Original
Modern English
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, Since 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 humour, 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.
Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Also, we’ve been eager to see you, And the need we have for your help made us send for you quickly. You’ve probably heard something about Hamlet’s change; I call it that, Because neither his outer appearance nor his inner self Are like they were before. What could be causing this, more than his father’s death, That has pushed him so far away from understanding himself, I can’t even imagine. I ask both of you, Since you grew up with him and were close to his age and temperament, To spend some time here in our court, And, through your company, Try to encourage him to have fun and see if you can learn, From whatever you can observe, Whether something unknown is troubling him, That, once revealed, we can help him with.
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.
Good gentlemen, he’s talked a lot about you, And I’m sure there are no two men alive To whom he’s more devoted. If you’ll be so kind, As to spend some time with us, For the benefit of our hopes, We will thank you in a way that’s worthy of a king’s gratitude.
Both your majesties Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, Put your dread pleasures more into command Than to entreaty.
Both your majesties Could, with the authority you have over us, Command our service more directly, Instead of asking for it.
We both obey, And here give up ourselves, in the full bent, To lay our service freely at your feet To be commanded.
We are both at your service, And here we give ourselves fully, To offer our service freely at your feet To be commanded.
Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern.
Thank you, Rosencrantz and kind Guildenstern.
Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz. And I beseech you instantly to visit My too much changed son. Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.
Thank you, Guildenstern and kind Rosencrantz. And I beg you to go immediately to visit My son, who has changed so much. Go, some of you, And bring these gentlemen to where Hamlet is.
Heavens make our presence and our practices Pleasant and helpful to him.
May our presence and actions Be pleasant and helpful to him.
Ay, amen.
Yes, amen.
.
.
Th’ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, Are joyfully return’d.
The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, Have happily returned.
Thou still hast been the father of good news.
You’ve always been the bringer 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.
Have I, my lord? Rest assured, my good king, I hold my duty as dearly as my soul, Both to God and to my gracious king: And I truly believe—unless my mind isn’t working clearly, As it usually does—that I’ve discovered The true reason for Hamlet’s madness.
O speak of that, that do I long to hear.
Oh, tell me about that. That’s exactly what I’ve been wanting to hear.
Give first admittance to th’ambassadors; My news shall be the fruit to that great feast.
First, let the ambassadors be received; My news will be the dessert to that great feast.
Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in.
You bring them in yourself, and do them honor.
He tells me, my sweet queen, that he hath found The head and source of all your son’s distemper.
He tells me, my dear queen, that he has found The cause and reason for all your son’s troubles.
I doubt it is no other but the main, His father’s death and our o’erhasty marriage.
I think it’s nothing more than the main issue, His father’s death and our rushed marriage.
Well, we shall sift him.
Well, we’ll look into it carefully.
Welcome, my good friends! Say, Voltemand, what from our brother Norway?
Welcome, my good friends! Tell me, Voltemand, what’s the news from our brother in 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, [
] That you might allow safe passage Through your lands for this mission, Under the conditions of safety and allowances As listed in this 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.
] That you might allow safe passage Through your lands for this mission, Under the conditions of safety and allowances As listed in this paper.
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.
We are pleased with this; And when we have more time, we’ll read it, Reply, and think about this matter. In the meantime, we thank you for your hard work. Go get some rest; we’ll have a feast tonight. You’re most welcome here.
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.
This matter is well resolved. My lord and lady, to discuss What kingship should be, what duty is, Why day is day, night is night, and time is time, Would only be a waste of time. So, since brevity is the soul of wit, And rambling makes it worse, I’ll keep it short. Your noble son is mad. Mad, I call it; because what is true madness But simply being nothing else but mad? But let’s leave that for now.
More matter, with less art.
Get to the point, and stop being so wordy.
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. [
These; in her excellent white bosom, these, etc.
]
These; in her excellent white bosom, these, etc.
— That’s an ill phrase, a vile phrase;‘beautified’is a vile phrase: but you shall hear. [
These; in her excellent white bosom, these, etc.
]
These; in her excellent white bosom, these, etc.
Came this from Hamlet to her?
Did Hamlet send this to her?
Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful. [
This is what my daughter has shown me in obedience; And more than that, she has told me all his attempts, As they happened, over time, in place, and context. She’s told me everything.
]
This is what my daughter has shown me in obedience; And more than that, she has told me all his attempts, As they happened, over time, in place, and context. She’s told me everything.
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.
This is what my daughter has shown me in obedience; And more than that, she has told me all his attempts, As they happened, over time, in place, and context. She’s told me everything.
But how hath she receiv’d his love?
But how did she respond to his love?
What do you think of me?
What do you think of me?
As of a man faithful and honourable.
I think you are a faithful and honorable man.
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 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.
I want to prove that I am. But what would you think, If I had seen this intense love growing, As I noticed it, I have to tell you that, Before my daughter told me, what would you, Or my dear Queen here, think, If I had acted like a bookkeeper or a record keeper, Or just ignored it and stayed silent, Or just looked at this love without doing anything, What would you think? No, I took action, And this is what I said to my young daughter: ‘Prince Hamlet is far beyond your reach. This cannot happen.’ And then I gave her advice, That she should shut herself off from him, Not let any messengers in, or receive any gifts. After that, she followed my advice, And he, rejected, to keep it short, Fell into a deep sadness, then a fast, Then into a watch, then into weakness, Then into lightness, and, by this decline, Into the madness he is now in, And all of us are mourning.
Do you think’tis this?
Do you really think this is the cause?
It may be, very likely.
It’s very possible.
Hath there been such a time, I’d fain know that, That I have positively said‘’Tis so,’ When it prov’d otherwise?
Has there ever been a time, I’d like to know, When I have said ‘This is the case,’ And then it turned out to be wrong?
Not that I know.
Not that I know of.
Take this from this, if this be otherwise. [
] If circumstances guide me, I will find The truth, even if it’s hidden deep inside.
] If circumstances lead me, I will find Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed Within the centre.
] If circumstances guide me, I will find The truth, even if it’s hidden deep inside.
How may we try it further?
How can we test this further?
You know sometimes he walks four hours together Here in the lobby.
You know, sometimes he walks around for hours, Here in the lobby.
So he does indeed.
Yes, he does.
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.
At those times, I’ll let my daughter go to him. You and I will hide behind the curtains, And watch what happens. If he doesn’t love her, And hasn’t lost his mind over it, Then I’ll no longer help with the state, But I’ll just manage a farm and supervise workers.
We will try it.
We’ll try it.
But look where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.
But look, here comes the poor man, reading sadly.
Away, I do beseech you, both away I’ll board him presently. O, give me leave.
Get away, please, both of you, get away. I’ll approach him now. Oh, please, give me a moment.
How does my good Lord Hamlet?
How is my good Lord Hamlet doing?
Well, God-a-mercy.
I’m fine, thanks.
Do you know me, my lord?
Do you know who I am, my lord?
Excellent well. You’re a fishmonger.
Very well. You’re a fishmonger.
Not I, my lord.
Not me, my lord.
Then I would you were so honest a man.
Then I wish you were an honest man.
Honest, my lord?
Honest, my lord?
Ay sir, to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.
Yes, sir, to be honest in this world is like being the one good person out of ten thousand.
That’s very true, my lord.
That’s very true, my lord.
For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a good kissing carrion,— Have you a daughter?
Because if the sun causes maggots to grow in a dead dog, just because it’s a good rotting corpse— Do you have a daughter?
I have, my lord.
I have, my lord.
Let her not walk i’th’sun. Conception is a blessing, but not as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look to’t.
Don’t let her go out in the sun. Getting pregnant is a blessing, but not the way your daughter might get pregnant. Be careful.
How say you by that? [
] He keeps talking about my daughter. He didn’t recognize me at first; he called me a fishmonger. He’s really lost it. I went through a lot of suffering for love when I was young, almost like this. I’ll talk to him again. —What are you reading, my lord?
] 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?
] He keeps talking about my daughter. He didn’t recognize me at first; he called me a fishmonger. He’s really lost it. I went through a lot of suffering for love when I was young, almost like this. I’ll talk to him again. —What are you reading, my lord?
Words, words, words.
Words, words, words.
What is the matter, my lord?
What’s the matter, my lord?
Between who?
Who are you talking about?
I mean the matter that you read, my lord.
I mean the thing you just read, my lord.
Slanders, sir. For the satirical slave says here that old men have grey 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 which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down. For you yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab you could go backward.
Lies, sir. The sarcastic fool here says that old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, that their eyes leak thick, yellow goo like tree sap, and that they’re completely lacking in intelligence, with weak legs. All of which, sir, though I do believe it very strongly, I still think it’s not right to write it down like this. Because you, sir, should be as old as I am, if, like a crab, you could move backwards in age.
[
] Although this may seem crazy, there’s some sense to it. — Will you come out of the air, my lord?
] Though this be madness, yet there is a method in’t.— Will you walk out of the air, my lord?
] Although this may seem crazy, there’s some sense to it. — Will you come out of the air, my lord?
Into my grave?
Into my grave?
Indeed, that is out o’the air. [
] Sometimes his responses are so clever! It’s a kind of brilliance that even madness can stumble upon, a success that reason and sanity couldn’t have expressed as well. I’ll leave him now and quickly arrange a meeting between him and my daughter. My noble lord, I will take my leave of you, with the utmost respect.
] 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 honourable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you.
] Sometimes his responses are so clever! It’s a kind of brilliance that even madness can stumble upon, a success that reason and sanity couldn’t have expressed as well. I’ll leave him now and quickly arrange a meeting between him and my daughter. My noble lord, I will take my leave of you, with the utmost respect.
You cannot, sir, take from me anything that I will more willingly part withal, except my life, except my life, except my life.
You can’t, sir, take anything from me that I would part with more willingly, except my life, except my life, except my life.
Fare you well, my lord.
Goodbye, my lord.
These tedious old fools.
These annoying old fools.
You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is.
You’re looking for Lord Hamlet? There he is.
[
] God bless you, sir.
] God save you, sir.
] God bless you, sir.
My honoured lord!
My honoured lord!
My most dear lord!
My dearest lord!
My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz. Good lads, how do ye both?
My wonderful friends! How are you, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz. Good lads, how are you both doing?
As the indifferent children of the earth.
Like everyone else, just ordinary people.
Happy in that we are not over-happy; On Fortune’s cap we are not the very button.
We’re content because we’re not too happy; We’re not at the top of the world’s luck.
Nor the soles of her shoe?
Not even the bottom of her shoe?
Neither, my lord.
No, my lord.
Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favours?
So you live somewhere near her waist, or in the middle of her favors?
Faith, her privates we.
Honestly, we’re in her private parts.
In the secret parts of Fortune? O, most true; she is a strumpet. What’s the news?
In Fortune’s hidden places? Oh, that’s true; she’s a prostitute. What’s the news?
None, my lord, but that the world’s grown honest.
Nothing, my lord, except that the world’s become honest.
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?
Then the end of the world must be near. But your news isn’t true. Let me ask you more specifically. What have you two done to deserve that Fortune has sent you to this prison?
Prison, my lord?
A prison, my lord?
Denmark’s a prison.
Denmark is a prison.
Then is the world one.
Then the whole world is a prison.
A goodly one; in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons, Denmark being one o’th’worst.
A fine one; in it, there are many walls, rooms, and cells, and Denmark is one of the worst.
We think not so, my lord.
We don’t think so, my lord.
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.
Well, then it’s not a prison to you; because nothing is truly good or bad except what you think about it. To me, it’s a prison.
Why, then your ambition makes it one;’tis too narrow for your mind.
Then it’s your own ambition that makes it feel like one; it’s too small for your mind.
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.
Oh God, I could be trapped in a tiny box and still consider myself a king of endless space, if only I didn’t have bad dreams.
Which dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.
Those dreams are really ambition, because the core of ambition is just the shadow of a dream.
A dream itself is but a shadow.
A dream is just a shadow itself.
Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is but a shadow’s shadow.
Truly, and I think ambition is so light and insubstantial that it’s just the shadow of a shadow.
Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and outstretch’d heroes the beggars’shadows. Shall we to th’court? For, by my fay, I cannot reason.
So, are our beggars just bodies, and our kings and great heroes nothing but the shadows of beggars? Shall we go to the court? Because, honestly, I can’t make sense of this.
We’ll wait upon you.
We’ll follow you.
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?
No, not at all. I won’t have you join the rest of my servants; to be honest, I’m dreadfully attended to. But as a friend, what brings you to Elsinore?
To visit you, my lord, no other occasion.
We’ve come to visit you, my lord, for no other reason.
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.
I’m a beggar, so I can’t even thank you properly, but thank you. And really, my friends, my thanks are worth almost nothing. Weren’t you sent for? Or is this just your own choice? Is it a free visit? Come, be honest with me. Speak up.
What should we say, my lord?
What should we say, my lord?
Why, anything. But to the 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.
Anything. But get to the point. You were sent for, and your faces show it, even if you’re trying to hide it. I know the King and Queen sent for you.
To what end, my lord?
Why, my lord?
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.
That’s what you must tell me. But please, I beg you, by our friendship, by our shared youth, by the love we’ve always had, and by whatever else a better person could demand of you, be honest with me: were you sent for or not?
[
] What do you think?
] What say you?
] What do you think?
[
] Well then, I’m watching you closely. If you really care about me, don’t hold back.
] Nay, then I have an eye of you. If you love me, hold not off.
] Well then, I’m watching you closely. If you really care about me, don’t hold back.
My lord, we were sent for.
My lord, we were sent for.
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, lost all my mirth, forgone all custom of exercises; 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 firmament, 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 man! How noble in reason? How infinite in faculties, 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.
I’ll explain why; this way my expectations will stop you from figuring it out, and your secret to the King and Queen won’t be spoiled. Recently, but for reasons I don’t know, I’ve lost all my joy, stopped doing my usual activities; and honestly, it’s gotten so bad that this great world, the earth, feels to me like a barren cliff; this amazing sky, this grand ceiling, covered with golden light, it just seems to me like a disgusting and poisonous gathering of vapors. What a thing man is! How noble in his reasoning? How endless in his abilities, in his body and his movements, how clear and admirable? In action, how like an angel? In understanding, how like a god? The beauty of the world, the best of all creatures. And yet, to me, what is this perfect form of dust? Man doesn’t make me happy; no, not even women, though you smile like you’re saying otherwise.
My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts.
My lord, I wasn’t thinking about anything like that.
Why did you laugh then, when I said‘Man delights not me’?
Then why did you laugh when I said, "Man doesn’t make me happy"?
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.
Well, my lord, if you don’t enjoy the company of men, think of how little fun the actors will have with you. We met them on the way, and now they’re coming here to offer you their service.
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 tickle a’th’sere; and the lady shall say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt for’t. What players are they?
The one who plays the king will be welcome—his Majesty will get a tribute from me; the brave knight will get to use his sword and shield; the lover won’t sigh for free, the funny man will finish his part peacefully; the clown will make people laugh who are easily amused; and the lady will speak her mind freely, or the blank verse will stumble because of it. What actors are these?
Even those you were wont to take such delight in—the tragedians of the city.
The same ones you used to enjoy so much—the tragic actors from the city.
How chances it they travel? Their residence, both in reputation and profit, was better both ways.
How come they’re traveling? Their status, both in reputation and money, was better before.
I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation.
I think it’s because of the recent changes in the theater.
Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city? Are they so followed?
Do they still have the same reputation they had when I was in the city? Are they still as popular?
No, indeed, they are not.
No, definitely not.
How comes it? Do they grow rusty?
How come? Have they gotten worse?
Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace; but there is, sir, an ayry 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.
No, they’re still trying just as hard, but there’s now a bunch of young kids, little actors, who scream loudly and get praised for it. These are now the trend, and they completely mess up the public stage—the way they call it—so much so that many men who wear swords are afraid of a pen and barely dare to show up there.
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 most like, if their means are no better—their writers do them wrong to make them exclaim against their own succession?
What, are they children? Who’s supporting them? How are they being treated? Will they stop being actors once they outgrow the singing? Won’t they later say, if they become ordinary actors, that their writers are doing them a disservice by making them complain about their own future?
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.
Well, there’s been a lot of fuss on both sides; and people don’t mind causing trouble between them. For a while, no one would argue unless the poet and the actor started fighting over it.
Is’t possible?
Is that true?
O, there has been much throwing about of brains.
Oh yes, there’s been a lot of arguing going on.
Do the boys carry it away?
Do the boys take it away?
Ay, that they do, my lord. Hercules and his load too.
Yes, they do, my lord. Hercules and his burden too.
It is not very strange; for my uncle is King of Denmark, and those that would make mouths at him while my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats apiece for his picture in little.’Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.
It’s not that surprising; my uncle is King of Denmark, and those who would make fun of him when my father was alive, now pay twenty, forty, fifty, a hundred ducats each for his portrait in miniature. Damn, there’s something unnatural about this, if only philosophy could figure it out.
There are the players.
The actors are here.
Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, come. The appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony. Let me comply with you in this garb, lest my extent to the players, which I tell you must show fairly outward, should more appear like entertainment than yours. You are welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived.
Gentlemen, welcome to Elsinore. Come, shake hands. The proper way to welcome someone is with formality and ceremony. Let me do that with you now, so that my greeting to the players, which I assure you should look formal, doesn’t come off more like a performance than your own. You are welcome. But my uncle-father and aunt-mother are fooled.
In what, my dear lord?
In what way, my dear lord?
I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.
I’m just mad in a north-northwest direction. When the wind is coming from the south, I can tell a hawk from a handsaw.
.
.
Well be with you, gentlemen.
Well, good day to you, gentlemen.
Hark you, Guildenstern, and you too, at each ear a hearer. That great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling clouts.
Listen, Guildenstern, and you too, each of you should listen. That big baby you see there hasn’t even outgrown his baby clothes yet.
Happily he’s the second time come to them; for they say an old man is twice a child.
Maybe he’s just come back to them for the second time; they say an old man is like a child again.
I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players. Mark it.—You say right, sir: for a Monday morning’twas so indeed.
I predict he’s here to talk to me about the actors. Watch. — You’re right, sir: it was exactly like this on a Monday morning.
My lord, I have news to tell you.
My lord, I have some news for you.
My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome—
My lord, I have news for you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome—
The actors are come hither, my lord.
The actors have arrived, my lord.
Buzz, buzz.
Buzz, buzz.
Upon my honour.
On my honor.
Then came each actor on his ass—
Then each actor came on his donkey—
The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-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.
The best actors in the world, whether for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, indivisible scenes, or endless poetry. Seneca can be as serious as needed, and Plautus can be as light as you want, for that’s the law of writing and freedom. These are the best men for the job.
O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!
Oh, Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure you had!
What treasure had he, my lord?
What treasure did he have, my lord?
Why— ’One fair daughter, and no more, The which he loved passing well.’
Well— ’One fair daughter, and no more, The one he loved very much.’
[
] Still talking about my daughter.
] Still on my daughter.
] Still talking about my daughter.
Am I not i’th’right, old Jephthah?
Am I wrong, old Jephthah?
If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love passing well.
If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love very much.
Nay, that follows not.
No, that’s not the point.
What follows then, my lord?
What is the point then, my lord?
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 abridgement comes.
Well, As it happened, God knows, and then, you know, It turned out, just as you’d expect. The first part of the pious song will explain it better. For look, here comes my summary.
.
.
You are welcome, masters, welcome all. I am glad to see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my old friend! Thy face is valanc’d 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 to 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 falconers, fly at anything we see. We’ll have a speech straight. Come, give us a taste of your quality. Come, a passionate speech.
You’re all welcome, masters, welcome! I’m happy to see you. Welcome, good friends. Oh, my old friend! Your face looks different since I saw you last. Are you here to challenge me in Denmark? What, my young lady and mistress! By God, you’re closer to heaven now than when I last saw you, by the height of a platform shoe. I hope your voice, like a piece of bad gold, hasn’t cracked within the ring. Masters, welcome. We’ll dive right in like French falconers, hunting whatever we see. Let’s have a speech right away. Come, give us a sample of your skills. Come, perform a passionate speech.
What speech, my lord?
What speech, my lord?
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 judgments 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 were no sallets in the lines to make the matter savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might indite 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:
So, keep going.
It is not so: it begins with Pyrrhus—
So, keep going.
So, proceed you.
So, keep going.
’Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good discretion.
By God, my lord, well spoken, with good delivery and good judgment.
This is too long.
This is too much.
It shall to the barber’s, with your beard.—Prythee say on. He’s for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps. Say on; come to Hecuba.
It will go to the barber’s, along with your beard.—Please, continue. He’s either for a dance or a bawdy story, or he’s asleep. Go on; come to Hecuba.
‘The mobled queen’?
"The mobled queen"?
That’s good!‘Mobled queen’is good.
That’s good! "Mobled queen" is good.
Look, where he has not turn’d his colour, and has tears in’s eyes. Pray you, no more.
Look, he hasn’t changed color and he has tears in his eyes. Please, no more.
’Tis well. I’ll have thee speak out the rest of this soon.—Good my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for they are the abstracts and brief chronicles of the time. After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.
Alright. I’ll have you finish this part soon.—Good my lord, will you make sure the actors are well taken care of? Do you hear, make sure they are treated well; they are the living record and short history of the times. After your death, it would be better to have a bad epitaph than to have their bad opinions of you while you’re still alive.
My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
My lord, I will treat them according to their worth.
God’s bodikin, man, better. Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in.
By God’s body, man, better. Treat every man according to his worth, and who would escape punishment? Treat them according to your own honor and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit there is in your generosity. Take them in.
Come, sirs.
Come, sirs.
Follow him, friends. We’ll hear a play tomorrow.
Follow him, friends. We’ll watch a play tomorrow.
Dost thou hear me, old friend? Can you play
?
?
?
Ay, my lord.
Yes, my lord.
We’ll ha’t tomorrow night. You could for a need study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would set down and insert in’t, could you not?
We’ll do it tomorrow night. You could, if necessary, memorize a short speech, maybe twelve or sixteen lines, which I’ll write and insert into it, right?
Ay, my lord.
Yes, my lord.
Very well. Follow that lord, and look you mock him not.
Very well. Follow that lord, and make sure you don’t mock him.
[
] My good friends, I’ll leave you until tonight. You’re welcome at Elsinore.
] My good friends, I’ll leave you till night. You are welcome to Elsinore.
] My good friends, I’ll leave you until tonight. You’re welcome at Elsinore.
Good my lord.
Good, my lord.
Ay, so, God b’wi’ye. Now I am alone. O what a rogue and peasant slave am I! Is it not monstrous that this player here, But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, Could force his soul so to his own conceit That from her working all his visage wan’d; Tears in his eyes, distraction in’s aspect, A broken voice, and his whole function suiting With forms to his conceit? And all for nothing! For Hecuba? What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? What would he do, Had he the motive and the cue for passion That I have? He would drown the stage with tears And cleave the general ear with horrid speech; Make mad the guilty, and appal the free, Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed, The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, And can say nothing. No, not for a king Upon whose property and most dear life A damn’d defeat was made. Am I a coward? Who calls me villain, breaks my pate across? Plucks off my beard and blows it in my face? Tweaks me by the nose, gives me the lie i’th’throat As deep as to the lungs? Who does me this? Ha!’Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be But I am pigeon-liver’d, and lack gall To make oppression bitter, or ere this I should have fatted all the region kites With this slave’s offal. Bloody, bawdy villain! Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! Oh vengeance! Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, That I, the son of a dear father murder’d, Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words And fall a-cursing like a very drab, A scullion! Fie upon’t! Foh! About, my brain! I have heard That guilty creatures sitting at a play, Have by the very cunning of the scene, Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim’d their malefactions. For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ. I’ll have these players Play something like the murder of my father Before mine uncle. I’ll observe his looks; I’ll tent him to the quick. If he but blench, I know my course. The spirit that I have seen May be the devil, and the devil hath power T’assume a pleasing shape, yea, and perhaps Out of my weakness and my melancholy, As he is very potent with such spirits, Abuses me to damn me. I’ll have grounds More relative than this. The play’s the thing Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the King.
Yes, well, God be with you. Now I’m alone. Oh, what a scoundrel and miserable fool I am! Isn’t it crazy that this actor here, In just a play, in a dream of passion, Can make himself feel so deeply That it shows on his face, Tears in his eyes, his expression full of anguish, A broken voice, and his whole performance matching His inner emotions? And all for nothing! For Hecuba? What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should cry for her? What would he do, If he had the reason and the opportunity for emotion That I have? He would flood the stage with tears And shout horrific things that would shake the audience; He’d drive the guilty mad, and scare the innocent, Confuse the ignorant, and amaze everyone, The very senses of sight and hearing. Yet I, A dull, sluggish coward, sulk Like a dreamer, clueless about my cause, And can’t say a thing. No, not even for a king Whose life and property were wronged so badly. Am I a coward? Who calls me a villain, strikes me over the head? Rips out my beard and throws it in my face? Twists my nose, insults me so deeply As to reach my lungs? Who does this to me? Ha! By God, I should take action: for it must be That I’m weak-hearted, and lack the guts To make injustice hurt, or else I Should have fed all the scavenger birds With this traitor’s flesh. Bloody, filthy villain! Heartless, treacherous, lustful, merciless villain! Oh vengeance! Why, what an idiot I am! This is the height of foolishness, That I, the son of a beloved father murdered, Driven to revenge by heaven and hell, Must, like a prostitute, unload my heart with words And start cursing like a common whore, A servant! Shame on me! Ugh! Come on, my mind! I’ve heard That guilty people sitting in the audience, Have been so affected by a scene, That they’ve confessed their crimes right away. For murder, though it can’t speak, will reveal itself Through the most remarkable means. I’ll have these actors Perform something like the murder of my father In front of my uncle. I’ll watch his reaction; I’ll test him to the core. If he flinches, I’ll know what to do. The spirit I’ve seen Might be the devil, and the devil has power To take on a pleasing appearance, even to use My own weakness and sadness, As he’s very skilled with such things, To trick me and damn me. I’ll have more proof Than just this. The play’s the thing Where I’ll catch the conscience of the King.