Literature/William Shakespeare/Hamlet

Hamlet

William Shakespeare, c. 1600

Act IVScene I

A room in the Castle

Enter King, Queen, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

King

There’s matter in these sighs. These profound heavesYou must translate; ’tis fit we understand them.Where is your son?

Queen

Bestow this place on us a little while.

To Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who go out.

Ah, my good lord, what have I seen tonight!

King

What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?

Queen

Mad as the sea and wind, when both contendWhich is the mightier. In his lawless fitBehind the arras hearing something stir,Whips out his rapier, cries ‘A rat, a rat!’And in this brainish apprehension killsThe unseen good old man.

King

O heavy deed!It had been so with us, had we been there.His liberty is full of threats to all;To you yourself, to us, to everyone.Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer’d?It will be laid to us, whose providenceShould have kept short, restrain’d, and out of hauntThis mad young man. But so much was our loveWe would not understand what was most fit,But like the owner of a foul disease,To keep it from divulging, let it feedEven on the pith of life. Where is he gone?

Queen

To draw apart the body he hath kill’d,O’er whom his very madness, like some oreAmong a mineral of metals base,Shows itself pure. He weeps for what is done.

King

O Gertrude, come away!The sun no sooner shall the mountains touchBut we will ship him hence, and this vile deedWe must with all our majesty and skillBoth countenance and excuse.—Ho, Guildenstern!

Re-enter Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Friends both, go join you with some further aid:Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain,And from his mother’s closet hath he dragg’d him.Go seek him out, speak fair, and bring the bodyInto the chapel. I pray you haste in this.

Exeunt Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.

Come, Gertrude, we’ll call up our wisest friends,And let them know both what we mean to doAnd what’s untimely done, so haply slander,Whose whisper o’er the world’s diameter,As level as the cannon to his blank,Transports his poison’d shot, may miss our name,And hit the woundless air. O, come away!My soul is full of discord and dismay.

Exeunt.