65 70 75 80 Ham. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man Hor. O, my dear lord, Ham. Nay, do not think I flatter, No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, Whose blood and judgement are so well com- That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please. Give me that man That is not passion's slave, and I will wear In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, Hor. One scene of it comes near the circumstance As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note; 90 Well, my lord. 95 If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft. Ham. They are coming to the play; I must be idle. Get you a place. Danish march. A flourish. Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and other Lords attendant, with the guard carrying torches. King. How fares our cousin Hamlet? Ham. Excellent, i' faith,—of the chameleon's dish. I eat the air, promise-crammed. You can not feed capons so. King. I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words are not mine. Ham. No, nor mine now. [To Polonius.] My 100 10% 110 115 120 lord, you played once i' the university, you say? Pol. That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor. Ham. What did you enact? Pol. I did enact Julius Caesar. I was killed i' the Capitol; Brutus killed me. Ham. It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. Be the players ready? Ros. Ay, my lord, they stay upon your patience. Queen. Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. attractive. Ham. No, good mother, here's metal more [Lying down at Ophelia's feet. Pol. [To the King.] O, ho! do you mark that?... Oph. You are merry, my lord. Ham. Who, I? Oph. Ay, my lord. 125 Ham. O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do but be merry? For, look you, how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within 's two hours. Oph. Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord. 130 Ham. So long? Nay then, let the Devil wear 135 black, for I'll have a suit of sables. heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive 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." Hautboys play. The dumb-show enters. Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly, the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up and declines his head upon her neck; lays him down upon a bank of flowers; she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns, finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The poisoner woos the Queen with gifts; she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love. Oph. What means this, my lord? [Exeunt. Ham. Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief. Oph. Belike this show imports the argument of the play. Enter Prologue. Ham. We shall know by this fellow. The players can not keep counsel, they'll tell all. . . 140 145 Pro. For us, and for our tragedy, Here stooping to your clemency, We beg your hearing patiently. [Exit. Ham. Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? Oph. 'Tis brief, my lord. 150 Ham. As woman's love. 155 160 165 170 Enter two Players, King and Queen. P. King. Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground, P. Queen. So many journeys may the sun and moon So far from cheer and from your former state, Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know; And as my love is sized, my fear is so. Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great love grows there. P. King. 'Faith I must leave thee, love, and shortly too. My operant powers their functions leave to do; |