ACT III. SCENE, The PALACE. Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofincrantz, Guildenstern, and Lords. A KING. ND can you by no drift of conference Get from him why he puts on this confufion, Grating fo harfhly all his days of quiet, With turbulent and dang'rous lunacy? Rof. He does confefs, he feels himself distracted; But from what cause he will by no means fpeak. Guil. Nor do we find him forward to be founded; When we would bring him on to fome confeffion Queen. Did he receive you well ? Rof. Moft like a gentleman. Guil. But with much forcing of his difpofition. Rof. Niggard of queftion, but of our demands Most free in his reply. Queen. Did you affay him to any paftime? Rof. Madam, it fo fell out, that certain players Pol. Tis most true: And he befeech'd me to intreat your Majefties To hear and fee the matter. King. With all my heart, and it doth much content me To hear him so inclin'd. Goo d Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, King. Sweet Gertrude, leave us too; Queen. I fhall obey you: And for my part, Ophelia, I do wish, [Exeunt. That your good beauties be the happy cause To both your honours. Oph. Madam, I wish it may. [Exit Queen. -Read on this book; Pol. Ophelia, walk you here.-Gracious, fo please ye, We will beftow ourfelves 'That fhew of fuch an exercife 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 fugar o'er The devil himfelf. King. Oh, 'tis too true. How imart a lash that fptech doth give my confcience ! The harlot's cheek, beautied with plaiftring art, Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it, Oh heavy burden! [Afide. Pol. I hear him coming; let's withdraw, my Lord. [Exeunt all but Ophelia. Enter Hamlet. Hem. To be, or not to be? that is the queftion.Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to fuffer The The flings and arrows of outrageous fortune; For who would bear the whips and fcorns of time, Is ficklied o'er with the pale caft of thought; The fair Ophelia? Nymph, in thy orifons Oph. Good my Lord, How does your honour for this many a day? Oph. My Lord, I have remembrances of yours, I pray you, now receive them, Ham. Ham. No, I never gave you aught. Oph. My honour'd Lord, you know right well, you did; Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. Ham. Ha, ha! are you honeft? Ham. Are you fair? Oph. What means your Lordship? Ham. That if you be honest and fair, you should admit no difcourfe to your beauty. Oph. Could beauty, my Lord, have better commerce than with honesty? Ham. Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will fooner transform honefty from what it is, to a bawd; than the force of honefty can tranflate beauty into its likeness. This was fometime a parodox, but now the time gives it proof. I did love you once. Oph. Indeed, my Lord, you made me believe fo. Ham. You fhould not have believed me. For virtue cannot fo inoculate our old stock, but we shall relish of it. I lov'd you not. Oph. I was the more deceiv'd. Ham. Get thee to a nunnery. Why wouldst thou be a breeder of finners? I am myfelf in indifferent honeft; but yet I could accufe, me of fuch things, that it were. better, my mother had not borne 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 fhape, or time to act them in. What should fuch 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 fhut upon him, that he may play the fool no where but in's own houfe. Oph. Oh help him, you fweet heav'ns! Farewel. Ham. If thou doft marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry. Be thou as chafte as ice, as pure as fnow, thou shalt not escape calumny.-Get thee to a nunnery, -farewel—Or, if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool; for wife men know well enough, what monsters you make of them--To a nunnery, go-and quickly too: farewel. Oph. Heav'nly powers, reftore him! Ham. I have heard of your painting too, well enough: God has given you one face, and you make yourselves. another. You jig, you amble, and you lifp, and nickname God's creatures, and make your wantonnefs your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't, it hath made me mad. I fay, we will have no more marriages. Those that are married already, all but one, fhall live; the reft fhall keep as they are. To a nunnery, go. [Exit Hamlet. Oph. Oh, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! The courtier's, foldier's, fcholar's, eye, tongue, fword! Th' expectancy and rofe of the fair ftate, The glafs of fashion, and the mould of form, T' have feen what I have feen; fee what I fee. Enter King and Polonius. King. Love! his affections do not that way tend, Thus fet it down. He fhall with fpeed to England, |