Hamlet, Act 4, Scene 1

There’s matter in these sighs. These profound heaves You must translate; ’tis fit we understand them. Where is your son?

There's something behind these sighs. You must put these deep heavings of your chest into words; it's right that we understand them. Where is your son?

Bestow this place on us a little while.

Leave this room to us for a little while.

Ah, my good lord, what have I seen tonight!

Ah, my good lord, what I have seen tonight!

What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?

What, Gertrude? How is Hamlet?

Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend Which is the mightier. In his lawless fit Behind the arras hearing something stir, Whips out his rapier, cries ‘A rat, a rat!’ And in this brainish apprehension kills The unseen good old man.

Mad as the sea and the wind when the two of them fight over which is stronger. In his wild fit, hearing something move behind the tapestry, he pulls out his sword, shouts 'A rat, a rat!' and in that crazed belief kills the good old man he could not see.

O heavy deed! It had been so with us, had we been there. His liberty is full of threats to all; To you yourself, to us, to everyone. Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer’d? It will be laid to us, whose providence Should have kept short, restrain’d, and out of haunt This mad young man. But so much was our love We would not understand what was most fit, But like the owner of a foul disease, To keep it from divulging, let it feed Even on the pith of life. Where is he gone?

Oh, what a terrible act! It would have happened to me if I had been there. His being free is a danger to everyone—to you yourself, to me, to every person. Oh, how will this bloody act be accounted for? It will be blamed on me, since my foresight should have kept this mad young man on a short leash, confined, and away from other people. But my love for him was so great that I would not face what was most sensible; instead, like the owner of a disgusting disease, I kept it from being known and let it eat into the very core of life. Where has he gone?

To draw apart the body he hath kill’d, O’er whom his very madness, like some ore Among a mineral of metals base, Shows itself pure. He weeps for what is done.

To drag away the body he has killed. Over that body even his madness shows itself pure, like a vein of gold in a mine of cheap metals. He is weeping for what he has done.

O Gertrude, come away! The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch But we will ship him hence, and this vile deed We must with all our majesty and skill Both countenance and excuse.—Ho, Guildenstern!

Oh Gertrude, come away! As soon as the sun touches the mountains we will put him on a ship out of here, and this vile act we must both approve of and excuse with all our royal authority and cleverness.—Hello, Guildenstern!

Friends both, go join you with some further aid: Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, And from his mother’s closet hath he dragg’d him. Go seek him out, speak fair, and bring the body Into the chapel. I pray you haste in this.

Both of you, my friends, go and get some extra help: Hamlet in his madness has killed Polonius, and he has dragged him out of his mother's private room. Go find him, speak to him gently, and bring the body into the chapel. Please hurry with this.

Come, Gertrude, we’ll call up our wisest friends, And let them know both what we mean to do And what’s untimely done, so haply slander, Whose whisper o’er the world’s diameter, As level as the cannon to his blank, Transports his poison’d shot, may miss our name, And hit the woundless air. O, come away! My soul is full of discord and dismay.

Come, Gertrude, we'll wake our wisest friends and let them know both what we intend to do and what has been done too soon. That way, with luck, slander—whose whisper carries its poisoned shot right across the width of the world, as straight as a cannon aimed at its target—may miss our name and strike only the air, which cannot be wounded. Oh, come away! My soul is full of turmoil and fear.