Hamlet — Act 1, Scene 2

original text and modern English, side by side

Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle · King, Hamlet, Queen, Laertes, Polonius, Horatio, Marcellus, Both, All

Claudius holds his first court as King of Denmark: he announces his marriage to Gertrude, his dead brother's widow, sends ambassadors to defuse young Fortinbras's threat, grants Laertes leave to return to France, and orders Hamlet to stop mourning and stay at Elsinore instead of returning to university. Left alone, Hamlet delivers his first soliloquy, sickened by his mother's remarriage barely two months after his father's death. Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo then tell him about the ghost, and Hamlet arranges to stand watch that night.

Enter Claudius King of Denmark, Gertrude the Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Laertes, Voltemand, Cornelius, Lords and Attendant.

King

Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother’s death

The memory be green, and that it us befitted

To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom

To be contracted in one brow of woe;

Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature

That we with wisest sorrow think on him,

Together with remembrance of ourselves.

Although the memory of the death of Hamlet, our dear brother, is still fresh, and it would have been fitting for us to hold our hearts in grief and for the whole kingdom to draw itself into a single frown of sorrow, good sense has fought so hard against natural feeling that we now think of him with a measured, intelligent sorrow while also remembering our duty to ourselves.

Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen,

Th’imperial jointress to this warlike state,

Have we, as ’twere with a defeated joy,

With one auspicious and one dropping eye,

With mirth in funeral, and with dirge in marriage,

In equal scale weighing delight and dole,

Taken to wife;

Therefore we have married the woman who was once our sister-in-law and is now our queen, the joint ruler of this warlike state — with a kind of defeated joy, one eye bright and one eye weeping, laughter at the funeral and a dirge at the wedding, weighing happiness and grief on equal scales.

nor have we herein barr’d

Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone

With this affair along.

And in doing this we haven't ignored your own good counsel, which has supported the whole affair freely.

For all, our thanks.

Our thanks to all of you.

Now follows, that you know young Fortinbras,

Holding a weak supposal of our worth,

Or thinking by our late dear brother’s death

Our state to be disjoint and out of frame,

Colleagued with this dream of his advantage,

He hath not fail’d to pester us with message,

Importing the surrender of those lands

Lost by his father, with all bonds of law,

To our most valiant brother.

Now, next: as you know, young Fortinbras — either rating our strength poorly, or imagining that our late dear brother's death has left the state unhinged and out of joint — has teamed up with that fantasy of an easy advantage and has been steadily pestering us with demands for the surrender of the lands his father lost, by proper legal contract, to our most valiant brother.

So much for him.

Now for ourself and for this time of meeting:

Now to our own business and the reason for this meeting.

Thus much the business is: we have here writ

To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,

Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears

Of this his nephew’s purpose, to suppress

His further gait herein; in that the levies,

The lists, and full proportions are all made

Out of his subject:

It comes to this: we have written here to the King of Norway, young Fortinbras's uncle, who is feeble and bedridden and has barely heard of his nephew's plans, asking him to stop the boy going any further — since the conscription, the muster rolls and the whole supply effort are all drawn from his own subjects.

and we here dispatch

You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand,

For bearers of this greeting to old Norway,

Giving to you no further personal power

To business with the King, more than the scope

Of these dilated articles allow.

And we hereby send you, good Cornelius, and you, Voltemand, to carry this message to old Norway, giving you no personal authority to negotiate with the King beyond what these detailed articles permit.

Farewell; and let your haste commend your duty.

Farewell, and let your speed prove your loyalty.

CORNELIUS and VOLTEMAND.

In that, and all things, will we show our duty.

CORNELIUS and VOLTEMAND: In this and in everything, we'll do our duty.

King

We doubt it nothing:

We have no doubt of it.

heartily farewell.

A warm farewell.

Exeunt Voltemand and Cornelius.

King

And now, Laertes, what’s the news with you?

And now, Laertes — what news do you have?

You told us of some suit.

You mentioned a request.

What is’t, Laertes?

What is it, Laertes?

You cannot speak of reason to the Dane,

And lose your voice.

You can't make a reasonable request to the King of Denmark and be refused.

What wouldst thou beg, Laertes,

That shall not be my offer, not thy asking?

What could you ask for, Laertes, that I wouldn't offer before you had to ask?

The head is not more native to the heart,

The hand more instrumental to the mouth,

Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father.

The head is not more naturally joined to the heart, nor the hand more useful to the mouth, than the throne of Denmark is to your father.

What wouldst thou have, Laertes?

What do you want, Laertes?

Laertes

Dread my lord,

Your leave and favour to return to France,

My revered lord, your permission and blessing to go back to France.

From whence though willingly I came to Denmark

To show my duty in your coronation;

I came to Denmark willingly enough, to show my loyalty at your coronation

Yet now I must confess, that duty done,

My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France,

And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon.

— but now, I have to admit, with that duty done my thoughts and wishes turn toward France again, and I lay them before your gracious permission and pardon.

King

Have you your father’s leave?

Do you have your father's consent?

What says Polonius?

What does Polonius say?

Polonius

He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave

By laboursome petition; and at last

Upon his will I seal’d my hard consent.

He does, my lord — he dragged my reluctant permission out of me with relentless pleading, and in the end I stamped my grudging approval on his wish.

I do beseech you give him leave to go.

I beg you, let him go.

King

Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine,

And thy best graces spend it at thy will!

Then enjoy your time, Laertes; it's yours, and may your best qualities spend it as you like.

But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son—

But now, my nephew Hamlet — and my son—

Aside.

Hamlet

A little more than kin, and less than kind.

A bit more than a nephew, and a good deal less than a son — and nothing like my kind.

King

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

How is it that the clouds are still hanging over you?

Hamlet

Not so, my lord,

Not at all, my lord.

I am too much i’ the sun.

I'm out in too much sun.

Queen

Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off,

And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark.

Good Hamlet, throw off that night-black color and look at the King of Denmark like a friend.

Do not for ever with thy vailed lids

Seek for thy noble father in the dust.

Don't spend the rest of your life with your eyes lowered, hunting for your noble father in the dirt.

Thou know’st ’tis common, all that lives must die,

Passing through nature to eternity.

You know it's an ordinary thing — everything that lives has to die, passing out of nature into eternity.

Hamlet

Ay, madam, it is common.

Yes, madam, it's ordinary.

Queen

If it be,

Why seems it so particular with thee?

If it is, then why does it seem so special in your case?

Hamlet

Seems, madam!

Seem, madam?

Nay, it is;

No — it is.

I know not seems.

I don't know anything about seeming.

’Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,

Nor customary suits of solemn black,

Nor windy suspiration of forc’d breath,

No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,

Nor the dejected haviour of the visage,

Together with all forms, moods, shows of grief,

That can denote me truly.

It isn't only my black coat, good mother, nor the usual formal mourning clothes, nor gusty sighing, nor floods of tears in the eye, nor a downcast expression, nor any of the other forms and moods and displays of grief that can really show what I am.

These indeed seem,

For they are actions that a man might play;

Those things can only seem, because they're all actions a man could put on.

But I have that within which passeth show;

What I have inside goes beyond any performance.

These but the trappings and the suits of woe.

All that other stuff is just the costume and props of sorrow.

King

’Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet,

To give these mourning duties to your father;

It's sweet, Hamlet, and it does you credit, to pay these mourning duties to your father.

But you must know, your father lost a father,

That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound

In filial obligation, for some term

To do obsequious sorrow.

But you should recognize that your father lost a father, and that father lost his, and each survivor was bound by a son's obligation to grieve dutifully for a certain period.

But to persevere

In obstinate condolement is a course

Of impious stubbornness.

But to keep it up in stubborn mourning is a kind of ungodly obstinacy.

’Tis unmanly grief,

It's unmanly grief.

It shows a will most incorrect to heaven,

A heart unfortified, a mind impatient,

An understanding simple and unschool’d;

It shows a will that refuses to accept heaven's plan, a heart with no defenses, an impatient mind, a shallow and uneducated understanding.

For what we know must be, and is as common

As any the most vulgar thing to sense,

Why should we in our peevish opposition

Take it to heart?

When something has to happen and is as common as the most ordinary thing we can perceive, why should we take it personally in petulant resistance?

Fie, ’tis a fault to heaven,

A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,

To reason most absurd, whose common theme

Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried,

From the first corse till he that died today,

‘This must be so.’

For shame — it's an offense against heaven, an offense against the dead, an offense against nature, and absurd to reason, whose constant subject is the death of fathers, and which has always said, from the first corpse down to the man who died today, 'This is how it must be.'

We pray you throw to earth

This unprevailing woe, and think of us

As of a father;

Please throw off this useless grief and think of me as a father.

for let the world take note

You are the most immediate to our throne,

And with no less nobility of love

Than that which dearest father bears his son

Do I impart toward you.

Let the world take note that you stand nearest to my throne, and that I feel toward you a love no less noble than the love the fondest father has for his son.

For your intent

In going back to school in Wittenberg,

It is most retrograde to our desire:

As for your plan to go back to school in Wittenberg, that runs completely counter to what we want.

And we beseech you bend you to remain

Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,

Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son.

Please, bring yourself to stay here, where we can look on you and be cheered and comforted — as our chief courtier, our nephew, and our son.

Queen

Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet.

Don't let your mother's prayers go to waste, Hamlet.

I pray thee stay with us;

Please stay with us.

go not to Wittenberg.

Don't go to Wittenberg.

Hamlet

I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

I'll do my best to obey you, madam.

King

Why, ’tis a loving and a fair reply.

There — that's a loving and gracious answer.

Be as ourself in Denmark.

Live in Denmark as I do.

Madam, come;

Madam, come.

This gentle and unforc’d accord of Hamlet

Sits smiling to my heart;

Hamlet's gentle, uncoerced agreement makes my heart smile,

in grace whereof,

No jocund health that Denmark drinks today

But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell,

And the King’s rouse the heaven shall bruit again,

Re-speaking earthly thunder.

and to mark it, every cheerful toast the King of Denmark drinks today will be announced by the great cannon to the clouds, and the sky will echo the King's drinking back, repeating the earth's thunder.

Come away.

Exeunt all but Hamlet.

Hamlet

O that this too too solid flesh would melt,

Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!

Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d

His canon ’gainst self-slaughter.

Oh, if only this all-too-solid flesh of mine would melt, thaw, and dissolve itself into dew — or if only God hadn't set his law against suicide.

O God! O God!

God, God!

How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable

Seem to me all the uses of this world!

How exhausting, stale, pointless and useless everything in this world seems to me.

Fie on’t! Oh fie!

It's disgusting — disgusting.

’tis an unweeded garden

That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature

Possess it merely.

The world is a garden nobody weeds, running to seed, and coarse, rank things have taken it over completely.

That it should come to this!

But two months dead—nay, not so much, not two:

Barely two months dead — no, not that long, not two.

So excellent a king; that was to this

Hyperion to a satyr;

Such an outstanding king; compared to this one, Apollo next to a goat.

so loving to my mother,

That he might not beteem the winds of heaven

Visit her face too roughly.

So loving to my mother that he wouldn't let the winds of heaven blow on her face too roughly.

Heaven and earth!

Must I remember?

Heaven and earth, do I have to remember?

Why, she would hang on him

As if increase of appetite had grown

By what it fed on;

She used to cling to him as though feeding her appetite only made it grow

and yet, within a month—

Let me not think on’t—

— and yet within a month — let me not think about it.

Frailty, thy name is woman!

Weakness, your name is woman.

A little month, or ere those shoes were old

With which she followed my poor father’s body

Like Niobe, all tears.—

A single month, before the shoes she wore following my poor father's coffin were even worn out — weeping like Niobe, all tears —

Why she, even she—

O God! A beast that wants discourse of reason

Would have mourn’d longer,—married with mine uncle,

My father’s brother; but no more like my father

Than I to Hercules.

and she, of all people, she — God, an animal without the power of reason would have mourned longer — married my uncle, my father's brother, but no more like my father than I'm like Hercules.

Within a month,

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears

Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,

She married.

Within a month, before the salt of her false tears had stopped stinging her raw eyes, she married.

O most wicked speed, to post

With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

Such vicious speed, to leap so nimbly into incestuous sheets!

It is not, nor it cannot come to good.

It isn't good and it can't come to any good.

But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.

But break, my heart, because I have to keep my mouth shut.

Enter Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo.

Horatio

Hail to your lordship!

Greetings, my lord.

Hamlet

I am glad to see you well:

Horatio, or I do forget myself.

I'm glad to see you well — Horatio, or I've forgotten my own name.

Horatio

The same, my lord,

And your poor servant ever.

The same, my lord, and always your humble servant.

Hamlet

Sir, my good friend;

I’ll change that name with you:

Sir, my good friend — I'll trade titles with you and be yours.

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?—

And what are you doing away from Wittenberg, Horatio?

Marcellus?

Marcellus

My good lord.

Hamlet

I am very glad to see you.—

I'm very glad to see you.

Good even, sir.—

Good evening, sir.

But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

But seriously, what are you doing away from Wittenberg?

Horatio

A truant disposition, good my lord.

A truant streak, my good lord.

Hamlet

I would not hear your enemy say so;

Nor shall you do my ear that violence,

To make it truster of your own report

Against yourself.

I wouldn't let your worst enemy say that about you, and you won't do my ear the violence of making it believe your own slander against yourself.

I know you are no truant.

I know you're no truant.

But what is your affair in Elsinore?

But what's your business in Elsinore?

We’ll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

We'll teach you to drink hard before you leave.

Horatio

My lord, I came to see your father’s funeral.

My lord, I came for your father's funeral.

Hamlet

I prithee do not mock me, fellow-student.

Don't mock me, fellow student.

I think it was to see my mother’s wedding.

I think you came for my mother's wedding.

Horatio

Indeed, my lord, it follow’d hard upon.

It's true, my lord, the one followed close after the other.

Hamlet

Thrift, thrift, Horatio!

Economy, Horatio, economy!

The funeral bak’d meats

Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.

The leftovers baked for the funeral were served cold at the wedding banquet.

Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven

Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio.

I'd rather have met my worst enemy in the afterlife than ever seen that day, Horatio.

My father,—methinks I see my father.

My father — I think I see my father.

Horatio

Where, my lord?

Hamlet

In my mind’s eye, Horatio.

In my mind's eye, Horatio.

Horatio

I saw him once;

I saw him once.

he was a goodly king.

He was a fine king.

Hamlet

He was a man, take him for all in all,

I shall not look upon his like again.

He was a man, taking him all together, and I won't see his equal again.

Horatio

My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.

My lord, I think I saw him last night.

Hamlet

Saw?

Who?

Saw who?

Horatio

My lord, the King your father.

My lord, the King, your father.

Hamlet

The King my father!

The King, my father!

Horatio

Season your admiration for a while

With an attent ear, till I may deliver

Upon the witness of these gentlemen

This marvel to you.

Hold back your astonishment for a moment and listen carefully, until I can tell you this extraordinary thing, with these gentlemen as witnesses.

Hamlet

For God’s love let me hear.

For God's sake, let me hear it.

Horatio

Two nights together had these gentlemen,

Marcellus and Barnardo, on their watch

In the dead waste and middle of the night,

Been thus encounter’d.

Two nights running, these gentlemen — Marcellus and Barnardo — were on watch in the dead, empty middle of the night when they met this.

A figure like your father,

Armed at point exactly, cap-à-pie,

Appears before them, and with solemn march

Goes slow and stately by them:

A figure exactly like your father, fully armed from head to foot, appears in front of them, and with a solemn tread walks slowly and grandly past them.

thrice he walk’d

By their oppress’d and fear-surprised eyes,

Within his truncheon’s length; whilst they, distill’d

Almost to jelly with the act of fear,

Stand dumb, and speak not to him.

Three times he walked past their frightened, staring eyes, close enough to touch with his baton, while the two of them, practically melted to jelly with fear, stood dumbstruck and said nothing to him.

This to me

In dreadful secrecy impart they did,

And I with them the third night kept the watch,

Where, as they had deliver’d, both in time,

Form of the thing, each word made true and good,

The apparition comes.

They told me this in terrified secrecy, and on the third night I kept the watch with them — and just as they had described it, at the same hour, in the same shape, every word of theirs proved exact, the apparition came.

I knew your father;

These hands are not more like.

I knew your father; these two hands are not more alike than that figure was to him.

Hamlet

But where was this?

Marcellus

My lord, upon the platform where we watch.

My lord, on the platform where we stand guard.

Hamlet

Did you not speak to it?

Didn't you speak to it?

Horatio

My lord, I did;

But answer made it none:

I did, my lord, but it gave no answer.

yet once methought

It lifted up it head, and did address

Itself to motion, like as it would speak.

Once, though, I thought it lifted its head and turned as if to speak.

But even then the morning cock crew loud,

And at the sound it shrunk in haste away,

And vanish’d from our sight.

But right then the morning rooster crowed loudly, and at the sound it shrank away in a hurry and vanished from our sight.

Hamlet

’Tis very strange.

That's very strange.

Horatio

As I do live, my honour’d lord, ’tis true;

And we did think it writ down in our duty

To let you know of it.

As I live, my honored lord, it's true, and we thought it was our clear duty to let you know about it.

Hamlet

Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me.

Yes, yes, gentlemen — but this disturbs me.

Hold you the watch tonight?

Are you on watch tonight?

MARCELLUS and BARNARDO.

We do, my lord.

MARCELLUS and BARNARDO: We are, my lord.

Hamlet

Arm’d, say you?

Armed, you say?

Both.

Arm’d, my lord.

BOTH: Armed, my lord.

Hamlet

From top to toe?

From head to foot?

Both

My lord, from head to foot.

Hamlet

Then saw you not his face?

So you didn't see his face?

Horatio

O yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up.

Oh yes, my lord — he had his visor raised.

Hamlet

What, look’d he frowningly?

What, did he look angry?

Horatio

A countenance more in sorrow than in anger.

An expression more sorrowful than angry.

Hamlet

Pale, or red?

Pale, or flushed?

Horatio

Nay, very pale.

No, very pale.

Hamlet

And fix’d his eyes upon you?

And he kept his eyes fixed on you?

Horatio

Most constantly.

The whole time.

Hamlet

I would I had been there.

I wish I'd been there.

Horatio

It would have much amaz’d you.

It would have shocked you badly.

Hamlet

Very like, very like.

Very likely, very likely.

Stay’d it long?

Did it stay long?

Horatio

While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred.

About as long as it takes to count to a hundred at a moderate pace.

MARCELLUS and BARNARDO.

Longer, longer.

MARCELLUS and BARNARDO: Longer, longer.

Horatio

Not when I saw’t.

Not while I was watching.

Hamlet

His beard was grizzled, no?

His beard was grey-streaked, wasn't it?

Horatio

It was, as I have seen it in his life,

A sable silver’d.

It was, just as I saw it in his lifetime — black shot through with silver.

Hamlet

I will watch tonight;

I'll stand watch tonight.

Perchance ’twill walk again.

Maybe it will walk again.

Horatio

I warrant you it will.

I guarantee you it will.

Hamlet

If it assume my noble father’s person,

I’ll speak to it, though hell itself should gape

And bid me hold my peace.

If it takes on my noble father's shape, I'll speak to it, even if hell itself opens up and orders me to keep quiet.

I pray you all,

If you have hitherto conceal’d this sight,

Let it be tenable in your silence still;

I ask all of you: if you've kept this sight secret so far, go on holding it in your silence.

And whatsoever else shall hap tonight,

Give it an understanding, but no tongue.

And whatever else happens tonight, take note of it, but say nothing.

I will requite your loves.

I'll repay your loyalty.

So, fare ye well.

So, goodbye.

Upon the platform ’twixt eleven and twelve,

I’ll visit you.

I'll come to you on the platform between eleven and twelve.

All

Our duty to your honour.

Our duty to your honor.

Hamlet

Your loves, as mine to you: farewell.

Your friendship, as mine is to you. Goodbye.

Exeunt Horatio, Marcellus and Barnardo.

Hamlet

My father’s spirit in arms!

My father's spirit — in armor!

All is not well;

Something is wrong.

I doubt some foul play:

I suspect there's been some vile crime.

would the night were come!

I wish the night would come!

Till then sit still, my soul:

Until then be patient, my soul.

foul deeds will rise,

Though all the earth o’erwhelm them, to men’s eyes.

Foul deeds will surface where men can see them, even if the whole earth is piled on top of them.

Exit.

Hamlet Act 1, Scene 2 summary

Who appears in this scene

King, Hamlet, Queen, Laertes, Polonius, Horatio, Marcellus, Both, All — Elsinore. A room of state in the Castle.

Famous lines in Hamlet Act 1, Scene 2, explained

“A little more than kin, and less than kind.” (line 67): Hamlet's first words in the play, muttered aside after Claudius calls him "my cousin Hamlet, and my son." He puns twice: he is now more than a nephew because his uncle married his mother, and "kind" means both affectionate and of the same nature — so he is neither fond of Claudius nor made of the same stuff. It sets the pattern for the whole play: Hamlet's wit is a weapon he uses sideways, in words the person addressed is not quite meant to catch.
“O that this too too solid flesh would melt, / Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!” (line 132): Hamlet's first soliloquy opens with a wish to simply dissolve — not to be killed, but to stop existing as a body. He immediately explains why he doesn't act on it: God has forbidden suicide, so he is trapped in a life he no longer wants. The lines establish Hamlet's central condition long before the ghost gives him a mission — he is already exhausted by the world, and grief has curdled into disgust.
“How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable / Seem to me all the uses of this world!” (line 136): Four flat adjectives in a row, and each one drains a little more color out of existence: the world isn't cruel to Hamlet, it's tedious. This is one of literature's earliest precise descriptions of depression as loss of appetite for life rather than active pain. The image that follows — an untended garden gone to seed and overrun by weeds — is what Denmark itself has become under Claudius.
“Frailty, thy name is woman!” (line 149): Hamlet generalizes from one woman — his mother, who remarried in under two months — to all women, which is exactly the leap the play will make him pay for when he turns the same contempt on Ophelia. It matters that the accusation is unearned: Gertrude's hasty marriage is disloyal, but Hamlet converts it into a theory about female nature itself. The line is quoted as if it were wisdom; in context it is a grieving young man's misogyny, and Shakespeare shows us where it leads.
“He was a man, take him for all in all, / I shall not look upon his like again.” (line 194): Hamlet's summary of his father is deliberately modest — not a god, not a hero, just a man, weighed up whole with faults included — and that restraint is what makes it moving. After the extravagant grief of the soliloquy, he arrives at a simple statement of irreplaceable loss. It is the plainest thing Hamlet says in the scene, and probably the truest.

Keep reading

About this translation: the original text follows the public-domain Project Gutenberg Globe edition; the modern English translation was written in-house for Polytranslator and is reviewed on an ongoing basis (last revised August 2026). Free to print and photocopy for classroom use. Cite as: “Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 2. Polytranslator side-by-side translation, polytranslator.com/shakespeare/hamlet/act-1-scene-2.”

Studying the language itself? Our Shakespearean English course teaches thou/thee, the verbs, and the meter — free through Unit 2. Or try the Shakespearean English translator.