Imatges de pÓgina
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Devoutly to be wishid. To die to Sleep-
To Sleep, perchance to Dreama; ay, there's the rubo....
For in that sleep of Death, what Dreams may come,
When we have fhuffled off this mortal Coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respe&
That makes Calamity of so long Life:
For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of Time,
The Oppreffors wrong, the poor Man's Contumely,
The pangs of despis'd Love, the Laws delay,
The insolence of Office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the Unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would Fardles bear
To grunt and sweat under a weary Life,
But that the dread of something after Death,
The undiscover'd Country, from whose Born
No Traveller returns, puzzles the Will,
And makes us rather bear those Ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all,
And thus the native Hue of Resolution
Is ficklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought;
And Enterprizes of great Pith and Moment,
With this regard their Currents turn away,
And lose the name of A&ion. Soft you now, (Secing Oph.
The fair Ophelia ? Nymph, in thy Oraisons
Be all my Sins remembred.

Oph. Good my Lord,
How does your Honour for this many a Day?

Ham. I humbly thank you; well, well, well

Oph. My Lord, I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longed long to re-deliver.
I pray you now receive them.

Ham. No, no, I never gave you ought.

Oph. My honour'd Lord, I know right well you did,
And with them Words of so sweet Breath compos'd,
As made the things more Rich : That perfume loft,
Take these again; for to the noble Mind
Rich Gifts wax poor, when Givers prove

unkind.
There, my Lord.
Ham. Ha, ha! are you honeft?

Oph.

you not.

Oph. My Lord. Ham. Are you fair? Oph. What means your Lordship? Ham. That if you be honest and fair, your Honesty should admit no Discourse to your Beauty.

Oph. Could Beauty, my Lord, have better Commerce than with Honesty?

Ham. Ay truly; for the power of Beauty, will sooner transform Honesty from what it is, to a Bawd, than the force of Honesty can translate Beauty into his likeness. This was sometimes a Paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.

Oph. Indeed, my Lord, you made me believe so.

Ham. You should not have believed me. For Virtue cana not so inoculate our old Stock, but we shall relish of it. I loved

Oph. I was the inore deceived.

Ham. Get thee to a Nunnery. Why wouldst thou be a breeder of Sinners? I am my self indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better my Mother had not born me. I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more Offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in Imagination, to give them shape, or time to ad them in. What should fuch Fellows as I do crawling between Heaven and Earth. We are arranc Knaves all, believe none of usGo thy ways to a Nunnery Where's your Father?

Oph. At home, my Lord.

Ham. Let the Doors be shut upon him, that he may play the Fool no where but in's own House. Farewel.

Oph. O help him, you sweet Heav'ns.

Ham. If thou doft Marry, I'll give thee this Plague for thy Dowry. Be thou as chaste as Ice, as pure as Snow, thou Thalt not escape Calumny--.-Gte thee to a Nunnery, GO--farewel----Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise Men know well enough, what Monsters you make of them.---To a Nunnery go-and quickly too.

Farewel. Oph. O heav'nly Powers! restore him.

Ham. I have heard of your pratling too well enough. God has given you one pace, and you make your felf another - You jig, you amble, and you lisp, and Nick-name

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, Prince of Denmark. God's Creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go, I'll no more on't, it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more Marriages. Those that are married already, all but one shall live, the rest shall keep as they are.. To a Nunnery, go.

[Exit Hamlet.
Oph. o what a noble Mind is here o'er-thrown!
The Courtiers, Soldiers, Scholars ! Eye, Tongue, Sword,
Th’expectancy and Rose of the fair State,
The glass of Fashion, and the mould of Form,
Th'observ'd of all observers, quite, quite down:
I am of Ladies most deject and wretched,
That suck'd the Hony of his Musick Vows:
Now see that Noble and most Sovereign Reason,
Like sweet Bills jangled out of Tune, and harsh 3
That unmatch'd Form and Feature of blown Youth,
Blasted with Extafie. Oh woe is me!
T'have seen what I have seen ; see what I see.

Enter King and Polonius.
King. Love! his Affections do not that way tend,
Nor what he spake, tho' it lack'd Form a little,
Was not like Madness. There's something in his Soul,
O'er which his Melancholy sits on brood,
And I do doubt the hatch, and the disclose
Will be fome Danger, which how to prevent,
I have in quick Determination
Thus set it down. He shall with speed to England
For the demand of our negle&ed Tribute:
Haply the Seas and Countries different,
With variable Obje&s, shall expel
This something settled matter in his Heart ;
Whereon his Brains still beating, puts him thus
From fashion of himself. What think you on't ?

Pol. It shall do well. But yet do I believe
The Origin and Commencement of this Grief
Sprung from neglected Love. How now, Ophelia ?
You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said,
We heard it all. My Lord, do as you please,
But if you hold it fit after the Play,
Let his Q teen Mother all alone intreat him
To fhew his Griefs ; let her be round with him:
And I'll be plac'd, so please you, in the Ear

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of all their Conference. If she find him not, To England send him; or confine him where Your wisdom best shall think.

King. It shall be fo: Madness in great Ones must not unwatch'd go. [Exeunt.

Enter Hamlet, and two or three of the Players. Ham. Speak the Speech I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you trippingly on the Tongue. But if you mouth it, as maпу of our Players do, I had as lieve the Town-Crier had spoke my Lines : Nor do not saw the Air too much with your Hand thus, but use all gently; for in the very Torrent, Tempeft, and, as I may say, the whirl-wind of Passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it Imoothness. O it offends me to the Soul, to see a robuftous Perriwig-pated Fellow, tear a Passion to Tatters, to very Rags, to split the Ears of the Groundlings: Who (for the most part) are capable of nothing, but inexplicable dumb Shews, and Noise : I could have such a Fellow whipt for o'er doing Termagant ; it out-Herods Herod. Pray you avoid it,

Play. I warrant your Honour.

Ham. Be not too tame neither ; but let your own Discre. tion be your Tutor. Sute the Axion to the Word, the Word to the A&ion; with this special observance; that you o'er-stop not the Modesty of Nature; for any thing so over, done, is from the purpose of Playing, whose end both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twere the Mirror up to nature ; to thew Virtue her own Feature, Scorn her own I, mage, and the very Age and Body of the time, his Form and Pressure. Now, this over-done, or come tardy off, tho' it make the Unskilful laugh, cannot but make the Judicious grieve: The cenfure of which one, must in your Allowance o'er-sway a whole Theatre of others. Oh, there be Players that I have seen Play, and heard others praise, and that highly, (not to speak it prophanely) that neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gate of Christian, Pagan, or Norman, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of Nature's Journey.men had made Men, and not made them well, they imitated Humanity fo abominably.

Play. I hope we have reform'd that indifferently with us, Sir.

Ham. O reform it altogether. And let those that play your Clowns, speak no more than is set down for them. 'For

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there be of them, that will of themselves laugh, to set ou some quantity of barren Spe&ators to laugh too, though in the mean time, fome necellary question of the Play be then to be considered ; that's Villanous, and thews a most pitiful Ambition in the Fool that uses it. Go make you ready.

[Exeunt Players. Enter Polonius, Roseneraus, and Guildenstern. How now, my Lord? Will the King hear this piece of Work?

Pol. And the Queen too, and that presently,

Ham. Bid the Players make haste. Exit Polonius. Will you two help to baften them? Both. We will, my Lord.

Excunt: Enter Horatio, Ham. What ho, Horatia? Hor. Here, sweet Lord, at your Service.

Ham. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a Man As e'er my Conversation coap'd withal.

Hor. O my dear Lord

Ham. Nay, do not think I flatter : For what Advancement may I hope from thee, That no Revenue haft, but thy good Spirits To feed and cloath thee. Why should the poor be flatter'd? No, let the candied Tongue lick absurd Pomp, And crook the pregnant Hinges of the Knee, Where thrift may follow feigning. Dost thou hear? Since my dear Soul was Mistress of her Choice, And could of Men distinguish, her Election Hath seal'd thee for her felf. For thou hast been As one in suffering all, that suffers nothing, A Man that Fortune's buffets and rewards Hath ta'en with equal Thanks. And bleft are those, Whof Blood and Judgment are so well co-mingled, Thar they are not a Pipe for Fortune's Finger, To found what stop the please. Give me that Man, That is not Passion's Slave, and I will wear him In my Heart's Core: Ay, in my Heart of Heart, As I do thee. Something too much of this. There is a Play to Night before the King, One Scene of it comes near the circumstance Which I have told shee, of my Father's Death.

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