Nunnery, go.

To a

God's Creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance.
Go, I'll no more on't, it hath made me mad. I fay, we will
have no more Marriages. Those that are married already,
all but one shall live, the reft fhall keep as they are.
[Exit Hamlet.
Oph. O what a noble Mind is here o'er-thrown!
The Courtiers, Soldiers, Scholars! Eye, Tongue, Sword,
Th' expectancy and Rofe of the fair State,
The glafs of Fashion, and the mould of Form,
Th' obferv'd of all obfervers, quite, quite down.
I am of Ladies moft deject and wretched,
That fuck'd the Hony of his Mufick Vows:
Now fee that Noble and moft Sovereign Reason,
Like fweet Bells jangled out of Tune, and harsh ;
That unmatch'd Form and Feature of blown Youth,
Blafted with Extafie. Oh woe is me!

T'have feen what I have feen; fee what I fee.
Enter King and Polonius.

King. Love! his Affections do not that way tend,
Nor what he fpake, tho' it lack'd Form a little,
Was not like Madnefs. There's fomething in his Soul,
O'er which his Melancholy fits 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 fet it down. He fhall with speed to England
For the demand of our neglected Tribute:
Haply the Seas and Countries different,
With variable Objects, fhall expel

This fomething fettled matter in his Heart;
Whereon his Brains ftill beating, puts him thus
From fashion of himself. What think you on't?
Pol. It fhall 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 faid,
We heard it all. My Lord, do as you please,
But if you hold it fit after the Play,
Let his Queen Mother all alone intreat him
To fhew his Griefs; let her be round with him:
And I'll be plac'd, fo please you, in the Ear

Of

Of all their Conference. If the find him not,
To England fend him; or confine him where
Your wifdom beft fhall think.

King. It fhall 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 many of our Players do, I had as lieve the Town-Crier had fpoke my Lines: Nor do not faw the Air too much with your Hand thus, but ufe all gently; for in the very Torrent, Tempeft, and, as I may fay, the whirl-wind of Paffion, you muft acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothnefs. O it offends me to the Soul, to fee a robustous Perriwig-pated Fellow, tear a Paffion 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 Noife I could have fuch 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 Action to the Word, the Word to the Action; with this fpecial obfervance; that you o'er-ftop not the Modefty of Nature; for any thing fo over done, is from the purpofe of Playing, whofe end both at the firft and now, was and is, to hold as 'twere the Mirror up to nature; to fhew Virtue her own Feature, Scorn her own Image, and the very Age and Body of the time, his Form and Preffure. 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, muft in your Allowance o'er-fway a whole Theatre of others. Oh, there be Players that I have feen Play, and heard others praife, and that highly, (not to speak it prophanely) that neither having the ac cent of Chriftians, nor the gate of Chriftian, Pagan, or Norman, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought fome 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 thofe that play your Clowns, fpeak no more than is fet down for them. For

there be of them, that will of themselves laugh, to set on fome quantity of barren Spectators to laugh too, though in the mean time, fome neceflary queftion of the Play be then to be confidered; that's Villanous, and fhews a moft pitiful Ambition in the Fool that ufes it. Go make you ready. [Exeunt Players.

Enter Polonius, Rofeneraus, and Guildenftern.

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 hafte.

Will you two help to haften them?

Both. We will, my Lord.

Enter Horatio.

Ham. What ho, Horatio?

Hor. Here, fweet Lord, at your Service.
Ham. Horatio, thou art e'en as juft a Man
As e'er my Conversation coap'd withal.
Hor. O my dear Lord--

Ham. Nay, do not think I flatter;

Exit Polonius.

[Exeunt.

For what Advancement may I hope from thee,
That no Revenue haft, but thy good Spirits

To feed and cloath thee. Why fhould the poor be flatter'd?
No, let the candied Tongue lick abfurd Pomp,

And crook the pregnant Hinges of the Knee,

Where thrift may follow feigning. Doft thou hear?
Since my dear Soul was Miftrefs of her Choice,
And could of Men distinguish, her Election
Hath feal'd thee for her felf. For thou haft been
As one in fuffering all, that fuffers nothing.
A Man that Fortune's buffets and rewards
Hath ta'en with equal Thanks. And bleft are thofe,
Whof Blood and Judgment are fo well co-mingled,
That they are not a Pipe for Fortune's Finger,
To found what ftop the please. Give me that Man,
That is not Paffion'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 Circumftance
Which I have told thee, of my Father's Death.

I prethee, when thou feeft that A& a-foot,
Even with the very Comment of thy Soul
Obferve mine Uncle: If his occulted guilt
Do not it felf unkennel in one Speech,
It is a damned Ghoft that we have feen:
And my Imaginations are as foul

As Vulcan's Styth. Give him heedful note,
For I mine Eyes will rivet to his Face,
And after we will both our Judgments join,
To cenfure of his feeming.

Hor. Well, my Lord.

If he fteal ought the whilft this Play is playing,
And fcape detecting, I will pay the Theft.

Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofeneraus, Guildenftern, and other Lords Attendant, with his Guard carrying Torches. Danish March. Sound a Flourish.

Ham. They are coming to the Play; I must be idle. Get you a Place.

King. How fares my Coufin Hamlet?

Ham. Excellent i'faith, of the Camelion's Dish: I eat the Air, promife-cramm'd, you cannot feed Capons fo.

King. I have nothing with this Anfwer, Hamlet, these Words are not mine.

Ham. No, nor mine, now, my Lord. You plaid once i'th' Univerfity, you say? [To Polonius. Pol. That I did, my Lord, and was accounted a good Actor.

Ham. And what did you enact?

Pol. I did enact Julius Cefar, I was kill'd i'th' Capitol : Brutus kill'd me.

Ham, It was a brute part of him, to kill fo Capital a Calf there. Be the Players ready?

Rof. Ay, my Lord, they ftay upon your patience. Queen. Come hither, my good Hamlet, fit by me. Ham. No, good Mother, here's Mettle more attractive. Pol. Oh ho, do you mark that?

Ham. Lady, fhall I lye in your Lap?

Oph. No, my Lord.

[Lying down at O

Ham. I mean, my Head upon your Lap?

Oph. Ay, my Lord.

phelia's Feet.

Ham. Do you think I meant Country Matters?

Z4

Oph.

Oph. I think nothing, my Lord.

Ham. That's a fair thought to lye between a Maid's Legs, Oph. What is, my Lord?

Ham. Nothing.

Oph. You are merry, my Lord,
Ham. Who I?

Oph. Ay, my Lord.

Ham. Oh God, your only Jig-maker; what should a Man do, but be merry, For look you how chearfully my Mother looks, and my Father dy'd within's two hours.

Oph. Nay, 'tis twice two Months, my Lord.

Ham. So long? Nay then let the Devil wear black, for I'll have a Suit of Sables. Oh Heav'ns! dye two Months ago, and not forgotten yet? then there's hope, a great Man's Memory may out-live his Life half a Year: But by'r-lady he muft build Churches then; or elfe fhall he fuffer not thinking on, with the Hobby-horfe; whofe Epitaph is, for o, for o, the Hobby-horfe is forgot.

Hautboys play. The dumb Shew enters.

Enter a King and Queen, very lovingly; the Queen embracing him. She kneels; and makes fhew of Proteftation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his Head upon her Neck. Lays him down upon a Bank of Flowers. She feeing him afleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a Fellow, takes off his Crown, kiffes it, and pours Poifon in the King's Ears, and Exits. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, and makes passionate Action The Poifoner, with fome two or three Mutes come in again, feeming to lament with her. The dead Body is carried away: The Poifoner woes the Queen with Gifts, fhe feems loth and unwilling a while, but in the end accepts his Love.

[Exeunt.

Oph. What means this, my Lord? Ham. Marry this is Miching Malicko, that means Mifchief. Oph. Belike this Shew imports the Argument of the Play? Ham. We fhall know by thefe Fellows: The Players cannot keep counsel, they'll tell all.

Oph. Will they tell us what this Shew meant?

Ham. Ay, or any Shew that you'll fhew him. Be not you afham'd to fhew, he'll not fhame to tell you what it means. Oph. You are naught, you are naugh', I'll mark the Play.

Enter