Osr. hit, a very palpable hit. Laer. [They play. Laer. No. Judgment. Well,-again. King. Stay, give me drink: Hamlet, this pearl is Here's to thy health. Give him the cup. [thine; [Trumpets sound; and cannon shot off within. Ham. I'll play this bout first, set it by awhile. Come.-Another hit; What say you? [They play. Laer. A touch, a touch, I do confess. King. Our son shall win. Queen. He's fat, and scant of breath. Here, Hamlet, take my napkin, rub thy brows: The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet. Ham. Good, madam. King. Gertrude, do not drink. Queen. I will, my lord;-I pray you, pardon me. King. It is the poison'd cup: it is too late. [Aside. Ham. I dare not drink yet, madam; by and by. Queen. Come, let me wipe thy face. Laer. My lord, I'll hit him now. King. I do not think it. Laer. And yet it is almost against my conscience. [Aside. Ham. Come, for the third, Laertes: You but dally; I pray you, pass with your best violence; I am afeard you make a wanton of me. Laer. Say you so? come on. Osr. Nothing neither way. Laer. Have at you now. That are but mutes or audience to this act, I am more an antique Roman than a Dane, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, What warlike noise is this? Osr. Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from To the ambassadors of England gives [Poland, This warlike volley. Ham. O, I die, Horatio; The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit; I cannot live to hear the news from England; But I do prophesy the election lights On Fortinbras; he has my dying voice; So tell him, with the occurrents, more and less, Which have solicited.-The rest is silence. [Dies. Hor. Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest! [prince; Why does the drum come hither? [March within. Enter Fortinbras, the English Ambassadors, and others. Fort. Where is this sight? Hor. What is it ye would see? If aught of woe, or wonder, cease your search. Fort. This quarry cries on havoc.-O proud death! What feast is toward in thine eternal cell, [They play. That thou so many princes, at a shoot, So bloodily hast struck? 1 Amb. [Laertes wounds Hamlet; then, in scuffling, they The drink, the drink;-I am poison'd! [Dies. Envenom'd too!-Then, venom, to thy work. Ham. Heaven make thee free of it! I follow thee. The sight is dismal; And our affairs from England come too late: The ears are senseless that should give us hearing, To tell him, his commandment is fulfill'd, That Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead: Where should we have our thanks? Hor. Not from his mouth, Had it the ability of life to thank you; He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question, You from the Polack wars, and you from England Are here arriv'd, give order, that these bodies High on a stage be placed to the view; And let me speak, to the yet unknowing world, How these things came about: So shall you hear Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts; Of accidental judgments, casual slaughters; Of deaths put on by cunning, and forc'd cause; And, in this upshot, purposes mistook Fall'n on the inventors' heads: all this can I Truly deliver. Fort, Let us haste to hear it, And call the noblest to the audience. For me, with sorrow I embrace my fortune; I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, Take up the body:-Such a sight as this MARGARELON, a bastard son of ALEXANDER, servant to Cres- PROLOGUE. In Troy there lies the scene. From isles of Greece With wanton Paris sleeps,-and that 's the quarrel. And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits, ACT I. SCENE I.-Troy. Before Priam's Palace. Enter Troilus armed, and Pandarus. Tro. Call here my varlet, I'll unarm again: Why should I war without the walls of Troy, That find such cruel battle here within? Each Trojan that is master of his heart, Let him to field; Troilus, alas! hath none. Pan. Will this gear ne'er be mended? [strength, Tro. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant; But I am weaker than a woman's tear, Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, Less valiant than the virgin in the night, And skill-less as unpractis'd infancy. Pan. Well, I have told you enough of this: for my part I'll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding. Tro. Have I not tarried? Pan. Ay, the grinding: but you must tarry the Tro. Have I not tarried? [bolting. Pan. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the Tro. Still have I tarried. [leavening. Pan. Ay, to the leavening: but here 's yet in the word hereafter, the kneading, the making of the [sida. Servant to Diomedes. HELEN, wife to Menelaus. ANDROMACHE, wife to Hector. CASSANDRA, daughter to Priam; a prophetess. CRESSIDA, daughter to Calchas. Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants. SCENE.-TROY, and the Grecian Camp before it. cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking: nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips. Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be, Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do. At Priam's royal table do I sit; And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts,-So, traitor! when she comes !-When is she thence! Pan. Well, she looked yesternight fairer than ever I saw her look, or any woman else. Tro. I was about to tell thee,-When my heart, As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain; Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, I have (as when the sun doth light a storm) Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a sinile: But sorrow that is couch'd in seeming gladness Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness. Pan. An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's, (well, go to,) there were no more comparison between the women.-But, for my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they terin it, praise her,-But I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit; but Tro. O, Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus,When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie drown'd, Reply not in how many fathoms deep They lie indrench'd. I tell thee, I am mad Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice; Let her be as Pan. I speak no more than truth. Tro. Thou dost not speak so much. Pan. 'Faith, I'll not meddle in 't. she is: if she be fair 't is the better for her; an she be not she has the mends in her own hands. Tro. Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus? Pan. I have had my labour for my travail; illthought on of her, and ill-thought on of you: gone between and between, but small thanks for my labour. [me? Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus? what, with Pan. Because she is kin to me, therefore she 's not so fair as Helen: an she were not kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday as Helen is on Sunday. But what care 1! I care not an she were a black-a moor; 't is all one to me. Tro. Say I she is not fair? Pan. I do not care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay behind her father; let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her the next time I see her; for my part, I'll meddle nor make no more in the whereof hath ever since kept Hector fasting and Tn. Sweet Pandarus,- [Exit Pandarus. An alarum. Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours! peace, rude sounds Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair, But Pancarus-O gods, how do you plague me! Ene. How now, prince Troilus? wherefore not [sorts, Tro. Because not there: This woman's answer [Alarum. Troilus, by Menelaus. But to the sport abroad;-Are you bound thither? Come, go we then together. SCENE II.-The same. A Street. Cres. So do all men; unless they are drunk, sick, Alex. This inan, lady, hath robbed many beasts of their particular additions; he is as valiant as the lion, churlish as the bear, slow as the elephant: a man into whom nature hath so crowded humours, that his valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced with discretion: there is no man hath a virtue that he hath not a glimpse of; nor any man an attaint but he carries some stain of it: he is melancholy without cause, and merry against the hair: He hath the joints of everything; but everything so out of joint, that he is a gouty Briareus, many hands and no use; or purblinded Argus, all eyes and no sight. Cres. But how should this man, that makes me smile, make Hector angry? Alex. They say he yesterday coped Hector in the battle, and struck him down; the disdain and shame! waking. Enter Pandarus. Cres. Who comes here! Alex. Madam, your uncle Pandarus. Pan. Good morrow, cousin Cressid: What do you Cres. This morning, uncle. Pan. What were you talking of when I came? Cres. Hector was gone; but Helen was not up. Cres. Ay; if I ever saw him before, and knew him. Cres. Then you say as I say; for I am sure he is [grees. Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus, in some deCres. 'T is just to each of them; he is himself. Pan. Himself? Alas, poor Troilus! I would he Cres. So he is. [were. Pan. 'Condition, I had gone barefoot to India. Cres. He is not Hector. Pan. Himself? no, he 's not himself.-'Would 'a were himself! Well, the gods are above. Time must friend, or end: Well, Troilus, well,-I would iny heart were in her body !-No, Hector is not a better man than Troilus. Cres. Excuse me. Pan. He is elder. Cres. Pardon me, pardon me. Pan. The other 's not come to 't; you shall tell me another tale when the other 's come to 't. Hector shall not have his wit this year. Cres. He shall not need it, if he have his own. Cres. No matter. Pan. Nor his beauty. Cres. 'T would not become him, his own 's better. Pan. You have no judgment, niece: Helen herself swore the other day, that Troilus, for a brown favour, (for so 't is, I must confess,-Not brown neither. Cres. No, but brown. Pun. Faith, to say truth, brown and not brown. Cres. Then Troilus should have too much: if she praised him above, his complexion is higher than his; he having colour enough, and the other higher, is too flaming a praise for a good complexion. I had as lief Helen's golden tongue had commended Troilus for a copper nose. Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves him bet- Cres. Then she 's a merry Greek, indeed. Cres. Juno have mercy!-How came it cloven? smiling becomes him better than any man in all jesting: there's laying on; tak 't off who will, as Phrygia. Cres. O, he smiles valiantly. they say: there be hacks! Pan. Does he not? Cres. Be those with swords? Cres. O yes, an 't were a cloud in autumn. Pan. Why, go to then.-But to prove to you that Helen loves Troilus,[it so. Cres. Troilus will stand to the proof, if you'll prove Pan. Troilus? why, he esteems her no more than I esteem an addle egg. Cres. If you love an addle egg as well as you love an idle head, you would eat chickens i' the shell. Pan. I cannot choose but laugh, to think how she tickled his chin!-Indeed, she has a marvellous white hand, I must needs confess. Cres. Without the rack. [on his chin. Pan. And she takes upon her to spy a white hair Cres. Alas, poor chin! many a wart is richer. Pan. But there was such laughing;-Queen Hecuba laughed, that her eyes ran o'er. Cres. With mill-stones. Pan. And Cassandra laughed. Paris passes over. Pan. Swords? anything, he cares not: an the devil come to him, it's all one: By god's lid, it does one's heart good:-Yonder comes Paris, yonder comes Paris: look ye yonder, niece. Is 't not a gallant man too, is 't not?-Why, this is brave now.-Who said he came hurt home to-day? he's not hurt: why, could see Troilus now!-you shall see Troilus anon. this will do Helen's heart good now. Ha! 'would I Cres. Who's that? Helenus passes over. Pan. That 's Helenus,-I marvel where Troilus is: -That's Helenus;-I think he went not forth today :-That 's Helenus. Cres. Can Helenus fight, uncle? Pan. Helenus? no;-yes, he 'll fight indifferent well:-I marvel where Troilus is!-Hark; do you not Cres. But there was more temperate fire under the hear the people cry, Troilus?-Helenus is a priest. pot of her eyes:-Did her eyes run o'er too? Pan. And Hector laughed. Cres. At what was all this laughing? Pan. Marry, at the white hair that Helen spied on Troilus' chin. Cres. An 't had been a green hair, I should have laughed too. Pan. They laughed not so much at the hair, as at his pretty answer. Cres. What was his answer? Pan. Quoth she, 'Here 's but two and fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is white.' Cres. This is her question. Pan. That 's true; make no question of that. Two and fifty hairs, quoth he, and one white: That white hair is my father, and all the rest are his sons.' Jupiter quoth she, which of these hairs is Paris my husband?' The forked one,' quoth he, 'pluck it out, and give it him.' But, there was such laughing! and Helen so blushed, and Paris so chafed, and all the rest so laughed, that it passed. Cres. So let it now; for it has been a great while going by. Pan. Well, cousin, I told you a thing yesterday; Cres. So I do. [think on 't. Pan. I'll be sworn 't is true; he will weep you, an 't were a man born in April. Cres. And I'll spring up in his tears, an 't were a nettle against May. [1 retreat sounded. Pan. Hark, they are coming from the field: Shall we stand up here, and see them, as they pass toward Ilium? good niece, do; sweet niece Cressida. Cres. At your pleasure. Pan. Here, here, here's an excellent place; here we may see most bravely: I'll tell you them all by their names, as they pass by; but mark Troilus above the rest. Cres. What sneaking fellow comes yonder? Troilus passes over. Pan. Where? yonder? that 's Deiphobus: "Tis Pan. Mark him; note him;-0 brave Troilus!look well upon him, niece; look you, how his sword is bloodied, and his helm more hacked than Hector's: And how he looks, and how he goes!-O admirable youth! he ne'er saw three-and-twenty. Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way; had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable man! Paris?-Paris is dirt to him; and, I warrant, Helen, to change, would give money to boot. Forces pass over the stage. Cres. Here come more. Pan. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, chaff and bran! porridge after meat! I could live and die i' the eyes of Troilus. Ne'er look, ne'er look; the eagles are gone; crows and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such a man as Troilus, than Aga. memnon and all Greece. Cres. There is among the Greeks, Achilles; a bet. ter man than Troilus. Pan. Achilles? a drayman, a porter, a very camel. Cres. Well, well. Pan. Well, well?-Why, have you any discretion! have you any eyes? Do you know what a man is! Is not birth, beauty, good shape, discourse, man hood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality, and so forth, the spice and salt that season a man?' with no date in the pie,-for then the man's date's Cres. Ay, a minced man: and then to be baked out. I Pan, You are such another! Enter Troilus' Boy. Boy. Sir, my lord would instantly speak with you. Pan. Where? Boy. At your own house; there he unarms him. Pan. I'll be with you, niece, by and by. Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love's full sacrifice, Eut more in Troilus thousand-fold I see Men prize the thing ungain'd more than it is: Senet. Enter Agamemnon, Nestor, Ulysses, Agam. Princes, I give to both your speeches,-which were such Ulyss. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been down, The specialty of rule hath been neglected: To whom the foragers shall all repair, What honey is expected? Degree being vizarded, The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. [ters The heavens themselves, the planets and this centre, disas-Observe degree, priority, and place, What grief hath set the jaundice on your cheeks? [else In fortune's love: for then, the bold and coward, Nest. With due observance of thy godlike seat, But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage And flies fled under shade, why, then, the thing of courage, As rous'd with rage, with rage doth sympathize, Agamemnon,- Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, What plagues, and what portents! what mutiny! And the rude son should strike his father dead: So doubly seconded with will and power, And this neglection of degree is it, And 't is this fever that keeps Troy on foot, Agam. The nature of the sickness found, Ulysses Ulyss. The great Achilles, whom opinion crowns The sinew and the forehand of our host, Having his ear full of his airy fame, Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent Lies mocking our designs: With him, Patroclus, |