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Queen. If it be;
Why seems it so particular with thee?

Ham. Seems, madam ? nay, it is ; I know not seems:
'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of folemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forc'd breath,
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage,
Together with all forms, moods, shews of grief,
That can denote me truly. These may seem,
For they are actions that a man might play;
But I have that within, which pafseth show:
These, but the trappings, and the suits of woe.

King. 'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature,
To give these mourning duties to your father :

you must know, your father loft a father,
That father his, and the surviver bound
In filial obligation, for some term
To do obsequious sorrow. But to persevere
In obstinate condolement, is a course
Of impious stubborness, unmanly grief.
It shews a will most incorrect to heav'n,
A heart unfortify'd, a mind impatient,
An understanding simple, and unschoold:
For what we know must be, and is as common
As any the must vulgar thing to sense,
Why should we, in our peevish opposition,
Take it to heart? fie! 'tis a fault to heav'n,
A fault against the dead, a fault to nature,
To reason most absurd, whose common theam
Is death of fathers, and who still hath cry'd,
From the first coarse, 'till he that died to-day,
“ This must be so." We pray you throw to earth

This unprevailing woe, and think of us
As of a father: for let the world take note,
You are the most immediate to our throne,
And with no less nobility of love,
Than that which dearest-father bears his son,
Do I impart tow'rd you. For your intent
In going back to school to Wittenberg,
It is most retrograde to our desire:
And we beseech you, bend you to remain
Here in the cheer and comfort of our eye,
Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our fon.

Queen. Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet:
I prychee stay with us, go not to Wittenberg.

Ham. I shall in all my best obey you, madam.

King. Why 'tis a loving, and a fair reply,
Be as our self in Denmark. Madam, come,
This gentle and unforc'd accord of Hamlet
Sits smiling to my heart, in grace

No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day,
But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell;
And the King's rowse the heav'n shall bruit again
Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away.

[Exeunt. S C E N E III.

Manet Hamlet.

Ham. Oh that this too-too solid Alesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve it self into a dew;
Or that the Everlasting had not fixt
His cannon 'gainst self-Naughter. Oh God! oh God!
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world :
Fie on't! oh fie! 'tis an unweeded garden

Y y 2


That grows to feed; things rank, and gross in nature
Possess it meerly that it should come thus.
But two months dead! nay, not so much; not two,
So excellent a King, that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr: so loving to my mother,
That he permitted not the winds of heav'n
Visit her face too roughly. Heav'n and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on; yet within a month ?
Let me not think Frailty, thy name is woman!
A little month! -----or e'er those shooes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears Why she, ev’n she,
Oh heav'n! a beast that wants discourse of reason
Would have mourn'd longer ----- married with mine uncle,
My father's brother; no more like my father,
Than I to Hercules. Within a month!
Ere yet the sale of most unrighteous tears
Had left the Aushing in her gauled eyes,
She married. Oh most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets :
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue.


Enter Horatio, Bernardo, and Marcellus.
Hor. Hail to your lordship.

Ham. I am glad to see you well,
Horatio? or I do forget my self ?

Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever.
Ham. Sir, my good friend, I'll change that name with you:


And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio ?
Marcellus !

Mar. My good lord -

Ham. I am very glad to see you; good even, Sir. But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg?

Hor. A truant disposition, good my lord.

Ham. I would not bear your enemy say so;
Nor shall you do mine ear that violence,
To make it truster of your own report
Against your self. I know you are no truant;
But what is your affair in Ellinoor ? -
We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart.

Hor. My lord, I came to see your father's funeral.

Ham. I pr’ythee do not mock me, fellow-student; I think it was to see my mother's wedding.

Hor. Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon.

Ham. Thrift, thrift, Horatio: the funeral bak’d meats
Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables.
Would I had met my dearest foe in heav'n,
Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio.
My father -----methinks I see my father.

Hor. Oh where, my lord ?
Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio.
Hor. I saw him once, he was a goodly King.

Ham. He was a man, take him for all in all,
I shall not look upon his like again,

Hor. My lord, I think I saw him yesternight.
Ham. Saw! who: ---
Hor. My lord, the King your father.
Ham. The King my father!

Hor. Season your admiration for a while
With an attentive ear ; 'till I deliver
Upon the witness of these gentlemen,
This marvel to you.


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Ham. For heaven's love, let me hear.

Hor. Two-nights together bad these gentlemen,
Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch,
In the dead waste and middle of the night,,
Been thus encountred. A figure like your father,
Arm’d at all points exactly, Cap-a-pe,
Appears before them, and with solemn march
Goes flow and stately by them; thrice he walkid,
By their opprest and fear-surprized eyes,
Within bis truncheon's length;, whilst they (distill?d.
Almost to jelly with the act of fear)
Stand dumb, and speak not to him. This to me
In dreadful secrecy impart they did,
And I with them the third night kept the watch,
Where as they had deliverd both in time,
Form of the thing, each word made true and good,
The apparition comes. I knew

I knew your father:
These hands are not more like.

Ham. But where was this ?
Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we watche.
Ham. Did you not speak to it?

Hor. My lord, I did;
But answer made it none; yet once methought:
It lifted up its head, and did address
It self to motion, like as it would speak:
But even then the morning cock crew loud;
And at the sound it shrunk in halte away,
And vanisht from our sight.

Ham. 'Tis very strange.

Hor. As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true;
And we did think it writ down in our duty
To let you know of it.

Ham. Indeed, Sirs, but this troubles me,


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