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 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 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 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 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 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, etc.'

Queen.

Came this from Hamlet to her?

Pol.

Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful.

[Reads.]

  '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 show'd 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 honourable.

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 sphere;

This must not be:' and then I precepts 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, repulsed,--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 wail 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.

Pol.

Take this from this, if this be otherwise:

[Points to his head and shoulder.]

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 for 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 he 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.

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.]

[Enter Hamlet, reading.]

How does my good Lord Hamlet?

Ham.

Well, God-a-mercy.

Pol.

Do you know me, my lord?

Ham.

Excellent well; you're 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.

I have, my lord.

Ham.

Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a blessing, but not as your daughter may conceive:--friend, look to't.

Pol.

How say you by that?--[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?