Act III, Scene 1
Elsinore. A room in Elsinore castle.
- Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz,
- Guildenstern, Lords.
Claudius1 - 4
- And can you by no drift of conference
- Get from him why he puts on this confusion,
- Grating so harshly all his days of quiet
- With turbulent and dangerous lunacy?
Rosencrantz5 - 6
- He does confess he feels himself distracted,
- But from what cause ’a will by no means speak.
Guildenstern7 - 10
- Nor do we find him forward to be sounded,
- But with a crafty madness keeps aloof
- When we would bring him on to some confession
- Of his true state.
- Did he receive you well?
- Most like a gentleman.
- But with much forcing of his disposition.
Rosencrantz14 - 15
- Niggard of question, but of our demands
- Most free in his reply.
Gertrude16 - 17
- Did you assay him
- To any pastime?
Rosencrantz18 - 23
- Madam, it so fell out that certain players
- We o’erraught on the way; of these we told him,
- And there did seem in him a kind of joy
- To hear of it. They are here about the court,
- And as I think, they have already order
- This night to play before him.
Polonius24 - 26
- ’Tis most true,
- And he beseech’d me to entreat your Majesties
- To hear and see the matter.
Claudius27 - 30
- With all my heart, and it doth much content me
- To hear him so inclin’d.
- Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,
- And drive his purpose into these delights.
- We shall, my lord.
- Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
Claudius32 - 40
- Sweet Gertrude, leave us two,
- For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,
- That he, as ’twere by accident, may here
- Affront Ophelia. Her father and myself,
- We’ll so bestow ourselves that, seeing unseen,
- We may of their encounter frankly judge,
- And gather by him, as he is behav’d,
- If’t be th’ affliction of his love or no
- That thus he suffers for.
Gertrude41 - 46
- I shall obey you.
- And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish
- That your good beauties be the happy cause
- Of Hamlet’s wildness. So shall I hope your virtues
- Will bring him to his wonted way again,
- To both your honors.
- Madam, I wish it may.
- Exit Queen.
Polonius48 - 55
- Ophelia, walk you here.—Gracious, so please you,
- We will bestow ourselves.
- To Ophelia.
- Read on this book,
- That show of such an exercise may color
- Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this—
- ’Tis too much prov’d—that with devotion’s visage
- And pious action we do sugar o’er
- The devil himself.
Claudius56 - 61
- O, ’tis too true!
- How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience!
- The harlot’s cheek, beautied with plast’ring art,
- Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it
- Than is my deed to my most painted word.
- O heavy burden!
- I hear him coming. Withdraw, my lord.
- Exeunt King and Polonius.
- Enter Hamlet.
Hamlet63 - 97
- To be, or not to be, that is the question:
- Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
- The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
- Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
- And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep—
- No more, and by a sleep to say we end
- The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
- That flesh is heir to; ’tis a consummation
- Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep—
- To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there’s the rub,
- For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
- When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
- Must give us pause; there’s the respect
- That makes calamity of so long life:
- For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
- Th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
- The pangs of despis’d love, the law’s delay,
- The insolence of office, and the spurns
- That patient merit of th’ unworthy takes,
- When he himself might his quietus make
- With a bare bodkin; who would fardels bear,
- To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
- But that the dread of something after death,
- The undiscover’d country, from whose bourn
- No traveler returns, puzzles the will,
- And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
- Than fly to others that we know not of?
- Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
- And thus the native hue of resolution
- Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
- And enterprises of great pitch and moment
- With this regard their currents turn awry,
- And lose the name of action.—Soft you now,
- The fair Ophelia. Nymph, in thy orisons
- Be all my sins rememb’red.
Ophelia98 - 99
- Good my lord,
- How does your honor for this many a day?
- I humbly thank you, well, well, well.
Ophelia101 - 103
- My lord, I have remembrances of yours
- That I have longed long to redeliver.
- I pray you now receive them.
Hamlet104 - 105
- No, not I,
- I never gave you aught.
Ophelia106 - 111
- My honor’d lord, you know right well you did,
- And with them words of so sweet breath compos’d
- As made these things more rich. Their perfume lost,
- Take these again, for to the noble mind
- Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.
- There, my lord.
- Ha, ha! Are you honest?
- My lord?
- Are you fair?
- What means your lordship?
Hamlet116 - 117
- That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no
- discourse to your beauty.
Ophelia118 - 119
- Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with
Hamlet120 - 124
- Ay, truly, for the power of beauty will sooner transform
- honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty
- can translate beauty into his likeness. This was sometime a
- paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you
- Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so.
Hamlet126 - 128
- You should not have believ’d me, for virtue cannot so
- inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of it. I lov’d
- you not.
- I was the more deceiv’d.
Hamlet130 - 138
- Get thee to a nunn’ry, why wouldst thou be a breeder of
- sinners? I am myself indifferent honest, but yet I could
- accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had
- not borne me: I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with
- more offenses at my beck than I have thoughts to put them
- in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.
- What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and
- heaven? We are arrant knaves, believe none of us. Go thy
- ways to a nunn’ry. Where’s your father?
- At home, my lord.
Hamlet140 - 141
- Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no
- where but in ’s own house. Farewell.
- O, help him, you sweet heavens!
Hamlet143 - 148
- If thou dost marry, I’ll give thee this plague for thy
- dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt
- not escape calumny. Get thee to a nunn’ry, farewell. Or if
- thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool, for wise men know well
- enough what monsters you make of them. To a nunn’ry, go, and
- quickly too. Farewell.
- Heavenly powers, restore him!
Hamlet150 - 156
- I have heard of your paintings, well enough. God hath given
- you one face, and you make yourselves another. You jig and
- amble, and you lisp, you nickname God’s creatures and make
- your wantonness your ignorance. Go to, I’ll no more on’t, it
- hath made me mad. I say we will have no more marriage. Those
- that are married already (all but one) shall live, the rest
- shall keep as they are. To a nunn’ry, go.
Ophelia157 - 168
- O, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown!
- The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye, tongue, sword,
- Th’ expectation and rose of the fair state,
- The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
- Th’ observ’d of all observers, quite, quite down!
- And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
- That suck’d the honey of his music vows,
- Now see that noble and most sovereign reason
- Like sweet bells jangled out of time, and harsh;
- That unmatch’d form and stature of blown youth
- Blasted with ecstasy. O, woe is me
- T’ have seen what I have seen, see what I see!
- Ophelia withdraws.
- Enter King and Polonius.
Claudius169 - 182
- Love? His affections do not that way tend,
- Nor what he spake, though it lack’d form a little,
- Was not like madness. There’s something in his soul
- O’er which his melancholy sits on brood,
- And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose
- Will be some danger; which for to prevent,
- I have in quick determination
- Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England
- For the demand of our neglected tribute.
- Haply the seas, and countries different,
- With variable objects, shall expel
- This something-settled matter in his heart,
- Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus
- From fashion of himself. What think you on’t?
Polonius183 - 195
- It shall do well; but yet do I believe
- The origin and commencement of his grief
- Sprung from neglected love.
- Ophelia comes forward.
- How now, Ophelia?
- You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said,
- We heard it all. My lord, do as you please,
- But if you hold it fit, after the play
- Let his queen-mother all alone entreat him
- To show his grief. Let her be round with him,
- And I’ll be plac’d (so please you) in the ear
- Of all their conference. If she find him not,
- To England send him, or confine him where
- Your wisdom best shall think.
Claudius196 - 197
- It shall be so.
- Madness in great ones must not unwatch’d go.