– Welcome, my good friends!

Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway?

VOL.

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' assay of arms against your Majesty.

Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy,

Gives him threescore 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 pass

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 considered time we'll read,

Answer, and think upon this business.

Mean time, we thank you for your well-took labor.

Go to your rest, at night we'll feast together.

Most welcome home!

 

Exeunt Embassadors [and Attendants].

 

POL.

This business is well ended.

My liege, and madam, to expostulate

What 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.

More matter with less art.

POL.

Madam, I swear I use no art at all.

That he's 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 while she is mine –

Who in her duty and obedience, mark,

Hath given me this. Now gather, and surmise.

 

[Reads the salutation of the letter.]

 

»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:

»In her excellent white bosom, these, etc.«

QUEEN. Came this from Hamlet to her?

POL. Good madam, stay awhile. I will be faithful.

 

[Reads the] letter.

 

»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 that I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu.

Thine evermore, most dear lady,

whilst this 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.

But how hath she

Receiv'd his love?

POL.

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 [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 prescripts 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 repell'd, 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.

Do you think ['tis] this?

QUEEN.

It may be, very like.

POL.

Hath there been such a time – I would fain know that –

That I have positively said, »'Tis so,«

When it prov'd otherwise?

KING.

Not that I know.

POL [Points to his head and shoulder.]

Take this from this, if this be otherwise.

If circumstances lead me, I will find

Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed

Within the centre.

KING.

How may we try it further?

POL.

You know sometimes he walks four hours together

Here in the lobby.

QUEEN.

So he does indeed.

POL.

At 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 not,

And be not from his reason fall'n thereon,

Let me be no assistant for a state,

But keep a farm and carters.

KING.

We will try it.

 

Enter Hamlet [reading on a book].

 

QUEEN.

But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.

POL.

Away, I do beseech you, both away.

I'll board him presently.

 

Exeunt King and Queen.

 

O, give me leave,

How does my good Lord Hamlet?

HAM. Well, God-a-mercy.

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 pick'd out of ten thousand.

POL. That's very true, my lord.

HAM. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a good kissing carrion – Have you a daughter?

POL. I have, my lord.

HAM.