« AnteriorContinua »
Each small annexment, petty consequence,
King. Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage;
We will haste us.
Pol. My lord, he's going to his mother's closet;
“Thanks, dear my lord.
Were thicker than itself with brother's blood ?
[Retires, and kneels.
Ham. Now might I do it, pat, now he is praying ; And now I'll do't;— And so he goes to heaven: And so am I reveng'd? That would be scann'd: A villain kills my father; and, for that, I, his sole son, do this same villain send To heaven. Why, this is hire and salary, not revenge. He took my father grossly, full of bread; With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May; And, how his audit stands, who knows, save heaven? But, in our circumstance and course of thought, 'Tis heavy with him: And am I then reveng'd, To take him in the purging of his soul, When he is fit and season'd for his passage? No. Up, sword; and know thou a most horrid hent $1, When he is drunk, asleep, or in his rage; Or in the incestuous pleasures of his bed; At gaming, swearing; or about some act That has no relish of salvation in't: Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven; And that his soul may be as damn'd, and black, As hell, wliereto it goes 82. My mother stays: This physick but prolongs thy sickly days. [Exit.
The King rises, and advances. King. My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: Words, without thoughts, never to heaven go. (Exit.
Enter Queen and POLONIƯS.
I'll warrant you;
[Polonius hides himself.
Ham. Now, mother; what's the matter?
What's the matter now?
No, by the rood, not so:
You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife;
not budge; You go not, till I set you up a glass Where
you may see the inmost part of you, Queen. What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder
me? Help, help, ho!
Pol. (Behind.) What, ho! help!
How now! a rat?
[Draws. Dead, for a ducat, dead.
[Hanlet makes a pass through the arras. Pol. [Behind.] O, I am slain.
[Falls, and dies. Queen. O me, what hast thou done? Ham.
Nay, I know not: Is it the king?
[Lifts up the arras, and draws forth Polonius, Queen. O, what a rash and bloody deed is this !
Ham. A bloody deed;-almost as bad, good mother,
Queen. As kill a king!
*Ay, lady, 'twas my word. Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell!