Hamlet Part 7

[Enter Ophelia.]

How now, Ophelia! what's the matter?

Oph.

Alas, my lord, I have been so affrighted!

Pol.

With what, i' the name of G.o.d?

Oph.

My lord, as I was sewing in my chamber, Lord Hamlet,--with his doublet all unbrac'd; No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, Ungart'red, and down-gyved to his ankle; Pale as his s.h.i.+rt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosed out of h.e.l.l To speak of horrors,--he comes before me.

Pol.

Mad for thy love?

Oph.

My lord, I do not know; But truly I do fear it.

Pol.

What said he?

Oph.

He 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 face As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; At last,--a little shaking of mine arm, And thrice his head thus waving up and down,-- He rais'd a sigh so piteous and profound As it did seem to shatter all his bulk And 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 help, And to the last bended their light on me.

Pol.

Come, go with me: I will go seek the king.

This is the very ecstasy of love; Whose violent property fordoes itself, And leads the will to desperate undertakings, As oft as any pa.s.sion under heaven That does afflict our natures. I am sorry,-- What, have you given him any hard words of late?

Oph.

No, my good lord; but, as you did command, I did repel his letters and denied His access to me.

Pol.

That hath made him mad.

I am sorry that with better heed and judgment I had not quoted him: I fear'd he did but trifle, And meant to wreck thee; but beshrew my jealousy!

It seems it as proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions As it is common for the younger sort To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king: This must be known; which, being kept close, might move More grief to hide than hate to utter love.

[Exeunt.]

Scene II. A room in the Castle.

[Enter King, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Attendants.]

King.

Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern!

Moreover that we much did long to see you, The need we have to use you did provoke Our hasty sending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet's transformation; so I call it, Since nor the exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was. What it should be, More than his father's death, that thus hath put him So 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 since so neighbour'd to his youth and humour, That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time: so by your companies To 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.

Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you, And sure I am two men there are not living To whom he more adheres. If it will please you To show us so much gentry and good-will As to expend your time with us awhile, For the supply and profit of our hope, Your visitation shall receive such thanks As fits a king's remembrance.

Ros.

Both your majesties Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty.

Guil.

We both obey, And here give up ourselves, in the full bent, To lay our service freely at your feet, To be commanded.

King.

Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.

Queen.

Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz: And I beseech you instantly to visit My too-much-changed son.--Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.

Guil.

Heavens make our presence and our practices Pleasant and helpful to him!

Queen.

Ay, amen!

[Exeunt Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and some Attendants].

[Enter Polonius.]

Pol.

Th' amba.s.sadors from Norway, my good lord, Are joyfully return'd.

King.

Thou still hast been the father of good news.

Pol.

Have I, my lord? a.s.sure you, my good liege, I hold my duty, as I hold my soul, Both to my G.o.d and to my gracious king: And I do think,--or else this brain of mine Hunts not the trail of policy so sure As it hath us'd to do,--that I have found The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy.

King.

O, speak of that; that do I long to hear.

Pol.

Give first admittance to the amba.s.sadors; My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.

King.

Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in.

[Exit Polonius.]

He tells me, my sweet queen, he hath found The head and source of all your son's distemper.

Queen.

I doubt it is no other but the main,-- His father's death and our o'erhasty marriage.

King.

Well, we shall sift him.

[Enter Polonius, with Voltimand and Cornelius.]

Welcome, my good friends!

Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway?

Volt.

Most fair return of greetings and desires.

Upon our first, he sent out to suppress His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack; But, better look'd into, he truly found It was against your highness; whereat griev'd,-- That so his sickness, age, and impotence Was falsely borne in hand,--sends out arrests On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys; Receives rebuke from Norway; and, in fine, Makes vow before his uncle never more To give th' a.s.say 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, [Gives a paper.]

That it might please you to give quiet pa.s.s Through your dominions for this enterprise, On such regards of safety and allowance As therein are set down.

King.

It 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.]

Pol.

This business is well ended.-- My liege, and madam,--to expostulate What majesty should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night is 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 n.o.ble 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.

More matter, with less art.

Pol.

Madam, 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 remains That 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 whilst 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 most beautified Ophelia,'-- That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is a vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus: [Reads.]

'In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.'

Queen.

Came this from Hamlet to her?

Pol.