Ham. Is this a prologue, or the posie of a ring? Ham. As woman's love. Enter Duke and Dutchefs, Players. Duke. Full thirty times hath Pha bus car gone round Dutch. So many journeys may the fun and moon So far from cheer and from your former ftate, Now what my love is, proof hath made you know, Duke. 'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and fhortly too: My operant powers their functions leave to do, And thou fhalt live in this fair world behind, Dutch. Oh confound the rest! Such love must needs be treafon in my breaft: None wed the fecond, but who kill'd the firft. Ham. Wormwood, wormwood! Dutch. The inftances that fecond marriage move, Are base refpects of thrift, but none of love. When fecond husband kiffes me in bed. Duke. I do believe you think what now you speak; But what we do determine, oft we break: time twelve thirties been, Pur Purpose is but the flave to memory, Of violent birth, but poor validity: Which now, like fruits unripe, fticks on the tree, To pay our felves what to our felves is debt: Their own enactors with themselves destroy : Whether love fortune lead, or fortune love. But orderly to end where I begun, That our devices ftill are overthrown, Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. So think thou wilt no fecond husband wed, But die thy thoughts, when thy firft Lord is dead. Dutch. Nor earth 9'oh! give me food, nor heaven light! Sport and repofe lock from me, day and night; Each oppofite that blanks the face of joy, Meet what I would have well, and it deftroy! Ham. If the fhould break it now Duke. 'Tis deeply fworn; fweet, leave me here a while, 9 to me give My My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile Dutch. Sleep rock thy brain, And never come mifchance between us twain! Queen. The Lady protefts too much, methinks. [Sleeps. [Exit. King. Have you heard the argument, is there no offence in't? Ham. No, no, they do but jeft, poifon in jeft, no offence i'th' world. King What do you call the play? Ham. The Moufe-trap. Marry how? tropically. This play is the image of a murther done in Vienna; Gonzago is the Duke's name, his wife's Baptifta; you fhall fee anon, 'tis a knavifh piece of work; but what o' that? your Majefty, and we that have free fouls, it touches us not; let the gall'd jade winch, our withers are unwrung. Enter Lucianus. This is one Lucianus, nephew to the Duke. Ham. I could interpret between you and your love; if I could fee the puppets dallying. Oph. You are keen, my Lord, you are keen. Ham. It would coft you a groaning, to take off my edge. Opb. Still worfe and worse. Ham. 'So most of you take husbands. Begin, murtherer. Leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come, the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge. Luc. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing: Confederate feafon, and no creature seeing: Thou mixture rank, of midnight-weeds collected, So you must take On On wholfome life ufurp immediately. [Pours the poifon in his ears. Ham. He poifons him i'th' garden for's eftate; his name's Gonzago; the ftory is extant, and writ in choice. Italian. You fhall fee anon how the murtherer gets the love of Gonzago's wife. Oph. The King rifes. Ham. What, frighted with false fire? Pol. Give o'er the play. King. Give me fome light. Away! All Lights, lights, lights! S CE NE A [Exeunt. VIII. Manent Hamlet and Horatio. 21 Ham. Why, let the ftricken deer go weep, The bart ungalled play: For fome must watch, whilst some must sleep ; Would not this, Sir, and a forest of feathers, (if the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me) with two provincial rofes on my rayed fhoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of Players, Sir? Hor. Half a fhare. 3 Ham. 'Ay, a whole one.` For thou dost know, ob Damon dear, This realm dismantled was Of Jove bimself, and now reigns bere Hor. You might have rhym'd. Ham. O good Horatio, I'll take the ghoft's word for a thousand pounds. Didft perceive? Hor. Very well, my Lord. Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning? Hor. I did very well note him. Enter Rofincroffe and Guildenstern. Ham. Oh, ha! come, fome mufick. Come, the recorders. For if the King like not the comedy; Why then belike he likes it not perdy. Guil. Good my Lord, vouchfafe me a word with you. Guil. The King, Sir, Ham. Ay, Sir, what of him? Guil. Is in his retirement, marvellous diftemper'd Guil. No, my Lord, with choler. Ham. Your wifdom fhould fhew it felf more rich to fignifie this to his doctor: for me to put him to his purgation, would perhaps plunge him into more choler. Guil. Good my Lord, put your difcourfe into fome frame, and start not fo wildly from my affair. Ham. I am tame, Sir, pronounce. Guil. The Queen your mother, in moft great affliction of fpirit, hath fent me to you." Ham. You are welcome. Guil. Nay, good my Lord, this courtefie is not of the right breed. If it fhall please you to make me a wholfome answer, I will do your mother's commandment; if not, your pardon, and my return fhall be the end of my business. Ham. Sir, I cannot. Guil. What, my Lord? Ham. Make you a wholfome anfwer: my wit's difeas'd. But, Sir, fuch anfwers as I can make, you fhall command; or rather, as you fay, my mother: therefore no more but to the matter-my mother, you fay Rof. Then thus fhe fays; your behaviour hath ftruck her into amazement, and admiration.. Ham. Oh wonderful fon, that can fo aftonish a mother! But is there no fequel at the heels of this mother's admiration? Rof. |