ACT I Sc. II KING. Have you your father's leave? Polonius? What says POLO. He hath, my Lord, wrung from me my slow leave By laboursome petition; and, at last, Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent: I do beseech you, give him leave to go. KING. Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, But now, my Cousin Hamlet, and my Son— 60 HAM. [aside.] A little more than kin, and less than kind.1 KING. How is it that the clouds still hang on you? Seek for thy noble father in the dust: Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, HAM. Ay, Madam, it is common. Why seems it so particular with thee? HAM. Seems, Madam! nay, it is; I know not seems. "Tis not alone my inky cloak, good Mother, Nor customary suits of solemn black, Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath, your 70 80 nature, To give these mourning duties to your father: In filial obligation, for some term To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever 1 too nearly and too unnaturally related. 2 an allusion to the proverb-' Out 158 of God's blessing into the warm sun.' 90 In obstinate condolement, is a course Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief: As of a father: for let the world take note, 2 Than that which dearest father bears his son, Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come; 100 110 120 [Exeunt all but HAMLET. HAM. O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! 130 ACT I ACT I Sc. II His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! Seem to me all the uses of this World! Fie on 't! O, fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature By what it fed on: and yet, within a month 140 Let me not think on 't-Frailty, thy name is woman!— My father's brother; but no more like my father Than I to Hercules: within a month; Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not, nor it cannot come to, good: But break, my Heart, for I must hold my tongue! Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO. HAM. 150 I am glad to see you well: 161 Horatio-or I do forget myself. ever. HAM. Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? MARC. My good Lord 1 permit. HAM. I am very glad to see you. [to BERNARDO.] Good ACT I even, Sir. But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. 170 HAM. Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd meats 180 Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my dearest foe in Heaven HAM. In my mind's eye, Horatio. I shall not look upon his like again. HORA. My Lord, I think I saw him yesternight. HORA. My Lord, the King your father. 190 The King my father! HORA. Season your admiration for a while HAM. For God's love, let me hear. HORA. Two nights together had these gentlemen, In the dead waste and middle of the night, Been thus encounter'd: A figure like Arm'd at all points, exactly, cap-a-pe, your father, Appears before them, and with solemn march 200 Sc. II T ACT I By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes, Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me And I with them the third night kept the watch: Form of the thing, each word made true and good, These hands are not more like. HAM. But where was this? MARC. My Lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. HAM. Did you not speak to it? HORA. My Lord, I did; It lifted up it head, and did address Itself to motion, like as it would speak ; But even then the morning cock crew loud, HAM. "Tis very strange. HORA. As I do live, my honour'd Lord, 'tis true; HAM. Indeed, indeed, Sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night? 210 220 HORA. O, yes, my Lord; he wore his beaver up. 230 HAM. What, look'd he frowningly? HORA. A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. HAM. Pale, or red? HORA. Nay, very pale. |