night, mother!
My lord!
My lord!
Lord Hamlet!
What noise?
Who calls on Hamlet?
What have you done, my lord,
with the dead body?
Compounded it with dust, whereto
'tis kin.
Tell us where 'tis, that we may bear
it to the chapel.
- Do not believe it.
- Believe what?
That I can keep your counsel,
and not my own.
Besides, to be demanded
of a sponge!
What replication should be made
by the son of a king?
Take you me for a sponge?
Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's
countenance, his rewards.
But such officers do the king
best services in the end.
He keeps them, like an ape,
in the corner of his jaw,
first mouthed,
to be last swallowed.
When he needs what you have
gleaned, it is but squeezing you,
and, sponge, you shall be dry again.
I understand you not, my lord.
I am glad of it. A knavish speech
sleeps in a foolish ear.
My lord, you must tell us where the
body is, and go with us to the king.
The body is with the king,
but the king is not with the body.
The king is a thing...
- A thing, my lord?
- Of nothing.
Hide fox,
and all after!
Bring me to him.
Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius?
At supper.
At supper?
Where?
Not where he eats,
but where he is eaten.
A certain convocation of politic
worms are e'en at him.
Your worm is your only
emperor for diet.
We fat all creatures else
to fat us,
and we fat ourselves
for maggots.
Your fat king
and your lean beggar
is but variable service... two dishes,
but to one table.
That's the end.
Alas, alas!
A man may fish with the worm
that has eat of a king,
and eat of the fish
that has fed of that worm.
What dost thou mean by this?
Nothing but to show you
how a king may go a progress
through the guts of a beggar.
Where is Polonius?
In heaven.
Send thither to see.
If your messenger find him not,
seek him in the other place yourself.
But if you find him not within this
month,
you shall nose him as you go up
the stairs into the lobby.
Go seek him there.
He will stay till ye come.
Hamlet, this deed,
For thine especial safety,
Must send thee
With fiery quickness.
Therefore prepare thyself. The bark
is ready.
And the wind at help, and every thing
Is bent for England.
- For England?
- Ay, Hamlet.
Good.
But, come, for England!
Farewell, dear mother.
- Thy loving father, Hamlet.
- My mother.
Father and mother is man and wife,
man and wife is one flesh.
And so, my mother.
Come!
For England!
Go, captain, from me greet the Danish
king.
Tell him that Fortinbras claims the
conveyance of a march over his kingdom.
You know the rendezvous.
If that his majesty
Would aught with us,
We shall express our duty in his eye.
Go softly on.
- Whose powers are these?
- They are of Norway.
- How purposed?
- Against some part of Poland.
- Who commands them?
- Lord Fortinbras.
Goes it against the main of Poland,
Or for some frontier?
Truly to speak,
We go to gain a little patch of ground
That has in it no profit but the name.
To pay five ducats, five,
I would not farm it, nor
Will it yield to Norway or the Pole
A ranker rate, should it be sold.
Why, then, the Polack never will
defend it.
Yes, it is already garrisoned.
- I humbly thank you, sir.
- God be with you, sir.
Will't please you go, my lord?
I'll be with you straight. Go a little
before.
Two thousand souls
and twenty thousand ducats
Will not debate the question of this
straw!
This is the imposthume of much
wealth and peace,
That inward breaks, and shows no
cause without
Why the man dies.
Farewell...
Farewell...
And do remember me!
Upon arrival in England,
Lord Hamlet
is to be beheaded.
Let it work,
For 'tis the sport to have the engineer
Hoist with his own petar.
But I will delve
one yard below their mines,
And blow them at the moon!
O, 'tis most sweet when in one line
Two crafts directly meet.
On the view and knowing of these
contents,
The bearers should be put to sudden
death,
Not shriving-time allowed.
When sorrows come,