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A combination, and a form, indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal,
To give the world assurance of a man:
This was your husband.--Look you now, what

follows:
Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear,
Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes?
Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed,
And batten* on this moor? Ha! have you eyes?
You cannot call it, love; for, at your age,
The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble,
And waits upon the judgment: And what judgment
Would step from this to this? Senset, sure you have,
Else, could you not have motion: But, sure, that
Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err; [sense
Nor sense to ecstasy# was ne'er so thralld,
But it reserv'd some quantity of choice,
To serve in such a difference. What devil was't,
That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman blind?
Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight,
Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans|| all,
Or but a sickly part of one true sense
Could not so mope T.
O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell,
If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones,
To flaming youth let virtue be as wax,
And melt in her own fire: Proclaim no shame,
When the compulsive ardour gives the charge;
Since frost itself as actively doth burn,
And reason panders will.
Queen.

O Hamlet, speak no more: Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very * To grow fat.

+ Sensation Frenzy. & Blindman's-buff. # Without Be so stupid.

soul;

And there I see such black and grained spots,
As will not leave their tinct*.

Enter GHOST.
Ham. Save me, and hover o'er me with your

wings, You heavenly guards!—What would your gracious Queen. Alas, he's mad.

[figure?
Ham. Do you not come your tardy son to chide,
That, laps'd in time and passion, lets go by
The important acting of your dread command?
O, say!

Ghost. Do not forget: This visitation
Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose.
But, look! amazement on thy mother sits :
O, step between her and her fighting soul;
Conceitt in weakest bodies strongest works;
Speak to her, Hamlet.
Ham.

How is it with you, lady? Queen. Alas, how is't with you? That you do bend

your eye on vacancy, And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep; And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look? Ham. On him! On him!-Look you, how pale

he glares! His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, Would make them capableg. Do not look upon me; # Colour.

Imagination. # The hair of animals is excrementitious, that is, without life or sensation.

$ Intelligent.

Lest, with this piteous action, you convert
My stern effects*: then what I have to do
Will want true colour; tears, perchancet, for blood.

Queen. To whom do you speak this?
Ham.

Do you see nothing there?
Queen. Nothing at all: yet all, that is, I see.
Ham. Nor did you nothing hear?
Queen.

No, nothing, but ourselves. Ham. Why, look you there! look, how it steals My father, in his habit as he liv'd! [away! Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal!

Exit Ghost. Queen. This is the very coinage of your brain: : This bodiless creation ecstasyt Is very cunning in. Ham.

Ecstasy! My pulse, as your's, doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music: It is not madness, That I have utter'd: bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word: which madness Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, Lay not that flattering unction to your soul, That not your trespass, but my madness speaks: It will but skin and film the ulcerous place; Whiles rank corruption, mining all within, Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven; Repent what's past; avoid what is to come; And do not spread the composts on the weeds, To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue: For in the fatness of these pursy times, Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg; Yea, curbs) and woo, for leave to do him good.

* Actions. S Manure.

+ Perhaps.

* Frenzy. || Bend

Queen. O Hamlet! thou hast cleft my heart in

Ham. O, throw away the worser part of it, (twain. And live the purer with the other half. Good night, but go not to my uncle's bed; Assume a virtue if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat Of habit's devil, is angel yet in this; That to the use of actions fair and good He likewise gives a frock, or livery, That aptly is put on: Refrain to-night; And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence: the next more easy: For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either curb the devil, or throw him out With wondrous potency. Once more, good night! And when you are desirous to be bless'd, I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord,

[Pointing to POLONIUS. I do repent: But heaven bath pleas'd it so,To punish me with this, and this with me, That I must be their scourge and minister. I will bestow him, and will answer well The death I gave him. So, again, good night! I must be cruel, only to be kind: Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.But one word more, good lady. Queen.

What shall I do? Ham. Not this, by no means, that I bid you

do: Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed; Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse*; And let him, for a pair of reechyt kisses, Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers, Make you to ravel all this matter out, That I essentially am not in madness, * A term of endearment.

+ Steaming with heat.

But mad in craft. 'Twere good, you let him know :
For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise,
Would from a paddock*, from a bat, a gibt,
Such dear concernings hide? Who would do so?
No, in despite of sense and secresy,
Unpeg the basket on the house's top,
Let the birds fly; and, like the famous ape,
To try conclusions, in the basket creep,
And break your own neck down.
Queen. Be thou assur’d, if words be made of

breath,
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe
What thou hast said to me.

Ham. I must to England: you know that ?
Qaeen.

Alack,
I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on. [fellows,—

Ham. There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolWhom I will trust, as I will adders fang’ds, They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way, And marshal me to knavery: Let it work ; For 'tis the sport, to have the engineer Hoist with his own petar||: and it shall go

hard, But I will delve one yard below their mines, And blow them at the moon.

ACT IV.

HAMLET'S IRRESOLUTION.
How all occasions do inform against me,
And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,
If his chief good, and market of his time,
Be but to sleep, and feed? a beast, no more.
* Toad. + Cat. Experiments.

& Having their teeth. !! Blown up with his own bomb. | Profit.

z 3

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