Hamlet
Act III, Scene 3
Elsinore. A room in Elsinore castle.
- Enter King, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern.
Claudius
1 - 7- I like him not, nor stands it safe with us
- To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you.
- I your commission will forthwith dispatch,
- And he to England shall along with you.
- The terms of our estate may not endure
- Hazard so near ’s as doth hourly grow
- Out of his brows.
Guildenstern
8 - 11- We will ourselves provide.
- Most holy and religious fear it is
- To keep those many many bodies safe
- That live and feed upon your Majesty.
Rosencrantz
12 - 24- The single and peculiar life is bound
- With all the strength and armor of the mind
- To keep itself from noyance, but much more
- That spirit upon whose weal depends and rests
- The lives of many. The cess of majesty
- Dies not alone, but like a gulf doth draw
- What’s near it with it. Or it is a massy wheel
- Fix’d on the summit of the highest mount,
- To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things
- Are mortis’d and adjoin’d, which when it falls,
- Each small annexment, petty consequence,
- Attends the boist’rous ruin. Never alone
- Did the King sigh, but with a general groan.
Claudius
25 - 27- Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage,
- For we will fetters put about this fear,
- Which now goes too free-footed.
Rosencrantz
28- We will haste us.
- Exeunt Gentlemen, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.
- Enter Polonius.
Polonius
29 - 37- My lord, he’s going to his mother’s closet.
- Behind the arras I’ll convey myself
- To hear the process. I’ll warrant she’ll tax him home,
- And as you said, and wisely was it said,
- ’Tis meet that some more audience than a mother,
- Since nature makes them partial, should o’erhear
- The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege,
- I’ll call upon you ere you go to bed,
- And tell you what I know.
Claudius
38 - 75- Thanks, dear my lord.
- Exit Polonius.
- O, my offense is rank, it smells to heaven,
- It hath the primal eldest curse upon’t,
- A brother’s murder. Pray can I not,
- Though inclination be as sharp as will.
- My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent,
- And, like a man to double business bound,
- I stand in pause where I shall first begin,
- And both neglect. What if this cursed hand
- Were thicker than itself with brother’s blood,
- Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens
- To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy
- But to confront the visage of offense?
- And what’s in prayer but this twofold force,
- To be forestalled ere we come to fall,
- Or pardon’d being down? Then I’ll look up.
- My fault is past, but, O, what form of prayer
- Can serve my turn? “Forgive me my foul murder”?
- That cannot be, since I am still possess’d
- Of those effects for which I did the murder:
- My crown, mine own ambition, and my queen.
- May one be pardon’d and retain th’ offense?
- In the corrupted currents of this world
- Offense’s gilded hand may shove by justice,
- And oft ’tis seen the wicked prize itself
- Buys out the law, but ’tis not so above:
- There is no shuffling, there the action lies
- In his true nature, and we ourselves compell’d,
- Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults,
- To give in evidence. What then? What rests?
- Try what repentance can. What can it not?
- Yet what can it, when one can not repent?
- O wretched state! O bosom black as death!
- O limed soul, that struggling to be free
- Art more engag’d! Help, angels! Make assay,
- Bow, stubborn knees, and heart, with strings of steel,
- Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe!
- All may be well.
- He kneels.
- Enter Hamlet.
Hamlet
76 - 99- Now might I do it pat, now ’a is a-praying;
- And now I’ll do’t—and so ’a goes to heaven,
- And so am I reveng’d. That would be scann’d:
- A villain kills my father, and for that
- I, his sole son, do this same villain send
- To heaven.
- Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge.
- ’A took my father grossly, full of bread,
- With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May,
- And how his audit stands who knows save heaven?
- But in our circumstance and course of thought
- ’Tis heavy with him. And am I then revenged,
- To take him in the purging of his soul,
- When he is fit and season’d for his passage?
- No!
- Up, sword, and know thou a more horrid hent:
- When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage,
- Or in th’ incestuous pleasure of his bed,
- At game a-swearing, or about some act
- That has no relish of salvation in’t—
- Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven,
- And that his soul may be as damn’d and black
- As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays,
- This physic but prolongs thy sickly days.
- Exit.
Claudius
100 - 101- Rising.
- My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
- Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
- Exit.