a little while.
Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN
Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night!King ClaudiusWhat, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?Queen GertrudeMad as the sea and wind, when both contendWhich is the mightier: in his lawless fit,Behind the arras hearing something stir,Whips out his rapier, cries, 'A rat, a rat!'And, in this brainish apprehension, killsThe unseen good old man.King ClaudiusO heavy deed!It had been so with us, had we been there:His liberty is full of threats to all;To you yourself, to us, to every one.Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd?It will be laid to us, whose providenceShould have kept short, restrain'd and out of haunt,This mad young man: but so much was our love,We would not understand what was most fit;But, like the owner of a foul disease,To keep it from divulging, let it feedEven on the pith of Life. Where is he gone?Queen GertrudeTo draw apart the body he hath kill'd:O'er whom his very madness, like some oreAmong a mineral of metals base,Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done.King ClaudiusO Gertrude, come away!The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch,But we will ship him hence: and this vile deedWe must, with all our majesty and skill,Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern!
Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN
Friends both, go join you with some further aid:Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him:Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the bodyInto the chapel. I pray you, haste in this.
Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN
Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends;And let them know, both what we mean to do,And what's untimely done...Whose whisper o'er the world's diameter,As level as the cannon to his blank,Transports his poison'd shot, may miss our name,And hit the woundless air. O, come away!My soul is full of discord and dismay.
Exeunt

Scene 2. Another room in the castle.[edit]

Enter Hamlet
HamletSafely stowed.RosencrantzGuildensternWithin Hamlet! Lord Hamlet!HamletWhat noise? who calls on Hamlet?O, here they come.
Enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern

RosencrantzWhat have you done, my lord, with the dead body?HamletCompounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.RosencrantzTell us where 'tis, that we may take it thenceAnd bear it to the chapel.HamletDo not believe it.RosencrantzBelieve what?HamletThat I can keep your counsel and not mine own.Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! whatreplication should be made by the son of a king?RosencrantzTake you me for a sponge, my lord?HamletAy, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, hisrewards, his authorities. But such officers do theking best service in the end: he keeps them, likean ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, tobe last swallowed: when he needs what you havegleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, youshall be dry again.RosencrantzI understand you not, my lord.HamletI am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in afoolish ear.RosencrantzMy lord, you must tell us where the body is, and gowith us to the king.HamletThe body is with the king, but the king is not withthe body. The king is a thing--GuildensternA thing, my lord!HamletOf nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after.
Exeunt

Scene 3. Another room in the castle.[edit]

Enter King Claudius, attended
King ClaudiusI have sent to seek him, and to find the body.How dangerous is it that this man goes loose!Yet must not we put the strong law on him:He's loved of the distracted multitude,Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes;And where tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd,But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even,This sudden sending him away must seemDeliberate pause: diseases desperate grownBy desperate appliance are relieved,Or not at all.
Enter Rosencrantz
How now! what hath befall'n?RosencrantzWhere the dead body is bestow'd, my lord,We cannot get from him.King ClaudiusBut where is he?


RosencrantzWithout, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure.


King ClaudiusBring him before us.RosencrantzHo, Guildenstern! bring in my lord.
Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN

King ClaudiusNow, Hamlet, where's Polonius?HamletAt supper.King ClaudiusAt supper! where?HamletNot where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certainconvocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Yourworm is your only emperor for diet: we fat allcreatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves formaggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is butvariable service, two dishes, but to one table:that's the end.King ClaudiusAlas, alas!HamletA man may fish with the worm that hath eat of aking, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.King ClaudiusWhat dost you mean by this?HamletNothing but to show you how a king may go aprogress through the guts of a beggar.King ClaudiusWhere is Polonius?HamletIn heaven; send hither to see: if your messengerfind him not there, seek him i' the other placeyourself. But indeed, if you find him not withinthis month, you shall nose him as you go up thestairs into the lobby.King ClaudiusGo seek him there.
To some Attendants

HamletHe will stay till ye come.
Exeunt Attendants

King ClaudiusHamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,--Which we do tender, as we dearly grieveFor that which thou hast done,--must send thee henceWith fiery quickness: therefore prepare thyself;The bark is ready, and the wind at help,The associates tend, and every thing is bentFor England.HamletFor England!King ClaudiusAy, Hamlet.HamletGood.King ClaudiusSo is it, if thou knew'st our purposes.HamletI see a cherub that sees them. But, come; forEngland! Farewell, dear mother.King ClaudiusThy loving father, Hamlet.HamletMy mother: father and mother is man and wife; manand wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England!
Exit

King ClaudiusFollow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard;Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night:Away! for every thing is seal'd and doneThat else leans on the affair: pray you, make haste.
Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN
And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught--As my great power thereof may give thee sense,Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and redAfter the Danish sword, and thy free awePays homage to us--thou mayst not coldly setOur sovereign process; which imports at full,By letters congruing to that effect,The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England;For like the hectic in my blood he rages,And thou must cure me: till I know 'tis done,Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun.
Exit

Scene 4. A plain in Denmark.[edit]

Enter FORTINBRAS, a Captain, and Soldiers, marching

Prince FortinbrasGo, captain, from me greet the Danish king;Tell him that, by his licence, FortinbrasCraves the conveyance of a promised marchOver his kingdom. You know the rendezvous.If that his majesty would aught with us,We shall express our duty in his eye;And let him know so.CaptainI will do't, my lord.Prince FortinbrasGo softly on.

Exeunt FORTINBRAS and Soldiers Enter HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others

HamletGood sir, whose powers are these?CaptainThey are of Norway, sir.HamletHow purposed, sir, I pray you?CaptainAgainst some part of Poland.HamletWho commands them, sir?CaptainThe nephew to old Norway, Fortinbras.HamletGoes it against the main of Poland, sir,Or for some frontier?CaptainTruly to speak, and with no addition,We go to gain a little patch of groundThat hath in it no profit but the name.To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it;Nor will it yield to Norway or the PoleA ranker rate, should it be sold in fee.HamletWhy, then the Polack never will defend it.CaptainYes, it is already garrison'd.HamletTwo thousand souls and twenty thousand ducatsWill not debate the question of this straw:This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace,That inward breaks, and shows no cause withoutWhy the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir.CaptainGod be wi' you, sir.
Exit

RosencrantzWilt please you go, my lord?HamletI'll be with you straight. Go a little before.
Exeunt all except HAMLET
How all occasions do inform against me,And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,If his chief good and market of his timeBe but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,Looking before and after, gave us notThat capability and god-like reasonTo fust in us unused. Now, whether it beBestial oblivion, or some craven scrupleOf thinking too precisely on the event,A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdomAnd ever three parts coward, I do not knowWhy yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;'Sith I have cause and will and strength and meansTo do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me:Witness this army of such mass and chargeLed by a delicate and tender prince,Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'dMakes mouths at the invisible event,Exposing what is mortal and unsureTo all that fortune, death and danger dare,Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be greatIs not to stir without great argument,But greatly to find quarrel in a strawWhen honour's at the stake. How stand I then,That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,Excitements of my reason and my blood,And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I seeThe imminent death of twenty thousand men,That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plotWhereon the numbers cannot try the cause,Which is not tomb enough and continentTo hide the slain? O, from this time forth,My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!
Exit

Scene 5. Elsinore. A room in the castle.[edit]

Enter Queen Gertrude, Horatio, and a Gentleman
Queen GertrudeI will not speak with her.GentlemanShe is importunate, indeed distract:Her mood will needs be pitied.Queen GertrudeWhat would she have?GentlemanShe speaks much of her father; says she hearsThere's tricks i' the world; and hems, and beats her heart;Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt,That carry but half sense: her speech is nothing,Yet the unshaped use of it doth moveThe hearers to collection; they aim at it,And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts;Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield them,Indeed would make one think there might be thought,Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily.Horatio'Twere good she were spoken with; for she may strewDangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds.Queen GertrudeLet her come in.
Exit HORATIO
To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is,Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss:So full of artless jealousy is guilt,It spills itself in fearing to be spilt.
Re-enter HORATIO, with OPHELIA



A mad Ophelia, by Delacroix.OpheliaWhere is the beauteous majesty of Denmark?Queen GertrudeHow now, Ophelia!OpheliaSingsHow should I your true love knowFrom another one?By his cockle hat and staff,And his sandal shoon.Queen GertrudeAlas, sweet lady, what imports this song?OpheliaSay you? nay, pray you, mark.
Sings
He is dead and gone, lady,He is dead and gone;At his head a grass-green turf,At his heels a stone.Queen GertrudeNay, but, Ophelia,--OpheliaPray you, mark.
Sings
White his shroud as the mountain snow,--
Enter KING CLAUDIUS

Queen GertrudeAlas, look here, my lord.OpheliaSingsLarded with sweet flowersWhich bewept to the grave did goWith true-love showers.King ClaudiusHow do you, pretty lady?OpheliaWell, God 'ild you! They say the owl was a baker'sdaughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know notwhat we may be. God be at your table!King ClaudiusConceit upon her father.OpheliaPray you, let's have no words of this; but when theyask you what it means, say you this:
Sings
To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day,All in the morning betime,And I a maid at your window,To be your Valentine.Then up he rose, and donn'd his clothes,And dupp'd the chamber-door;Let in the maid, that out a maidNever departed more.King ClaudiusPretty Ophelia!OpheliaIndeed, la, without an oath, I'll make an end on't:
Sings
By Gis and by Saint Charity,Alack, and fie for shame!Young men will do't, if they come to't;By cock, they are to blame.Quoth she, before you tumbled me,You promised me to wed.So would I ha' done, by yonder sun,An thou hadst not come to my bed.King ClaudiusHow long hath she been thus?OpheliaI hope all will be well. We must be patient: but Icannot choose but weep, to think they should lay himi' the cold ground. My brother shall know of it:and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, mycoach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies;good night, good night.
Exit

King ClaudiusFollow her close; give her good watch,I pray you.
Exit HORATIO
O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springsAll from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude,When sorrows come, they come not single spiesBut in battalions. First, her father slain:Next, your son gone; and he most violent authorOf his own just remove: the people muddied,Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers,For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,In hugger-mugger to inter him: poor OpheliaDivided from herself and her fair judgment,Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts:Last, and as much containing as all these,Her brother is in secret come from France;Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,And wants not buzzers to infect his earWith pestilent speeches of his father's death;Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,Will nothing stick our person to arraignIn ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,Like to a murdering-piece, in many placesGives me superfluous death.
A noise within

Queen GertrudeAlack, what noise is this?King ClaudiusWhere are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.
Enter another Gentleman
What is the matter?GentlemanSave yourself, my lord:The ocean, overpeering of his list,Eats not the flats with more impetuous hasteThan young Laertes, in a riotous head,O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him lord;And, as the world were now but to begin,Antiquity forgot, custom not known,The ratifiers and props of every word,They cry 'Choose we: Laertes shall be king:'Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds:'Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!'Queen GertrudeHow cheerfully on the false trail they cry!O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!King ClaudiusThe doors are broke.

Noise within Enter LAERTES, armed; Danes following

LaertesWhere is this king? Sirs, stand you all without.DanesNo, let's come in.LaertesI pray you, give me leave.DanesWe will, we will.
They retire without the door

LaertesI thank you: keep the door. O thou vile king,Give me my father!Queen GertrudeCalmly, good Laertes.LaertesThat drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard,Cries cuckold to my father, brands the harlotEven here, between the chaste unsmirched browOf my true mother.King ClaudiusWhat is the cause, Laertes,That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person:There's such divinity doth hedge a king,That treason can but peep to what it would,Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes,Why thou art thus incensed. Let him go, Gertrude.Speak, man.LaertesWhere is my father?King ClaudiusDead.Queen GertrudeBut not by him.King ClaudiusLet him demand his fill.LaertesHow came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil!Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit!I dare damnation. To this point I stand,That both the worlds I give to negligence,Let come what comes; only I'll be revengedMost thoroughly for my father.King ClaudiusWho shall stay you?LaertesMy will, not all the world:And for my means, I'll husband them so well,They shall go far with little.King ClaudiusGood Laertes,If you desire to know the certaintyOf your dear father's death, is't writ in your revenge,That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe,Winner and loser?LaertesNone but his enemies.King ClaudiusWill you know them then?LaertesTo his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms;And like the kind life-rendering pelican,Repast them with my blood.King ClaudiusWhy, now you speakLike a good child and a true gentleman.That I am guiltless of your father's death,And am most sensible in grief for it,It shall as level to your judgment pierceAs day does to your eye.DanesWithin Let her come in.LaertesHow now! what noise is that?
Re-enter OPHELIA
O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight,Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May!Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!O heavens! is't possible, a young maid's witsShould be as mortal as an old man's life?Nature is fine in love, and where 'tis fine,It sends some precious instance of itselfAfter the thing it loves.OpheliaSingsThey bore him barefaced on the bier;Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny;And in his grave rain'd many a tear:--Fare you well, my dove!LaertesHadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,It could not move thus.OpheliaSingsYou must sing a-down a-down,An you call him a-down-a.O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the falsesteward, that stole his master's daughter.LaertesThis nothing's more than matter.OpheliaThere's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray,love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts.LaertesA document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted.OpheliaThere's fennel for you, and columbines: there's ruefor you; and here's some for me: we may call itherb-grace o' Sundays: O you must wear your rue witha difference. There's a daisy: I would give yousome violets, but they withered all when my fatherdied: they say he made a good end,--
Sings
For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.LaertesThought and affliction, passion, hell itself,She turns to favour and to prettiness.OpheliaSingsAnd will he not come again?And will he not come again?No, no, he is dead:Go to thy death-bed:He never will come again.His beard was as white as snow,All flaxen was his poll:He is gone, he is gone,And we cast away moan:God ha' mercy on his soul!And of all Christian souls, I pray God. God be wi' ye.
Exit

LaertesDo you see this, O God?King ClaudiusLaertes, I must commune with your grief,Or you deny me right. Go but apart,Make choice of whom your wisest friends you will.And they shall hear and judge 'twixt you and me:If by direct or by collateral handThey find us touch'd, we will our kingdom give,Our crown, our life, and all that we call ours,To you in satisfaction; but if not,Be you content to lend your patience to us,And we shall jointly labour with your soulTo give it due content.LaertesLet this be so;His means of death, his obscure funeral--No trophy, sword, nor hatchment o'er his bones,No noble rite nor formal ostentation--Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth,That I must call't in question.King ClaudiusSo you shall;And where the offence is let the great axe fall.I pray you, go with me.
Exeunt

Scene 6. Another room in the castle.[edit]

Enter Horatio and a Servant
HoratioWhat are they that would speak with me?ServantSailors, sir: they say they have letters for you.HoratioLet them come in.
Exit Servant
I do not know from what part of the worldI should be greeted, if not from Lord Hamlet.
Enter Sailors
First SailorGod bless you, sir.HoratioLet him bless thee too.First SailorHe shall, sir, an't please him. There's a letter foryou, sir; it comes from the ambassador that wasbound for England; if your name be Horatio, as I amlet to know it is.HoratioReads 'Horatio, when thou shalt have overlookedthis, give these fellows some means to the king:they have letters for him. Ere we were two days oldat sea, a pirate of very warlike appointment gave uschase. Finding ourselves too slow of sail, we put ona compelled valour, and in the grapple I boardedthem: on the instant they got clear of our ship; soI alone became their prisoner. They have dealt withme like thieves of mercy: but they knew what theydid; I am to do a good turn for them. Let the kinghave the letters I have sent; and repair thou to mewith as much speed as thou wouldst fly death. Ihave words to speak in thine ear will make theedumb; yet are they much too light for the bore ofthe matter. These good fellows will bring theewhere I am. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern hold theircourse for England: of them I have much to tell thee. Farewell.'He that thou knowest thine, HAMLET.'Come, I will make you way for these your letters;And do't the speedier, that you may direct meTo him from whom you brought them.
Exeunt

Scene 7. Another room in the castle.[edit]

Enter KING CLAUDIUS and LAERTES

King ClaudiusNow must your conscience my acquaintance seal,And you must put me in your heart for friend,Sith you have heard, and with a knowing ear,That he which hath your noble father slainPursued my life.LaertesIt well appears: but tell meWhy you proceeded not against these feats,So crimeful and so capital in nature,As by your safety, wisdom, all things else,You mainly were stirr'd up.King ClaudiusO, for two special reasons;Which may to you, perhaps, seem much unsinew'd,But yet to me they are strong. The queen his motherLives almost by his looks; and for myself--My virtue or my plague, be it either which--She's so conjunctive to my life and soul,That, as the star moves not but in his sphere,I could not but by her. The other motive,Why to a public count I might not go,Is the great love the general gender bear him;Who, dipping all his faults in their affection,Would, like the spring that turneth wood to stone,Convert his gyves to graces; so that my arrows,Too slightly timber'd for so loud a wind,Would have reverted to my bow again,And not where I had aim'd them.LaertesAnd so have I a noble father lost;A sister driven into desperate terms,Whose worth, if praises may go back again,Stood challenger on mount of all the ageFor her perfections: but my revenge will come.King ClaudiusBreak not your sleeps for that: you must not thinkThat we are made of stuff so flat and dullThat we can let our beard be shook with dangerAnd think it pastime. You shortly shall hear more:I loved your father, and we love ourself;And that, I hope, will teach you to imagine--
Enter a Messenger
How now! what news?MessengerLetters, my lord, from Hamlet:This to your majesty; this to the queen.King ClaudiusFrom Hamlet! who brought them?MessengerSailors, my lord, they say; I saw them not:They were given me by Claudio; he received themOf him that brought them.King ClaudiusLaertes, you shall hear them. Leave us.
Exit Messenger Reads
'High and mighty, You shall know I am set naked onyour kingdom. To-morrow shall I beg leave to seeyour kingly eyes: when I shall, first asking yourpardon thereunto, recount the occasion of my suddenand more strange return. 'HAMLET.'What should this mean? Are all the rest come back?Or is it some abuse, and no such thing?LaertesKnow you the hand?King Claudius'Tis Hamlets character. 'Naked!And in a postscript here, he says 'alone.'Can you advise me?LaertesI'm lost in it, my lord. But let him come;It warms the very sickness in my heart,That I shall live and tell him to his teeth,'Thus didest thou.'King ClaudiusIf it be so, Laertes--As how should it be so? how otherwise?--Will you be ruled by me?LaertesAy, my lord;So you will not o'errule me to a peace.King ClaudiusTo thine own peace. If he be now return'd,As checking at his voyage, and that he meansNo more to undertake it, I will work himTo an exploit, now ripe in my device,Under the which he shall not choose but fall:And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe,But even his mother shall uncharge the practiseAnd call it accident.LaertesMy lord, I will be ruled;The rather, if you could devise it soThat I might be the organ.King ClaudiusIt falls right.You have been talk'd of since your travel much,And that in Hamlet's hearing, for a qualityWherein, they say, you shine: your sum of partsDid not together pluck such envy from himAs did that one, and that, in my regard,Of the unworthiest siege.LaertesWhat part is that, my lord?King ClaudiusA very riband in the cap of youth,Yet needful too; for youth no less becomesThe light and careless livery that it wearsThan settled age his sables and his weeds,Importing health and graveness. Two months since,Here was a gentleman of Normandy:--I've seen myself, and served against, the French,And they can well on horseback: but this gallantHad witchcraft in't; he grew unto his seat;And to such wondrous doing brought his horse,As he had been incorpsed and demi-naturedWith the brave beast: so far he topp'd my thought,That I, in forgery of shapes and tricks,Come short of what he did.LaertesA Norman was't?King ClaudiusA Norman.LaertesUpon my life, Lamond.King ClaudiusThe very same.LaertesI know him well: he is the brooch indeedAnd gem of all the nation.King ClaudiusHe made confession of you,And gave you such a masterly reportFor art and exercise in your defenceAnd for your rapier most especially,That he cried out, 'twould be a sight indeed,If one could match you: the scrimers of their nation,He swore, had had neither motion, guard, nor eye,If you opposed them. Sir, this report of hisDid Hamlet so envenom with his envyThat he could nothing do but wish and begYour sudden coming o'er, to play with him.Now, out of this,--LaertesWhat out of this, my lord?King ClaudiusLaertes, was your father dear to you?Or are you like the painting of a sorrow,A face without a heart?LaertesWhy ask you this?King ClaudiusNot that I think you did not love your father;But that I know love is begun by time;And that I see, in passages of proof,Time qualifies the spark and fire of it.There lives within the very flame of loveA kind of wick or snuff that will abate it;And nothing is at a like goodness still;For goodness, growing to a plurisy,Dies in his own too much: that we would doWe should do when we would; for this 'would' changesAnd hath abatements and delays as manyAs there are tongues, are hands, are accidents;And then this 'should' is like a spendthrift sigh,That hurts by easing. But, to the quick o' the ulcer:--Hamlet comes back: what would you undertake,To show yourself your father's son in deedMore than in words?LaertesTo cut his throat i' the church.King ClaudiusNo place, indeed, should murder sanctuarize;Revenge should have no bounds. But, good Laertes,Will you do this, keep close within your chamber.Hamlet return'd shall know you are come home:We'll put on those shall praise your excellenceAnd set a double varnish on the fameThe Frenchman gave you, bring you in fine togetherAnd wager on your heads: he, being remiss,Most generous and free from all contriving,Will not peruse the foils; so that, with ease,Or with a little shuffling, you may chooseA sword unbated, and in a pass of practiseRequite him for your father.LaertesI will do't:And, for that purpose, I'll anoint my sword.I bought an unction of a mountebank,So mortal that, but dip a knife in it,Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,Collected from all simples that have virtueUnder the moon, can save the thing from deathThat is but scratch'd withal: I'll touch my pointWith this contagion, that, if I gall him slightly,It may be death.King ClaudiusLet's further think of this;Weigh what convenience both of time and meansMay fit us to our shape: if this should fail,And that our drift look through our bad performance,'Twere better not assay'd: therefore this projectShould have a back or second, that might hold,If this should blast in proof. Soft! let me see:We'll make a solemn wager on your cunnings: I ha't.When in your motion you are hot and dry--As make your bouts more violent to that end--And that he calls for drink, I'll have prepared himA chalice for the nonce, whereon but sipping,If he by chance escape your venom'd stuck,Our purpose may hold there.
Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE
How now, sweet queen!Queen GertrudeOne woe doth tread upon another's heel,So fast they follow; your sister's drown'd, Laertes.LaertesDrown'd! O, where?Queen Gertrude


Ophelia dies, by John Everett Millais.There is a willow grows aslant a brook,That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream;There with fantastic garlands did she comeOf crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purplesThat liberal shepherds give a grosser name,But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them:There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weedsClambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;When down her weedy trophies and herselfFell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide;And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up:Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes;As one incapable of her own distress,Or like a creature native and induedUnto that element: but long it could not beTill that her garments, heavy with their drink,Pull'd the poor wretch from her melodious layTo muddy death.LaertesAlas, then, she is drown'd?Queen GertrudeDrown'd, drown'd.LaertesToo much of water hast thou, poor Ophelia,And therefore I forbid my tears: but yetIt is our trick; nature her custom holds,Let shame say what it will: when these are gone,The woman will be out. Adieu, my lord:I have a speech of fire, that fain would blaze,But that this folly douts it.
Exit

King ClaudiusLet's follow, Gertrude:How much I had to do to calm his rage!Now fear I this will give it start again;Therefore let's follow.

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Pour AlSvartr et tous mes amis d'ici:


Hello AlSvartr,

Here I am showing an initial arbitrary choose, very low definition picture (300x300 pixels) which I processed step by step having as general goal to clean it up and underline the details by various means.

here is the starting and the final version:


here are the corresponding image to the 6 steps below described:


Where:

1-the haze is a bit wiped.
2-highlighting the very small details
3-highlighting the medium details
4-highlighting the large details
5-tuning the contrasts on 3 level - micro, low and medium.
6- underlining a bit the edges.

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Pour AlSvartr et tous mes amis d'ici:


Hello AlSvartr,

Here I am showing an initial arbitrary choose, very low definition picture (300x300 pixels) which I processed step by step having as general goal to clean it up and underline the details by various means.

here is the starting and the final version:


here are the corresponding image to the 6 steps below described:


Where:

1-the haze is a bit wiped.
2-highlighting the very small details
3-highlighting the medium details
4-highlighting the large details
5-tuning the contrasts on 3 level - micro, low and medium.
6- underlining a bit the edges.

Share this post


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Share on other sites
Scene 1. A churchyard.[edit]

Enter two Clowns, with spades, & pickaxes.

First ClownIs she to be buried in Christian burial whenshe wilfully seeks her own salvation?Second ClownI tell thee she is: and therefore make her gravestraight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds itChristian burial.First ClownHow can that be, unless she drowned herself in herown defence?Second ClownWhy, 'tis found so.First ClownIt must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. Forhere lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly,it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: itis, to act, to do, and to perform. Argal, she drownedherself wittingly.Second ClownNay, but hear you, goodman delver,--First ClownGive me leave. Here lies the water; good: herestands the man; good; if the man go to this water,and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, hegoes,--mark you that; but if the water come to himand drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, hethat is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.Second ClownBut is this law?First ClownAy, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.Second ClownWill you ha' the truth on't? If this had not beena gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'Christian burial.First ClownWhy, there thou say'st: and the more pity thatgreat folk should have countenance in this world todrown or hang themselves, more than their even-Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancientgentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:they hold up Adam's profession.Second ClownWas he a gentleman?First ClownA' was the first that ever bore arms.Second ClownWhy, he had none.First ClownWhat, art a heathen? How dost thou understand theScripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:'could he dig without arms? I'll put anotherquestion to thee: if thou answerest me not to thepurpose, confess thyself--Second ClownGo to.First ClownWhat is he that builds stronger than either themason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?Second ClownThe gallows-maker; for that frame outlives athousand tenants.First ClownI like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallowsdoes well; but how does it well? it does well tothose that do ill: now thou dost ill to say thegallows is built stronger than the church: argal,the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.Second Clown'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, ora carpenter?'First ClownAy, tell me that, and unyoke.Second ClownMarry, now I can tell.First ClownTo't.Second ClownMass, I cannot tell.


Hamlet and Horatio with the clowns. Painting by Delacroix.
Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance

First ClownCudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dullass will not mend his pace with beating; and, whenyou are asked this question next, say 'agrave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last tilldoomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me astoup of liquor.
Exit Second Clown He digs and sings
In youth, when I did love, did love,Methought it was very sweet,To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,O, methought, there was nothing meet.HamletHas this fellow no feeling of his business, that hesings at grave-making?HoratioCustom hath made it in him a property of easiness.Hamlet'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment haththe daintier sense.First ClownSingsBut age, with his stealing steps,Hath claw'd me in his clutch,And hath shipped me intil the land,As if I had never been such.
Throws up a skull

HamletThat skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it wereCain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! Itmight be the pate of a politician, which this assnow o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,might it not?HoratioIt might, my lord.HamletOr of a courtier; which could say 'Good morrow,sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?' This mightbe my lord such-a-one, that praised my lordsuch-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?HoratioAy, my lord.HamletWhy, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, andknocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade:here's fine revolution, an we had the trick tosee't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding,but to play at loggats with 'em? mine ache to think on't.First Clown
Sings
A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,For and a shrouding sheet:O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.
Throws up another skull

HamletThere's another: why may not that be the skull of alawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets,his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does hesuffer this rude knave now to knock him about thesconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him ofhis action of battery? Hum! This fellow might bein's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, andthe recovery of his recoveries, to have his finepate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch himno more of his purchases, and double ones too, thanthe length and breadth of a pair of indentures? Thevery conveyances of his lands will hardly lie inthis box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?HoratioNot a jot more, my lord.HamletIs not parchment made of sheepskins?HoratioAy, my lord, and of calf-skins too.HamletThey are sheep and calves which seek out assurancein that. I will speak to this fellow. Whosegrave's this, sirrah?First ClownMine, sir.
Sings
O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.HamletI think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.First ClownYou lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is notyours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.HamletThou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine:'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.First Clown'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again, from me toyou.HamletWhat man dost thou dig it for?First ClownFor no man, sir.HamletWhat woman, then?First ClownFor none, neither.HamletWho is to be buried in't?First ClownOne that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.HamletHow absolute the knave is! we must speak by thecard, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,Horatio, these three years I have taken a note ofit; the age is grown so picked that the toe of thepeasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, hegaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been agrave-maker?First ClownOf all the days i' the year, I came to't that daythat our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.HamletHow long is that since?First ClownCannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: itwas the very day that young Hamlet was born; he thatis mad, and sent into England.HamletAy, marry, why was he sent into England?First ClownWhy, because he was mad: he shall recover his witsthere; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.HamletWhy?First Clown'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the menare as mad as he.HamletHow came he mad?First ClownVery strangely, they say.HamletHow strangely?First ClownFaith, e'en with losing his wits.HamletUpon what ground?First ClownWhy, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, manand boy, thirty years.HamletHow long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?First ClownI' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as wehave many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarcehold the laying in--he will last you some eight yearor nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.HamletWhy he more than another?First ClownWhy, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, thathe will keep out water a great while; and your wateris a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earththree and twenty years.HamletWhose was it?First ClownA whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?HamletNay, I know not.First ClownA pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured aflagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.HamletThis?First ClownE'en that.HamletLet me see.
Takes the skull
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellowof infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hathborne me on his back a thousand times; and now, howabhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims atit. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I knownot how oft. Where be your gibes now? yourgambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not onenow, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, lether paint an inch thick, to this favour she mustcome; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tellme one thing.HoratioWhat's that, my lord?HamletDost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'the earth?HoratioE'en so.HamletAnd smelt so? pah!
Puts down the skull

HoratioE'en so, my lord.HamletTo what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why maynot imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,till he find it stopping a bung-hole?Horatio'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.HamletNo, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither withmodesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: asthus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; ofearth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto hewas converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.
Enter Priest, &c. in procession; the Corpse of OPHELIA, LAERTES and Mourners following; KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, their trains, &c
The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow?And with such maimed rites? This doth betokenThe corse they follow did with desperate handFordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.Couch we awhile, and mark.
Retiring with HORATIO

LaertesWhat ceremony else?HamletThat is Laertes,A very noble youth: mark.LaertesWhat ceremony else?First PriestHer obsequies have been as far enlargedAs we have warrantise: her death was doubtful;And, but that great command o'ersways the order,She should in ground unsanctified have lodgedTill the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,Her maiden strewments and the bringing homeOf bell and burial.LaertesMust there no more be done?First PriestNo more be done:We should profane the service of the deadTo sing a requiem and such rest to herAs to peace-parted souls.LaertesLay her i' the earth:And from her fair and unpolluted fleshMay violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,A ministering angel shall my sister be,When thou liest howling.HamletWhat, the fair Ophelia!Queen GertrudeSweets to the sweet: farewell!
Scattering flowers
I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,And not have strew'd thy grave.LaertesO, treble woeFall ten times treble on that cursed head,Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious senseDeprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
Leaps into the grave
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,Till of this flat a mountain you have made,To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish headOf blue Olympus.HamletAdvancing What is he whose griefBears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrowConjures the wandering stars, and makes them standLike wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,Hamlet the Dane.
Leaps into the grave

LaertesThe devil take thy soul!


Prince Hamlet and Laertes fight in grave, by Delacroix.
Grappling with him

HamletThou pray'st not well.I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;For, though I am not splenitive and rash,Yet have I something in me dangerous,Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.King ClaudiusPluck them asunder.Queen GertrudeHamlet, Hamlet!AllGentlemen,--HoratioGood my lord, be quiet.
The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave

HamletWhy, I will fight with him upon this themeUntil my eyelids will no longer wag.Queen GertrudeO my son, what theme?HamletI loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?King ClaudiusO, he is mad, Laertes.Queen GertrudeFor love of God, forbear him.Hamlet'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?To outface me with leaping in her grave?Be buried quick with her, and so will I:And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throwMillions of acres on us, till our ground,Singeing his pate against the burning zone,Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,I'll rant as well as thou.Queen GertrudeThis is mere madness:And thus awhile the fit will work on him;Anon, as patient as the female dove,When that her golden couplets are disclosed,His silence will sit drooping.HamletHear you, sir;What is the reason that you use me thus?I loved you ever: but it is no matter;Let Hercules himself do what he may,The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
Exit

King ClaudiusI pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.
Exit HORATIO To LAERTES
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;We'll put the matter to the present push.Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.This grave shall have a living monument:An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt

Scene 2. A hall in the castle.[edit]

Enter Hamlet and Horatio
HamletSo much for this, sir: now shall you see the other;You do remember all the circumstance?HoratioRemember it, my lord?HamletSir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,That would not let me sleep: methought I layWorse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,And praised be rashness for it, let us know,Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach usThere's a divinity that shapes our ends,Rough-hew them how we will,--HoratioThat is most certain.HamletUp from my cabin,My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the darkGroped I to find out them; had my desire.Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrewTo mine own room again; making so bold,My fears forgetting manners, to unsealTheir grand commission; where I found, Horatio,--O royal knavery!--an exact command,Larded with many several sorts of reasonsImporting Denmark's health and England's too,With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,My head should be struck off.HoratioIs't possible?HamletHere's the commission: read it at more leisure.But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?HoratioI beseech you.HamletBeing thus be-netted round with villanies,--Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,They had begun the play--I sat me down,Devised a new commission, wrote it fair:I once did hold it, as our statists do,A baseness to write fair and labour'd muchHow to forget that learning, but, sir, nowIt did me yeoman's service: wilt thou knowThe effect of what I wrote?HoratioAy, good my lord.HamletAn earnest conjuration from the king,As England was his faithful tributary,As love between them like the palm might flourish,As peace should stiff her wheaten garland wearAnd stand a comma 'tween their amities,And many such-like 'As'es of great charge,That, on the view and knowing of these contents,Without debatement further, more or less,He should the bearers put to sudden death,Not shriving-time allow'd.HoratioHow was this seal'd?HamletWhy, even in that was heaven ordinant.I had my father's signet in my purse,Which was the model of that Danish seal;Folded the writ up in form of the other,Subscribed it, gave't the impression, placed it safely,The changeling never known. Now, the next dayWas our sea-fight; and what to this was sequentThou know'st already.HoratioSo Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.HamletWhy, man, they did make love to this employment;They are not near my conscience; their defeatDoes by their own insinuation grow:'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comesBetween the pass and fell incensed pointsOf mighty opposites.HoratioWhy, what a king is this!HamletDoes it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon--He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother,Popp'd in between the election and my hopes,Thrown out his angle for my proper life,And with such cozenage--is't not perfect conscience,To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd,To let this canker of our nature comeIn further evil?HoratioIt must be shortly known to him from EnglandWhat is the issue of the business there.HamletIt will be short: the interim is mine;And a man's life's no more than to say 'One.'But I am very sorry, good Horatio,That to Laertes I forgot myself;For, by the image of my cause, I seeThe portraiture of his: I'll court his favours.But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put meInto a towering passion.HoratioPeace! who comes here?
Enter OSRIC

OsricYour lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.HamletI humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this water-fly?HoratioNo, my good lord.HamletThy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice toknow him. He hath much land, and fertile: let abeast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand atthe king's mess: 'tis a chough; but, as I say,spacious in the possession of dirt.OsricSweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, Ishould impart a thing to you from his majesty.HamletI will receive it, sir, with all diligence ofspirit. Put your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.OsricI thank your lordship, it is very hot.HamletNo, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind isnortherly.OsricIt is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.HamletBut yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for mycomplexion.OsricExceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,--as'twere,--I cannot tell how. But, my lord, hismajesty bade me signify to you that he has laid agreat wager on your head: sir, this is the matter,--HamletI beseech you, remember--
HAMLET moves him to put on his hat

OsricNay, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith.Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believeme, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellentdifferences, of very soft society and great showing:indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card orcalendar of gentry, for you shall find in him thecontinent of what part a gentleman would see.HamletSir, his definement suffers no perdition in you;though, I know, to divide him inventorially woulddizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yawneither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in theverity of extolment, I take him to be a soul ofgreat article; and his infusion of such dearth andrareness, as, to make true diction of him, hissemblable is his mirror; and who else would tracehim, his umbrage, nothing more.OsricYour lordship speaks most infallibly of him.HamletThe concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the gentlemanin our more rawer breath?OsricSir?HoratioIs't not possible to understand in another tongue?You will do't, sir, really.HamletWhat imports the nomination of this gentleman?OsricOf Laertes?HoratioHis purse is empty already; all's golden words are spent.HamletOf him, sir.OsricI know you are not ignorant--HamletI would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did,it would not much approve me. Well, sir?OsricYou are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is--HamletI dare not confess that, lest I should compare withhim in excellence; but, to know a man well, were toknow himself.OsricI mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputationlaid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.HamletWhat's his weapon?OsricRapier and dagger.HamletThat's two of his weapons: but, well.OsricThe king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbaryhorses: against the which he has imponed, as I takeit, six French rapiers and poniards, with theirassigns, as girdle, hangers, and so: three of thecarriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, veryresponsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages,and of very liberal conceit.HamletWhat call you the carriages?HoratioI knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done.OsricThe carriages, sir, are the hangers.HamletThe phrase would be more german to the matter, if wecould carry cannon by our sides: I would it mightbe hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horsesagainst six French swords, their assigns, and threeliberal-conceited carriages; that's the French betagainst the Danish. Why is this 'imponed,' as you call it?OsricThe king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passesbetween yourself and him, he shall not exceed youthree hits: he hath laid on twelve for nine; and itwould come to immediate trial, if your lordshipwould vouchsafe the answer.HamletHow if I answer 'no'?OsricI mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.HamletSir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please hismajesty, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; letthe foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and theking hold his purpose, I will win for him an I can;if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.OsricShall I re-deliver you e'en so?HamletTo this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.OsricI commend my duty to your lordship.HamletYours, yours.
Exit OSRIC
He does well to commend it himself; there are notongues else for's turn.HoratioThis lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.HamletHe did comply with his dug, before he sucked it.Thus has he--and many more of the same bevy that Iknow the dressy age dotes on--only got the tune ofthe time and outward habit of encounter; a kind ofyesty collection, which carries them through andthrough the most fond and winnowed opinions; and dobut blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.
Enter a Lord

LordMy lord, his majesty commended him to you by youngOsric, who brings back to him that you attend him inthe hall: he sends to know if your pleasure hold toplay with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.HamletI am constant to my purpose; they follow the king'spleasure: if his fitness speaks, mine is ready; nowor whensoever, provided I be so able as now.LordThe king and queen and all are coming down.HamletIn happy time.LordThe queen desires you to use some gentleentertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.HamletShe well instructs me.
Exit Lord

HoratioYou will lose this wager, my lord.HamletI do not think so: since he went into France, Ihave been in continual practise: I shall win at theodds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's hereabout my heart: but it is no matter.HoratioNay, good my lord,--HamletIt is but foolery; but it is such a kind ofgain-giving, as would perhaps trouble a woman.HoratioIf your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I willforestall their repair hither, and say you are notfit.HamletNot a whit, we defy augury: there's a specialprovidence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will benow; if it be not now, yet it will come: thereadiness is all: since no man has aught of what heleaves, what is't to leave betimes? Let be.
Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, LAERTES, Lords, OSRIC, and Attendants with foils, &c

King ClaudiusCome, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
KING CLAUDIUS puts LAERTES' hand into HAMLET's

HamletGive me your pardon, sir: I've done you wrong;But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.This presence knows,And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'dWith sore distraction. What I have done,That might your nature, honour and exceptionRoughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet:If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so,Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.Sir, in this audience,Let my disclaiming from a purposed evilFree me so far in your most generous thoughts,That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,And hurt my brother.LaertesI am satisfied in nature,Whose motive, in this case, should stir me mostTo my revenge: but in my terms of honourI stand aloof; and will no reconcilement,Till by some elder masters, of known honour,I have a voice and precedent of peace,To keep my name ungored. But till that time,I do receive your offer'd love like love,And will not wrong it.HamletI embrace it freely;And will this brother's wager frankly play.Give us the foils. Come on.LaertesCome, one for me.HamletI'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignoranceYour skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night,Stick fiery off indeed.LaertesYou mock me, sir.HamletNo, by this hand.King ClaudiusGive them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,You know the wager?HamletVery well, my lord;Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.King ClaudiusI do not fear it; I have seen you both:But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.LaertesThis is too heavy, let me see another.HamletThis likes me well. These foils have all a length?
They prepare to play

OsricAy, my good lord.King ClaudiusSet me the stoops of wine upon that table.If Hamlet give the first or second hit,Or quit in answer of the third exchange,Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;And in the cup an union shall he throw,Richer than that which four successive kingsIn Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,The trumpet to the cannoneer without,The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,'Now the king drinks to Hamlet.' Come, begin:And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.HamletCome on, sir.LaertesCome, my lord.
They play

HamletOne.LaertesNo.HamletJudgment.OsricA hit, a very palpable hit.LaertesWell; again.King ClaudiusStay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;Here's to thy health.
Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within
Give him the cup.HamletI'll play this bout first; set it by awhile. Come.
They play
Another hit; what say you?LaertesA touch, a touch, I do confess.King ClaudiusOur son shall win.Queen GertrudeHe's fat, and scant of breath.Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows;The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.HamletGood madam!King ClaudiusGertrude, do not drink.Queen GertrudeI will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.King ClaudiusAside It is the poison'd cup: it is too late.HamletI dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.Queen GertrudeCome, let me wipe thy face.LaertesMy lord, I'll hit him now.King ClaudiusI do not think't.LaertesAside And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.HamletCome, for the third, Laertes: you but dally;I pray you, pass with your best violence;I am afeard you make a wanton of me.LaertesSay you so? come on.
They play

OsricNothing, neither way.LaertesHave at you now!
LAERTES wounds HAMLET; then in scuffling, they change rapiers, and HAMLET wounds LAERTES

King ClaudiusPart them; they are incensed.HamletNay, come, again.
QUEEN GERTRUDE falls

OsricLook to the queen there, ho!HoratioThey bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?OsricHow is't, Laertes?LaertesWhy, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric;I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.HamletHow does the queen?King ClaudiusShe swounds to see them bleed.Queen GertrudeNo, no, the drink, the drink,--O my dear Hamlet,--The drink, the drink! I am poison'd.
Dies

HamletO villany! Ho! let the door be lock'd:Treachery! Seek it out.LaertesIt is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain;No medicine in the world can do thee good;In thee there is not half an hour of life;The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practiseHath turn'd itself on me lo, here I lie,Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd:I can no more: the king, the king's to blame.HamletThe point!--envenom'd too!Then, venom, to thy work.
Stabs KING CLAUDIUS

AllTreason! treason!King ClaudiusO, yet defend me, friends; I am but hurt.


Hamlet kill his uncle, the King Claudius, by Moreau.HamletHere, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?Follow my mother.
KING CLAUDIUS dies

LaertesHe is justly served;It is a poison temper'd by himself.Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,Nor thine on me.
Dies

HamletHeaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!You that look pale and tremble at this chance,That are but mutes or audience to this act,Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death,Is strict in his arrest--O, I could tell you--But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;Thou livest; report me and my cause arightTo the unsatisfied.HoratioNever believe it:I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:Here's yet some liquor left.HamletAs thou'rt a man,Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't.O good Horatio, what a wounded name,Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!If thou didst ever hold me in thy heartAbsent thee from felicity awhile,And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,To tell my story.
March afar off, and shot within
What warlike noise is this?OsricYoung Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,To the ambassadors of England givesThis warlike volley.HamletO, I die, Horatio;The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit:I cannot live to hear the news from England;But I do prophesy the election lightsOn Fortinbras: he has my dying voice;So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,Which have solicited. The rest is silence.
Dies

HoratioNow cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!Why does the drum come hither?

March within Enter FORTINBRAS, the English Ambassadors, and others

Prince FortinbrasWhere is this sight?HoratioWhat is it ye would see?If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.Prince FortinbrasThis quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,That thou so many princes at a shotSo bloodily hast struck?First AmbassadorThe sight is dismal;And our affairs from England come too late:The ears are senseless that should give us hearing,To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:Where should we have our thanks?HoratioNot from his mouth,Had it the ability of life to thank you:He never gave commandment for their death.But since, so jump upon this bloody question,You from the Polack wars, and you from England,Are here arrived give order that these bodiesHigh on a stage be placed to the view;And let me speak to the yet unknowing worldHow these things came about: so shall you hearOf carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,And, in this upshot, purposes mistookFall'n on the inventors' heads: all this can ITruly deliver.Prince FortinbrasLet us haste to hear it,And call the noblest to the audience.For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune:I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.HoratioOf that I shall have also cause to speak,And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more;But let this same be presently perform'd,Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischanceOn plots and errors, happen.Prince FortinbrasLet four captainsBear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;For he was likely, had he been put on,To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,The soldiers' music and the rites of warSpeak loudly for him.Take up the bodies: such a sight as thisBecomes the field, but here shows much amiss.Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off

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Pour AlSvartr et tous mes amis d'ici:


Hello AlSvartr,

Here I am showing an initial arbitrary choose, very low definition picture (300x300 pixels) which I processed step by step having as general goal to clean it up and underline the details by various means.

here is the starting and the final version:


here are the corresponding image to the 6 steps below described:


Where:

1-the haze is a bit wiped.
2-highlighting the very small details
3-highlighting the medium details
4-highlighting the large details
5-tuning the contrasts on 3 level - micro, low and medium.
6- underlining a bit the edges.

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Scene 1. A churchyard.[edit]

Enter two Clowns, with spades, & pickaxes.

First ClownIs she to be buried in Christian burial whenshe wilfully seeks her own salvation?Second ClownI tell thee she is: and therefore make her gravestraight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds itChristian burial.First ClownHow can that be, unless she drowned herself in herown defence?Second ClownWhy, 'tis found so.First ClownIt must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. Forhere lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly,it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: itis, to act, to do, and to perform. Argal, she drownedherself wittingly.Second ClownNay, but hear you, goodman delver,--First ClownGive me leave. Here lies the water; good: herestands the man; good; if the man go to this water,and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, hegoes,--mark you that; but if the water come to himand drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, hethat is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.Second ClownBut is this law?First ClownAy, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.Second ClownWill you ha' the truth on't? If this had not beena gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'Christian burial.First ClownWhy, there thou say'st: and the more pity thatgreat folk should have countenance in this world todrown or hang themselves, more than their even-Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancientgentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:they hold up Adam's profession.Second ClownWas he a gentleman?First ClownA' was the first that ever bore arms.Second ClownWhy, he had none.First ClownWhat, art a heathen? How dost thou understand theScripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:'could he dig without arms? I'll put anotherquestion to thee: if thou answerest me not to thepurpose, confess thyself--Second ClownGo to.First ClownWhat is he that builds stronger than either themason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?Second ClownThe gallows-maker; for that frame outlives athousand tenants.First ClownI like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallowsdoes well; but how does it well? it does well tothose that do ill: now thou dost ill to say thegallows is built stronger than the church: argal,the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.Second Clown'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, ora carpenter?'First ClownAy, tell me that, and unyoke.Second ClownMarry, now I can tell.First ClownTo't.Second ClownMass, I cannot tell.


Hamlet and Horatio with the clowns. Painting by Delacroix.
Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance

First ClownCudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dullass will not mend his pace with beating; and, whenyou are asked this question next, say 'agrave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last tilldoomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me astoup of liquor.
Exit Second Clown He digs and sings
In youth, when I did love, did love,Methought it was very sweet,To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,O, methought, there was nothing meet.HamletHas this fellow no feeling of his business, that hesings at grave-making?HoratioCustom hath made it in him a property of easiness.Hamlet'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment haththe daintier sense.First ClownSingsBut age, with his stealing steps,Hath claw'd me in his clutch,And hath shipped me intil the land,As if I had never been such.
Throws up a skull

HamletThat skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it wereCain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! Itmight be the pate of a politician, which this assnow o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,might it not?HoratioIt might, my lord.HamletOr of a courtier; which could say 'Good morrow,sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?' This mightbe my lord such-a-one, that praised my lordsuch-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?HoratioAy, my lord.HamletWhy, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, andknocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade:here's fine revolution, an we had the trick tosee't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding,but to play at loggats with 'em? mine ache to think on't.First Clown
Sings
A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,For and a shrouding sheet:O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.
Throws up another skull

HamletThere's another: why may not that be the skull of alawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets,his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does hesuffer this rude knave now to knock him about thesconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him ofhis action of battery? Hum! This fellow might bein's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, andthe recovery of his recoveries, to have his finepate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch himno more of his purchases, and double ones too, thanthe length and breadth of a pair of indentures? Thevery conveyances of his lands will hardly lie inthis box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?HoratioNot a jot more, my lord.HamletIs not parchment made of sheepskins?HoratioAy, my lord, and of calf-skins too.HamletThey are sheep and calves which seek out assurancein that. I will speak to this fellow. Whosegrave's this, sirrah?First ClownMine, sir.
Sings
O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.HamletI think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.First ClownYou lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is notyours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.HamletThou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine:'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.First Clown'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again, from me toyou.HamletWhat man dost thou dig it for?First ClownFor no man, sir.HamletWhat woman, then?First ClownFor none, neither.HamletWho is to be buried in't?First ClownOne that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.HamletHow absolute the knave is! we must speak by thecard, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,Horatio, these three years I have taken a note ofit; the age is grown so picked that the toe of thepeasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, hegaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been agrave-maker?First ClownOf all the days i' the year, I came to't that daythat our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.HamletHow long is that since?First ClownCannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: itwas the very day that young Hamlet was born; he thatis mad, and sent into England.HamletAy, marry, why was he sent into England?First ClownWhy, because he was mad: he shall recover his witsthere; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.HamletWhy?First Clown'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the menare as mad as he.HamletHow came he mad?First ClownVery strangely, they say.HamletHow strangely?First ClownFaith, e'en with losing his wits.HamletUpon what ground?First ClownWhy, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, manand boy, thirty years.HamletHow long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?First ClownI' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as wehave many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarcehold the laying in--he will last you some eight yearor nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.HamletWhy he more than another?First ClownWhy, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, thathe will keep out water a great while; and your wateris a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earththree and twenty years.HamletWhose was it?First ClownA whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?HamletNay, I know not.First ClownA pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured aflagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.HamletThis?First ClownE'en that.HamletLet me see.
Takes the skull
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellowof infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hathborne me on his back a thousand times; and now, howabhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims atit. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I knownot how oft. Where be your gibes now? yourgambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not onenow, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, lether paint an inch thick, to this favour she mustcome; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tellme one thing.HoratioWhat's that, my lord?HamletDost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'the earth?HoratioE'en so.HamletAnd smelt so? pah!
Puts down the skull

HoratioE'en so, my lord.HamletTo what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why maynot imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,till he find it stopping a bung-hole?Horatio'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.HamletNo, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither withmodesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: asthus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; ofearth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto hewas converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.
Enter Priest, &c. in procession; the Corpse of OPHELIA, LAERTES and Mourners following; KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, their trains, &c
The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow?And with such maimed rites? This doth betokenThe corse they follow did with desperate handFordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.Couch we awhile, and mark.
Retiring with HORATIO

LaertesWhat ceremony else?HamletThat is Laertes,A very noble youth: mark.LaertesWhat ceremony else?First PriestHer obsequies have been as far enlargedAs we have warrantise: her death was doubtful;And, but that great command o'ersways the order,She should in ground unsanctified have lodgedTill the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,Her maiden strewments and the bringing homeOf bell and burial.LaertesMust there no more be done?First PriestNo more be done:We should profane the service of the deadTo sing a requiem and such rest to herAs to peace-parted souls.LaertesLay her i' the earth:And from her fair and unpolluted fleshMay violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,A ministering angel shall my sister be,When thou liest howling.HamletWhat, the fair Ophelia!Queen GertrudeSweets to the sweet: farewell!
Scattering flowers
I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,And not have strew'd thy grave.LaertesO, treble woeFall ten times treble on that cursed head,Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious senseDeprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
Leaps into the grave
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,Till of this flat a mountain you have made,To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish headOf blue Olympus.HamletAdvancing What is he whose griefBears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrowConjures the wandering stars, and makes them standLike wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,Hamlet the Dane.
Leaps into the grave

LaertesThe devil take thy soul!


Prince Hamlet and Laertes fight in grave, by Delacroix.
Grappling with him

HamletThou pray'st not well.I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;For, though I am not splenitive and rash,Yet have I something in me dangerous,Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.King ClaudiusPluck them asunder.Queen GertrudeHamlet, Hamlet!AllGentlemen,--HoratioGood my lord, be quiet.
The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave

HamletWhy, I will fight with him upon this themeUntil my eyelids will no longer wag.Queen GertrudeO my son, what theme?HamletI loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?King ClaudiusO, he is mad, Laertes.Queen GertrudeFor love of God, forbear him.Hamlet'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?To outface me with leaping in her grave?Be buried quick with her, and so will I:And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throwMillions of acres on us, till our ground,Singeing his pate against the burning zone,Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,I'll rant as well as thou.Queen GertrudeThis is mere madness:And thus awhile the fit will work on him;Anon, as patient as the female dove,When that her golden couplets are disclosed,His silence will sit drooping.HamletHear you, sir;What is the reason that you use me thus?I loved you ever: but it is no matter;Let Hercules himself do what he may,The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
Exit

King ClaudiusI pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.
Exit HORATIO To LAERTES
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;We'll put the matter to the present push.Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.This grave shall have a living monument:An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt

Scene 2. A hall in the castle.[edit]

Enter Hamlet and Horatio
HamletSo much for this, sir: now shall you see the other;You do remember all the circumstance?HoratioRemember it, my lord?HamletSir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,That would not let me sleep: methought I layWorse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,And praised be rashness for it, let us know,Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach usThere's a divinity that shapes our ends,Rough-hew them how we will,--HoratioThat is most certain.HamletUp from my cabin,My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the darkGroped I to find out them; had my desire.Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrewTo mine own room again; making so bold,My fears forgetting manners, to unsealTheir grand commission; where I found, Horatio,--O royal knavery!--an exact command,Larded with many several sorts of reasonsImporting Denmark's health and England's too,With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,My head should be struck off.HoratioIs't possible?HamletHere's the commission: read it at more leisure.But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?HoratioI beseech you.HamletBeing thus be-netted round with villanies,--Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,They had begun the play--I sat me down,Devised a new commission, wrote it fair:I once did hold it, as our statists do,A baseness to write fair and labour'd muchHow to forget that learning, but, sir, nowIt did me yeoman's service: wilt thou knowThe effect of what I wrote?HoratioAy, good my lord.HamletAn earnest conjuration from the king,As England was his faithful tributary,As love between them like the palm might flourish,As peace should stiff her wheaten garland wearAnd stand a comma 'tween their amities,And many such-like 'As'es of great charge,That, on the view and knowing of these contents,Without debatement further, more or less,He should the bearers put to sudden death,Not shriving-time allow'd.HoratioHow was this seal'd?HamletWhy, even in that was heaven ordinant.I had my father's signet in my purse,Which was the model of that Danish seal;Folded the writ up in form of the other,Subscribed it, gave't the impression, placed it safely,The changeling never known. Now, the next dayWas our sea-fight; and what to this was sequentThou know'st already.HoratioSo Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.HamletWhy, man, they did make love to this employment;They are not near my conscience; their defeatDoes by their own insinuation grow:'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comesBetween the pass and fell incensed pointsOf mighty opposites.HoratioWhy, what a king is this!HamletDoes it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon--He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother,Popp'd in between the election and my hopes,Thrown out his angle for my proper life,And with such cozenage--is't not perfect conscience,To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd,To let this canker of our nature comeIn further evil?HoratioIt must be shortly known to him from EnglandWhat is the issue of the business there.HamletIt will be short: the interim is mine;And a man's life's no more than to say 'One.'But I am very sorry, good Horatio,That to Laertes I forgot myself;For, by the image of my cause, I seeThe portraiture of his: I'll court his favours.But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put meInto a towering passion.HoratioPeace! who comes here?
Enter OSRIC

OsricYour lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.HamletI humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this water-fly?HoratioNo, my good lord.HamletThy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice toknow him. He hath much land, and fertile: let abeast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand atthe king's mess: 'tis a chough; but, as I say,spacious in the possession of dirt.OsricSweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, Ishould impart a thing to you from his majesty.HamletI will receive it, sir, with all diligence ofspirit. Put your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.OsricI thank your lordship, it is very hot.HamletNo, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind isnortherly.OsricIt is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.HamletBut yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for mycomplexion.OsricExceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,--as'twere,--I cannot tell how. But, my lord, hismajesty bade me signify to you that he has laid agreat wager on your head: sir, this is the matter,--HamletI beseech you, remember--
HAMLET moves him to put on his hat

OsricNay, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith.Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believeme, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellentdifferences, of very soft society and great showing:indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card orcalendar of gentry, for you shall find in him thecontinent of what part a gentleman would see.HamletSir, his definement suffers no perdition in you;though, I know, to divide him inventorially woulddizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yawneither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in theverity of extolment, I take him to be a soul ofgreat article; and his infusion of such dearth andrareness, as, to make true diction of him, hissemblable is his mirror; and who else would tracehim, his umbrage, nothing more.OsricYour lordship speaks most infallibly of him.HamletThe concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the gentlemanin our more rawer breath?OsricSir?HoratioIs't not possible to understand in another tongue?You will do't, sir, really.HamletWhat imports the nomination of this gentleman?OsricOf Laertes?HoratioHis purse is empty already; all's golden words are spent.HamletOf him, sir.OsricI know you are not ignorant--HamletI would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did,it would not much approve me. Well, sir?OsricYou are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is--HamletI dare not confess that, lest I should compare withhim in excellence; but, to know a man well, were toknow himself.OsricI mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputationlaid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.HamletWhat's his weapon?OsricRapier and dagger.HamletThat's two of his weapons: but, well.OsricThe king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbaryhorses: against the which he has imponed, as I takeit, six French rapiers and poniards, with theirassigns, as girdle, hangers, and so: three of thecarriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, veryresponsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages,and of very liberal conceit.HamletWhat call you the carriages?HoratioI knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done.OsricThe carriages, sir, are the hangers.HamletThe phrase would be more german to the matter, if wecould carry cannon by our sides: I would it mightbe hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horsesagainst six French swords, their assigns, and threeliberal-conceited carriages; that's the French betagainst the Danish. Why is this 'imponed,' as you call it?OsricThe king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passesbetween yourself and him, he shall not exceed youthree hits: he hath laid on twelve for nine; and itwould come to immediate trial, if your lordshipwould vouchsafe the answer.HamletHow if I answer 'no'?OsricI mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.HamletSir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please hismajesty, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; letthe foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and theking hold his purpose, I will win for him an I can;if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.OsricShall I re-deliver you e'en so?HamletTo this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.OsricI commend my duty to your lordship.HamletYours, yours.
Exit OSRIC
He does well to commend it himself; there are notongues else for's turn.HoratioThis lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.HamletHe did comply with his dug, before he sucked it.Thus has he--and many more of the same bevy that Iknow the dressy age dotes on--only got the tune ofthe time and outward habit of encounter; a kind ofyesty collection, which carries them through andthrough the most fond and winnowed opinions; and dobut blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.
Enter a Lord

LordMy lord, his majesty commended him to you by youngOsric, who brings back to him that you attend him inthe hall: he sends to know if your pleasure hold toplay with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.HamletI am constant to my purpose; they follow the king'spleasure: if his fitness speaks, mine is ready; nowor whensoever, provided I be so able as now.LordThe king and queen and all are coming down.HamletIn happy time.LordThe queen desires you to use some gentleentertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.HamletShe well instructs me.
Exit Lord

HoratioYou will lose this wager, my lord.HamletI do not think so: since he went into France, Ihave been in continual practise: I shall win at theodds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's hereabout my heart: but it is no matter.HoratioNay, good my lord,--HamletIt is but foolery; but it is such a kind ofgain-giving, as would perhaps trouble a woman.HoratioIf your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I willforestall their repair hither, and say you are notfit.HamletNot a whit, we defy augury: there's a specialprovidence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will benow; if it be not now, yet it will come: thereadiness is all: since no man has aught of what heleaves, what is't to leave betimes? Let be.
Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, LAERTES, Lords, OSRIC, and Attendants with foils, &c

King ClaudiusCome, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
KING CLAUDIUS puts LAERTES' hand into HAMLET's

HamletGive me your pardon, sir: I've done you wrong;But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.This presence knows,And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'dWith sore distraction. What I have done,That might your nature, honour and exceptionRoughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet:If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so,Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.Sir, in this audience,Let my disclaiming from a purposed evilFree me so far in your most generous thoughts,That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,And hurt my brother.LaertesI am satisfied in nature,Whose motive, in this case, should stir me mostTo my revenge: but in my terms of honourI stand aloof; and will no reconcilement,Till by some elder masters, of known honour,I have a voice and precedent of peace,To keep my name ungored. But till that time,I do receive your offer'd love like love,And will not wrong it.HamletI embrace it freely;And will this brother's wager frankly play.Give us the foils. Come on.LaertesCome, one for me.HamletI'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignoranceYour skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night,Stick fiery off indeed.LaertesYou mock me, sir.HamletNo, by this hand.King ClaudiusGive them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,You know the wager?HamletVery well, my lord;Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.King ClaudiusI do not fear it; I have seen you both:But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.LaertesThis is too heavy, let me see another.HamletThis likes me well. These foils have all a length?
They prepare to play

OsricAy, my good lord.King ClaudiusSet me the stoops of wine upon that table.If Hamlet give the first or second hit,Or quit in answer of the third exchange,Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;And in the cup an union shall he throw,Richer than that which four successive kingsIn Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,The trumpet to the cannoneer without,The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,'Now the king drinks to Hamlet.' Come, begin:And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.HamletCome on, sir.LaertesCome, my lord.
They play

HamletOne.LaertesNo.HamletJudgment.OsricA hit, a very palpable hit.LaertesWell; again.King ClaudiusStay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;Here's to thy health.
Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within
Give him the cup.HamletI'll play this bout first; set it by awhile. Come.
They play
Another hit; what say you?LaertesA touch, a touch, I do confess.King ClaudiusOur son shall win.Queen GertrudeHe's fat, and scant of breath.Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows;The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.HamletGood madam!King ClaudiusGertrude, do not drink.Queen GertrudeI will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.King ClaudiusAside It is the poison'd cup: it is too late.HamletI dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.Queen GertrudeCome, let me wipe thy face.LaertesMy lord, I'll hit him now.King ClaudiusI do not think't.LaertesAside And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.HamletCome, for the third, Laertes: you but dally;I pray you, pass with your best violence;I am afeard you make a wanton of me.LaertesSay you so? come on.
They play

OsricNothing, neither way.LaertesHave at you now!
LAERTES wounds HAMLET; then in scuffling, they change rapiers, and HAMLET wounds LAERTES

King ClaudiusPart them; they are incensed.HamletNay, come, again.
QUEEN GERTRUDE falls

OsricLook to the queen there, ho!HoratioThey bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?OsricHow is't, Laertes?LaertesWhy, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric;I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.HamletHow does the queen?King ClaudiusShe swounds to see them bleed.Queen GertrudeNo, no, the drink, the drink,--O my dear Hamlet,--The drink, the drink! I am poison'd.
Dies

HamletO villany! Ho! let the door be lock'd:Treachery! Seek it out.LaertesIt is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain;No medicine in the world can do thee good;In thee there is not half an hour of life;The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practiseHath turn'd itself on me lo, here I lie,Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd:I can no more: the king, the king's to blame.HamletThe point!--envenom'd too!Then, venom, to thy work.
Stabs KING CLAUDIUS

AllTreason! treason!King ClaudiusO, yet defend me, friends; I am but hurt.


Hamlet kill his uncle, the King Claudius, by Moreau.HamletHere, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?Follow my mother.
KING CLAUDIUS dies

LaertesHe is justly served;It is a poison temper'd by himself.Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,Nor thine on me.
Dies

HamletHeaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!You that look pale and tremble at this chance,That are but mutes or audience to this act,Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death,Is strict in his arrest--O, I could tell you--But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;Thou livest; report me and my cause arightTo the unsatisfied.HoratioNever believe it:I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:Here's yet some liquor left.HamletAs thou'rt a man,Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't.O good Horatio, what a wounded name,Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!If thou didst ever hold me in thy heartAbsent thee from felicity awhile,And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,To tell my story.
March afar off, and shot within
What warlike noise is this?OsricYoung Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,To the ambassadors of England givesThis warlike volley.HamletO, I die, Horatio;The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit:I cannot live to hear the news from England;But I do prophesy the election lightsOn Fortinbras: he has my dying voice;So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,Which have solicited. The rest is silence.
Dies

HoratioNow cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!Why does the drum come hither?

March within Enter FORTINBRAS, the English Ambassadors, and others

Prince FortinbrasWhere is this sight?HoratioWhat is it ye would see?If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.Prince FortinbrasThis quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,That thou so many princes at a shotSo bloodily hast struck?First AmbassadorThe sight is dismal;And our affairs from England come too late:The ears are senseless that should give us hearing,To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:Where should we have our thanks?HoratioNot from his mouth,Had it the ability of life to thank you:He never gave commandment for their death.But since, so jump upon this bloody question,You from the Polack wars, and you from England,Are here arrived give order that these bodiesHigh on a stage be placed to the view;And let me speak to the yet unknowing worldHow these things came about: so shall you hearOf carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,And, in this upshot, purposes mistookFall'n on the inventors' heads: all this can ITruly deliver.Prince FortinbrasLet us haste to hear it,And call the noblest to the audience.For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune:I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.HoratioOf that I shall have also cause to speak,And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more;But let this same be presently perform'd,Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischanceOn plots and errors, happen.Prince FortinbrasLet four captainsBear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;For he was likely, had he been put on,To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,The soldiers' music and the rites of warSpeak loudly for him.Take up the bodies: such a sight as thisBecomes the field, but here shows much amiss.Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off
Scene 1. A churchyard.[edit]

Enter two Clowns, with spades, & pickaxes.

First ClownIs she to be buried in Christian burial whenshe wilfully seeks her own salvation?Second ClownI tell thee she is: and therefore make her gravestraight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds itChristian burial.First ClownHow can that be, unless she drowned herself in herown defence?Second ClownWhy, 'tis found so.First ClownIt must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. Forhere lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly,it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: itis, to act, to do, and to perform. Argal, she drownedherself wittingly.Second ClownNay, but hear you, goodman delver,--First ClownGive me leave. Here lies the water; good: herestands the man; good; if the man go to this water,and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, hegoes,--mark you that; but if the water come to himand drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, hethat is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.Second ClownBut is this law?First ClownAy, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.Second ClownWill you ha' the truth on't? If this had not beena gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'Christian burial.First ClownWhy, there thou say'st: and the more pity thatgreat folk should have countenance in this world todrown or hang themselves, more than their even-Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancientgentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:they hold up Adam's profession.Second ClownWas he a gentleman?First ClownA' was the first that ever bore arms.Second ClownWhy, he had none.First ClownWhat, art a heathen? How dost thou understand theScripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:'could he dig without arms? I'll put anotherquestion to thee: if thou answerest me not to thepurpose, confess thyself--Second ClownGo to.First ClownWhat is he that builds stronger than either themason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?Second ClownThe gallows-maker; for that frame outlives athousand tenants.First ClownI like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallowsdoes well; but how does it well? it does well tothose that do ill: now thou dost ill to say thegallows is built stronger than the church: argal,the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.Second Clown'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, ora carpenter?'First ClownAy, tell me that, and unyoke.Second ClownMarry, now I can tell.First ClownTo't.Second ClownMass, I cannot tell.


Hamlet and Horatio with the clowns. Painting by Delacroix.
Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance

First ClownCudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dullass will not mend his pace with beating; and, whenyou are asked this question next, say 'agrave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last tilldoomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me astoup of liquor.
Exit Second Clown He digs and sings
In youth, when I did love, did love,Methought it was very sweet,To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,O, methought, there was nothing meet.HamletHas this fellow no feeling of his business, that hesings at grave-making?HoratioCustom hath made it in him a property of easiness.Hamlet'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment haththe daintier sense.First ClownSingsBut age, with his stealing steps,Hath claw'd me in his clutch,And hath shipped me intil the land,As if I had never been such.
Throws up a skull

HamletThat skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it wereCain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! Itmight be the pate of a politician, which this assnow o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,might it not?HoratioIt might, my lord.HamletOr of a courtier; which could say 'Good morrow,sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?' This mightbe my lord such-a-one, that praised my lordsuch-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?HoratioAy, my lord.HamletWhy, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, andknocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade:here's fine revolution, an we had the trick tosee't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding,but to play at loggats with 'em? mine ache to think on't.First Clown
Sings
A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,For and a shrouding sheet:O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.
Throws up another skull

HamletThere's another: why may not that be the skull of alawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets,his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does hesuffer this rude knave now to knock him about thesconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him ofhis action of battery? Hum! This fellow might bein's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, andthe recovery of his recoveries, to have his finepate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch himno more of his purchases, and double ones too, thanthe length and breadth of a pair of indentures? Thevery conveyances of his lands will hardly lie inthis box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?HoratioNot a jot more, my lord.HamletIs not parchment made of sheepskins?HoratioAy, my lord, and of calf-skins too.HamletThey are sheep and calves which seek out assurancein that. I will speak to this fellow. Whosegrave's this, sirrah?First ClownMine, sir.
Sings
O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.HamletI think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.First ClownYou lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is notyours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.HamletThou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine:'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.First Clown'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again, from me toyou.HamletWhat man dost thou dig it for?First ClownFor no man, sir.HamletWhat woman, then?First ClownFor none, neither.HamletWho is to be buried in't?First ClownOne that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.HamletHow absolute the knave is! we must speak by thecard, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,Horatio, these three years I have taken a note ofit; the age is grown so picked that the toe of thepeasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, hegaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been agrave-maker?First ClownOf all the days i' the year, I came to't that daythat our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.HamletHow long is that since?First ClownCannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: itwas the very day that young Hamlet was born; he thatis mad, and sent into England.HamletAy, marry, why was he sent into England?First ClownWhy, because he was mad: he shall recover his witsthere; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.HamletWhy?First Clown'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the menare as mad as he.HamletHow came he mad?First ClownVery strangely, they say.HamletHow strangely?First ClownFaith, e'en with losing his wits.HamletUpon what ground?First ClownWhy, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, manand boy, thirty years.HamletHow long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?First ClownI' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as wehave many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarcehold the laying in--he will last you some eight yearor nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.HamletWhy he more than another?First ClownWhy, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, thathe will keep out water a great while; and your wateris a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earththree and twenty years.HamletWhose was it?First ClownA whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?HamletNay, I know not.First ClownA pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured aflagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.HamletThis?First ClownE'en that.HamletLet me see.
Takes the skull
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellowof infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hathborne me on his back a thousand times; and now, howabhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims atit. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I knownot how oft. Where be your gibes now? yourgambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not onenow, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, lether paint an inch thick, to this favour she mustcome; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tellme one thing.HoratioWhat's that, my lord?HamletDost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'the earth?HoratioE'en so.HamletAnd smelt so? pah!
Puts down the skull

HoratioE'en so, my lord.HamletTo what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why maynot imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,till he find it stopping a bung-hole?Horatio'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.HamletNo, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither withmodesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: asthus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; ofearth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto hewas converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.
Enter Priest, &c. in procession; the Corpse of OPHELIA, LAERTES and Mourners following; KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, their trains, &c
The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow?And with such maimed rites? This doth betokenThe corse they follow did with desperate handFordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.Couch we awhile, and mark.
Retiring with HORATIO

LaertesWhat ceremony else?HamletThat is Laertes,A very noble youth: mark.LaertesWhat ceremony else?First PriestHer obsequies have been as far enlargedAs we have warrantise: her death was doubtful;And, but that great command o'ersways the order,She should in ground unsanctified have lodgedTill the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,Her maiden strewments and the bringing homeOf bell and burial.LaertesMust there no more be done?First PriestNo more be done:We should profane the service of the deadTo sing a requiem and such rest to herAs to peace-parted souls.LaertesLay her i' the earth:And from her fair and unpolluted fleshMay violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,A ministering angel shall my sister be,When thou liest howling.HamletWhat, the fair Ophelia!Queen GertrudeSweets to the sweet: farewell!
Scattering flowers
I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,And not have strew'd thy grave.LaertesO, treble woeFall ten times treble on that cursed head,Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious senseDeprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
Leaps into the grave
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,Till of this flat a mountain you have made,To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish headOf blue Olympus.HamletAdvancing What is he whose griefBears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrowConjures the wandering stars, and makes them standLike wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,Hamlet the Dane.
Leaps into the grave

LaertesThe devil take thy soul!


Prince Hamlet and Laertes fight in grave, by Delacroix.
Grappling with him

HamletThou pray'st not well.I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;For, though I am not splenitive and rash,Yet have I something in me dangerous,Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.King ClaudiusPluck them asunder.Queen GertrudeHamlet, Hamlet!AllGentlemen,--HoratioGood my lord, be quiet.
The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave

HamletWhy, I will fight with him upon this themeUntil my eyelids will no longer wag.Queen GertrudeO my son, what theme?HamletI loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?King ClaudiusO, he is mad, Laertes.Queen GertrudeFor love of God, forbear him.Hamlet'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?To outface me with leaping in her grave?Be buried quick with her, and so will I:And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throwMillions of acres on us, till our ground,Singeing his pate against the burning zone,Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,I'll rant as well as thou.Queen GertrudeThis is mere madness:And thus awhile the fit will work on him;Anon, as patient as the female dove,When that her golden couplets are disclosed,His silence will sit drooping.HamletHear you, sir;What is the reason that you use me thus?I loved you ever: but it is no matter;Let Hercules himself do what he may,The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
Exit

King ClaudiusI pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.
Exit HORATIO To LAERTES
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;We'll put the matter to the present push.Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.This grave shall have a living monument:An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt

Scene 2. A hall in the castle.[edit]

Enter Hamlet and Horatio
HamletSo much for this, sir: now shall you see the other;You do remember all the circumstance?HoratioRemember it, my lord?HamletSir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,That would not let me sleep: methought I layWorse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,And praised be rashness for it, let us know,Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach usThere's a divinity that shapes our ends,Rough-hew them how we will,--HoratioThat is most certain.HamletUp from my cabin,My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the darkGroped I to find out them; had my desire.Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrewTo mine own room again; making so bold,My fears forgetting manners, to unsealTheir grand commission; where I found, Horatio,--O royal knavery!--an exact command,Larded with many several sorts of reasonsImporting Denmark's health and England's too,With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,My head should be struck off.HoratioIs't possible?HamletHere's the commission: read it at more leisure.But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?HoratioI beseech you.HamletBeing thus be-netted round with villanies,--Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,They had begun the play--I sat me down,Devised a new commission, wrote it fair:I once did hold it, as our statists do,A baseness to write fair and labour'd muchHow to forget that learning, but, sir, nowIt did me yeoman's service: wilt thou knowThe effect of what I wrote?HoratioAy, good my lord.HamletAn earnest conjuration from the king,As England was his faithful tributary,As love between them like the palm might flourish,As peace should stiff her wheaten garland wearAnd stand a comma 'tween their amities,And many such-like 'As'es of great charge,That, on the view and knowing of these contents,Without debatement further, more or less,He should the bearers put to sudden death,Not shriving-time allow'd.HoratioHow was this seal'd?HamletWhy, even in that was heaven ordinant.I had my father's signet in my purse,Which was the model of that Danish seal;Folded the writ up in form of the other,Subscribed it, gave't the impression, placed it safely,The changeling never known. Now, the next dayWas our sea-fight; and what to this was sequentThou know'st already.HoratioSo Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.HamletWhy, man, they did make love to this employment;They are not near my conscience; their defeatDoes by their own insinuation grow:'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comesBetween the pass and fell incensed pointsOf mighty opposites.HoratioWhy, what a king is this!HamletDoes it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon--He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother,Popp'd in between the election and my hopes,Thrown out his angle for my proper life,And with such cozenage--is't not perfect conscience,To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd,To let this canker of our nature comeIn further evil?HoratioIt must be shortly known to him from EnglandWhat is the issue of the business there.HamletIt will be short: the interim is mine;And a man's life's no more than to say 'One.'But I am very sorry, good Horatio,That to Laertes I forgot myself;For, by the image of my cause, I seeThe portraiture of his: I'll court his favours.But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put meInto a towering passion.HoratioPeace! who comes here?
Enter OSRIC

OsricYour lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.HamletI humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this water-fly?HoratioNo, my good lord.HamletThy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice toknow him. He hath much land, and fertile: let abeast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand atthe king's mess: 'tis a chough; but, as I say,spacious in the possession of dirt.OsricSweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, Ishould impart a thing to you from his majesty.HamletI will receive it, sir, with all diligence ofspirit. Put your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.OsricI thank your lordship, it is very hot.HamletNo, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind isnortherly.OsricIt is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.HamletBut yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for mycomplexion.OsricExceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,--as'twere,--I cannot tell how. But, my lord, hismajesty bade me signify to you that he has laid agreat wager on your head: sir, this is the matter,--HamletI beseech you, remember--
HAMLET moves him to put on his hat

OsricNay, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith.Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believeme, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellentdifferences, of very soft society and great showing:indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card orcalendar of gentry, for you shall find in him thecontinent of what part a gentleman would see.HamletSir, his definement suffers no perdition in you;though, I know, to divide him inventorially woulddizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yawneither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in theverity of extolment, I take him to be a soul ofgreat article; and his infusion of such dearth andrareness, as, to make true diction of him, hissemblable is his mirror; and who else would tracehim, his umbrage, nothing more.OsricYour lordship speaks most infallibly of him.HamletThe concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the gentlemanin our more rawer breath?OsricSir?HoratioIs't not possible to understand in another tongue?You will do't, sir, really.HamletWhat imports the nomination of this gentleman?OsricOf Laertes?HoratioHis purse is empty already; all's golden words are spent.HamletOf him, sir.OsricI know you are not ignorant--HamletI would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did,it would not much approve me. Well, sir?OsricYou are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is--HamletI dare not confess that, lest I should compare withhim in excellence; but, to know a man well, were toknow himself.OsricI mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputationlaid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.HamletWhat's his weapon?OsricRapier and dagger.HamletThat's two of his weapons: but, well.OsricThe king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbaryhorses: against the which he has imponed, as I takeit, six French rapiers and poniards, with theirassigns, as girdle, hangers, and so: three of thecarriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, veryresponsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages,and of very liberal conceit.HamletWhat call you the carriages?HoratioI knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done.OsricThe carriages, sir, are the hangers.HamletThe phrase would be more german to the matter, if wecould carry cannon by our sides: I would it mightbe hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horsesagainst six French swords, their assigns, and threeliberal-conceited carriages; that's the French betagainst the Danish. Why is this 'imponed,' as you call it?OsricThe king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passesbetween yourself and him, he shall not exceed youthree hits: he hath laid on twelve for nine; and itwould come to immediate trial, if your lordshipwould vouchsafe the answer.HamletHow if I answer 'no'?OsricI mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.HamletSir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please hismajesty, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; letthe foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and theking hold his purpose, I will win for him an I can;if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.OsricShall I re-deliver you e'en so?HamletTo this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.OsricI commend my duty to your lordship.HamletYours, yours.
Exit OSRIC
He does well to commend it himself; there are notongues else for's turn.HoratioThis lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.HamletHe did comply with his dug, before he sucked it.Thus has he--and many more of the same bevy that Iknow the dressy age dotes on--only got the tune ofthe time and outward habit of encounter; a kind ofyesty collection, which carries them through andthrough the most fond and winnowed opinions; and dobut blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.
Enter a Lord

LordMy lord, his majesty commended him to you by youngOsric, who brings back to him that you attend him inthe hall: he sends to know if your pleasure hold toplay with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.HamletI am constant to my purpose; they follow the king'spleasure: if his fitness speaks, mine is ready; nowor whensoever, provided I be so able as now.LordThe king and queen and all are coming down.HamletIn happy time.LordThe queen desires you to use some gentleentertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.HamletShe well instructs me.
Exit Lord

HoratioYou will lose this wager, my lord.HamletI do not think so: since he went into France, Ihave been in continual practise: I shall win at theodds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's hereabout my heart: but it is no matter.HoratioNay, good my lord,--HamletIt is but foolery; but it is such a kind ofgain-giving, as would perhaps trouble a woman.HoratioIf your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I willforestall their repair hither, and say you are notfit.HamletNot a whit, we defy augury: there's a specialprovidence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will benow; if it be not now, yet it will come: thereadiness is all: since no man has aught of what heleaves, what is't to leave betimes? Let be.
Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, LAERTES, Lords, OSRIC, and Attendants with foils, &c

King ClaudiusCome, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
KING CLAUDIUS puts LAERTES' hand into HAMLET's

HamletGive me your pardon, sir: I've done you wrong;But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.This presence knows,And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'dWith sore distraction. What I have done,That might your nature, honour and exceptionRoughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet:If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so,Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.Sir, in this audience,Let my disclaiming from a purposed evilFree me so far in your most generous thoughts,That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,And hurt my brother.LaertesI am satisfied in nature,Whose motive, in this case, should stir me mostTo my revenge: but in my terms of honourI stand aloof; and will no reconcilement,Till by some elder masters, of known honour,I have a voice and precedent of peace,To keep my name ungored. But till that time,I do receive your offer'd love like love,And will not wrong it.HamletI embrace it freely;And will this brother's wager frankly play.Give us the foils. Come on.LaertesCome, one for me.HamletI'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignoranceYour skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night,Stick fiery off indeed.LaertesYou mock me, sir.HamletNo, by this hand.King ClaudiusGive them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,You know the wager?HamletVery well, my lord;Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.King ClaudiusI do not fear it; I have seen you both:But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.LaertesThis is too heavy, let me see another.HamletThis likes me well. These foils have all a length?
They prepare to play

OsricAy, my good lord.King ClaudiusSet me the stoops of wine upon that table.If Hamlet give the first or second hit,Or quit in answer of the third exchange,Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;And in the cup an union shall he throw,Richer than that which four successive kingsIn Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,The trumpet to the cannoneer without,The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,'Now the king drinks to Hamlet.' Come, begin:And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.HamletCome on, sir.LaertesCome, my lord.
They play

HamletOne.LaertesNo.HamletJudgment.OsricA hit, a very palpable hit.LaertesWell; again.King ClaudiusStay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;Here's to thy health.
Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within
Give him the cup.HamletI'll play this bout first; set it by awhile. Come.
They play
Another hit; what say you?LaertesA touch, a touch, I do confess.King ClaudiusOur son shall win.Queen GertrudeHe's fat, and scant of breath.Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows;The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.HamletGood madam!King ClaudiusGertrude, do not drink.Queen GertrudeI will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.King ClaudiusAside It is the poison'd cup: it is too late.HamletI dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.Queen GertrudeCome, let me wipe thy face.LaertesMy lord, I'll hit him now.King ClaudiusI do not think't.LaertesAside And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.HamletCome, for the third, Laertes: you but dally;I pray you, pass with your best violence;I am afeard you make a wanton of me.LaertesSay you so? come on.
They play

OsricNothing, neither way.LaertesHave at you now!
LAERTES wounds HAMLET; then in scuffling, they change rapiers, and HAMLET wounds LAERTES

King ClaudiusPart them; they are incensed.HamletNay, come, again.
QUEEN GERTRUDE falls

OsricLook to the queen there, ho!HoratioThey bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?OsricHow is't, Laertes?LaertesWhy, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric;I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.HamletHow does the queen?King ClaudiusShe swounds to see them bleed.Queen GertrudeNo, no, the drink, the drink,--O my dear Hamlet,--The drink, the drink! I am poison'd.
Dies

HamletO villany! Ho! let the door be lock'd:Treachery! Seek it out.LaertesIt is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain;No medicine in the world can do thee good;In thee there is not half an hour of life;The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practiseHath turn'd itself on me lo, here I lie,Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd:I can no more: the king, the king's to blame.HamletThe point!--envenom'd too!Then, venom, to thy work.
Stabs KING CLAUDIUS

AllTreason! treason!King ClaudiusO, yet defend me, friends; I am but hurt.


Hamlet kill his uncle, the King Claudius, by Moreau.HamletHere, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?Follow my mother.
KING CLAUDIUS dies

LaertesHe is justly served;It is a poison temper'd by himself.Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,Nor thine on me.
Dies

HamletHeaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!You that look pale and tremble at this chance,That are but mutes or audience to this act,Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death,Is strict in his arrest--O, I could tell you--But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;Thou livest; report me and my cause arightTo the unsatisfied.HoratioNever believe it:I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:Here's yet some liquor left.HamletAs thou'rt a man,Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't.O good Horatio, what a wounded name,Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!If thou didst ever hold me in thy heartAbsent thee from felicity awhile,And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,To tell my story.
March afar off, and shot within
What warlike noise is this?OsricYoung Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,To the ambassadors of England givesThis warlike volley.HamletO, I die, Horatio;The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit:I cannot live to hear the news from England;But I do prophesy the election lightsOn Fortinbras: he has my dying voice;So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,Which have solicited. The rest is silence.
Dies

HoratioNow cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!Why does the drum come hither?

March within Enter FORTINBRAS, the English Ambassadors, and others

Prince FortinbrasWhere is this sight?HoratioWhat is it ye would see?If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.Prince FortinbrasThis quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,That thou so many princes at a shotSo bloodily hast struck?First AmbassadorThe sight is dismal;And our affairs from England come too late:The ears are senseless that should give us hearing,To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:Where should we have our thanks?HoratioNot from his mouth,Had it the ability of life to thank you:He never gave commandment for their death.But since, so jump upon this bloody question,You from the Polack wars, and you from England,Are here arrived give order that these bodiesHigh on a stage be placed to the view;And let me speak to the yet unknowing worldHow these things came about: so shall you hearOf carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,And, in this upshot, purposes mistookFall'n on the inventors' heads: all this can ITruly deliver.Prince FortinbrasLet us haste to hear it,And call the noblest to the audience.For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune:I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.HoratioOf that I shall have also cause to speak,And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more;But let this same be presently perform'd,Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischanceOn plots and errors, happen.Prince FortinbrasLet four captainsBear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;For he was likely, had he been put on,To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,The soldiers' music and the rites of warSpeak loudly for him.Take up the bodies: such a sight as thisBecomes the field, but here shows much amiss.Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off

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Scene 1. A churchyard.[edit]

Enter two Clowns, with spades, & pickaxes.

First ClownIs she to be buried in Christian burial whenshe wilfully seeks her own salvation?Second ClownI tell thee she is: and therefore make her gravestraight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds itChristian burial.First ClownHow can that be, unless she drowned herself in herown defence?Second ClownWhy, 'tis found so.First ClownIt must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. Forhere lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly,it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: itis, to act, to do, and to perform. Argal, she drownedherself wittingly.Second ClownNay, but hear you, goodman delver,--First ClownGive me leave. Here lies the water; good: herestands the man; good; if the man go to this water,and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, hegoes,--mark you that; but if the water come to himand drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, hethat is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.Second ClownBut is this law?First ClownAy, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.Second ClownWill you ha' the truth on't? If this had not beena gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'Christian burial.First ClownWhy, there thou say'st: and the more pity thatgreat folk should have countenance in this world todrown or hang themselves, more than their even-Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancientgentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:they hold up Adam's profession.Second ClownWas he a gentleman?First ClownA' was the first that ever bore arms.Second ClownWhy, he had none.First ClownWhat, art a heathen? How dost thou understand theScripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:'could he dig without arms? I'll put anotherquestion to thee: if thou answerest me not to thepurpose, confess thyself--Second ClownGo to.First ClownWhat is he that builds stronger than either themason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?Second ClownThe gallows-maker; for that frame outlives athousand tenants.First ClownI like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallowsdoes well; but how does it well? it does well tothose that do ill: now thou dost ill to say thegallows is built stronger than the church: argal,the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.Second Clown'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, ora carpenter?'First ClownAy, tell me that, and unyoke.Second ClownMarry, now I can tell.First ClownTo't.Second ClownMass, I cannot tell.


Hamlet and Horatio with the clowns. Painting by Delacroix.
Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance

First ClownCudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dullass will not mend his pace with beating; and, whenyou are asked this question next, say 'agrave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last tilldoomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me astoup of liquor.
Exit Second Clown He digs and sings
In youth, when I did love, did love,Methought it was very sweet,To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,O, methought, there was nothing meet.HamletHas this fellow no feeling of his business, that hesings at grave-making?HoratioCustom hath made it in him a property of easiness.Hamlet'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment haththe daintier sense.First ClownSingsBut age, with his stealing steps,Hath claw'd me in his clutch,And hath shipped me intil the land,As if I had never been such.
Throws up a skull

HamletThat skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it wereCain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! Itmight be the pate of a politician, which this assnow o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,might it not?HoratioIt might, my lord.HamletOr of a courtier; which could say 'Good morrow,sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?' This mightbe my lord such-a-one, that praised my lordsuch-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?HoratioAy, my lord.HamletWhy, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, andknocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade:here's fine revolution, an we had the trick tosee't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding,but to play at loggats with 'em? mine ache to think on't.First Clown
Sings
A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,For and a shrouding sheet:O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.
Throws up another skull

HamletThere's another: why may not that be the skull of alawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets,his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does hesuffer this rude knave now to knock him about thesconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him ofhis action of battery? Hum! This fellow might bein's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, andthe recovery of his recoveries, to have his finepate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch himno more of his purchases, and double ones too, thanthe length and breadth of a pair of indentures? Thevery conveyances of his lands will hardly lie inthis box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?HoratioNot a jot more, my lord.HamletIs not parchment made of sheepskins?HoratioAy, my lord, and of calf-skins too.HamletThey are sheep and calves which seek out assurancein that. I will speak to this fellow. Whosegrave's this, sirrah?First ClownMine, sir.
Sings
O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.HamletI think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.First ClownYou lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is notyours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.HamletThou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine:'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.First Clown'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again, from me toyou.HamletWhat man dost thou dig it for?First ClownFor no man, sir.HamletWhat woman, then?First ClownFor none, neither.HamletWho is to be buried in't?First ClownOne that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.HamletHow absolute the knave is! we must speak by thecard, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,Horatio, these three years I have taken a note ofit; the age is grown so picked that the toe of thepeasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, hegaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been agrave-maker?First ClownOf all the days i' the year, I came to't that daythat our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.HamletHow long is that since?First ClownCannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: itwas the very day that young Hamlet was born; he thatis mad, and sent into England.HamletAy, marry, why was he sent into England?First ClownWhy, because he was mad: he shall recover his witsthere; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.HamletWhy?First Clown'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the menare as mad as he.HamletHow came he mad?First ClownVery strangely, they say.HamletHow strangely?First ClownFaith, e'en with losing his wits.HamletUpon what ground?First ClownWhy, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, manand boy, thirty years.HamletHow long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?First ClownI' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as wehave many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarcehold the laying in--he will last you some eight yearor nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.HamletWhy he more than another?First ClownWhy, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, thathe will keep out water a great while; and your wateris a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earththree and twenty years.HamletWhose was it?First ClownA whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?HamletNay, I know not.First ClownA pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured aflagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.HamletThis?First ClownE'en that.HamletLet me see.
Takes the skull
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellowof infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hathborne me on his back a thousand times; and now, howabhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims atit. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I knownot how oft. Where be your gibes now? yourgambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not onenow, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, lether paint an inch thick, to this favour she mustcome; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tellme one thing.HoratioWhat's that, my lord?HamletDost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'the earth?HoratioE'en so.HamletAnd smelt so? pah!
Puts down the skull

HoratioE'en so, my lord.HamletTo what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why maynot imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,till he find it stopping a bung-hole?Horatio'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.HamletNo, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither withmodesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: asthus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; ofearth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto hewas converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.
Enter Priest, &c. in procession; the Corpse of OPHELIA, LAERTES and Mourners following; KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, their trains, &c
The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow?And with such maimed rites? This doth betokenThe corse they follow did with desperate handFordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.Couch we awhile, and mark.
Retiring with HORATIO

LaertesWhat ceremony else?HamletThat is Laertes,A very noble youth: mark.LaertesWhat ceremony else?First PriestHer obsequies have been as far enlargedAs we have warrantise: her death was doubtful;And, but that great command o'ersways the order,She should in ground unsanctified have lodgedTill the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,Her maiden strewments and the bringing homeOf bell and burial.LaertesMust there no more be done?First PriestNo more be done:We should profane the service of the deadTo sing a requiem and such rest to herAs to peace-parted souls.LaertesLay her i' the earth:And from her fair and unpolluted fleshMay violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,A ministering angel shall my sister be,When thou liest howling.HamletWhat, the fair Ophelia!Queen GertrudeSweets to the sweet: farewell!
Scattering flowers
I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,And not have strew'd thy grave.LaertesO, treble woeFall ten times treble on that cursed head,Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious senseDeprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
Leaps into the grave
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,Till of this flat a mountain you have made,To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish headOf blue Olympus.HamletAdvancing What is he whose griefBears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrowConjures the wandering stars, and makes them standLike wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,Hamlet the Dane.
Leaps into the grave

LaertesThe devil take thy soul!


Prince Hamlet and Laertes fight in grave, by Delacroix.
Grappling with him

HamletThou pray'st not well.I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;For, though I am not splenitive and rash,Yet have I something in me dangerous,Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.King ClaudiusPluck them asunder.Queen GertrudeHamlet, Hamlet!AllGentlemen,--HoratioGood my lord, be quiet.
The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave

HamletWhy, I will fight with him upon this themeUntil my eyelids will no longer wag.Queen GertrudeO my son, what theme?HamletI loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?King ClaudiusO, he is mad, Laertes.Queen GertrudeFor love of God, forbear him.Hamlet'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?To outface me with leaping in her grave?Be buried quick with her, and so will I:And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throwMillions of acres on us, till our ground,Singeing his pate against the burning zone,Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,I'll rant as well as thou.Queen GertrudeThis is mere madness:And thus awhile the fit will work on him;Anon, as patient as the female dove,When that her golden couplets are disclosed,His silence will sit drooping.HamletHear you, sir;What is the reason that you use me thus?I loved you ever: but it is no matter;Let Hercules himself do what he may,The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
Exit

King ClaudiusI pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.
Exit HORATIO To LAERTES
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;We'll put the matter to the present push.Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.This grave shall have a living monument:An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt

Scene 2. A hall in the castle.[edit]

Enter Hamlet and Horatio
HamletSo much for this, sir: now shall you see the other;You do remember all the circumstance?HoratioRemember it, my lord?HamletSir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,That would not let me sleep: methought I layWorse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,And praised be rashness for it, let us know,Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach usThere's a divinity that shapes our ends,Rough-hew them how we will,--HoratioThat is most certain.HamletUp from my cabin,My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the darkGroped I to find out them; had my desire.Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrewTo mine own room again; making so bold,My fears forgetting manners, to unsealTheir grand commission; where I found, Horatio,--O royal knavery!--an exact command,Larded with many several sorts of reasonsImporting Denmark's health and England's too,With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,My head should be struck off.HoratioIs't possible?HamletHere's the commission: read it at more leisure.But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?HoratioI beseech you.HamletBeing thus be-netted round with villanies,--Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,They had begun the play--I sat me down,Devised a new commission, wrote it fair:I once did hold it, as our statists do,A baseness to write fair and labour'd muchHow to forget that learning, but, sir, nowIt did me yeoman's service: wilt thou knowThe effect of what I wrote?HoratioAy, good my lord.HamletAn earnest conjuration from the king,As England was his faithful tributary,As love between them like the palm might flourish,As peace should stiff her wheaten garland wearAnd stand a comma 'tween their amities,And many such-like 'As'es of great charge,That, on the view and knowing of these contents,Without debatement further, more or less,He should the bearers put to sudden death,Not shriving-time allow'd.HoratioHow was this seal'd?HamletWhy, even in that was heaven ordinant.I had my father's signet in my purse,Which was the model of that Danish seal;Folded the writ up in form of the other,Subscribed it, gave't the impression, placed it safely,The changeling never known. Now, the next dayWas our sea-fight; and what to this was sequentThou know'st already.HoratioSo Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.HamletWhy, man, they did make love to this employment;They are not near my conscience; their defeatDoes by their own insinuation grow:'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comesBetween the pass and fell incensed pointsOf mighty opposites.HoratioWhy, what a king is this!HamletDoes it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon--He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother,Popp'd in between the election and my hopes,Thrown out his angle for my proper life,And with such cozenage--is't not perfect conscience,To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd,To let this canker of our nature comeIn further evil?HoratioIt must be shortly known to him from EnglandWhat is the issue of the business there.HamletIt will be short: the interim is mine;And a man's life's no more than to say 'One.'But I am very sorry, good Horatio,That to Laertes I forgot myself;For, by the image of my cause, I seeThe portraiture of his: I'll court his favours.But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put meInto a towering passion.HoratioPeace! who comes here?
Enter OSRIC

OsricYour lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.HamletI humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this water-fly?HoratioNo, my good lord.HamletThy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice toknow him. He hath much land, and fertile: let abeast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand atthe king's mess: 'tis a chough; but, as I say,spacious in the possession of dirt.OsricSweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, Ishould impart a thing to you from his majesty.HamletI will receive it, sir, with all diligence ofspirit. Put your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.OsricI thank your lordship, it is very hot.HamletNo, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind isnortherly.OsricIt is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.HamletBut yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for mycomplexion.OsricExceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,--as'twere,--I cannot tell how. But, my lord, hismajesty bade me signify to you that he has laid agreat wager on your head: sir, this is the matter,--HamletI beseech you, remember--
HAMLET moves him to put on his hat

OsricNay, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith.Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believeme, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellentdifferences, of very soft society and great showing:indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card orcalendar of gentry, for you shall find in him thecontinent of what part a gentleman would see.HamletSir, his definement suffers no perdition in you;though, I know, to divide him inventorially woulddizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yawneither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in theverity of extolment, I take him to be a soul ofgreat article; and his infusion of such dearth andrareness, as, to make true diction of him, hissemblable is his mirror; and who else would tracehim, his umbrage, nothing more.OsricYour lordship speaks most infallibly of him.HamletThe concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the gentlemanin our more rawer breath?OsricSir?HoratioIs't not possible to understand in another tongue?You will do't, sir, really.HamletWhat imports the nomination of this gentleman?OsricOf Laertes?HoratioHis purse is empty already; all's golden words are spent.HamletOf him, sir.OsricI know you are not ignorant--HamletI would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did,it would not much approve me. Well, sir?OsricYou are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is--HamletI dare not confess that, lest I should compare withhim in excellence; but, to know a man well, were toknow himself.OsricI mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputationlaid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.HamletWhat's his weapon?OsricRapier and dagger.HamletThat's two of his weapons: but, well.OsricThe king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbaryhorses: against the which he has imponed, as I takeit, six French rapiers and poniards, with theirassigns, as girdle, hangers, and so: three of thecarriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, veryresponsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages,and of very liberal conceit.HamletWhat call you the carriages?HoratioI knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done.OsricThe carriages, sir, are the hangers.HamletThe phrase would be more german to the matter, if wecould carry cannon by our sides: I would it mightbe hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horsesagainst six French swords, their assigns, and threeliberal-conceited carriages; that's the French betagainst the Danish. Why is this 'imponed,' as you call it?OsricThe king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passesbetween yourself and him, he shall not exceed youthree hits: he hath laid on twelve for nine; and itwould come to immediate trial, if your lordshipwould vouchsafe the answer.HamletHow if I answer 'no'?OsricI mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.HamletSir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please hismajesty, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; letthe foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and theking hold his purpose, I will win for him an I can;if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.OsricShall I re-deliver you e'en so?HamletTo this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.OsricI commend my duty to your lordship.HamletYours, yours.
Exit OSRIC
He does well to commend it himself; there are notongues else for's turn.HoratioThis lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.HamletHe did comply with his dug, before he sucked it.Thus has he--and many more of the same bevy that Iknow the dressy age dotes on--only got the tune ofthe time and outward habit of encounter; a kind ofyesty collection, which carries them through andthrough the most fond and winnowed opinions; and dobut blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.
Enter a Lord

LordMy lord, his majesty commended him to you by youngOsric, who brings back to him that you attend him inthe hall: he sends to know if your pleasure hold toplay with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.HamletI am constant to my purpose; they follow the king'spleasure: if his fitness speaks, mine is ready; nowor whensoever, provided I be so able as now.LordThe king and queen and all are coming down.HamletIn happy time.LordThe queen desires you to use some gentleentertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.HamletShe well instructs me.
Exit Lord

HoratioYou will lose this wager, my lord.HamletI do not think so: since he went into France, Ihave been in continual practise: I shall win at theodds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's hereabout my heart: but it is no matter.HoratioNay, good my lord,--HamletIt is but foolery; but it is such a kind ofgain-giving, as would perhaps trouble a woman.HoratioIf your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I willforestall their repair hither, and say you are notfit.HamletNot a whit, we defy augury: there's a specialprovidence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will benow; if it be not now, yet it will come: thereadiness is all: since no man has aught of what heleaves, what is't to leave betimes? Let be.
Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, LAERTES, Lords, OSRIC, and Attendants with foils, &c

King ClaudiusCome, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
KING CLAUDIUS puts LAERTES' hand into HAMLET's

HamletGive me your pardon, sir: I've done you wrong;But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.This presence knows,And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'dWith sore distraction. What I have done,That might your nature, honour and exceptionRoughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet:If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so,Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.Sir, in this audience,Let my disclaiming from a purposed evilFree me so far in your most generous thoughts,That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,And hurt my brother.LaertesI am satisfied in nature,Whose motive, in this case, should stir me mostTo my revenge: but in my terms of honourI stand aloof; and will no reconcilement,Till by some elder masters, of known honour,I have a voice and precedent of peace,To keep my name ungored. But till that time,I do receive your offer'd love like love,And will not wrong it.HamletI embrace it freely;And will this brother's wager frankly play.Give us the foils. Come on.LaertesCome, one for me.HamletI'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignoranceYour skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night,Stick fiery off indeed.LaertesYou mock me, sir.HamletNo, by this hand.King ClaudiusGive them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,You know the wager?HamletVery well, my lord;Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.King ClaudiusI do not fear it; I have seen you both:But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.LaertesThis is too heavy, let me see another.HamletThis likes me well. These foils have all a length?
They prepare to play

OsricAy, my good lord.King ClaudiusSet me the stoops of wine upon that table.If Hamlet give the first or second hit,Or quit in answer of the third exchange,Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;And in the cup an union shall he throw,Richer than that which four successive kingsIn Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,The trumpet to the cannoneer without,The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,'Now the king drinks to Hamlet.' Come, begin:And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.HamletCome on, sir.LaertesCome, my lord.
They play

HamletOne.LaertesNo.HamletJudgment.OsricA hit, a very palpable hit.LaertesWell; again.King ClaudiusStay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;Here's to thy health.
Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within
Give him the cup.HamletI'll play this bout first; set it by awhile. Come.
They play
Another hit; what say you?LaertesA touch, a touch, I do confess.King ClaudiusOur son shall win.Queen GertrudeHe's fat, and scant of breath.Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows;The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.HamletGood madam!King ClaudiusGertrude, do not drink.Queen GertrudeI will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.King ClaudiusAside It is the poison'd cup: it is too late.HamletI dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.Queen GertrudeCome, let me wipe thy face.LaertesMy lord, I'll hit him now.King ClaudiusI do not think't.LaertesAside And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.HamletCome, for the third, Laertes: you but dally;I pray you, pass with your best violence;I am afeard you make a wanton of me.LaertesSay you so? come on.
They play

OsricNothing, neither way.LaertesHave at you now!
LAERTES wounds HAMLET; then in scuffling, they change rapiers, and HAMLET wounds LAERTES

King ClaudiusPart them; they are incensed.HamletNay, come, again.
QUEEN GERTRUDE falls

OsricLook to the queen there, ho!HoratioThey bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?OsricHow is't, Laertes?LaertesWhy, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric;I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.HamletHow does the queen?King ClaudiusShe swounds to see them bleed.Queen GertrudeNo, no, the drink, the drink,--O my dear Hamlet,--The drink, the drink! I am poison'd.
Dies

HamletO villany! Ho! let the door be lock'd:Treachery! Seek it out.LaertesIt is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain;No medicine in the world can do thee good;In thee there is not half an hour of life;The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practiseHath turn'd itself on me lo, here I lie,Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd:I can no more: the king, the king's to blame.HamletThe point!--envenom'd too!Then, venom, to thy work.
Stabs KING CLAUDIUS

AllTreason! treason!King ClaudiusO, yet defend me, friends; I am but hurt.


Hamlet kill his uncle, the King Claudius, by Moreau.HamletHere, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?Follow my mother.
KING CLAUDIUS dies

LaertesHe is justly served;It is a poison temper'd by himself.Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,Nor thine on me.
Dies

HamletHeaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!You that look pale and tremble at this chance,That are but mutes or audience to this act,Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death,Is strict in his arrest--O, I could tell you--But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;Thou livest; report me and my cause arightTo the unsatisfied.HoratioNever believe it:I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:Here's yet some liquor left.HamletAs thou'rt a man,Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't.O good Horatio, what a wounded name,Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!If thou didst ever hold me in thy heartAbsent thee from felicity awhile,And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,To tell my story.
March afar off, and shot within
What warlike noise is this?OsricYoung Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,To the ambassadors of England givesThis warlike volley.HamletO, I die, Horatio;The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit:I cannot live to hear the news from England;But I do prophesy the election lightsOn Fortinbras: he has my dying voice;So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,Which have solicited. The rest is silence.
Dies

HoratioNow cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!Why does the drum come hither?

March within Enter FORTINBRAS, the English Ambassadors, and others

Prince FortinbrasWhere is this sight?HoratioWhat is it ye would see?If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.Prince FortinbrasThis quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,That thou so many princes at a shotSo bloodily hast struck?First AmbassadorThe sight is dismal;And our affairs from England come too late:The ears are senseless that should give us hearing,To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:Where should we have our thanks?HoratioNot from his mouth,Had it the ability of life to thank you:He never gave commandment for their death.But since, so jump upon this bloody question,You from the Polack wars, and you from England,Are here arrived give order that these bodiesHigh on a stage be placed to the view;And let me speak to the yet unknowing worldHow these things came about: so shall you hearOf carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,And, in this upshot, purposes mistookFall'n on the inventors' heads: all this can ITruly deliver.Prince FortinbrasLet us haste to hear it,And call the noblest to the audience.For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune:I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.HoratioOf that I shall have also cause to speak,And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more;But let this same be presently perform'd,Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischanceOn plots and errors, happen.Prince FortinbrasLet four captainsBear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;For he was likely, had he been put on,To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,The soldiers' music and the rites of warSpeak loudly for him.Take up the bodies: such a sight as thisBecomes the field, but here shows much amiss.Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off

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Pour AlSvartr et tous mes amis d'ici:


Hello AlSvartr,

Here I am showing an initial arbitrary choose, very low definition picture (300x300 pixels) which I processed step by step having as general goal to clean it up and underline the details by various means.

here is the starting and the final version:


here are the corresponding image to the 6 steps below described:


Where:

1-the haze is a bit wiped.
2-highlighting the very small details
3-highlighting the medium details
4-highlighting the large details
5-tuning the contrasts on 3 level - micro, low and medium.
6- underlining a bit the edges.

[Ce message a été modifié par uranus7 (Édité le 04-12-2014).]

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Scene 1. A churchyard.[edit]

Enter two Clowns, with spades, & pickaxes.

First ClownIs she to be buried in Christian burial whenshe wilfully seeks her own salvation?Second ClownI tell thee she is: and therefore make her gravestraight: the crowner hath sat on her, and finds itChristian burial.First ClownHow can that be, unless she drowned herself in herown defence?Second ClownWhy, 'tis found so.First ClownIt must be 'se offendendo;' it cannot be else. Forhere lies the point: if I drown myself wittingly,it argues an act: and an act hath three branches: itis, to act, to do, and to perform. Argal, she drownedherself wittingly.Second ClownNay, but hear you, goodman delver,--First ClownGive me leave. Here lies the water; good: herestands the man; good; if the man go to this water,and drown himself, it is, will he, nill he, hegoes,--mark you that; but if the water come to himand drown him, he drowns not himself. Argal, hethat is not guilty of his own death shortens not his own life.Second ClownBut is this law?First ClownAy, marry, is't; crowner's quest law.Second ClownWill you ha' the truth on't? If this had not beena gentlewoman, she should have been buried out o'Christian burial.First ClownWhy, there thou say'st: and the more pity thatgreat folk should have countenance in this world todrown or hang themselves, more than their even-Christian. Come, my spade. There is no ancientgentleman but gardeners, ditchers, and grave-makers:they hold up Adam's profession.Second ClownWas he a gentleman?First ClownA' was the first that ever bore arms.Second ClownWhy, he had none.First ClownWhat, art a heathen? How dost thou understand theScripture? The Scripture says 'Adam digged:'could he dig without arms? I'll put anotherquestion to thee: if thou answerest me not to thepurpose, confess thyself--Second ClownGo to.First ClownWhat is he that builds stronger than either themason, the shipwright, or the carpenter?Second ClownThe gallows-maker; for that frame outlives athousand tenants.First ClownI like thy wit well, in good faith: the gallowsdoes well; but how does it well? it does well tothose that do ill: now thou dost ill to say thegallows is built stronger than the church: argal,the gallows may do well to thee. To't again, come.Second Clown'Who builds stronger than a mason, a shipwright, ora carpenter?'First ClownAy, tell me that, and unyoke.Second ClownMarry, now I can tell.First ClownTo't.Second ClownMass, I cannot tell.


Hamlet and Horatio with the clowns. Painting by Delacroix.
Enter HAMLET and HORATIO, at a distance

First ClownCudgel thy brains no more about it, for your dullass will not mend his pace with beating; and, whenyou are asked this question next, say 'agrave-maker: 'the houses that he makes last tilldoomsday. Go, get thee to Yaughan: fetch me astoup of liquor.
Exit Second Clown He digs and sings
In youth, when I did love, did love,Methought it was very sweet,To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove,O, methought, there was nothing meet.HamletHas this fellow no feeling of his business, that hesings at grave-making?HoratioCustom hath made it in him a property of easiness.Hamlet'Tis e'en so: the hand of little employment haththe daintier sense.First ClownSingsBut age, with his stealing steps,Hath claw'd me in his clutch,And hath shipped me intil the land,As if I had never been such.
Throws up a skull

HamletThat skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once:how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it wereCain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! Itmight be the pate of a politician, which this assnow o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God,might it not?HoratioIt might, my lord.HamletOr of a courtier; which could say 'Good morrow,sweet lord! How dost thou, good lord?' This mightbe my lord such-a-one, that praised my lordsuch-a-one's horse, when he meant to beg it; might it not?HoratioAy, my lord.HamletWhy, e'en so: and now my Lady Worm's; chapless, andknocked about the mazzard with a sexton's spade:here's fine revolution, an we had the trick tosee't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding,but to play at loggats with 'em? mine ache to think on't.First Clown
Sings
A pick-axe, and a spade, a spade,For and a shrouding sheet:O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.
Throws up another skull

HamletThere's another: why may not that be the skull of alawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his quillets,his cases, his tenures, and his tricks? why does hesuffer this rude knave now to knock him about thesconce with a dirty shovel, and will not tell him ofhis action of battery? Hum! This fellow might bein's time a great buyer of land, with his statutes,his recognizances, his fines, his double vouchers,his recoveries: is this the fine of his fines, andthe recovery of his recoveries, to have his finepate full of fine dirt? will his vouchers vouch himno more of his purchases, and double ones too, thanthe length and breadth of a pair of indentures? Thevery conveyances of his lands will hardly lie inthis box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha?HoratioNot a jot more, my lord.HamletIs not parchment made of sheepskins?HoratioAy, my lord, and of calf-skins too.HamletThey are sheep and calves which seek out assurancein that. I will speak to this fellow. Whosegrave's this, sirrah?First ClownMine, sir.
Sings
O, a pit of clay for to be madeFor such a guest is meet.HamletI think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't.First ClownYou lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is notyours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine.HamletThou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine:'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest.First Clown'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away again, from me toyou.HamletWhat man dost thou dig it for?First ClownFor no man, sir.HamletWhat woman, then?First ClownFor none, neither.HamletWho is to be buried in't?First ClownOne that was a woman, sir; but, rest her soul, she's dead.HamletHow absolute the knave is! we must speak by thecard, or equivocation will undo us. By the Lord,Horatio, these three years I have taken a note ofit; the age is grown so picked that the toe of thepeasant comes so near the heel of the courtier, hegaffs his kibe. How long hast thou been agrave-maker?First ClownOf all the days i' the year, I came to't that daythat our last king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras.HamletHow long is that since?First ClownCannot you tell that? every fool can tell that: itwas the very day that young Hamlet was born; he thatis mad, and sent into England.HamletAy, marry, why was he sent into England?First ClownWhy, because he was mad: he shall recover his witsthere; or, if he do not, it's no great matter there.HamletWhy?First Clown'Twill, a not be seen in him there; there the menare as mad as he.HamletHow came he mad?First ClownVery strangely, they say.HamletHow strangely?First ClownFaith, e'en with losing his wits.HamletUpon what ground?First ClownWhy, here in Denmark: I have been sexton here, manand boy, thirty years.HamletHow long will a man lie i' the earth ere he rot?First ClownI' faith, if he be not rotten before he die--as wehave many pocky corses now-a-days, that will scarcehold the laying in--he will last you some eight yearor nine year: a tanner will last you nine year.HamletWhy he more than another?First ClownWhy, sir, his hide is so tanned with his trade, thathe will keep out water a great while; and your wateris a sore decayer of your whoreson dead body.Here's a skull now; this skull has lain in the earththree and twenty years.HamletWhose was it?First ClownA whoreson mad fellow's it was: whose do you think it was?HamletNay, I know not.First ClownA pestilence on him for a mad rogue! a' poured aflagon of Rhenish on my head once. This same skull,sir, was Yorick's skull, the king's jester.HamletThis?First ClownE'en that.HamletLet me see.
Takes the skull
Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellowof infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hathborne me on his back a thousand times; and now, howabhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims atit. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I knownot how oft. Where be your gibes now? yourgambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not onenow, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, lether paint an inch thick, to this favour she mustcome; make her laugh at that. Prithee, Horatio, tellme one thing.HoratioWhat's that, my lord?HamletDost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i'the earth?HoratioE'en so.HamletAnd smelt so? pah!
Puts down the skull

HoratioE'en so, my lord.HamletTo what base uses we may return, Horatio! Why maynot imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander,till he find it stopping a bung-hole?Horatio'Twere to consider too curiously, to consider so.HamletNo, faith, not a jot; but to follow him thither withmodesty enough, and likelihood to lead it: asthus: Alexander died, Alexander was buried,Alexander returneth into dust; the dust is earth; ofearth we make loam; and why of that loam, whereto hewas converted, might they not stop a beer-barrel?Imperious Caesar, dead and turn'd to clay,Might stop a hole to keep the wind away:O, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,Should patch a wall to expel the winter flaw!But soft! but soft! aside: here comes the king.
Enter Priest, &c. in procession; the Corpse of OPHELIA, LAERTES and Mourners following; KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, their trains, &c
The queen, the courtiers: who is this they follow?And with such maimed rites? This doth betokenThe corse they follow did with desperate handFordo its own life: 'twas of some estate.Couch we awhile, and mark.
Retiring with HORATIO

LaertesWhat ceremony else?HamletThat is Laertes,A very noble youth: mark.LaertesWhat ceremony else?First PriestHer obsequies have been as far enlargedAs we have warrantise: her death was doubtful;And, but that great command o'ersways the order,She should in ground unsanctified have lodgedTill the last trumpet: for charitable prayers,Shards, flints and pebbles should be thrown on her;Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants,Her maiden strewments and the bringing homeOf bell and burial.LaertesMust there no more be done?First PriestNo more be done:We should profane the service of the deadTo sing a requiem and such rest to herAs to peace-parted souls.LaertesLay her i' the earth:And from her fair and unpolluted fleshMay violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest,A ministering angel shall my sister be,When thou liest howling.HamletWhat, the fair Ophelia!Queen GertrudeSweets to the sweet: farewell!
Scattering flowers
I hoped thou shouldst have been my Hamlet's wife;I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid,And not have strew'd thy grave.LaertesO, treble woeFall ten times treble on that cursed head,Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious senseDeprived thee of! Hold off the earth awhile,Till I have caught her once more in mine arms:
Leaps into the grave
Now pile your dust upon the quick and dead,Till of this flat a mountain you have made,To o'ertop old Pelion, or the skyish headOf blue Olympus.HamletAdvancing What is he whose griefBears such an emphasis? whose phrase of sorrowConjures the wandering stars, and makes them standLike wonder-wounded hearers? This is I,Hamlet the Dane.
Leaps into the grave

LaertesThe devil take thy soul!


Prince Hamlet and Laertes fight in grave, by Delacroix.
Grappling with him

HamletThou pray'st not well.I prithee, take thy fingers from my throat;For, though I am not splenitive and rash,Yet have I something in me dangerous,Which let thy wiseness fear: hold off thy hand.King ClaudiusPluck them asunder.Queen GertrudeHamlet, Hamlet!AllGentlemen,--HoratioGood my lord, be quiet.
The Attendants part them, and they come out of the grave

HamletWhy, I will fight with him upon this themeUntil my eyelids will no longer wag.Queen GertrudeO my son, what theme?HamletI loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothersCould not, with all their quantity of love,Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?King ClaudiusO, he is mad, Laertes.Queen GertrudeFor love of God, forbear him.Hamlet'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?To outface me with leaping in her grave?Be buried quick with her, and so will I:And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throwMillions of acres on us, till our ground,Singeing his pate against the burning zone,Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,I'll rant as well as thou.Queen GertrudeThis is mere madness:And thus awhile the fit will work on him;Anon, as patient as the female dove,When that her golden couplets are disclosed,His silence will sit drooping.HamletHear you, sir;What is the reason that you use me thus?I loved you ever: but it is no matter;Let Hercules himself do what he may,The cat will mew and dog will have his day.
Exit

King ClaudiusI pray you, good Horatio, wait upon him.
Exit HORATIO To LAERTES
Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech;We'll put the matter to the present push.Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son.This grave shall have a living monument:An hour of quiet shortly shall we see;Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt

Scene 2. A hall in the castle.[edit]

Enter Hamlet and Horatio
HamletSo much for this, sir: now shall you see the other;You do remember all the circumstance?HoratioRemember it, my lord?HamletSir, in my heart there was a kind of fighting,That would not let me sleep: methought I layWorse than the mutines in the bilboes. Rashly,And praised be rashness for it, let us know,Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well,When our deep plots do pall: and that should teach usThere's a divinity that shapes our ends,Rough-hew them how we will,--HoratioThat is most certain.HamletUp from my cabin,My sea-gown scarf'd about me, in the darkGroped I to find out them; had my desire.Finger'd their packet, and in fine withdrewTo mine own room again; making so bold,My fears forgetting manners, to unsealTheir grand commission; where I found, Horatio,--O royal knavery!--an exact command,Larded with many several sorts of reasonsImporting Denmark's health and England's too,With, ho! such bugs and goblins in my life,That, on the supervise, no leisure bated,No, not to stay the grinding of the axe,My head should be struck off.HoratioIs't possible?HamletHere's the commission: read it at more leisure.But wilt thou hear me how I did proceed?HoratioI beseech you.HamletBeing thus be-netted round with villanies,--Ere I could make a prologue to my brains,They had begun the play--I sat me down,Devised a new commission, wrote it fair:I once did hold it, as our statists do,A baseness to write fair and labour'd muchHow to forget that learning, but, sir, nowIt did me yeoman's service: wilt thou knowThe effect of what I wrote?HoratioAy, good my lord.HamletAn earnest conjuration from the king,As England was his faithful tributary,As love between them like the palm might flourish,As peace should stiff her wheaten garland wearAnd stand a comma 'tween their amities,And many such-like 'As'es of great charge,That, on the view and knowing of these contents,Without debatement further, more or less,He should the bearers put to sudden death,Not shriving-time allow'd.HoratioHow was this seal'd?HamletWhy, even in that was heaven ordinant.I had my father's signet in my purse,Which was the model of that Danish seal;Folded the writ up in form of the other,Subscribed it, gave't the impression, placed it safely,The changeling never known. Now, the next dayWas our sea-fight; and what to this was sequentThou know'st already.HoratioSo Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to't.HamletWhy, man, they did make love to this employment;They are not near my conscience; their defeatDoes by their own insinuation grow:'Tis dangerous when the baser nature comesBetween the pass and fell incensed pointsOf mighty opposites.HoratioWhy, what a king is this!HamletDoes it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon--He that hath kill'd my king and whored my mother,Popp'd in between the election and my hopes,Thrown out his angle for my proper life,And with such cozenage--is't not perfect conscience,To quit him with this arm? and is't not to be damn'd,To let this canker of our nature comeIn further evil?HoratioIt must be shortly known to him from EnglandWhat is the issue of the business there.HamletIt will be short: the interim is mine;And a man's life's no more than to say 'One.'But I am very sorry, good Horatio,That to Laertes I forgot myself;For, by the image of my cause, I seeThe portraiture of his: I'll court his favours.But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put meInto a towering passion.HoratioPeace! who comes here?
Enter OSRIC

OsricYour lordship is right welcome back to Denmark.HamletI humbly thank you, sir. Dost know this water-fly?HoratioNo, my good lord.HamletThy state is the more gracious; for 'tis a vice toknow him. He hath much land, and fertile: let abeast be lord of beasts, and his crib shall stand atthe king's mess: 'tis a chough; but, as I say,spacious in the possession of dirt.OsricSweet lord, if your lordship were at leisure, Ishould impart a thing to you from his majesty.HamletI will receive it, sir, with all diligence ofspirit. Put your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.OsricI thank your lordship, it is very hot.HamletNo, believe me, 'tis very cold; the wind isnortherly.OsricIt is indifferent cold, my lord, indeed.HamletBut yet methinks it is very sultry and hot for mycomplexion.OsricExceedingly, my lord; it is very sultry,--as'twere,--I cannot tell how. But, my lord, hismajesty bade me signify to you that he has laid agreat wager on your head: sir, this is the matter,--HamletI beseech you, remember--
HAMLET moves him to put on his hat

OsricNay, good my lord; for mine ease, in good faith.Sir, here is newly come to court Laertes; believeme, an absolute gentleman, full of most excellentdifferences, of very soft society and great showing:indeed, to speak feelingly of him, he is the card orcalendar of gentry, for you shall find in him thecontinent of what part a gentleman would see.HamletSir, his definement suffers no perdition in you;though, I know, to divide him inventorially woulddizzy the arithmetic of memory, and yet but yawneither, in respect of his quick sail. But, in theverity of extolment, I take him to be a soul ofgreat article; and his infusion of such dearth andrareness, as, to make true diction of him, hissemblable is his mirror; and who else would tracehim, his umbrage, nothing more.OsricYour lordship speaks most infallibly of him.HamletThe concernancy, sir? why do we wrap the gentlemanin our more rawer breath?OsricSir?HoratioIs't not possible to understand in another tongue?You will do't, sir, really.HamletWhat imports the nomination of this gentleman?OsricOf Laertes?HoratioHis purse is empty already; all's golden words are spent.HamletOf him, sir.OsricI know you are not ignorant--HamletI would you did, sir; yet, in faith, if you did,it would not much approve me. Well, sir?OsricYou are not ignorant of what excellence Laertes is--HamletI dare not confess that, lest I should compare withhim in excellence; but, to know a man well, were toknow himself.OsricI mean, sir, for his weapon; but in the imputationlaid on him by them, in his meed he's unfellowed.HamletWhat's his weapon?OsricRapier and dagger.HamletThat's two of his weapons: but, well.OsricThe king, sir, hath wagered with him six Barbaryhorses: against the which he has imponed, as I takeit, six French rapiers and poniards, with theirassigns, as girdle, hangers, and so: three of thecarriages, in faith, are very dear to fancy, veryresponsive to the hilts, most delicate carriages,and of very liberal conceit.HamletWhat call you the carriages?HoratioI knew you must be edified by the margent ere you had done.OsricThe carriages, sir, are the hangers.HamletThe phrase would be more german to the matter, if wecould carry cannon by our sides: I would it mightbe hangers till then. But, on: six Barbary horsesagainst six French swords, their assigns, and threeliberal-conceited carriages; that's the French betagainst the Danish. Why is this 'imponed,' as you call it?OsricThe king, sir, hath laid, that in a dozen passesbetween yourself and him, he shall not exceed youthree hits: he hath laid on twelve for nine; and itwould come to immediate trial, if your lordshipwould vouchsafe the answer.HamletHow if I answer 'no'?OsricI mean, my lord, the opposition of your person in trial.HamletSir, I will walk here in the hall: if it please hismajesty, 'tis the breathing time of day with me; letthe foils be brought, the gentleman willing, and theking hold his purpose, I will win for him an I can;if not, I will gain nothing but my shame and the odd hits.OsricShall I re-deliver you e'en so?HamletTo this effect, sir; after what flourish your nature will.OsricI commend my duty to your lordship.HamletYours, yours.
Exit OSRIC
He does well to commend it himself; there are notongues else for's turn.HoratioThis lapwing runs away with the shell on his head.HamletHe did comply with his dug, before he sucked it.Thus has he--and many more of the same bevy that Iknow the dressy age dotes on--only got the tune ofthe time and outward habit of encounter; a kind ofyesty collection, which carries them through andthrough the most fond and winnowed opinions; and dobut blow them to their trial, the bubbles are out.
Enter a Lord

LordMy lord, his majesty commended him to you by youngOsric, who brings back to him that you attend him inthe hall: he sends to know if your pleasure hold toplay with Laertes, or that you will take longer time.HamletI am constant to my purpose; they follow the king'spleasure: if his fitness speaks, mine is ready; nowor whensoever, provided I be so able as now.LordThe king and queen and all are coming down.HamletIn happy time.LordThe queen desires you to use some gentleentertainment to Laertes before you fall to play.HamletShe well instructs me.
Exit Lord

HoratioYou will lose this wager, my lord.HamletI do not think so: since he went into France, Ihave been in continual practise: I shall win at theodds. But thou wouldst not think how ill all's hereabout my heart: but it is no matter.HoratioNay, good my lord,--HamletIt is but foolery; but it is such a kind ofgain-giving, as would perhaps trouble a woman.HoratioIf your mind dislike any thing, obey it: I willforestall their repair hither, and say you are notfit.HamletNot a whit, we defy augury: there's a specialprovidence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now,'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will benow; if it be not now, yet it will come: thereadiness is all: since no man has aught of what heleaves, what is't to leave betimes? Let be.
Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, LAERTES, Lords, OSRIC, and Attendants with foils, &c

King ClaudiusCome, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me.
KING CLAUDIUS puts LAERTES' hand into HAMLET's

HamletGive me your pardon, sir: I've done you wrong;But pardon't, as you are a gentleman.This presence knows,And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'dWith sore distraction. What I have done,That might your nature, honour and exceptionRoughly awake, I here proclaim was madness.Was't Hamlet wrong'd Laertes? Never Hamlet:If Hamlet from himself be ta'en away,And when he's not himself does wrong Laertes,Then Hamlet does it not, Hamlet denies it.Who does it, then? His madness: if't be so,Hamlet is of the faction that is wrong'd;His madness is poor Hamlet's enemy.Sir, in this audience,Let my disclaiming from a purposed evilFree me so far in your most generous thoughts,That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,And hurt my brother.LaertesI am satisfied in nature,Whose motive, in this case, should stir me mostTo my revenge: but in my terms of honourI stand aloof; and will no reconcilement,Till by some elder masters, of known honour,I have a voice and precedent of peace,To keep my name ungored. But till that time,I do receive your offer'd love like love,And will not wrong it.HamletI embrace it freely;And will this brother's wager frankly play.Give us the foils. Come on.LaertesCome, one for me.HamletI'll be your foil, Laertes: in mine ignoranceYour skill shall, like a star i' the darkest night,Stick fiery off indeed.LaertesYou mock me, sir.HamletNo, by this hand.King ClaudiusGive them the foils, young Osric. Cousin Hamlet,You know the wager?HamletVery well, my lord;Your grace hath laid the odds o' the weaker side.King ClaudiusI do not fear it; I have seen you both:But since he is better'd, we have therefore odds.LaertesThis is too heavy, let me see another.HamletThis likes me well. These foils have all a length?
They prepare to play

OsricAy, my good lord.King ClaudiusSet me the stoops of wine upon that table.If Hamlet give the first or second hit,Or quit in answer of the third exchange,Let all the battlements their ordnance fire:The king shall drink to Hamlet's better breath;And in the cup an union shall he throw,Richer than that which four successive kingsIn Denmark's crown have worn. Give me the cups;And let the kettle to the trumpet speak,The trumpet to the cannoneer without,The cannons to the heavens, the heavens to earth,'Now the king drinks to Hamlet.' Come, begin:And you, the judges, bear a wary eye.HamletCome on, sir.LaertesCome, my lord.
They play

HamletOne.LaertesNo.HamletJudgment.OsricA hit, a very palpable hit.LaertesWell; again.King ClaudiusStay; give me drink. Hamlet, this pearl is thine;Here's to thy health.
Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within
Give him the cup.HamletI'll play this bout first; set it by awhile. Come.
They play
Another hit; what say you?LaertesA touch, a touch, I do confess.King ClaudiusOur son shall win.Queen GertrudeHe's fat, and scant of breath.Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows;The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet.HamletGood madam!King ClaudiusGertrude, do not drink.Queen GertrudeI will, my lord; I pray you, pardon me.King ClaudiusAside It is the poison'd cup: it is too late.HamletI dare not drink yet, madam; by and by.Queen GertrudeCome, let me wipe thy face.LaertesMy lord, I'll hit him now.King ClaudiusI do not think't.LaertesAside And yet 'tis almost 'gainst my conscience.HamletCome, for the third, Laertes: you but dally;I pray you, pass with your best violence;I am afeard you make a wanton of me.LaertesSay you so? come on.
They play

OsricNothing, neither way.LaertesHave at you now!
LAERTES wounds HAMLET; then in scuffling, they change rapiers, and HAMLET wounds LAERTES

King ClaudiusPart them; they are incensed.HamletNay, come, again.
QUEEN GERTRUDE falls

OsricLook to the queen there, ho!HoratioThey bleed on both sides. How is it, my lord?OsricHow is't, Laertes?LaertesWhy, as a woodcock to mine own springe, Osric;I am justly kill'd with mine own treachery.HamletHow does the queen?King ClaudiusShe swounds to see them bleed.Queen GertrudeNo, no, the drink, the drink,--O my dear Hamlet,--The drink, the drink! I am poison'd.
Dies

HamletO villany! Ho! let the door be lock'd:Treachery! Seek it out.LaertesIt is here, Hamlet: Hamlet, thou art slain;No medicine in the world can do thee good;In thee there is not half an hour of life;The treacherous instrument is in thy hand,Unbated and envenom'd: the foul practiseHath turn'd itself on me lo, here I lie,Never to rise again: thy mother's poison'd:I can no more: the king, the king's to blame.HamletThe point!--envenom'd too!Then, venom, to thy work.
Stabs KING CLAUDIUS

AllTreason! treason!King ClaudiusO, yet defend me, friends; I am but hurt.


Hamlet kill his uncle, the King Claudius, by Moreau.HamletHere, thou incestuous, murderous, damned Dane,Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?Follow my mother.
KING CLAUDIUS dies

LaertesHe is justly served;It is a poison temper'd by himself.Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet:Mine and my father's death come not upon thee,Nor thine on me.
Dies

HamletHeaven make thee free of it! I follow thee.I am dead, Horatio. Wretched queen, adieu!You that look pale and tremble at this chance,That are but mutes or audience to this act,Had I but time--as this fell sergeant, death,Is strict in his arrest--O, I could tell you--But let it be. Horatio, I am dead;Thou livest; report me and my cause arightTo the unsatisfied.HoratioNever believe it:I am more an antique Roman than a Dane:Here's yet some liquor left.HamletAs thou'rt a man,Give me the cup: let go; by heaven, I'll have't.O good Horatio, what a wounded name,Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!If thou didst ever hold me in thy heartAbsent thee from felicity awhile,And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain,To tell my story.
March afar off, and shot within
What warlike noise is this?OsricYoung Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland,To the ambassadors of England givesThis warlike volley.HamletO, I die, Horatio;The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit:I cannot live to hear the news from England;But I do prophesy the election lightsOn Fortinbras: he has my dying voice;So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less,Which have solicited. The rest is silence.
Dies

HoratioNow cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!Why does the drum come hither?

March within Enter FORTINBRAS, the English Ambassadors, and others

Prince FortinbrasWhere is this sight?HoratioWhat is it ye would see?If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.Prince FortinbrasThis quarry cries on havoc. O proud death,What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,That thou so many princes at a shotSo bloodily hast struck?First AmbassadorThe sight is dismal;And our affairs from England come too late:The ears are senseless that should give us hearing,To tell him his commandment is fulfill'd,That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead:Where should we have our thanks?HoratioNot from his mouth,Had it the ability of life to thank you:He never gave commandment for their death.But since, so jump upon this bloody question,You from the Polack wars, and you from England,Are here arrived give order that these bodiesHigh on a stage be placed to the view;And let me speak to the yet unknowing worldHow these things came about: so shall you hearOf carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts,Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters,Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,And, in this upshot, purposes mistookFall'n on the inventors' heads: all this can ITruly deliver.Prince FortinbrasLet us haste to hear it,And call the noblest to the audience.For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune:I have some rights of memory in this kingdom,Which now to claim my vantage doth invite me.HoratioOf that I shall have also cause to speak,And from his mouth whose voice will draw on more;But let this same be presently perform'd,Even while men's minds are wild; lest more mischanceOn plots and errors, happen.Prince FortinbrasLet four captainsBear Hamlet, like a soldier, to the stage;For he was likely, had he been put on,To have proved most royally: and, for his passage,The soldiers' music and the rites of warSpeak loudly for him.Take up the bodies: such a sight as thisBecomes the field, but here shows much amiss.Go, bid the soldiers shoot.
A dead march. Exeunt, bearing off the dead bodies; after which a peal of ordnance is shot off

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