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The Director's Cuts:
Act 1, Scene 2

SCENE II. A room of state in the castle.

Enter CLAUDIUS, GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, and Attendants

CLAUDIUSClick to play video

Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's deathw

The memory be green,
 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 think on him,

Together with remembrance of ourselves.

Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,

The imperial jointress to this warlike state,

Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy --
With an auspicious and a dropping eye,

In equal scale weighing delight and dole,--

With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage,

Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd

Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone

With this affair along. For all, our thanks.
Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras,
Holding a weak supposal of our worth,
Or thinking by our late dear brother's death
Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,
Colleagued with the dream of his advantage,
He hath not fail'd to pester us with message,
Importing the surrender of those lands
Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,
To our most valiant brother. So much for him.
Now for ourself and for this time of meeting:
Thus much the business is: we have here writ
To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,--
Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears
Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress
His further gait herein; in that the levies,
The lists and full proportions, are all made
Out of his subject: and we here dispatch
You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand,
For bearers of this greeting to old Norway;
Giving to you no further personal power
To business with the king, more than the scope
Of these delated articles allow.
Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty.
CORNELIUS VOLTIMAND
In that and all things will we show our duty.
KING CLAUDIUS
We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell.
And now, Laertes, what's the news with you?

You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes?

You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,

And loose your voice. What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,

That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?

The head is not more native to the heart,

The hand more instrumental to the mouth,

Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.

What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

LAERTES Click to see the video

My dread lord,

Your leave and favour 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.


CLAUDIUS Click to see the video

Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius?

POLONIUSPolonius

 

He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave

By laboursome petition, and at last

By laboursome petition, and at last
Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent:

I do beseech you, give him leave to go.


CLAUDIUSClaudius

Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,

And thy best graces spend it at thy will!

But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,--

HAMLETHamlet

[Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind.


CLAUDIUSClaudius

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

HAMLETHamlet

Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun.

GERTRUDEGertrude

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,

And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

Do not for ever with thy vail├Ęd lids

Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die,

Passing through nature to eternity.


HAMLETHamlet

Ay, madam, it is common.


GERTRUDEGertrude

If it be,

Why seems it so particular with thee?

HAMLETHamlet

Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not seems.

'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,

Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage,

Together with all forms, moods, shapes 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;

These but the trappings and the suits of woe.


CLAUDIUSClaudius

'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.
and the survivor bound
In filial obligation for some term
To do obsequious sorrow:

But to persever

In obstinate condolement is a course

Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief.
It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,
A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,
An understanding simple and unschool'd:
For what we know must be and is as common
As any the most vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we in our peevish opposition
Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd: whose common theme
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,
From the first corse till he that died to-day,
'This must be so.'

We pray you, throw to earth

This unprevailing woe, and think of us

As of a father. For let the world take note,

You are the most immediate to our throne.
And with no less nobility of love
Than that which dearest father bears his son,
Do I impart toward you.

For your intent In going back to school in Wittenberg,

It is most retrograde to our desire,

And we beseech you, bend you to remain

Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye,

Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.


GERTRUDEGertrude

Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet:

I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg.


HAMLETHamlet

I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

CLAUDIUSClaudius

Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply:

Be as ourself in Denmark.

Madam, come;

This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet

Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof,

No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,

But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,

And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again,

Respeaking earthly thunder. Come away.

Exeunt all but HAMLET


HAMLETHamlet

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt

Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd

His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!

How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,

Seem to me all the uses of this world!

Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,

That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature

Possess it merely. 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; so loving to my mother

That he might not beteem 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:--why she, even she--

O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,

Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,

My father's brother, but no more like my father

Than I to Hercules. Within a month:

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,

She married. O, most wicked speed, to post

With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

It is not nor it cannot come to good:

But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.


Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS


HORATIOHoratio

Hail to your lordship!


HAMLETHamlet

I am glad to see you well:

Horatio,--or I do forget myself!

HORATIOHoratio

The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.

HAMLETHamlet

Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you:

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?


Marcellus?


MARCELLUSMarcellus

My good lord--


HAMLETHamlet

I am very glad to see you.

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?


HORATIOHoratio

A truant disposition, good my lord.


HAMLETHamlet

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.

HORATIOHoratio

My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

HAMLETHamlet

I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student;

I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

HORATIOHoratio

Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

HAMLETHamlet

Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio!

My father!--methinks I see my father.


HORATIOHoratio

Where, my lord?


HAMLETHamlet

In my mind's eye, Horatio.

HORATIOHoratio

I saw him once; he was a goodly king.


HAMLETHamlet

He was a man, take him for all in all,

I shall not look upon his like again.


HORATIOHoratio

My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.


HAMLETHamlet

Saw? who?

HORATIOHoratio

My lord, the king your father.

HAMLETHamlet

The king my father!


HORATIOHoratio

Season your admiration for awhile

With an attent ear, till I may deliver,

Upon the witness of this gentleman,

This marvel to you.


HAMLETHamlet

For God's love, let me hear.

HORATIOHoratio

Two nights together has this gentleman,

In the dead vast and middle of the night,

Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father,

Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe,

Appears before him, and with solemn march

Goes slow and stately by him:
thrice he walk'd
By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,
Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled
Almost to jelly with the act of fear,
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: I knew your father;
These hands are not more like.

                                  thrice he walk'd

By his oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes,

Within his truncheon's length; whilst he, distilled

Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

Stands dumb and speaks not to him. This to me

In dreadful secrecy impart he did;

And I with him the third night kept the watch;

Where, as he had deliver'd, both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made true and good,

The apparition comes: I knew your father;

These hands are not more like.

HAMLETHamlet

But where was this?

MARCELLUSMarcellus

My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd.


HAMLETHamlet

Did you not speak to it?

HORATIOHoratio

My lord, I did;

But answer made it none: yet once methought

It lifted up its head and did address

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.

HAMLETHamlet

'Tis very strange.

HORATIOHoratio

As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;

And we did think it writ down in our duty

To let you know of it.

HAMLETHamlet

Indeed, indeed, sir, but this troubles me.

Hold you the watch to-night?


MARCELLUSMarcellus

I do, my lord.

HAMLETHamlet

Arm'd, say you?

MARCELLUSMarcellus

Arm'd, my lord.


HAMLETHamlet

From top to toe?

MARCELLUSMarcellus

My lord, from head to foot.

HAMLETHamlet

Then saw you not his face?

HORATIOHoratio

O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up.
HAMLET
What, look'd he frowningly?
HORATIO
A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.
HAMLET
Pale or red?
HORATIO
Nay, very pale.
HAMLET
And fix'd his eyes upon you?
HORATIO
Most constantly.


HAMLETHamlet

I would I had been there.


HORATIOHoratio

It would have much amazed you.

HAMLETHamlet

Very like, very like. Stay'd it long?

HORATIOHoratio

While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

MARCELLUSMarcellus

Longer, longer.


HORATIOHoratio

Not when I saw't.


HAMLETHamlet

His beard was grizzled--no?


HORATIOHoratio

It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver'd.


HAMLETHamlet

I will watch to-night;

Perchance 'twill walk again.


HORATIOHoratio

I warrant it will.

HAMLETHamlet

If it assume my noble father's person,
I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape
And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all,
If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight,
Let it be tenable 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.

MARCELLUSMercellus

My duty to your honour.

HAMLETHamlet

Your love, as mine to you: farewell.

Exeunt all but HAMLET

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

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