Hamlet play script pdf




















So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. Marry, well bethought! What is between you? Give me up the truth. He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders Of his affection to me.

You speak like a green girl, Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? I do not know, my lord, what I should think, Polonius. Marry, I will teach you! Think yourself a baby That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly, Or not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Running it thus you'll tender me a fool.

My lord, he hath importun'd me with love In honourable fashion. Ay, fashion you may call it. Go to, go to! And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks! I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter, Giving more light than heat, extinct in both Even in their promise, as it is a-making, You must not take for fire.

From this time Be something scanter of your maiden presence. Set your entreatments at a higher rate Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Believe so much in him, that he is young, And with a larger tether may he walk Than may be given you.

In few, Ophelia, Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, Not of that dye which their investments show, But mere implorators of unholy suits, Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, The better to beguile. This is for all: I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth Have you so slander any moment leisure As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. Look to't, I charge you. Come your ways. I shall obey, my lord. Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus.

The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. It is a nipping and an eager air. What hour now? I think it lacks of twelve. No, it is struck. I heard it not. It then draws near the season Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. The King doth wake to-night and takes his rouse, Keeps wassail, and the swagg'ring upspring reels, And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, The kettledrum and trumpet thus bray out The triumph of his pledge.

Is it a custom? Ay, marry, is't; But to my mind, though I am native here And to the manner born, it is a custom More honour'd in the breach than the observance. This heavy-headed revel east and west Makes us traduc'd and tax'd of other nations; They clip us drunkards and with swinish phrase Soil our addition; and indeed it takes From our achievements, though perform'd at height, The pith and marrow of our attribute.

The dram of e'il Doth all the noble substance often dout To his own scandal. Look, my lord, it comes! Angels and ministers of grace defend us! Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, Be thy intents wicked or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape That I will speak to thee. I'll call thee Hamlet, King, father, royal Dane. O, answer me? Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell Why thy canoniz'd bones, hearsed in death, Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd, Hath op'd his ponderous and marble jaws To cast thee up again.

What may this mean That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel, Revisits thus the glimpses of the moon, Making night hideous, and we fools of nature So horridly to shake our disposition With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?

What should we do? Ghost beckons Hamlet. It beckons you to go away with it, As if it some impartment did desire To you alone. Look with what courteous action It waves you to a more removed ground. But do not go with it! No, by no means! It will not speak. Then will I follow it. Do not, my lord! Why, what should be the fear? I do not set my life at a pin's fee; And for my soul, what can it do to that, Being a thing immortal as itself?

I'll follow it. What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff That beetles o'er his base into the sea, And there assume some other, horrible form Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason And draw you into madness? Think of it. The very place puts toys of desperation, Without more motive, into every brain That looks so many fadoms to the sea And hears it roar beneath.

It waves me still. Go on. I'll follow thee. You shall not go, my lord. Hold off your hands! Be rul'd. You shall not go. My fate cries out And makes each petty artire in this body As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. Unhand me, gentlemen.

By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! Exeunt Ghost and Hamlet. He waxes desperate with imagination. Let's follow. Have after. To what issue will this come? Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. Heaven will direct it. Nay, let's follow him. Enter Ghost and Hamlet. Whither wilt thou lead me? I'll go no further. Father's Ghost. Mark me.

I will. My hour is almost come, When I to sulph'rous and tormenting flames Must render up myself. Alas, poor ghost! Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing To what I shall unfold. I am bound to hear. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. I am thy father's spirit, Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confin'd to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purg'd away.

But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison house, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part, And each particular hair to stand on end Like quills upon the fretful porcupine. But this eternal blazon must not be To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list!

If thou didst ever thy dear father love- Hamlet. Revenge his foul and most unnatural murther. Murther most foul, as in the best it is; But this most foul, strange, and unnatural. Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift As meditation or the thoughts of love, May sweep to my revenge.

I find thee apt; And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed That rots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear. So the whole ear of Denmark Is by a forged process of my death Rankly abus'd. But know, thou noble youth, The serpent that did sting thy father's life Now wears his crown.

O my prophetic soul! My uncle? Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts- O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power So to seduce!

O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there, From me, whose love was of that dignity That it went hand in hand even with the vow I made to her in marriage, and to decline Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor To those of mine!

Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, My custom always of the afternoon, Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, With juice of cursed hebona in a vial, And in the porches of my ears did pour The leperous distilment; whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man That swift as quicksilver it courses through The natural gates and alleys of the body, And with a sudden vigour it doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk, The thin and wholesome blood.

So did it mine; And a most instant tetter bark'd about, Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust All my smooth body. Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd; Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, Unhous'led, disappointed, unanel'd, No reckoning made, but sent to my account With all my imperfections on my head.

O, horrible! If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not. Let not the royal bed of Denmark be A couch for luxury and damned incest. But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive Against thy mother aught. Leave her to heaven, And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once. The glowworm shows the matin to be near And gins to pale his uneffectual fire. Adieu, adieu, adieu! Remember me. O all you host of heaven!

O earth! What else? Hold, hold, my heart! And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee? Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat In this distracted globe. Yes, by heaven! O most pernicious woman! O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! My tables! Meet it is I set it down That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark. Now to my word: It is 'Adieu, adieu!

Enter Horatio and Marcellus. Lord Hamlet! Heaven secure him! So be it! Illo, ho, ho, my lord! Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come. How is't, my noble lord? What news, my lord? O, wonderful! Good my lord, tell it. No, you will reveal it. Not I, my lord, by heaven! Nor I, my lord. How say you then? Would heart of man once think it? There's neer a villain dwelling in all Denmark But he's an arrant knave.

There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave To tell us this. Why, right! You are in the right! And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands and part; You, as your business and desires shall point you, For every man hath business and desire, Such as it is; and for my own poor part, Look you, I'll go pray. These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. I am sorry they offend you, heartily; Yes, faith, heartily.

There's no offence, my lord. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, And much offence too. Touching this vision here, It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you. And now, good friends, As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers, Give me one poor request. What is't, my lord? We will. Never make known what you have seen to-night. Nay, but swear't. In faith, My lord, not I. Nor I, my lord- in faith. Upon my sword.

We have sworn, my lord, already. Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. Ghost cries under the stage. Aha boy, say'st thou so? Art thou there, truepenny? Come on! You hear this fellow in the cellarage. Consent to swear.

Propose the oath, my lord. Never to speak of this that you have seen. Swear by my sword. Hic et ubique? Then we'll shift our ground. Come hither, gentlemen, And lay your hands again upon my sword.

Never to speak of this that you have heard: Swear by my sword. Well said, old mole! Canst work i' th' earth so fast? Once more remove, good friends. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. Here, as before, never, so help you mercy, How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself As I perchance hereafter shall think meet To put an antic disposition on , That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, With arms encumb'red thus, or this head-shake, Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,' Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,' Or such ambiguous giving out, to note That you know aught of me- this is not to do, So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear.

Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! So, gentlemen, With all my love I do commend me to you; And what so poor a man as Hamlet is May do t' express his love and friending to you, God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together; And still your fingers on your lips, I pray.

The time is out of joint. O cursed spite That ever I was born to set it right! Nay, come, let's go together. Enter Polonius and Reynaldo. Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. I will, my lord. You shall do marvell's wisely, good Reynaldo, Before You visit him, to make inquire Of his behaviour. My lord, I did intend it. Marry, well said, very well said. Look you, sir, Enquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, What company, at what expense; and finding By this encompassment and drift of question That they do know my son, come you more nearer Than your particular demands will touch it.

Ay, very well, my lord. As gaming, my lord. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, Drabbing. You may go so far. My lord, that would dishonour him.

Faith, no, as you may season it in the charge. You must not put another scandal on him, That he is open to incontinency. That's not my meaning. But breathe his faults so quaintly That they may seem the taints of liberty, The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, A savageness in unreclaimed blood, Of general assault. But, my good lord- Polonius. Wherefore should you do this?

Ay, my lord, I would know that. Marry, sir, here's my drift, And I believe it is a fetch of warrant. Very good, my lord. And then, sir, does 'a this- 'a does- What was I about to say? By the mass, I was about to say something!

Where did I leave? At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' and gentleman. At 'closes in the consequence'- Ay, marry!

He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman. I saw him yesterday, or t'other day, Or then, or then, with such or such; and, as you say, There was 'a gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse; There falling out at tennis'; or perchance, 'I saw him enter such a house of sale,' Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth.

See you now- Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth; And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, With windlasses and with assays of bias, By indirections find directions out. So, by my former lecture and advice, Shall you my son. You have me, have you not? My lord, I have. God b' wi' ye, fare ye well! Good my lord! Observe his inclination in yourself. I shall, my lord. And let him ply his music. Well, my lord. What's the matter? O my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted!

With what, i' th' name of God? My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbrac'd, No hat upon his head, his stockings foul'd, Ungart'red, and down-gyved to his ankle; Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other, And with a look so piteous in purport As if he had been loosed out of hell To speak of horrors- he comes before me.

Mad for thy love? My lord, I do not know, But truly I do fear it. What said he? 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. That done, he lets me go, And with his head over his shoulder turn'd He seem'd to find his way without his eyes, For out o' doors he went without their help And to the last bended their light on me. Come, go with me. I will go seek the King. I am sorry. No, my good lord; but, as you did command, I did repel his letters and denied His access to me. That hath made him mad.

I fear'd he did but trifle And meant to wrack thee; but beshrew my jealousy! By heaven, it is as proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions As it is common for the younger sort To lack discretion. Come, go we to the King. This must be known; which, being kept close, might move More grief to hide than hate to utter love.

Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Moreover that we much did long to see you, The need we have to use you did provoke Our hasty sending. Something have you heard Of Hamlet's transformation. So I call it, Sith nor th' exterior nor the inward man Resembles that it was. What it should be, More than his father's death, that thus hath put him So much from th' understanding of himself, I cannot dream of.

I entreat you both That, being of so young days brought up with him, And since so neighbour'd to his youth and haviour, That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court Some little time; so by your companies To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather So much as from occasion you may glean, Whether aught to us unknown afflicts him thus That, open'd, lies within our remedy.

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 To show us so much gentry and good will As to expend your time with us awhile For the supply and profit of our hope, Your visitation shall receive such thanks As fits a king's remembrance.

Both your Majesties Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty. But we both obey, And here give up ourselves, in the full bent, To lay our service freely at your feet, To be commanded. Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern. Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz. And I beseech you instantly to visit My too much changed son. Heavens make our presence and our practices Pleasant and helpful to him!

Ay, amen! Enter Polonius. Th' ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, Are joyfully return'd. Thou still hast been the father of good news. Have I, my lord? Assure you, my good liege, I hold my duty as I hold my soul, Both to my God and to my gracious king; And I 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.

O, speak of that! That do I long to hear. Give first admittance to th' ambassadors. My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. I doubt it is no other but the main, His father's death and our o'erhasty marriage. Well, we shall sift him. Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway?

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 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. It likes us well; And at our more consider'd time we'll read, Answer, and think upon this business.

Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together. Most welcome home! Exeunt Ambassadors. 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. More matter, with less art. 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. Now gather, and surmise. But you shall hear. Thus: [Reads. Came this from Hamlet to her? Good madam, stay awhile.

I will be faithful. But how hath she Receiv'd his love? What do you think of me? As of a man faithful and honourable. 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. 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 mourn for.

Do you think 'tis this? Not that I know. If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre.

How may we try it further? You know sometimes he walks for hours together Here in the lobby. So he does indeed. At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him. Be you and I behind an arras then.

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. We will try it. But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. Away, I do beseech you, both away I'll board him presently. O, give me leave. Well, God-a-mercy. Do you know me, my lord? Excellent well. You are a fishmonger. You can get your own copy of this text to keep.

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Hamlet: Entire Play. Synopsis: Events before the start of Hamlet set the stage for tragedy. Contents Characters in the Play. Entire Play Events before the start of Hamlet set the stage for tragedy. Act 1, scene 2 In an audience chamber in Elsinore, Claudius, the new king of Denmark, holds court. Act 1, scene 5 The Ghost tells Hamlet a tale of horror.

Act 2, scene 2 Claudius and Gertrude set Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, two boyhood friends of Hamlet, to spy on him. Act 4, scene 3 Hamlet is brought to Claudius, who tells him that he is to leave immediately for England.

Act 4, scene 5 Reports reach Gertrude that Ophelia is mad. Act 5, scene 1 Hamlet, returned from his journey, comes upon a gravedigger singing as he digs.

What are you waiting for? All the cocks. Now I tie. Now, i tear the wedding dress. Now, I smear the shreds of the.

Now, I take you, my mother, in his. I stifle your scream with my lips. Do you. Now go to your wedding, whore, in the. Then let me eat your heart ophelia, which weeps my tears. Snow on her lips. I walk into the street clothed in my blood. He violently grabs the camera and begins to reveal the tv studio and the set. Behind me the set is. The set is a monument. My drama, if it still would happen, would happen in. I look through the.

Shaking with fear and contempt, I see. I string up my uniformed flesh by my own heels. I am the soldier. I am the typewriter. I tie the noose when the ringleaders.



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