Hamlet Part 10

Ros.

Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too.

Ham.

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 a-piece for his picture in little. 'Sblood, there is something in this more than natural, if philosophy could find it out.

[Flourish of trumpets within.]

Guil.

There are the players.

Ham.

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.

Guil.

In what, my dear lord?

Ham.

I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.

[Enter Polonius.]

Pol.

Well be with you, gentlemen!

Ham.

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.

Ros.

Happily he's the second time come to them; for they say an old man is twice a child.

Ham.

I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; mark it.--You say right, sir: o' Monday morning; 'twas so indeed.

Pol.

My lord, I have news to tell you.

Ham.

My lord, I have news to tell you. When Roscius was an actor in Rome,-- Pol.

The actors are come hither, my lord.

Ham.

Buzz, buzz!

Pol.

Upon my honour,-- Ham.

Then came each actor on his a.s.s,-- Pol.

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.

Ham.

O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou!

Pol.

What treasure had he, my lord?

Ham.

Why-- 'One fair daughter, and no more, The which he loved pa.s.sing well.'

Pol.

[Aside.] Still on my daughter.

Ham.

Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah?

Pol.

If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter that I love pa.s.sing well.

Ham.

Nay, that follows not.

Pol.

What follows, then, my lord?

Ham.

Why-- 'As by lot, G.o.d wot,'

and then, you know, 'It came to pa.s.s, as most like it was--'

The first row of the pious chanson will show you more; for look where my abridgment comes.

[Enter four or five Players.]

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; comest 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 alt.i.tude of a chopine. Pray G.o.d, 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 pa.s.sionate speech.

I Play.

What speech, my lord?

Ham.

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:-- The rugged Pyrrhus, like th' Hyrcanian beast,-- it is not so:-- it begins with Pyrrhus:-- 'The rugged Pyrrhus,--he whose sable arms, Black as his purpose,did the night resemble When he lay couched in the ominous horse,-- Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd With heraldry more dismal; head to foot Now is be total gules; horridly trick'd With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, Bak'd and impasted with the parching streets, That lend a tyrannous and a d.a.m.ned light To their vile murders: roasted in wrath and fire, And thus o'ersized with coagulate gore, With eyes like carbuncles, the h.e.l.lish Pyrrhus Old grandsire Priam seeks.'

So, proceed you.

Pol.

'Fore G.o.d, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good discretion.

I Play.

Anon he finds him, Striking too short at Greeks: his antique sword, Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, Repugnant to command: unequal match'd, Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide; But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium, Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top Stoops to his base; and with a hideous crash Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for lo! his sword, Which was declining on the milky head Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick: So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood; And, like a neutral to his will and matter, Did nothing.

But as we often see, against some storm, A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, The bold winds speechless, and the orb below As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder Doth rend the region; so, after Pyrrhus' pause, A roused vengeance sets him new a-work; And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall On Mars's armour, forg'd for proof eterne, With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword Now falls on Priam.-- Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you G.o.ds, In general synod, take away her power; Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, As low as to the fiends!

Pol.

This is too long.

Ham.

It shall to the barber's, with your beard.--Pr'ythee say on.-- He's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps:--say on; come to Hecuba.

I Play.

But who, O who, had seen the mobled queen,-- Ham.

'The mobled queen'?

Pol.

That's good! 'Mobled queen' is good.

I Play.

Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe, About her lank and all o'erteemed loins, A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;-- Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd, 'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have p.r.o.nounc'd: But if the G.o.ds themselves did see her then, When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, The instant burst of clamour that she made,-- Unless things mortal move them not at all,-- Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, And pa.s.sion in the G.o.ds.

Pol.

Look, whether he has not turn'd his colour, and has tears in's eyes.--Pray you, no more!

Ham.

'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.

Pol.

My lord, I will use them according to their desert.

Ham.

Odd'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.

Pol.

Come, sirs.

Ham.

Follow him, friends. we'll hear a play to-morrow.

[Exeunt Polonius with all the Players but the First.]

Dost thou hear me, old friend? Can you play 'The Murder of Gonzago'?

I Play.

Ay, my lord.

Ham.

We'll ha't to-morrow 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?

I Play.

Ay, my lord.

Ham.

Very well.--Follow that lord; and look you mock him not.

[Exit First Player.]

--My good friends [to Ros. and Guild.], I'll leave you till night: you are welcome to Elsinore.