William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (317 page)

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Authors: William Shakespeare

Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare

BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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ROSENCRANTZ God save you, sir.
GUILDENSTERN ⌈
to Polonius
⌉ Mine honoured lord. ⌈
Exit Polonius

ROSENCRANTZ (
to Hamlet
) My most dear lord.
HAMLET My ex’llent good friends. How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz—good lads, how do ye both?
ROSENCRANTZ
As the indifferent children of the earth.
GUILDENSTERN
Happy in that we are not over-happy,
On Fortune’s cap we are not the very button.
HAMLET Nor the soles of her shoe?
ROSENCRANTZ Neither, my lord.
HAMLET Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favour?
GUILDENSTERN Faith, her privates we.
HAMLET In the secret parts of Fortune? O, most true, she is a strumpet. What’s the news?
ROSENCRANTZ None, my lord, but that the world’s grown honest.
HAMLET Then is doomsday near. But your news is not true. Let me question more in particular. What have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of Fortune that she sends you to prison hither?
GUILDENSTERN Prison, my lord?
HAMLET Denmark’s a prison.
ROSENCRANTZ Then is the world one.
HAMLET A goodly one, in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons, Denmark being one o’th’ worst.
ROSENCRANTZ We think not so, my lord.
HAMLET Why, then ’tis none to you, for there is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so. To me it is a prison.
ROSENCRANTZ Why, then your ambition makes it one; ’tis too narrow for your mind.
HAMLET O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.
GUILDENSTERN Which dreams indeed are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
HAMLET A dream itself is but a shadow.
ROSENCRANTZ Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is but a shadow’s shadow.
HAMLET Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and outstretched heroes the beggars’ shadows. Shall we to th’ court? For, by my fay, I cannot reason.
ROSENCRANTZ
and
GUILDENSTERN We’ll wait upon you.
HAMLET No such matter. I will not sort you with the rest of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most dreadfully attended. But in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore?
ROSENCRANTZ To visit you, my lord, no other occasion.
HAMLET Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks, but I thank you; and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, deal justly with me. Come, come. Nay, speak. 278
GUILDENSTERN What should we say, my lord?
HAMLET Why, anything—but to th’ purpose. You were sent for, and there is a kind of confession in your looks which your modesties have not craft enough to colour. I know the good King and Queen have sent for you.
ROSENCRANTZ To what end, my lord?
HAMLET That you must teach me. But let me conjure you by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct with me whether you were sent for or no.
ROSENCRANTZ (
to Guildenstern
) What say you?
HAMLET Nay then, I have an eye of you—if you love me, hold not off.
GUILDENSTERN My lord, we were sent for.
HAMLET I will tell you why. So shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the King and Queen moult no feather. I have of late—but wherefore I know not—tost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercise; and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory. This most excellent canopy the air, look you, this brave o’erhanging, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire—why, it appears no other thing to me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculty, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god—the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! And yet to me what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me—no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling you seem to say so.
ROSENCRANTZ My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
HAMLET Why did you laugh, then, when I said ‘Man delights not me’?
ROSENCRANTZ To think, my lord, if you delight not in man what lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you. We coted them on the way, and hither are they coming to offer you service.
HAMLET He that plays the King shall be welcome; his majesty shall have tribute of me. The adventurous Knight shall use his foil and target, the Lover shall not sigh gratis, the Humorous Man shall end his part in peace, the Clown shall make those laugh whose lungs are tickled o’th’ sear, and the Lady shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt for’t. What players are they?
ROSENCRANTZ Even those you were wont to take delight in, the tragedians of the city.
HAMLET How chances it they travel? Their residence both in reputation and profit was better both ways.
ROSENCRANTZ I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation.
HAMLET Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city? Are they so followed?
ROSENCRANTZ No, indeed, they are not.
HAMLET How comes it? Do they grow rusty?
ROSENCRANTZ Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace. But there is, sir, an eyrie of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question and are most tyrannically clapped for’t. These are now the fashion, and so berattle the common stages—so they call them—that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither.
HAMLET What, are they children? Who maintains ’em? How are they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing? Will they not say afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common players—as it is like most will, if their means are not better—their writers do them wrong to make them exclaim against their own succession?
ROSENCRANTZ Faith, there has been much to-do on both sides, and the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to controversy. There was for a while no money bid for argument unless the poet and the player went to cuffs in the question.
HAMLET Is’t possible?
GUILDENSTERN O, there has been much throwing about of brains.
HAMLET Do the boys carry it away?
ROSENCRANTZ Ay, that they do, my lord, Hercules and his load too.
HAMLET It is not strange; for mine uncle is King of Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while my father lived give twenty, forty, an hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little. ’Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.
A flourish for the Players
 
GUILDENSTERN There are the players.
HAMLET Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, come. Th’appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony. Let me comply with you in the garb, lest my extent to the players—which, I tell you, must show fairly outward—shoutd more appear like entertainment than yours.

He shakes hands with them

 
You are welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
GUILDENSTERN In what, my dear lord?
HAMLET I am but mad north-north-west; when the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.
Enter Polonius
 
POLONIUS Well be with you, gentlemen.
HAMLET (aside) Hark you, Guildenstern, and you too—at each ear a hearer—that great baby you see there is not yet out of his swathing-clouts.
ROSENCRANTZ (
aside
) Haply he’s the second time come to them, for they say an old man is twice a child.
HAMLET (aside) I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players. Mark it.—You say right, sir, for o’ Monday morning, ’twas so indeed.
POLONIUS My lord, I have news to tell you.
HAMLET My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome—
POLONIUS The actors are come hither, my lord.
HAMLET BUZZ, buzz.
POLONIUS Upon mine honour—
HAMLET Then came each actor on his ass.
POLONIUS The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastorical-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable or poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty, these are the only men.
HAMLET O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!
POLONIUS What a treasure had he, my lord?
HAMLET Why,
‘One fair daughter and no more,
The which he loved passing well’.
POLONIUS (
aside
) Still on my daughter.
HAMLET Am I not i’th’ right, old Jephthah?
POLONIUS If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love passing well.
HAMLET Nay, that follows not.
POLONIUS What follows then, my lord?
HAMLET Why
‘As by lot
God wot’,
and then you know
‘It came to pass
As most like it was’—
the first row of the pious chanson will show you more, for look where my abridgements come.
Enter four or five Players
 
You’re welcome, masters, welcome all.—Iam glad to see thee well.—Welcome, good friends.—O, my old friend! Thy face is valanced since I saw thee last. Com‘st thou to beard me in Denmark?—What, my young lady and mistress. By’r Lady, your ladyship is nearer heaven than when I saw you last by the altitude of a chopine. Pray God your voice, like a piece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the ring.—Masters, you are all welcome. We’ll e‘en to’t like French falc’ners, fly at anything we see. We’ll have a speech straight. Come, give us a taste of your quality. Come, a passionate speech.
FIRST PLAYER What speech, my good lord?
HAMLET I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was never acted, or, if it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleased not the million. ‘Twas caviare to the general. But it was—as I received it, and others whose judgements in such matters cried in the top of mine—an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down with as much modesty as cunning. I remember one said there was no sallets in the lines to make the matter savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might indict the author of affectation, but called it an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I chiefly loved, ’twas Aeneas’ tale to Dido, and thereabout of it especially where he speaks of Priam’s slaughter. If it live in your memory, begin at this line—let me see, let me see: ‘The rugged Pyrrhus, like th’Hyrcanian beast‘—’tis not so. It begins with Pyrrhus—‘The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, Black as his purpose, did the night resemble When he lay couched in the ominous horse, Hath now this dread and black complexion smeared With heraldry more dismal. Head to foot Now is he total gules, horridly tricked With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, Baked and impasted with the parching streets, That lend a tyrranous and damned light To their vile murders. Roasted in wrath and fire, And thus o’er-sizèd with coagulate gore, With eyes like carbuncles the hellish Pyrrhus Old grandsire Priam seeks’ So, proceed you.
POLONIUS Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good discretion.
FIRST PLAYER ‘Anon he finds him,
Striking too short at Greeks. His antique sword,
Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
Repugnant to command. Unequal match,
Pyrrhus at Priam drives, in rage strikes wide;
But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword
Th‘unnervèd father falls. Then senseless Ilium,
Seeming to feel his blow, with flaming top
Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash
Takes prisoner Pyrrhus’ ear. For lo, his sword,
Which was declining on the milky head
Of reverend Priam, seemed i’th’ air to stick.
So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood,
And, like a neutral to his will and matter,
Did nothing.
But as we often see against some storm
A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,
The bold winds speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region: so, after Pyrrhus’ pause,
A rousèd vengeance sets him new a-work;
And never did the Cyclops’ hammers fall
On Mars his armour, forged for proof eterne,
With less remorse than Pyrrhus’ bleeding sword
Now falls on Priam.
Out, out, thou strumpet Fortune! All you gods,
In general synod, take away her power,
Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,
And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven,
As low as to the fiends!’

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