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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET； PRINCE OF DENMARK
drab； A scullion！ Fie upon't！ foh！ About； my brain！ Hum； I have heard That
guilty creatures； sitting at a play； Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their
malefactions； For murther； though it have no tongue； will speak With most
miraculous organ； I'll have these Players Play something like the murther
of my father Before 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 seen May
be a devil； and the devil hath power T' assume a pleasing shape； yea； and
perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy； As he is very potent
with such spirits； Abuses me to damn me。 I'll have grounds More relative
than this。 The play's the thing Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the
King。 Exit。
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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET； PRINCE OF DENMARK
ACT III。
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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET； PRINCE OF DENMARK
SCENE I。 Elsinore。 A room in the Castle。
Enter King； Queen； Polonius； Ophelia； Rosencrantz； Guildenstern； and
Lords。
King。 And can you by no drift of circumstance Get from him why he
puts on this confusion； Grating so harshly all his days of quiet With
turbulent and dangerous lunacy？ Ros。 He does confess he feels himself
distracted； But from what cause he will by no means speak。 Guil。 Nor do
we find him forward to be sounded； But with a crafty madness keeps aloof
When we would bring him on to some confession Of his true state。 Queen。
Did he receive you well？ Ros。 Most like a gentleman。 Guil。 But with much
forcing of his disposition。 Ros。 Niggard of question； but of our demands
Most free in his reply。 Queen。 Did you assay him To any pastime？ Ros。
Madam； it so fell out that certain players We o'erraught on the way。 Of
these we told him； And there did seem in him a kind of joy To hear of it。
They are here about the court； And； as I think； they have already order
This night to play before him。 Pol。 'Tis most true； And he beseech'd me to
entreat your Majesties To hear and see the matter。 King。 With all my heart；
and it doth much content me To hear him so inclin'd。 Good gentlemen；
give him a further edge And drive his purpose on to these delights。 Ros。
We shall； my lord。 Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern。 King。 Sweet
Gertrude； leave us too； For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither； That he；
as 'twere by accident； may here Affront 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 behav'd； If't be
th' affliction of his love； or no； That thus he suffers for。 Queen。 I shall obey
you； And for your part； Ophelia； I do wish That your good beauties be the
happy cause Of Hamlet's wildness。 So shall I hope your virtues Will bring
him to his wonted way again； To both your honours。 Oph。 Madam； I wish
it may。＇Exit Queen。＇ Pol。 Ophelia； walk you here。… Gracious； so please you；
We will bestow ourselves。… ＇To Ophelia＇ Read on this book； That show of
such an exercise may colour Your loneliness。… We are oft to blame in this；
'Tis too much prov'd； that with devotion's visage And pious action we do
sugar o'er The Devil himself。 King。 ＇aside＇ O； 'tis too true！ How smart a
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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET； PRINCE OF DENMARK
lash that speech doth give my conscience！ The harlot's cheek； beautied
with plast'ring art； Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it Than is my
deed to my most painted word。 O heavy burthen！ Pol。 I hear him coming。
Let's withdraw； my lord。 Exeunt King and Polonius＇。
Enter Hamlet。
Ham。 To be； or not to be… that is the question： Whether 'tis nobler in
the mind to suffer The 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 end The heartache； and the
thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to。 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly 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 come When we
have shuffled off this mortal coil； Must give us pause。 There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life。 For who would bear the whips and
scorns of time； Th' oppressor's wrong； the proud man's contumely； The
pangs of despis'd love； the law's delay； The insolence of office； and the
spurns That patient merit of th' unworthy takes； When he himself might
his quietus make With 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 bourn No traveller returns…
puzzles the will； And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to
others that we know not of？ Thus conscience does make cowards of us all；
And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of
thought； And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their
currents turn awry And lose the name of action。… Soft you now！ The fair
Ophelia！… Nymph； in thy orisons Be all my sins rememb'red。 Oph。 Good
my lord； How does your honour for this many a day？ Ham。 I humbly
thank you； well； well； well。 Oph。 My lord； I have remembrances of yours
That I have longed long to re…deliver。 I pray you； now receive them。 Ham。
No； not I！ I never gave you aught。 Oph。 My honour'd lord； you know right
well you did； And with them words of so sweet breath compos'd As made