Part 1
# Hamlet ### By Shakespeare, William
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Transcriber's Note: This is a heavily edited version of _Hamlet_. It was used for Charles Kean's 1859 stage production. Phrases printed in italics in the book are indicated in this electronic version by _ (underscore). Footnotes originally appeared at the bottom of each page. For this electronic version the footnotes are collected at the end of each act. In
## Act I, Scene 5, the word Uumix'd has been changed to
Unmix'd. A closing bracket ] was added to Act IV footnote 37 after _Naked on your kingdom_,. A closing bracket ] was added to Act IV footnote 50 after _Venom'd stuck_,. The word o'er-crows appears in Act V, Scene 3; in footnote V.81, o'ercrows appears without a hyphen. Both are as they appear in the book.
SHAKESPEARE'S TRAGEDY
OF
HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK.
ARRANGED FOR REPRESENTATION AT THE Royal Princess's Theatre
WITH EXPLANATORY NOTES,
BY CHARLES KEAN, F.S.A.
AS PERFORMED ON MONDAY, JANUARY 10, 1859.
LONDON:
BRADBURY AND EVANS, 11, BOUVERIE STREET. 1859.
LONDON: BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
Dramatis Personæ
CLAUDIUS (_King of Denmark_) Mr. RYDER.
HAMLET (_son to the former and_ _nephew to the present King_). Mr. CHARLES KEAN.
POLONIUS (_Lord Chamberlain_) Mr. MEADOWS.
HORATIO (_friend To Hamlet_) Mr. GRAHAM.
LAERTES (_son To Polonius_) Mr. J. F. CATHCART.
ROSENCRANTZ } { Mr. BRAZIER. GUILDENSTERN } (_Courtiers_) { Mr. G. EVERETT. OSRICK } { Mr. DAVID FISHER.
PRIEST Mr. TERRY.
MARCELLUS Mr. PAULO.
BERNARDO Mr. DALY.
FRANCISCO Mr. COLLETT.
GHOST OF HAMLET'S FATHER Mr. WALTER LACY.
FIRST GRAVEDIGGER Mr. FRANK MATTHEWS.
SECOND GRAVEDIGGER Mr. H. SAKER.
FIRST PLAYER Mr. F. COOKE.
SECOND PLAYER Mr. ROLLESTON.
GERTRUDE (_Queen of Denmark, and_ _mother of Hamlet_) Mrs. CHARLES KEAN.
OPHELIA (_daughter of Polonius_) Miss HEATH.
ACTRESS Miss DALY.
STAGE DIRECTIONS.
R. H. means Right Hand; L. H. Left Hand; U. E. Upper Entrance; R. H. C. Enters through the Centre from the Right Hand; L. H. C. Enters through the Centre from the Left Hand.
RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORMERS WHEN ON THE STAGE.
R. means on the Right side of the Stage; L. on the Left side of the Stage; C. Centre of the Stage; R. C. Right Centre of the Stage; L. C. Left Centre of the Stage.
The reader is supposed _to be on the Stage_, facing the audience.
PREFACE.
The play of _Hamlet_ is above all others the most stupendous monument of Shakespeare's genius, standing as a beacon to command the wonder and admiration of the world, and as a memorial to future generations, that the mind of its author was moved by little less than inspiration. _Lear_, with its sublime picture of human misery;--_Othello_, with its harrowing overthrow of a nature great and amiable;--_Macbeth_, with its fearful murder of a monarch, whose "virtues plead like angels trumpet-tongued against the deep damnation of his taking off,"--severally exhibit, in the most pre-eminent degree, all those mighty elements which constitute the perfection of tragic art--the grand, the pitiful, and the terrible. _Hamlet_ is a history of mind--a tragedy of thought. It contains the deepest philosophy, and most profound wisdom; yet speaks the language of the heart, touching the secret spring of every sense and feeling. Here we have no ideal exaltation of character, but life with its blended faults and virtues,--a gentle nature unstrung by passing events, and thus rendered "out of tune and harsh."
The original story of Hamlet is to be found in the Latin pages of the Danish historian, Saxo Grammaticus, who died in the year 1208. Towards the end of the sixteenth century, the French author, Francis de Belleforest, introduced the fable into a collection of novels, which were translated into English, and printed in a small quarto black letter volume, under the title of the "Historie of Hamblett," from which source Shakespeare constructed the present tragedy.
Saxo has placed his history about 200 years before Christianity, when barbarians, clothed in skins, peopled the shores of the Baltic. The poet, however, has so far modernised the subject as to make Hamlet a Christian, and England tributary to the "sovereign majesty of Denmark." A date can therefore be easily fixed, and the costume of the tenth and eleventh centuries may be selected for the purpose. There are but few authentic records in existence, but these few afford reason to believe that very slight difference existed between the dress of the Dane and that of the Anglo-Saxon of the same period.
Since its first representation, upwards of two centuries and a half ago, no play has been acted so frequently, or commanded such universal admiration. It draws within the sphere of its attraction both the scholastic and the unlearned. It finds a response in every breast, however high or however humble. By its colossal aid it exalts the drama of England above that of every nation, past or present. It is, indeed, the most marvellous creation of human intellect.
CHARLES KEAN.
HAMLET,
PRINCE OF DENMARK.
## ACT I.
## SCENE I.--ELSINORE. A PLATFORM BEFORE THE CASTLE. NIGHT.
FRANCISCO _on his post. Enter to him_ BERNARDO (L.H.)
_Ber._ Who's there?
_Fran._ (R.) Nay, answer me:[1] stand, and unfold[2] yourself.
_Ber._ Long live the king![3]
_Fran._ Bernardo?
_Ber._ He.
_Fran._ You come most carefully upon your hour.
_Ber._ 'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco.
_Fran._ For this relief much thanks:
[_Crosses to_ L.]
'tis bitter cold, And I am sick at heart.
_Ber._ Have you had quiet guard?
_Fran._ Not a mouse stirring.
_Ber._ Well, good night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The rivals of my watch,[4] bid them make haste.
_Fran._ I think I hear them.--Stand, ho! Who's there?
_Hor._ Friends to this ground.
_Mar._ And liegemen to the Dane.[5]
_Enter_ HORATIO _and_ MARCELLUS (L.H.)
_Fran._ Give you good night.
_Mar._ O, farewell, honest soldier: Who hath reliev'd you?
_Fran._ Bernardo hath my place. Give you good night.
[_Exit_ FRANCISCO, L.H.]
_Mar._ Holloa! Bernardo!
_Ber._ Say, What, is Horatio there?
_Hor._ (_Crosses to_ C.) A piece of him.[6]
_Ber._ (R.) Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus.
_Hor._ What, has this thing appear'd again to-night?
_Ber._ I have seen nothing.
_Mar._ (L.) Horatio says, 'tis but our fantasy, And will not let belief take hold of him, Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: Therefore I have entreated him, along With us, to watch the minutes of this night;[7] That, if again this apparition come, He may approve our eyes,[8] and speak to it.
_Hor._ Tush! tush! 'twill not appear.
_Ber._ Come, let us once again assail your ears, That are so fortified against our story, What we two nights have seen.[9]
_Hor._ Well, let us hear Bernardo speak of this.
_Ber._ Last night of all, When yon same star that's westward from the pole Had made his course to illume that part of heaven Where now it burns, Marcellus, and myself, The bell then beating one--
_Mar._ Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!
_Enter_ Ghost (L.H.)
_Ber._ In the same figure, like the king that's dead.
_Hor._ Most like:--it harrows me with fear and wonder.[10]
_Ber._ It would be spoke to.
_Mar._ Speak to it, Horatio.
_Hor._ What art thou, that usurp'st this time of night,[11] Together with that fair and warlike form In which the majesty of buried Denmark Did sometimes march? By heaven I charge thee, speak!
_Mar._ It is offended.
[Ghost _crosses to_ R.]
_Ber._ See! it stalks away!
_Hor._ Stay!--speak!--speak, I charge thee, speak!
[_Exit_ Ghost, R.H.]
_Mar._ 'Tis gone, and will not answer.
_Ber._ How now, Horatio! You tremble, and look pale: Is not this something more than fantasy? What think you of it?
_Hor._ Before heaven, I might not this believe, Without the sensible and true avouch[12] Of mine own eyes.
_Mar._ Is it not like the king?
_Hor._ As thou art to thyself: Such was the very armour he had on, When he the ambitious Norway combated.
_Mar._ Thus, twice before, and jump at this dead hour,[13] With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch.
_Hor._ In what particular thought to work,[14] I know not; But in the gross and scope[15] of mine opinion, This bodes some strange eruption to our state.[16] In the most high and palmy[17] state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets.
_Re-enter_ Ghost (R.H.)
But, (L.C.) soft, behold! lo, where it comes again! I'll cross it, though it blast me.
[HORATIO _crosses in front of the_ Ghost _to_ R. Ghost _crosses to_ L.]
Stay, illusion! If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,[18] Speak to me: If there be any good thing to be done, That may to thee do ease, and grace to me, Speak to me: If thou art privy to thy country's fate, Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak! O, if thou hast uphoarded in thy life Extorted treasure in the womb of earth,[19] For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, Speak of it:--stay, and speak!
[_Exit_ Ghost, L.H.]
_Mar._ 'Tis gone! We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show of violence.
_Ber._ It was about to speak, when the cock crew.
_Hor._ And then it started like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons.[20] I have heard, The cock, that is the trumpet of the morn, Doth with his lofty[21] and shrill-sounding throat Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, The extravagant and erring spirit[22] hies To his confine. But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill: Break we our watch up; and, by my advice, Let us impart what we have seen to-night Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.
[_Exeunt_, L.H.]
## SCENE II.--A ROOM OF STATE IN THE PALACE.
_Trumpet March._
_Enter the_ KING _and_ QUEEN, _preceded by_ POLONIUS, HAMLET, LAERTES,[23] Lords, Ladies, _and_ Attendants.
_King._ (R.C.) Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death The memory be green;[24] and that it us befitted To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe; Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature, That we with wisest sorrow[25] think on him, Together with remembrance of ourselves. Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, The imperial jointress of this warlike state, Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,[26] Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd[27] Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone With this affair along:--For all, our thanks. And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? You told us of some suit; What is't, Laertes?
_Laer._ (R.) My dread lord, Your leave and favour[28] to return to France; From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, To show my duty in your coronation, Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France, And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.
_King._ Have you your father's leave? What says Polonious?
_Pol._ (R.) He hath, my lord, (wrung from me my slow leave By laboursome petition; and, at last, Upon his will I sealed my hard consent):[29] I do beseech you, give him leave to go.
_King._ Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, And thy best graces spend it at thy will![30] But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,----
_Ham._ (L.) A little more than kin, and less than kind.[31]
[Aside.]
_King._ How is it that the clouds still hang on you?
_Ham._ Not so, my lord; I am too much i'the sun.[32]
_Queen._(L.C.) Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour[33] off, And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. Do not for ever with thy vailed lids[34] Seek for thy noble father in the dust: Thou know'st 'tis common, all that live must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
_Ham._ Ay, madam, it is common.
_Queen._ If it be, Why seems it so particular with thee?
_Ham._ Seems, madam! nay, it is; I know not seems. 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, Nor the dejected haviour of the visage, No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, Together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, That can denote me truly: These, indeed, seem, For they are actions that a man might play. But I have that within which passeth show;[35] These but the trappings[36] and the suits of woe.
_King._ 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, To give these mourning duties to your father: But, you must know, your father lost a father; That father lost, lost his;[37] and the survivor bound, In filial obligation, for some term To do obsequious sorrow:[38] But to perséver[39] In obstinate condolement,[40] is a course Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief: It shows a will most incorrect to Heaven.[41] We pray you, throw to earth This unprevailing[42] woe; and think of us As of a father: for let the world take note, You are the most immediate to our throne; Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.
_Queen._ Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet: I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.
_Ham._ I shall in all my best obey you, madam.
_King._ Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply; Be as ourself in Denmark.--Madam, come; This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet Sits smiling to my heart:[43] in grace whereof,[44] No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,[45] But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell; Re-speaking earthly thunder.
[_Trumpet March repeated. Exeunt_ KING _and_ QUEEN, _preceded by_ POLONIUS, Lords, Ladies, LAERTES, _and_ Attendants, R.H.]
_Ham._ O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself[46] into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon[47] 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world![48] Fye on't! O fye! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely.[49] That it should come to this! But two months dead!--nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr:[50] so loving to my mother, That he might not beteem[51] the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on: And yet, within a month,-- Let me not think on't,--Frailty, thy name is Woman!-- A little month; or ere those shoes were old With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears;--she married with my uncle, My father's brother; but no more like my father Than I to Hercules. It is not, nor it cannot come to, good: But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue!
_Enter_ HORATIO, BERNARDO, _and_ MARCELLUS (R.H.)
_Hor._ Hail to your lordship!
_Ham._ I am glad to see you well: Horatio,--or I do forget myself.
_Hor._ The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
_Ham._ Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:[52] And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?-- Marcellus?
[_Crosses to_ C.]
_Mar._ (R.) My good lord,
_Ham._ (C.) I am very glad to see you; good even, sir.
[_To_ BERNARDO, R.]
But what, in faith,[53] make you[54] from Wittenberg?[55]
_Hor._ (L.) A truant disposition, good my lord.
_Ham._ I would not hear your enemy say so; Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, To make it truster of your own report Against yourself: I know you are no truant. But what is your affair in Elsinore? We'll teach you to drink deep, ere you depart.
_Hor._ My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.
_Ham._ I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; I think it was to see my mother's wedding.
_Hor._ Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon.
_Ham._ Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral bak'd meats Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my dearest foe[56] in Heaven Ere ever I had seen that day, Horatio! My father,--Methinks, I see my father.
_Hor._ Where, My lord?
_Ham._ In my mind's eye, Horatio.
_Hor._ I saw him once; he was a goodly king.[57]
_Ham._ He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again.
[_Crosses to_ L.]
_Hor._ (C.) My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
_Ham._ Saw who?
_Hor._ My lord, the king your father.
_Ham._ The king my father!
_Hor._ Season your admiration for a while[58] With an attent ear; till I may deliver, Upon the witness of these gentlemen, This marvel to you.
_Ham._ For Heaven's love, let me hear.
_Hor._ Two nights together had these gentlemen, Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, In the dead waste and middle of the night,[59] Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, Arm'd at all points exactly, cap-à-pé, Appears before them, and, with solemn march Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd By their oppress'd and fear-surprisèd eyes, Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distill'd Almost to jelly with the act of fear,[60] Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me In dreadful secrecy impart they did; And I with them the third night kept the watch: Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time, Form of the thing, each word made true and good, The apparition comes.
_Ham._ But where was this?
[_Crosses to_ MARCELLUS.]
_Mar._ (R.) My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.
_Ham._ (C.) Did you not speak to it?
_Hor._ (L.) My lord, I did; But answer made it none: yet once methought It lifted up its head, and did address[61] Itself to motion, like as it would speak: But, even then, the morning cock crew loud, And at the sound it shrunk in haste away; And vanish'd from our sight.
_Ham._ 'Tis very strange.
_Hor._ As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; And we did think it writ down[62] in our duty To let you know of it.
_Ham._ Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. Hold you the watch to-night?
_Mar._ We do, my lord.
_Ham._ Arm'd, say you?
_Mar._ Arm'd, my lord.
_Ham._ From top to toe?
_Mar._ My lord, from head to foot.
_Ham._ Then saw you not His face?
_Hor._ O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.[63]
_Ham._ What, looked he frowningly?
_Hor._ A countenance more In sorrow than in anger.
_Ham._ Pale or red?
_Hor._ Nay, very pale.
_Ham._ And fix'd his eyes upon you?
_Hor._ Most constantly.
_Ham._ I would I had been there.
_Hor._ It would have much amaz'd you.
_Ham._ Very like, Very like. Stay'd it long?
_Hor._ While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.
_Mar._} } Longer, Longer. _Ber._}
_Hor._ Not when I saw it.
_Ham._ His beard was grizzl'd, No?
_Hor._ It was, as I have seen it in his life, A sable silver'd.
_Ham._ I will watch to-night; Perchance, 'twill walk again.
_Hor._ (C.) I warrant it will.
_Ham._ If it assume my noble father's person, I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape, And bid me hold my peace.
[_Crosses to_ L.] I pray you all, If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight, Let it be tenable[64] in your silence still; And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, Give it an understanding, but no tongue; I will requite your loves. So, fare you well: Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, I'll visit you.
_Hor._ (R.) Our duty to your honour.
_Ham._ Your loves, as mine to you: Farewell.
[_Exeunt_ HORATIO, MARCELLUS, _and_ BERNARDO, R.H.]
My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; I doubt some foul play: 'would the night were come; Till then sit still, my soul: Foul deeds will rise, Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. [_Exit_, L.H.]
## SCENE III.--A ROOM IN POLONIUS'S HOUSE.
_Enter_ LAERTES _and_ OPHELIA (R.H.)
_Laer._ (L.C.) My necessaries are embarked: farewell: And, sister, as the winds give benefit,[65] Let me hear from you.
_Oph._ (R.C.) Do you doubt that?
_Laer._ For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour,[66] Hold it a fashion, and a toy in blood; A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, The pérfume and suppliance of a minute.[67]
_Oph._ No more but so?
_Laer._ He may not, as unvalued persons do, Carve for himself; for on his choice depends The safety and the health of the whole state. Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, If with too credent ear you list his songs. Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister; And keep within the rear of your affection,[68] Out of the shot and danger of desire. The chariest maid[69] is prodigal enough, If she unmask her beauty to the moon: Virtue itself scapes not calumnious strokes: Be wary, then; best safety lies in fear: Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
_Oph._ I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven Whilst, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,[70] Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not his own read.[71]
_Laer._ O, fear me not. I stay too long;--but here my father comes.
_Enter_ POLONIUS (L.H.)
_Pol._ Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail,[72] And you are staid for. There,--my blessing with you!
[_Laying his hand on_ LAERTES' _head_.]
And these few precepts in thy memory-- Look thou charácter.[73] Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportion'd thought[74] his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in, Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice: Take each man's censure,[75] but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy: For the apparel oft proclaims the man; And they in France of the best rank and station Are most select and generous, chief in that.[76] Neither a borrower nor a lender be: For loan oft loses both itself and friend; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.[77] This above all,--To thine ownself be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell; my blessing season this in thee![78]
_Laer._ Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
[_Crosses to_ L.]
Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well What I have said to you.
_Oph._ (_Crosses to_ LAERTES.) 'Tis in my memory lock'd, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.[79]
_Laer._ Farewell.
[_Exit_ LAERTES, L.H.]
_Pol._ What is it, Ophelia, he hath said to you?
_Oph._ So please you, something touching the lord Hamlet.
_Pol._ Marry, well bethought: 'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late Given private time to you;[80] and you yourself Have of your audience been most free and bounteous: If it be so (as so 'tis put on me,[81] And that in way of caution), I must tell you, You do not understand yourself so clearly As it behoves my daughter, and your honour. What is between[82] you? give me up the truth.
_Oph._ He hath, my lord, of late, made many tenders Of his affection to me.