Hamlet, Prince of Denmark(哈姆雷特)

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THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

HAMLET, PRINCE OF

DENMARK

William Shakespeare

1604

THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

Dramatis Personae

Claudius, King of Denmark. Marcellus, Officer. Hamlet, son to the

former, and nephew to the present king. Polonius, Lord Chamberlain.

Horatio, friend to Hamlet. Laertes, son to Polonius. Voltemand, courtier.

Cornelius, courtier. Rosencrantz, courtier. Guildenstern, courtier. Osric,

courtier. A Gentleman, courtier. A Priest. Marcellus, officer. Bernardo,

officer. Francisco, a soldier Reynaldo, servant to Polonius. Players. Two

Clowns, gravediggers. Fortinbras, Prince of Norway. A Norwegian

Captain. English Ambassadors.

Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, mother to Hamlet. Ophelia, daughter to

Polonius.

Ghost of Hamlet's Father.

Lords, Ladies, Officers, Soldiers, Sailors, Messengers,Attendants.

THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

ACT I.

THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the Castle.

Enter two Sentinels-[first,] Francisco, [who paces up and down at his

post; then] Bernardo, [who approaches him].

Ber. Who's there? Fran. Nay, answer me. Stand and unfold yourself.

Ber. Long live the King! Fran. Bernardo? Ber. He. Fran. You come most

carefully upon your hour. Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to bed,

Francisco. Fran. For this relief much thanks. 'Tis bitter cold, And I am sick

at heart. Ber. Have you had quiet guard? Fran. Not a mouse stirring. Ber.

Well, good night. If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, The rivals of my

watch, bid them make haste.

Enter Horatio and Marcellus.

Fran. I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who is there? Hor. Friends to this

ground. Mar. And liegemen to the Dane. Fran. Give you good night. Mar.

O, farewell, honest soldier. Who hath reliev'd you? Fran. Bernardo hath

my place. Give you good night. Exit. Mar. Holla, Bernardo! Ber. Say-

What, is Horatio there ? Hor. A piece of him. Ber. Welcome, Horatio.

Welcome, good Marcellus. Mar. What, has this thing appear'd again to-

night? Ber. I have seen nothing. Mar. Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, And

will not let belief take hold of him Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen

of us. Therefore I have entreated him along, With us to watch the minutes

of this night, That, if again this apparition come, He may approve our eyes

and speak to it. Hor. Tush, tush, 'twill not appear. Ber. Sit down awhile,

And let us once again assail your ears, That are so fortified against our

story, What we two nights have seen. Hor. Well, sit we down, And let us

hear Bernardo speak of this. Ber. Last night of all, When yond same star

that's westward from the pole Had made his course t' illume that part of

heaven Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, The bell then beating

one-

Enter Ghost.

Mar. Peace! break thee off! Look where it comes again! Ber. In the

same figure, like the King that's dead. Mar. Thou art a scholar; speak to it,

Horatio. Ber. Looks it not like the King? Mark it, Horatio. Hor. Most like.

It harrows me with fear and wonder. Ber. It would be spoke to. Mar.

THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

Question it, Horatio. Hor. What art thou that usurp'st this time of night

Together with that fair and warlike form In which the majesty of buried

Denmark Did sometimes march? By heaven I charge thee speak! Mar. It is

offended. Ber. See, it stalks away! Hor. Stay! Speak, speak! I charge thee

speak!Exit Ghost. Mar. 'Tis gone and will not answer. Ber. How now,

Horatio? You tremble and look pale. Is not this something more than

fantasy? What think you on't? Hor. Before my God, I might not this

believe Without the sensible and true avouch Of mine own eyes. Mar. Is it

not like the King? Hor. As thou art to thyself. Such was the very armour he

had on When he th' ambitious Norway combated. So frown'd he once

when, in an angry parle, He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. 'Tis

strange. Mar. Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, With martial

stalk hath he gone by our watch. Hor. In what particular thought to work I

know not; But, in the gross and scope of my opinion, This bodes some

strange eruption to our state. Mar. Good now, sit down, and tell me he that

knows, Why this same strict and most observant watch So nightly toils the

subject of the land, And why such daily cast of brazen cannon And foreign

mart for implements of war; Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore

task Does not divide the Sunday from the week. What might be toward,

that this sweaty haste Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day?

Who is't that can inform me? Hor. That can I. At least, the whisper goes so.

Our last king, Whose image even but now appear'd to us, Was, as you

know, by Fortinbras of Norway, Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate

pride, Dar'd to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet (For so this side of

our known world esteem'd him) Did slay this Fortinbras; who, by a seal'd

compact, Well ratified by law and heraldry, Did forfeit, with his life, all

those his lands Which he stood seiz'd of, to the conqueror; Against the

which a moiety competent Was gaged by our king; which had return'd To

the inheritance of Fortinbras, Had he been vanquisher, as, by the same

cov'nant And carriage of the article design'd, His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir,

young Fortinbras, Of unimproved mettle hot and full, Hath in the skirts of

Norway, here and there, Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes, For food and

diet, to some enterprise That hath a stomach in't; which is no other, As it

doth well appear unto our state, But to recover of us, by strong hand And

THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands So by his father lost; and this, I

take it, Is the main motive of our preparations, The source of this our

watch, and the chief head Of this post-haste and romage in the land. Ber. I

think it be no other but e'en so. Well may it sort that this portentous figure

Comes armed through our watch, so like the King That was and is the

question of these wars. Hor. A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. In the

most high and palmy state of Rome, A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,

The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead Did squeak and gibber

in the Roman streets; As stars with trains of fire, and dews of blood,

Disasters in the sun; and the moist star Upon whose influence Neptune's

empire stands Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse. And even the

like precurse of fierce events, As harbingers preceding still the fates And

prologue to the omen coming on, Have heaven and earth together

demonstrated Unto our climature and countrymen.

Enter Ghost again.

But soft! behold! Lo, where it comes again! I'll cross it, though it blast

me.- Stay illusion!Spreads his arms. If thou hast any sound, or use of voice,

Speak to me. If there be any good thing to be done, That may to thee do

ease, and, race to me, Speak to me. If thou art privy to thy country's fate,

Which happily foreknowing may avoid, O, speak! Or if thou hast

uphoarded in thy life Extorted treasure in the womb of earth (For which,

they say, you spirits oft walk in death),The cock crows. Speak of it! Stay,

and speak!- Stop it, Marcellus! Mar. Shall I strike at it with my partisan?

Hor. Do, if it will not stand. Ber. 'Tis here! Hor. 'Tis here! Mar. 'Tis

gone!Exit Ghost. We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show

of violence; For it is as the air, invulnerable, And our vain blows malicious

mockery. Ber. It was about to speak, when the cock crew. Hor. And then it

started, like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard The cock,

that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding

throat Awake the god of day; and at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in

earth or air, Th' extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine; and of the

truth herein This present object made probation. Mar. It faded on the

crowing of the cock. Some say that ever, 'gainst that season comes

Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all

THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

night long; And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad, The nights are

wholesome, then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to

charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. Hor. So have I heard and

do in part believe it. But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er

the dew of yon high eastward hill. Break we our watch up; and by my

advice Let us impart what we have seen to-night Unto young Hamlet; for,

upon my life, This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. Do you consent

we shall acquaint him with it, As needful in our loves, fitting our duty?

Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know Where we shall find him most

conveniently. Exeunt.

THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

SCENE II. Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle.

Flourish. [Enter Claudius, King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen,

Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes and his sister Ophelia, [Voltemand, Cornelius,]

Lords Attendant.

King. Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death 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,

Th' imperial jointress to this warlike state, Have we, as 'twere with a

defeated joy, With an auspicious, and a dropping eye, With mirth in

funeral, and with dirge in marriage, In equal scale weighing delight and

dole, 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 this 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 bands 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 bedrid, 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, Voltemand, 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 dilated articles allow.[Gives a paper.]

Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. Cor., Volt. In that, and all

things, will we show our duty. King. We doubt it nothing. Heartily

farewell.Exeunt Voltemand and Cornelius. 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 lose your voice. What wouldst thou beg,

Laertes, That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? The head is not more

THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

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? Laer.

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.

King. Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? Pol. He hath, my

lord, wrung from me my slow leave By laboursome petition, and at last

Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent. I do beseech you give him leave to

go. King. 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- Ham. [aside]

A little more than kin, and less than kind! King. How is it that the clouds

still hang on you? Ham. Not so, my lord. I am too much i' th' sun. Queen.

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a

friend on Denmark. Do not for ever with thy vailed lids Seek for thy noble

father in the dust. Thou know'st 'tis common. All that lives must die,

Passing through nature to eternity. Ham. Ay, madam, it is common. Queen.

If it be, Why seems it so particular with thee? Ham. 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 forc'd 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. King. '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,

THE TRAGEDY OF HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK

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. Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet. I

pray thee stay with us, go not to Wittenberg. Ham. I shall in all my best

obey you, madam. King. Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply. Be as ourself

in Denmark. Madam, come. This gentle and unforc'd 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 heaven shall bruit again, Respeaking earthly thunder. Come

away. Flourish. Exeunt all but Hamlet. Ham. 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 followed 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

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THETRAGEDYOFHAMLET,PRINCEOFDENMARK1HAMLET,PRINCEOFDENMARKWilliamShakespeare1604THETRAGEDYOFHAMLET,PRINCEOFDENMARK2DramatisPersonaeClaudius,KingofDenmark.Marcellus,Officer.Hamlet,sontotheformer,andnephewtothepresentking.Polonius,LordChamberlain.Horatio,friendtoHamlet.Laertes,sontoPolonius.Voltemand,c...

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