Purpose is but the slave to memory; Of violent birth, but poor validity; Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree, To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt: Their own enactures with themselves destroy : For 'tis a question left us yet to prove, Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. For who not needs shall never lack a friend; But, orderly to end where I begun ;— That our devices still are overthrown; Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own: So think thou wilt no second husband wed: But die thy thoughts when thy first lord 15 dead. P. Queen. Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light! Sport and repose lock from me, day and night! To desperation turn my trust and hope! An anchor's1 cheer in prison be my scope! Ham. If she should break it now, P. King. 'Tis deeply sworn. here awhile; [to Ophelia. Sweet, leave me My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile The tedious day with sleep. P. Queen. [sleeps. Sleep rock thy brain; [Exit. And never come mischance between us twain! Ham. Madam, how like you this play? Queen. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. Ham. O, but she 'll keep her word. King. Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't? Ham. No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest: no offence i' the world. King. What do you call the play? Ham. The mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tro 1 An anchoret's. i. e. to detect the villany of the king. pically. This play is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work but what of that? your majesty, and we that have free souls, it touches us not: let the galled jade wince; our withers are unwrung. Enter LUCIANUS. This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. Oph. You are keen, my lord, you are keen. Ham. It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge. Oph. Still better, and worse. Ham. So you mistake your husbands.—Begin, murderer ;—leave thy damnable faces, and begin.— Come ; -The croaking raven Doth bellow for revenge.' Lu. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing; Confederate season, else no creature seeing; In allusion to the interpreter who formerly sat on the stage at all motions or puppet-shows, and interpreted to the audience. 2 Curse. Thy natural magic and dire property On wholesome life usurp immediately. [pours the poison into the sleeper's ears. Ham. He poisons him i' the garden for his estate: his name 's Gonzago: the story is extant, and written in very choice Italian. You shall see anon, how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife. Oph. The king rises. Ham. What! frighted with false fire? Queen. How fares my lord? Po. Give o'er the play. King. Give me some light :-away! Po. Lights, lights, lights! [Exeunt all but Hamlet and Horatio. Ham. Why, let the strucken deer go weep, For some must watch, while 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 roses on my razed1 shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir? 2 Ho. Half a share. Ham. A whole one, I. For thou dost know, O Damon dear, This realm dismantled was Of Jove himself; and now reigns here 1 Slashed. SHAK 2 Pack, company. XIV. G Ho. You might have rhymed. Ham. O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand pound. Didst perceive? Ham. Upon the talk of the poisoning, Ho. I did very well note him. Ham. Ah, ha!-Come, some music; come, the recorders: 1— For, if the king like not the comedy, Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy.— Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN. Come, some music. Guil. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. Ham. Sir, a whole history. Guil. The king, sir, Ham. Ay, sir, what of him? Guil. Is, in his retirement, marvellous distem pered. Ham. With drink, sir? Guil. No, my lord, with choler. Ham. Your wisdom should show itself more richer to signify this to the doctor; for, for me to put him to his purgation, would perhaps plunge him into more choler. Guil. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and start not so wildly from my affair. 1 A recorder here signiñes a kind of flute. A corruption of par Dieu. |