How now Ophelia, what's the matter?

Ophe. Alas my Lord, I have been so affrighted.
Polon. With what, in the name of Heaven?
Ophe. My Lord, as I was sewing in my Chamber,
Lord Hamlet with his doublet all unbrac'd,

No hat upon his head, his stockings foul'd,
Ungarter'd and down gyved to his Ankle,
Pale as his shirt, his knees knocking each other,
And with a look so piteous in purport,

As if he had been loosed out of hell,

To speak of horrors: he comes before me.

Polon. Mad for thy Love?

Ophe. My Lord, I do not know: but truly I do fear it. Polon. What said he?

Ophe. He took me by the wrist, and held me hard;

Then goes he to the length of all his arm;

And with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
He fals to such perusal of my face,

As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so,
At last, a little shaking of mine Arm:

And thrice his head thus waving up and down;
He rais'd a sigh, so piteous and profound,
That it did seem to shatter all his bulk,
And end his being. That done, he lets me go,
And with his head over his shoulders turn'd,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes,
For out a' doors he went without their help;
And to the last, bended their light on me.
Polon. Go with me, I will go seek the King,
This is the very ecstasy of Love,

Whose violent property fordoes it self,
And leads the will to desperate Undertakings,
As oft as any passion under Heaven,

That does afflict our Natures. I am sorry,

What have you given him any hard words of late?

Ophe. No my good Lord: but as you did command, I did repel his Letters, and denied

His access to me.

Pol. That hath made him mad.

I am sorry that with better speed and judgment

I had not quoted him. I fear he did but trifle,

And meant to wreck thee: but beshrew my jealousy :
It seems it is as proper to our Age,

To cast beyond our selves in our Opinions,

As it is common for the younger sort

To lack discretion. Come, go we to the King,

This must be known, which being kept close might move
More grief to hide, than hate to utter love.

Scena Secunda.

Exeunt.

Enter King, Queen, Rosincrane, and Guildensterne Cumaliis.
King. Welcome dear Rosincrance and Guildensterne.
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 Hamlets transformation: so I call it,
Since not th' exterior, nor the inward man
Resembles that it was. What it should be

More than his Fathers death, that thus hath put him
So much from th' understanding of himself,

I cannot deem 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 Occasions you may glean,
That open'd lies within our remedy.

Qu. 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 shew us so much Gentry, and good will,

As to expend your time with us a-while,
For the supply and profit of our Hope,
Your Visitation shall receive such thanks
As fits a Kings remembrance.

Rosin. Both your Majesties

Might by the Sovereign power you have of us,
Put your dread pleasures, more into Command
Than to Entreaty.

Guil. We both obey,

And here give up our selves, in the full bent,
To lay our Services freely at your feet,

To be commanded.

King. Thanks Rosincrance, and gentle Guildensterne. Qu. Thanks Guildensterne and gentle Rosincrance. And I beseech you instantly to visit

My too much changed Son.

Go some of ye,

And bring the Gentlemen where Hamlet is.

Guil. Heavens make our presence and our practices Pleasant and helpful to him.

Queen. Amen.

Enter Polonius.

Pol. Th' Ambassadors from Norway, my good Lord,
Are joyfully return'd.

King. Thou still hast been the Father of good News.
Pol. Have I, my Lord? Assure you, my good Liege,

I hold my duty, as I hold my Soul,

Both to my God, one to my gracious King:
And I do think, or else this brain of mine
Hunts not the trail of Policy, so sure
As I have us'd to do: that I have found

The very cause of Hamlets Lunacy.

King. Oh speak of that, that I do long to hear.
Pol. Give first admittance to th' Ambassadors,

My News shall be the News to that great Feast.
King. Thy self do grace to them, and bring them in..

Exit.

He tells me my sweet Queen, that he hath found
The head and source of all your Sons distemper.

Qu. I doubt it is no other, but the main,
His Fathers death, and our o'er-hasty Marriage,

Enter Polonius, Voltumand, and Cornelius.

King. Well, we shall sift him. Welcome good Frends:
Say Voltumand, what from our Brother Norway?
Volt. Most fair return of Greetings, and Desires.

Upon our first, he sent out to suppress

His Nephews 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 grieved,
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 shewn,
That it might please you to give quiet pass
Through your Dominions, for his Enterprise,
On such regards of safety and allowance,
As therein are set down.

King. It likes us well:

And at our more consider'd time we'll read,

Answer, and think upon this Business.

Mean time we thank you, for your well-took Labour.

Go to your rest, at night we'll Feast together.

Most welcome home.

Pol. This business is very well ended.

My Liege, and Madam, to expostulate

Exit Ambass.

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.

Qu. More matter, with less Art.

Pol. Madam, I swear I use no Art at all: That he is mad, 'tis true: 'Tis true 'tis pity, And pity it is 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.

The Letter.

To the Celestial, and my Souls Idol, the most beautified Ophelia. That's an ill Phrase, a vile Phrase, beautified is a vile Phrase : but you shall hear these in her excellent white bosom, these. Qu. Came this from Hamlet to her.

Pol. Good Madam stay awhile, I will be faithful.

Doubt thou, the Stars are fire,

Doubt, that the Sun doth move :

Doubt Truth to be a Liar,

But never Doubt, I love.

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these Numbers: I have not Art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, oh most Best believe it. Adieu. Thine evermore most dear Lady, whilst this

Machine is to him, Hamlet.