Let me be no assistant for a state,

But keep a farm and carters.

King.

We will try it.

Enter HAMLET, reading.

Queen. But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading.

Po. Away, I do beseech you; both away; I'll board him presently :-O, give me leave.— [Exeunt King, Queen, and Attendants.

How does my good lord Hamlet?

Ham. Well, god-'a-mercy.

Po. Do you know me, my lord?

Ham. Excellent well; you are a fishmonger.
Po. Not I, my lord.

Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man.
Po. Honest, my lord?

Ham. Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.

Po. That's very true, my lord.

Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a god, kissing carrion,-Have you a daughter?

Po. I have, my lord.

1

Ham. Let her not walk i' the sun: conception 1 is a blessing; but as your daughter may conceive,friend, look to 't.

Po. [aside.] How say you by that? Still harping

1 Understanding.

on my daughter: yet he said, I was a fishmonger. and, truly, in my youth I

knew me not at first; he He is far gone, far gone; suffered much extremity

for love; very near this. I'll speak to him again. -What do you read, my lord?

Ham. Words, words, words.

Po. What is the matter, my lord?

Ham. Between who?

Po. I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. Ham. Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here, that old men have gray beards; that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber, and plum-tree gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams: all of which, sir, though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down; for yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if, like a crab, you could go backward.

Po. Though this be madness, yet there is method in't. [aside.] Will you walk out of the air, my lord?

Ham. Into my grave?

Po. Indeed, that is out o' the air.-How pregnant1 sometimes his replies are! a happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of meeting between him and my daughter.-My ho

1 Ready, apt.

norable lord, I will most humbly take my leave of

you.

Ham. You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal; except my life, except my life, except my life.

Po. Fare you well, my lord.

Ham. These tedious old fools!

Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTErn.

Po. You go to seek the lord Hamlet: there he is.

Ro. God save you, sir!

[to Polonius. [Exit Polonius.

Guil. My honored lord!

Ro. My most dear lord!

Ham. My excellent good friends! How dost thou, Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! good lads, how do ye both?

Ro. As the indifferent children of the earth. Guil. Happy, in that we are not overhappy : On Fortune's cap we are not the very button. Ham. Nor the soles of her shoe?

Ro. Neither, my lord.

Ham. Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favors?

Guil. Faith, her privates we.

Ham. In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true she is a strumpet. What news?

Ro. None, my lord; but that the world's grown honest.

Ham. Then is doomsday near: but your news is

not true. Let me question more in particular. What have you, my good friends, deserved at the hands of Fortune, that she sends you to prison hither?

Guil. Prison, my lord?

Ham. Denmark's a prison.

Ro. Then is the world one.

Ham. A goodly one, in which there are many confines, wards, and dungeons; Denmark being one of the worst.

Ro. We think not so, my lord.

Ham. Why, then 'tis none to you; for there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so to me it is a prison.

Ro. Why, then your ambition makes it one; 'tis too narrow for your mind.

Ham. O God! I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.

Guil. Which dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.

Ham. A dream itself is but a shadow.

Ro. Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality, that it is but a shadow's shadow.

Ham. Then are our beggars, bodies; and our monarchs, and outstretched heroes, the beggars' shadows. Shall we to the court? for, by my fay, I

cannot reason.

Ro. Guil. We'll wait upon you.

Ham. No such matter: I will not sort you with

the rest of my servants; for, to speak to you like an honest man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore?

Ro. To visit you, my lord; no other occasion.

Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are too dear, a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, come, deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak.

Guil. What should we say, my lord?

Ham. Any thing-but to the purpose. You were sent for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks, which your modesties have not craft enough to color. I know, the good king and queen have sent for you.

Ro. To what end, my lord?

Ham. That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved love, and by what more dear a better proposer could charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you were sent for or no? [to Guildenstern. Ham. Nay, then I have an eye of you: [aside.] love me, hold not off.

Ro. What say you?

-if you

Guil. My lord, we were sent for.

Ham. I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation prevent your discovery, and your secresy to the king and queen moult no feather. I have of