The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (876 page)

I hope all will be well. We must be patient: but I
cannot choose but weep, to think they should lay him
i' the cold ground. My brother shall know of it:
and so I thank you for your good counsel. Come, my
coach! Good night, ladies; good night, sweet ladies;
good night, good night.

Exit

KING CLAUDIUS

Follow her closely and watch her.

Follow her close; give her good watch,
I pray you.

Exit HORATIO

This is the result of deep grief. It comes from the death of her father. Sadness comes in swells. First, her father is killed. Next, your son is sent away by his own doings. Poor Ophelia did not get to mourn her father properly; we buried him so quickly. Now, the people are spreading nasty rumors about his death. She is now crazy with grief, and her brother who has secretly returned from France hears the gossip. He is going to think I killed his father, which is killing me.

O, this is the poison of deep grief; it springs
All from her father's death. O Gertrude, Gertrude,
When sorrows come, they come not single spies
But in battalions. First, her father slain:
Next, your son gone; and he most violent author
Of his own just remove: the people muddied,
Thick and unwholesome in their thoughts and whispers,
For good Polonius' death; and we have done but greenly,
In hugger-mugger to inter him: poor Ophelia
Divided from herself and her fair judgment,
Without the which we are pictures, or mere beasts:
Last, and as much containing as all these,
Her brother is in secret come from France;
Feeds on his wonder, keeps himself in clouds,
And wants not buzzers to infect his ear
With pestilent speeches of his father's death;
Wherein necessity, of matter beggar'd,
Will nothing stick our person to arraign
In ear and ear. O my dear Gertrude, this,
Like to a murdering-piece, in many places
Gives me superfluous death.

A noise within

QUEEN GERTRUDE

What was that?

Alack, what noise is this?

KING CLAUDIUS

Where are my guards? Let them stand by the door.

Where are my Switzers? Let them guard the door.

Enter another Gentleman

What is going on?

What is the matter?

Gentleman

Save yourself, my lord. Young Laertes is leading a riotous group across the lowlands. The crowds call him lord and shout, “We want Laertes to be our king,” like they have forgotten our customs. They are throwing their caps in the air and cheering, “King Laertes.”

Save yourself, my lord:
The ocean, overpeering of his list,
Eats not the flats with more impetuous haste
Than young Laertes, in a riotous head,
O'erbears your officers. The rabble call him lord;
And, as the world were now but to begin,
Antiquity forgot, custom not known,
The ratifiers and props of every word,
They cry 'Choose we: Laertes shall be king:'
Caps, hands, and tongues, applaud it to the clouds:
'Laertes shall be king, Laertes king!'

QUEEN GERTRUDE

They sound so cheerful, but they are after the wrong dog!

How cheerfully on the false trail they cry!
O, this is counter, you false Danish dogs!

KING CLAUDIUS

The doors are breaking.

The doors are broke.

Noise within

Enter LAERTES, armed; Danes following

LAERTES

Where is the king? Sirs, surround the area.

Where is this king? Sirs, stand you all without.

Danes

No, let’s go in.

No, let's come in.

LAERTES

I ask that you give me a moment.

I pray you, give me leave.

Danes

We will.

We will, we will.

They retire without the door

LAERTES

Thank you. Guard the door. Oh you vile king, give me my father!

I thank you: keep the door. O thou vile king,
Give me my father!

QUEEN GERTRUDE

Calm down, good Laertes.

Calmly, good Laertes.

LAERTES

I have one drop of blood that’s calm and it calls me a bastard-child, my father a fool, and my mother a harlot.

That drop of blood that's calm proclaims me bastard,
Cries cuckold to my father, brands the harlot
Even here, between the chaste unsmirched brow
Of my true mother.

KING CLAUDIUS

What is wrong, Laertes? Why are you leading this giant rebellion? Let him go, Gertrude. We have no need to fear, because God will protect us against traitors. Tell me, Laertes, why are you so angry? Let him go, Gertrude. Speak, man.

What is the cause, Laertes,
That thy rebellion looks so giant-like?
Let him go, Gertrude; do not fear our person:
There's such divinity doth hedge a king,
That treason can but peep to what it would,
Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes,
Why thou art thus incensed. Let him go, Gertrude.
Speak, man.

LAERTES

Where is my father?

Where is my father?

KING CLAUDIUS

He is dead.

Dead.

QUEEN GERTRUDE

But the king didn’t kill him.

But not by him.

KING CLAUDIUS

Let him make his demands.

Let him demand his fill.

LAERTES

How did he die? I will not be lied to or threatened with hell. I don’t care what happens anymore. I just want revenge for my father.

How came he dead? I'll not be juggled with:
To hell, allegiance! vows, to the blackest devil!
Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit!
I dare damnation. To this point I stand,
That both the worlds I give to negligence,
Let come what comes; only I'll be revenged
Most thoroughly for my father.

KING CLAUDIUS

Who’s controlling you?

Who shall stay you?

LAERTES

I am acting by my will alone, and I will use whatever means I have against you.

My will, not all the world:
And for my means, I'll husband them so well,
They shall go far with little.

KING CLAUDIUS

Good Laertes, if you want to know the details of your father’s death despite hurting his enemies and his friends?

Good Laertes,
If you desire to know the certainty
Of your dear father's death, is't writ in your revenge,
That, swoopstake, you will draw both friend and foe,
Winner and loser?

LAERTES

No, only his enemies.

None but his enemies.

KING CLAUDIUS

Do you know his enemies?

Will you know them then?

LAERTES

I will open my arms to his friends like a mother bird. I will die for them.

To his good friends thus wide I'll ope my arms;
And like the kind life-rendering pelican,
Repast them with my blood.

KING CLAUDIUS

Now, you’re talking like a good child and gentleman. I am innocent of your father’s death, and quite frankly I am still grieving.

Why, now you speak
Like a good child and a true gentleman.
That I am guiltless of your father's death,
And am most sensible in grief for it,
It shall as level to your judgment pierce
As day does to your eye.

Danes

[Within]

Let her in.

Let her come in.

LAERTES

What’s going on?

How now! what noise is that?

Re-enter OPHELIA

Oh heat, dry up my brains and salty tears sting my eyes. I swear I will get revenge for my sweet sister’s madness. Oh sweet rose! Dear sweet sister, Ophelia! My sister has lost her mind over our father’s death.

O heat, dry up my brains! tears seven times salt,
Burn out the sense and virtue of mine eye!
By heaven, thy madness shall be paid by weight,
Till our scale turn the beam. O rose of May!
Dear maid, kind sister, sweet Ophelia!
O heavens! is't possible, a young maid's wits
Should be as moral as an old man's life?
Nature is fine in love, and where 'tis fine,
It sends some precious instance of itself
After the thing it loves.

OPHELIA

[Sings]
They carried him away in his coffin. Hey non nonny, hey nonny. And on his grave, cried many a tear. Good bye, my dove!

They bore him barefaced on the bier;
Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny;
And in his grave rain'd many a tear:--
Fare you well, my dove!

LAERTES

If you had your sanity and persuaded me to take revenge, I would not be as moved as I am now.

Hadst thou thy wits, and didst persuade revenge,
It could not move thus.

OPHELIA

[Sings]
You must sing a-down, a-down. And you call him a-down-a. Oh, how the wheels turn around, that stole his master’s daughter.

You must sing a-down a-down,
An you call him a-down-a.
O, how the wheel becomes it! It is the false
steward, that stole his master's daughter.

LAERTES

This means more than sensible talk.

This nothing's more than matter.

OPHELIA

Rosemary is for remembrance. Remember. There are pansies for thoughts.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray,
love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts.

LAERTES

She is simply mad with memories.

A document in madness, thoughts and remembrance fitted.

OPHELIA

Here are fennel and columbines for you. And here is rue for you and me. There is a daisy and violets, but they withered up when my father died. He died well.

There's fennel for you, and columbines: there's rue
for you; and here's some for me: we may call it
herb-grace o' Sundays: O you must wear your rue with
a difference. There's a daisy: I would give you
some violets, but they withered all when my father
died: they say he made a good end,--

Sings

The sweet robin is my joy.

For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.

LAERTES

Despite her affliction, she is focusing on what is pretty.

Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself,
She turns to favour and to prettiness.

OPHELIA

[Sings]
And will he come again? Will he come again? No, no he is dead, and in his death-bed. He will never come again. His beard is white as snow, and his hair was white, too. He is gone, gone, and we moan, “God have mercy on his soul!” And all the Christian souls, I pray God be with you.