ACT II. SCENE I. Hamlet ha. 10w put on his counterfeit madness. He visits Ophelia in this "antic guise," and the affrighted maiden narrates to her father the circumstances attending is visit. OPHELIA.-POLONIUS. Poi. How now, Ophelia ? what's the matter? Oph. O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted! Pol. With what, in the name of heaven. Oph. My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd; Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; Pol. Mad for thy love? But, truly, I do fear it. Pol. My lord, I do not know; 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; And thrice his head thus waving up and down,- And end his being: That done, he lets me go: Pol. Come, go with me; I will go seek the king. What, have you given him any hard words of late? His access to me. Come, go we to the king: This must be known; which, being kept close, might move SCENE II.-A Room in the Castle. [Exeunt Enter KING, QUEEN, 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 That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court To draw him on to pleasures; and to gather, 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 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, Than to entreaty. Guil. But we both obey; King. Thanks, Rosencrantz, and gentle Guildenstern. My too much changed son.—Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. [Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and some Attendants Enter POLONIUS. Pol. I now 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. What majesty should be, what duty is, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,- Queen. More matter, with less art. And pity tis, 'tis true: a foolish figure ; : Mad let us grant him then and now remains, I have a daughter; have, while she is mine; Hath given me this: Now gather, and surmise. 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; kut you shall hear.Thus : In her excellent white bosom, these, &c.— Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her? Pol. Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.--- Doubt thou, the stars are fire; Doubt, that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt, I love. [Reads. O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; I have not art to reckon my groans: but that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me: As they fell out by time, by means, and place, King. Receiv'd his love? Pol. But how hath she What do you think of me? King. As of a man faithful and honorable. Pol. I would fain prove so. But what might you think, When I had seen this hot love on the wing, (As I perceiv'd 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 working, mute and dumb, Or look'd upon this love with idle sight; What might you think? no, I went round to work, This must not be: and then I precepts gave her, That she should lock herself from his resort, Thence to a watch; thence into a weakness; And all we mourn for. King. Do you think, 'tis this? Queen. It may be, very likely. Pol. Hath there been such a time, (I'd fain know that,) That I have positively said, 'Tis so, When it prov'd otherwise? King. Not that I know. [Pointing to his head and shoulder. Pol. Take this from this, if this be otherwise: If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Be Queen. How may we try it further? sometimes he walks for hours together, So he does, indeed. Pol. At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him: you and I behind an arras then; Mark the encounter; if he love her not, And be not from his reason fallen thereon, Let me be no assistant for a state, But keep a farm, and carters. King. We will try it. Enter HAMLET, reading. Queen. But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. Pol. Away, I do beseech you, both away; I'll board him presently :-O, give me leave.— [Exeunt KING, QUEEN, and Attendants. How does my good lord Hamlet? Ham. Excellent well. Pol. Do you know me, my lord? Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger. Pol. Not I, my lord. Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man. Pol. Honest, my lord? Ham. Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand. Pol. That's very true, my lord. Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god, kissing carrion,- -Have you a daughter? Pol. [Aside.] Still harping on my daughter-yet he knew me not at first; he said I was a fishmonger: He is far gone, far gone: and truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for love: very near this. I'll speak to him again.-What do you read, my lord? Ham. Words, words, words! Pol. What is the matter, my lord? Ham. Between who? Pol. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. Ham. Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here, that old men have gray beards; that their faces are wrinkled; their eyes purging thick amber, and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams: All of which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hoid it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, shall be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward. Pol. Though this be madness, yet there's method in it. [Aside.] Will you walk out of the air, my lord? Ham. Into my grave? Pol. Indeed, that is out o' the air.-How pregnant sometimes his replies are a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter.-My honorable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you. Ham. You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal; except my life, except my life, except my life. Pol. Fare you well, my lord. Ham. These tedious old fools! Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Pol. You go to seek the lord Hamlet; there he is. Ros. Heaven save you, sir! [TO POLONIUS. [Exit POLONIUS. Guil. My honor'd lord !-Ham. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both? What news? Ros. None, my lord; but that the world's grown honest. Ham. Then is doomsday near: But your news is not true. But in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore ? Ros. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you. Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, come; deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak. Guil. What should we say, my lord? Ham. Any thing-but to the purpose. You were sent for; and nere is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not craft enough to color: I know, the good king and queen have sent for you. |