Scene IV

[The Queen's closet.]

Enter [Queen]Gertrude and Polonius.]

POLONIUS:

He will come straight. Look you lay home to him.
Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with,
And that your Grace hath screen'd and stood between
Much heat and him. I'll silence me even here.
Pray you, be round with him.(5)

POLONIUS:

He will come right away. See that you are direct with him.
Tell him his pranks have been too excessive to put up
With, and that your grace has taken a lot of heat because
Of him. I’ll hide here silently.
I beg you, be firm with him.

QUEEN:

I'll warrant you;
Fear me not. Withdraw; I hear him coming.

QUEEN:

I’ll guarantee you that.
Don’t worry. Hide, I hear him coming.

[Polonius hides behind the arras.]

Enter Hamlet.

HAMLET:

Now, mother, what's the matter?

HAMLET:

Now, mother, what's the matter?

QUEEN:

Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended.

QUEEN:

Hamlet, you have offended your father very much.

HAMLET:

Mother, you have my father much offended.(10)

HAMLET:

Mother, you have offended my father very much.

QUEEN:

Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue.

QUEEN:

Come, come, you answer me stupidly.

HAMLET:

Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue.

HAMLET:

Go, go, you answer me with wickedness.

QUEEN:

Why, how now, Hamlet?

QUEEN:

Why, how can you, Hamlet!

HAMLET:

What's the matter now?

HAMLET:

What's the matter now?

QUEEN:

Have you forgot me?(15)

QUEEN:

Have you forgotten I’m your mother?

HAMLET:

No, by the rood, not so!
You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife,
And—would it were not so—you are my mother.

HAMLET:

No, by the church, I haven’t.
You are the Queen, your husband's brother's wife,
And, I wish it wasn’t so, but you are my mother.

QUEEN:

Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak.

QUEEN:

No, then, I’ll send those to you who can speak.

HAMLET:

Come, come, and sit you down. You shall not budge.(20)
You go not till I set you up a glass
Where you may see the inmost part of you.

HAMLET:

Come, come, and sit you down, you shall not budge,
You will not go until I set you up a mirror
Where you may see the innermost part of you.

QUEEN:

What wilt thou do? Thou wilt not murder me?
Help, help, ho!

QUEEN:

What will you do? You wilt not murder me?
Help, help, ho!

POLONIUS:

What, ho! Help, help, help!(25)

POLONIUS:

What, ho! help, help, help!

HAMLET:

How now, a rat? [Draws.] Dead for a ducat, dead!

HAMLET:

How now? A rat? [Draws.]
Dead for a dollar, dead!

POLONIUS:

O, I am slain!

POLONIUS:

O, I am slain!

[Falls and dies.]

QUEEN:

O me, what hast thou done?

QUEEN:

O me, what have you done?

HAMLET:

Nay, I know not. Is it the King?

HAMLET:

No, I don’t know. Is it the king?

QUEEN:

O, what a rash and bloody deed is this!(30)

QUEEN:

O, what a thoughtless and bloody deed this is!

HAMLET:

A bloody deed. Almost as bad, good mother,
As kill a king, and marry with his brother.

HAMLET:

A bloody deed! Almost as bad, good mother,
As killing a king and marrying his brother.

QUEEN:

As kill a king?

QUEEN:

As killing a king!

HAMLET:

Ay, lady, it was my word.
Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!(35)
I took thee for thy better. Take thy fortune.
Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger.
Leave wringing of your hands. Peace! sit you down,
And let me wring your heart; for so I shall,
If it be made of penetrable stuff;(40)
If damned custom have not braz'd it so
That it be proof and bulwark against sense.

HAMLET:

Yes, lady, that’s what I said.
You wretched, rash, intruding fool, goodbye!
I mistook you for the King. Take your luck,
You learn that it’s dangerous to be too busy.
Leave wringing of your hands. Quiet! Sit down,
And let me wring your heart. Because so I will,
If it’s made of stuff that can be penetrated,
If damned habits have not hardened it so
That it’s hard and strong against common sense.

QUEEN:

What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue
In noise so rude against me?

QUEEN:

What have I done, that you dare scream at me
So loudly and rudely?

HAMLET:

Such an act(45)
That blurs the grace and blush of modesty;
Calls virtue hypocrite; takes off the rose
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
And sets a blister there; makes marriage vows
As false as dicers' oaths—O, such a deed(50)
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul, and sweet religion makes
A rhapsody of words! Heaven's face doth glow;
Yea, this solidity and compound mass,
With tristful visage, as against the doom,(55)
Is thought-sick at the act.

HAMLET:

Such an act
That hides the grace and blush of modesty,
Calls virtue a hypocrite, takes off the rose
From the fair forehead of an innocent love,
And sets a blister there, makes marriage vows
As false as a gambler's oaths. O, such a deed
As plucks the very soul from the body of a betrothal,
And sweet religion makes
A rhapsody of words. Heaven's face glows—
Yes, this solid and compound body
With a trustful face— as against the end of the world,
Is sickened by the thought of the act.

QUEEN:

Ay me, what act,
That roars so loud and thunders in the index?

QUEEN:

Ah me, what act
Roars so loudly and thunders in the wind?

HAMLET:

Look here upon this picture, and on this,
The counterfeit presentment of two brothers.(60)
See what a grace was seated on this brow;
Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself;
An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;
A station like the herald Mercury
New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill:(65)
A combination and a form indeed
Where every god did seem to set his seal
To give the world assurance of a man.
This was your husband. Look you now what follows.
Here is your husband, like a mildew'd ear(70)
Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
And batten on this Moor? Ha! have you eyes?
You cannot call it love; for at your age
The heyday in the blood is tame, it's humble,(75)
And waits upon the judgment; and what judgment
Would step from this to this? Sense sure you have,
Else could you not have motion; but sure that sense
Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err,
Nor sense to ecstacy was ne'er so thrall'd(80)
But it reserv'd some quantity of choice
To serve in such a difference. What devil was't
That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all,(85)
Or but a sickly part of one true sense
Could not so mope.
O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,
If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax(90)
And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame
When the compulsive ardour gives the charge,
Since frost itself as actively doth burn,
And reason panders will.

HAMLET:

Look here upon this picture and on this one,
The representation of two brothers.
See what a grace was seated on this brow,
The curls of a god, the face of Jove himself,
An eye like the god of war, to threaten and command,
A station like the messenger of the gods
Just arrived on a heaven-kissing hill.
A combination and a man, indeed,
Where every god did seem to give their approval,
To give the world assurance that this was a man,
This was your husband. Look now at this one.
Here is your husband, like a mildewed ear of corn
Poisoning his wholesome brother. Have you got eyes?
Could you feed on this fair mountain,
And glut yourself on this swamp? Huh? have you got
Eyes? You can’t call it love, for at your age,
The hot sex drive in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waits on the judgment. And what judgment
Would step from this to this? Sure, you have sense,
Or else you couldn’t move. but sure that sense
Is paralyzed, because madness would not make a
mistake, sense was never so captivated by passion
That it didn’t reserve some number of choices
To be used to figure out such a difference. What devil
Was it that trick you like this with a blindfold?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling without them all,
Or a sickly part of one true sense
Couldn’t act like this without a conscious thought.
O shame! Aren’t you embarrassed? Rebellious hell,
If you can rebel in an old lady’s bones,
Then let virtue be like wax to burning youth,
And melt in her own fire. Proclaim no shame
When the compulsive passion takes charge,
Since frost itself burns as well,
And reason pimps the will.

QUEEN:

O Hamlet, speak no more!(95)
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul,
And there I see such black and grained spots
As will not leave their tinct.

QUEEN:

O Hamlet, don’t say anything else.
You turn my eyes into my very soul,
And there I see such black and grainy spots
As will not leave their color.

HAMLET:

Nay, but to live
In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed,(100)
Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love
Over the nasty sty!

HAMLET:

No, but to live
In the rotten sweat of an greasy bed,
Stewed in corruption, using sweet words and making love
Over the nasty pig sty. . .

QUEEN:

O, speak to me no more!
These words like daggers enter in mine ears.
No more, sweet Hamlet!(105)

QUEEN:

O, speak to me no more,
These words enter in my ears like daggers,
No more, sweet Hamlet.

HAMLET:

A murderer and a villain!
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings;
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole(110)
And put it in his pocket!

HAMLET:

A murderer and a villain,
A slave that is not twentieth part of the tenth
Of your precedent lord, a vice of kings,
A thief of the empire and the throne,
That stole the precious crown from a shelf
And put it in his pocket!

QUEEN:

No more!

QUEEN:

No more.

Enter the Ghost]

HAMLET:

A king of shreds and patches!
Save me and hover o'er me with your wings,
You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure?(115)

HAMLET:

A king of shreds and patches!
Save me and hover over me with your wings,
You heavenly guards! What does you gracious figure want?

QUEEN:

Alas, he's mad!

QUEEN:

Alas, he's crazy!

HAMLET:

Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by
The important acting of your dread command?
O, say!(120)

HAMLET:

Don’t you come to scold your tardy son,
That, forgetting time and passion, lets
The important acting of your dread command go by?
O, tell me!

GHOST:

Do not forget. This visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But look, amazement on thy mother sits.
O, step between her and her fighting soul!
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works.(125)
Speak to her, Hamlet.

GHOST:

Don’t forget. This visitation
Is only to sharpen your almost dull purpose.
But, look, amazement sits on your mother’s face.
O, step between her and her fighting soul,
Judgment works strongest in weakest bodies.
Speak to her, Hamlet.

HAMLET:

How is it with you, lady?

HAMLET:

How are you, lady?

QUEEN:

Alas, how is't with you,
That you do bend your eye on vacancy,
And with the incorporal air do hold discourse?(130)
Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep;
And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm,
Your bedded hairs, like life in excrements,
Start up and stand on end. O gentle son,
Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper(135)
Sprinkle cool patience! Whereon do you look?

QUEEN:

Alas, how are you,
That you look on empty space,
And carry on a conversation with the invisible air?
Your spirits wildly peep from your eyes,
And, as the sleeping soldiers at the alarm,
Your bedded hairs, like life in growths,
Start up and stand an end. O gentle son,
Sprinkle cool patience on the heat and flame of your
Anger! Where do you look?

HAMLET:

On him, on him! Look you how pale he glares!
His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones,
Would make them capable.—Do not look upon me,
Lest with this piteous action you convert(140)
My stern effects. Then what I have to do
Will want true colour—tears perchance for blood.

HAMLET:

On him, on him! Look how pale he glares!
His form and cause united, preaching to stones,
Would make them able to work. Don’t look on me,
Lest you convert my stern results with this piteous action.
Then what I have to do
Will need true colours, tears perhaps for blood.

QUEEN:

To whom do you speak this?

QUEEN:

To whom do you speak this?

HAMLET:

Do you see nothing there?

HAMLET:

Do you see nothing there?

QUEEN:

Nothing at all; yet all that is I see.(145)

QUEEN:

Nothing at all, yet all that I see is.

HAMLET:

Nor did you nothing hear?

HAMLET:

You hear nothing?

QUEEN:

No, nothing but ourselves.

QUEEN:

No, nothing but ourselves.

HAMLET:

Why, look you there! Look how it steals away!
My father, in his habit as he liv'd!
Look where he goes even now out at the portal!(150)

HAMLET:

Why, look there! Look how it steals away!
My father in his clothes as he lived!
Look, where he goes, even now out the door!

Exit Ghost.

QUEEN:

This is the very coinage of your brain.
This bodiless creation ecstasy
Is very cunning in.

QUEEN:

This is the very product of your brain.
This bodiless creation Is very cunning
In imagination.

HAMLET:

Ecstasy?
My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time(155)
And makes as healthful music. It is not madness
That I have utt'red. Bring me to the test,
And I the matter will reword; which madness
Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul(160)
That not your trespass but my madness speaks.
It will but skin and film the ulcerous place,
Whiles rank corruption, mining all within,
Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven;
Repent what's past; avoid what is to come;(165)
And do not spread the compost on the weeds
To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue;
For in the fatness of these pursy times
Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg
Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good.(170)

HAMLET:

Imagination!
My pulse does temperately keep time like yours,
And is just as healthful as yours. It’s not craziness
That I have spoken. Test me,
And I will re-word the problem, which madness
Would run away from. Mother, for love of grace,
Don’t put that flattering oil on your soul
That says my craziness speaks and not your sin.
It will only create a scab and film over the ulcer,
While rotten corruption, working within everything,
Infects it unseen. Confess yourself to heaven,
Repent what's past, avoid what is to come,
And don’t spread fertilizer on the weeds,
To make them more rotten. Forgive me my truth,
Because, in the fatness of these wealthy times
Virtue itself must beg pardon of vice,
Yes, beg and court for permission to do him good.