Imatges de pàgina

And he beseech'd me to intreat your Majesties
To hear and see the matter.

King. With all my heart, and it doth much content me
To hear him so inclin'd.
Good gentlemen, give him a further edge,
And drive his purpose on to these delights.
Ref. We shall, my Lord.

King. Sweet Gertrude, leave us too ;
For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,
That he, as 'twere by accident, may here
Affront Ophelia. Her father, and my self,
Will so bestow our selves, that seeing unseen
We may of their encounter frankly judge,
And gather by him, as he is behaved,
If't be th' affliction of his love, or no,
That thus he suffers for.

Queen. I shall obey you:
And for my part, Ophelia, I do wish
That your good beauties be the happy cause
Of Hamlet's wildness. So I hope your virtues
May bring him to his wonted way again,
To both your honours.
Opb. Madam, I wish it may.

[Exit Queen.
Pol. Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please ye,
We will bestow our felves: read on this book ;
That shew of such an exercise may colour
Your loneliness. We're oft to blame in this,
'Tis too much prov'd that with devotion's visage,
And pious action, we do sugar o'er
The devil himself.

King. "Oh it is but too true. How smart a lash that speech doch give my conscience!

Afide. The harlot's cheek beautied with plaistring art Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it, Than is my deed to my most painted word. Oh heavy burthen!

Pola i Oh 'tis

9 into

Pol. I hear him coming ; let's withdraw, my Lord.

[Exeunt all but Ophelia S C Ε Ν Ε II.

Enter Hamlet.
Ham. To be, or not to be: that is the question
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer
The Nings and arrows of outragious fortune ;
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, a
And by opposing end them. To dieto seep-
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That Aesh is heir to; 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To dieto sleep
To seep-perchance to dream; ay, there's the rub
For in that neep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The *7 pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The infolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes ;
When he himself might his Quictus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardles bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
(That undiscover'd country, from whose borne
No traveller returns) puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all :
And thus the native hue of resolution
A a

Is (a) Instead of a sea of troubles perhaps Shakespear wrote affailing troubles, which would preferve a propriety in the metaphor.


Is ficklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
- And enterprizes of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. Soft you now,

[Seeing Ophelia.
The fair Ophelia! nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my fins remembred!

Oph. Good my Lord,
How does your Honour for this many a day?

Ham. I humbly thank you, well.
Oph. My Lord, I have remembrances of yours,
That I have longed much to re-deliver.
I pray you, now receive them.
Ham. No, I never gave you aught.

Oph. My honour'd Lord, I know right well you did,
And with them words of so sweet breath compos’d,
As made the things more rich: that perfume loft,
Take these again ; for to the noble mind
Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind.
There, my Lord.

Ham. Ha, ha! are you honest?
Oph. My Lord
Ham. Are you fair?
Oph. What means your Lordship?

Ham. That if you be honest and fair, you should admit no discourse to your beauty.

Oph. Could beauty, my Lord, have better commerce than with honefty ?

Ham. Ay truly; for the power of beauty will sooner transform honesty from what it is, to a bawd; than the force of honesty can translate beauty into its likeness. This was sometime a paradox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once.

Oph. Indeed, my Lord, you made me believe so.

Ham. You should not have believed me. For virtue cannot so inoculate our old stock, but we shall relish of it. I lov'd you not. Oph. I was the more deceived


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Ham. Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be a breeder of finners? I am my self indifferent honest, but yet I could accuse me of such things, that it were better my mother had not born me, I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck, than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. What should such fellows as I do crawling between heav'n and earth? we are arrant knaves, believe none of us Go thy ways to a nunnery—Where's your father?

Oph. At home, my Lord.

Ham. Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no where but in's own house. Farewel.

Óph. Oh help him, you sweet heav'ns!

Ham. If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny--Get thee co a nunnery. farewel-Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough, what monsters you make of them-To a nunnery, go and quickly too, farewel.

Oph. Heav'nly powers! restore him.

Ham. I have heard of your painting too, well enough: God has given you one face, and you make your self another. You jig you amble, and you -lisp, and God's creatures, and make your wantonness your ignorance. Go, I'll no more on't, it hath made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages. Those that are married already, all but one, shall live, the rest shall keep as they are. Toa nunnery, go,

[Exit Hamlet. Opb. Oh what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's; 3 'scholar's, foldier's, eye, tongue, sword, Th’expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, Th' observ'd of all observers, quite, quite down! I am of ladies most deject and wretched, That suck'd the hony of his musick vows, Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, A a 2

Like 3 soldier's, scholar's,

Like sweet bells jangled out of tune, and harsh ;
That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth,
Blatted with ecitalie. Oh woe is me,
T'have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

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Enter King and Polonius.
King. Love! his affections do not that way tend,
Nor what he spake, tho' it lack'd form a little,
Was not like madness. Something's in his soul,
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood,
And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose
Will be some danger, which how to prevent,

have in quick determination
Thus set it down. He shall with speed to England,
For the demand of our neglected tribute :
Haply the seas and countries different,
With variable objects, fhall expel
This something settled matter in his heart;
Whereon his brains still beating, puts him thus
From fashion of himself. What think you on't?

Pol. It shall do well. But yet do I believe
The origin and commencement of this grief
Sprung from neglected love. How now, Opbelia?
You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said,
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 shew his griefs ; let her be round with him:
And I'll be plac'd, so please you, in the ear
Of all their conf'rence.

If she find him not,
To England send him; or confine him where
Your wisdom best shall think.

King. It shall be fo : Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. (Exeunt.


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