Imatges de pàgina

I prethee, when thou seest that A& a-foot,
Even with the very comment of thy Soul
Observe mine Uncle: If his occulted guilt
Do not it self unkennel in one Speech,
It is a damned Ghost that we have feen:
And my Imaginations are as foul
As Vulcan's Seyth. 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 seeming.

Hor. Well, my Lord.
If he steal ought the whilst this Play is playing,
And scape dete&ing, I will pay the Theft.
Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Roseneraus, Guilden-

stern, 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 Cousin Hamlet? Ham. Excellent i'faith, of the Camelion's Dish : I eat the Air, promise-cramm'd, you cannot feed Capons so.

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

Ham. No, nor mine, now, my Lord. You plaid once i'th' University, 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 enad 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?

Ros. Ay, my Lord, they stay upon your patience,
Queen. Come hither, my good Hamlet, fit by me.
Ham. No, good Mother, here's Mettle more attrađive.
Pol. Oh ho, do you mark that?
Ham. Lady, shallIlye in your Laps [Lying down at O-
Oph. No, my Lord.

phelia's Feet.
Ham. I mean, my Head upon your Lap?
Oph. Ay, my Lord.
Ham. Do you think I meant Country Matters?

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, 'ris 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 must build Churches then ; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with the Hobby-horse; whose Epitaph is, for o, for o, the Hobby-horse is forgot.

Hanțboys p'ay. The dumb Shew enters. Enter a King and Queen, very lovingly; the Queen embracing

him. She kneels; and makes Mew of Protestation unto him. He takes ber up, and declines his Head


her Neck. Lays him down upon a Bank of Flowers. She seeing him afleep, leaves him.' Anon comes in a Fellow, takes of bis Crown, kisses it, and pours Poison in the King's Ears, and Exits. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, and makes passionate Aétion. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes come in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead Body is carried away: The Poisoner woes the Queen with Gifts, she seems loth and unwilling a while, but in the end accepis his Love.

[Exeunt. Oph. What means this, my Lord ? Ham. Marry this is Miching Malicho, that means Mischief. Oph. Belike this Shew imports the Argument of the Play?

Ham. We shall know by these 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 shew him. Bę not you afham'd to shew, he'll not shame to tell you what it means. Oph. You are naught, you are naugh", I'll mark the Play.


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Enter Prologue.
For us, and for our Tragedy,
Here stooping to your Clemency ;

We beg your hearing patiently.
Ham. Is this a Prologue, or the Posie of a Ring?
Opb. 'Tis brief, my Lord.
Ham. As Woman's love.

Enter King and Queen.
King. Full thirty times bath Phæbus Car gon round
Neptune's sale Wash, and Tellus Orbed Ground:
And thirty dozen Moons with borrowed sheen,
About the World have time, twelve thirties been,
Since Love our Hearts, and Hymen did our Hands
Unite commutual, in most sacred Bands.

Queen. So many Journeys may the Sun and Moon
Make us again count o'er, e'er love be done.
But woe is me, you are so sick of late,
So far from Cheer, and from your former State,
That I disturst you ; yet though I distrust,
Discomfort you, my Lord, it nothing muft.
For Womens Fear and Love, hold quantity,
In neither ought, or in extremity;
Now what my Love is, proof hath made you know,
And as my Love is fix'd, my Fear is fo.

King. Faith I must leave thee, Love, and shortly too;
My operant Powers my Functions leave to do,
And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
Honour'd, belov’d, and haply, one as kind
For Husband shalt thou

Queen. Oh confound the rest !
Such Love must needs be Treason in my Breast :
In second Husband let me be accurst,
None wed the second, but who kill'd the first.

Ham. Wormwood, Wormwood.

Queen. The instances that second Marriage move,
Are base respects of Thrift, but none of Love.
A second time, I kill my Husband dead,
When second Husband kiffes me in Bed.

King. I do believe you. Think what now you speak;
But what we do determine, oft we break :
Purpose is but the Slave to Memory,

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Of violent Birth, but poor validity :
Which now like Fruit unripe sticks on the Tree,
But fall unsh ken, when they mellow be.
Most necessary 'tis that we forget
To pay our selves, what to our felves is Delt :
What to our selves in Passion we propose,
The Passion ending, doth the purpose lose
The Violence of either Grief or Joy,
Their own ena&ors with themselves destroy :
Where Joy most revels, Grief doth moft lament ;
Gref joys, Joy grieves on flender accident.
This World is not for aye, nor 'eis not strange
That even our Loves should with our Fortunes change.
For 'is a Question left us yet to prove,
Whether Love lead Fortune, or else Fortune Love.
The great Man down, you mark his favourite flies,
The poor advanc'd makes Friends of Enemies :
And hitherto doth Love on Fortune tend,
For who not needs, shall never lack a Friend ;
And who in Want a hollow Friend doth try,
Dire&ly seasons him his Enemy.
But orderly to end where I begun,
Our Wills and Fates do so contrary run,
That our Devices still are overthrown,
Our Thoughts are ours, their Ends none of our own.
So think thou wilt no second Husband wed,
But die thy Thoughts, when thy first Lord is dead.

Queer. Nor Earth to give me Food, nor Heav'n Light,
Sport and repose lock from me Day and Night;
Each opposite that blanks the Face of Joy,
Meer what I would have well, and it destroy,
But here, and hence, pursue me lasting Strife,
If once a Widow, ever I be Wife.

Ham. If she should break it now.

King. 'Tis deeply sworn ; sweet, leave me here a while, My Spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile The tedious Day with sleep. Queen. Sleep rock thy Brain,

[Sleeps. And never come mischance between us twain. | Exit, ; Ham. Madam, how like you the Play ?


you ard

Loye ;

Queen. The Lady protests too much, methinks.
Ham. Oh but she'll keep her word.

King. Have you heard the Argument, is there no Offence in't ?

Ham. No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest, no Of. fence i'th' World.

King. What do you call the Play?

Ham. The Mouse-trap; Marry how? Tropically. This Play is the Image of a Murther done in Vienna ; Gonzago is the Duke's Name, his Wife Baptista ; you shall see anon, 'tis a Knavish piece of Work; but what o' that? Your Majesty, and we that have free Souls, it touches us not ; let the galld Jade winch, our withers are unwrung.

Enter Lucianus.
This is one Lucianus, Nephew to the King.

Oph. You are a good Chorus, my Lord.

Ham. I could interpret between you your If I could see the Puppets dallying.

Oph. You are keen, my Lord, you are keen.

Ham. It would cost you a groaning, to take off my Edge.

Oph. Still worse and worse.

Ham. So you mistake Husbands.
Begin Murther. Pox, leave thy damnable Faces, and begin.'
Come, the croaking Raven doth bellow for Revenge.
Luc. Thoughts black, Hands apt, Drugs fit, and Time

Confederate Season, elle no Creature seeing :
Thou Mixture rank, of Midnight-Weeds collected,
With Hecate's Bane, thrice blasted, thrice infected,
The natural Magick, and dire property,
On wholsome Life, usurp immediately.

[Pours the Poison in his Ears. Ham. He poysons him i'th' Garden for's Estate ; his Name's Gonzago ; the Story is extant, and writ in choice Italian. You shall see anon how the Murtherer gets the Love of Gonzago's Wife.

Oph. The King rises.
Ham. What, frighted with false Fire ?
Queen. How fares my Lord ?


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