Phrase; but you fhall hear

Bofom, thefe

-Thefe to her excellent white

Queen. Came this from Hamlet to her?

Pol. Good Madam ftay a while, I will be faithful..

Doubt thou, the Stars are Fire,

Doubt, that the Sun doth move;
Doubt Truth to be a Liar,
But never Doubt, I love.

[Reading.

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at thefe Numbers; I have not Art to reckon my Groans; but that I love thee best, oh most Best,

believe it.

Adieu.

Thine evermore, most dear Lady, whilft this
Machine is to him, Hamlet.

This in Obedience hath my Daughter fhew'd me:
And more above, hath his follicitings,

As they fell out by time, by means, and place,
All given to mine Ear.

King. But how hath fhe receiv'd his Love?
Pol. What do you think of me?

King. As of a Man, faithful and honourable.

Pol. I would fain prove fo. But what might you think? When I had feen his hot Love on the Wing,

As I perceiv'd it, I muft tell you that

Before my Daughter told me, what might you
Or my dear Majefty your Queen here, think,
If I had play'd the Desk or Table-book,
Or given my Heart a winking, mute and dumb,
Or look'd upon this love, with idle fight,

What might you think? No, I went round to work,
And my young Miftrefs thus I did befpeak;
Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of thy Sphere,
This must not be; And then, I Precepts gave her,
That the fhould lock her felf from his Refort,
Admit no Meffengers, receive no Tokens:
Which done, she took the fruits of my Advice,
And he repulfed, a fhort Tale to make,
Fell into a Sadness, then into a Fast,
Thence to a Watch, thence into a Weakness,
Thence to a Lightness, and by this declenfion
Into the Madr efs wherein now he rave
And all we wail for.

King. Do you think 'tis this?

Queen. It may be very likely.

Pol. Hath there been fuch a time, I'd fain know that, That I have pofitively faid, 'tis fo,

When it prov'd otherwife?

King. Not that I know.

Pol. Take this from this, if this be otherwife, If Circumstances lead me, I will find

Where Truth is hid, though it were hid indeed

Within the Center.

King. How may we try it further?

Pol. You know fometimes

He walks four hours together, here

In the Lobby.

Queen. So he has indeed.

Pol. At fuch a time I'll loofe my Daughter to him,

Be you and I behind an Arras then,

Mark the Encounter: If he love her not,

And be not from his Reafon faln thereon,
Let me be no Affiftant for a State,

And keek a Farm and Carters.

King. We will try it.

Enter Hamlet reading,

Queen. But look where, fadly, the poor Wretch comes

(Reading.

Exit King and Queen.

Pol. Away, I do befeech you, both away.

I'll board him presently.

Oh give me leave. How does my good Lord Hamlet?
Ham. Well, God-a-mercy.

Pol. Do you know me, my Lord ?

Ham. Excellent, excellent well; y'are a Fishmonger? Pol. Not I, my Lord.

Ham. Then I would you were fo honeft a Man.

Pol. Honeft, my Lord?

Ham. Ay, Sir; to be honest as this World goes, is to be

One pick'd out of two thou and.

Pol. That's very true, my Lord.

Ham. For if the Sun breed Maggots in a dead Dag, Being a good kiffing Carrion

Have you a Daughter?

Pol. I have, my Lord.

Ham. Let her not walk i'th' Sun; Conception is a Blef fing, but not as your Daughter may conceive. Friend, look

to't.

Pol. How fay you by that? Still harping on my Daugh ter yet he knew me not at firft; hefaid I was a Fishmon ger; he is far gone, far gone; and truly in my Youth, I fuffered much extremity for Love; very near this. I'll speak to him again. What do you read, my Lord;

Ham. Words, words, words.

Pol. What is the Matter, my Lord?
Ham. Between whom?

Pol. I mean the Matter you mean, my Lord.

Ham. Slanders, Sir: For the Satyrical Slave fays here, that old Men have gray Beards; that their Faces are wris kled; their Eyes purging thick Amber, or Plum Tree Gum; and that they have a plentiful lack of Wit, together with weak Hams. All which, Sir, though I moft powerfully, and potently believe, yet I hold it not Honefty to have it thus fet down: For you your felf, Sir, fhall be as old as I am, if like a Crab you could backward.

Pol. Though this be madness, yet there's Method in't: Will you walk out of the Air, my Lord?

Ham. Into my Grave?

Pol. Indeed that is out o'th' Air:

How pregnant (fometimes) his replies are?
A happiness that often Madness hits on,

Which Reafon and Sanity could not

So profperously be deliver'd of. I will leave him,

And fuddenly contrive the means of meeting

Between him and my Daughter.

My honourable Lord, I will moft humbly
Take my leave of you,

go

Ham. You cannot, Sir, take from me any thing, that I will more willingly part withal, except my Life, my Life.

Pol. Fare you well, my Lord.

Ham. These tedious old Fools.

Pol. You go to feek my Lord Hamlet; there he is.

Enter

Enter Rofeneraus and Guildenstern.

Rof. God fave you, Sir.

Guild. Mine honour'd Lord!

Rof. My moft dear Lord!

Ham. My excellent good Friends! How doft thou Guildenstern? Oh, Rofeneraus, good Lads! How do ye both?

Ref. As the indifferent Children of the Earth.

Guild. Happy, in that we are not over-happy; on Fortune's Cap, we are not the very Button.

Ham. Nor the Soals of her Shooe?

Rof. Neither, my Lord.

Ham. Then you live about her wafte, or in the middle

of her Favour?

Guild. Faith, her privates we.

Ham. In the fecret parts of Fortune? Oh,moft true; she is a Strumpet. What's the News?

Rof. None, my Lord, but that the World's grown Honeft.

Ham. Then is Dooms-day near; but your News is not true. Let me queftion more in particular: What have you, my good Friends, deferved at the hands of Fortune, that fhe fends you to Prison hither?

Guild. Prifon, my Lord?

Ham Denmark's a Prifon.
Rof. Then is the World one.

Ham. A goodly one, in which there are many Confines, Wards, and Dungeons; Denmark being one o'th' worft.

Rof. We think not fo, my Lod.

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

Rof. Why then your Ambition makes it one: 'Tis too narrow for your Mind.

Ham. O God, I could be bounded in a Nut-fhell, and count my felf a King of infinite space; were it not that I have bad Dreams.

Guild. Which Dreams indeed are Ambition; for the very fubftance of the ambitious, is meerly the fhadow of

a Dream.

Ham. A Dream it felf is but a Shadow.

Rof. Truly, and I hold Ambition of fo airy and light a quality, that it is but a Shadow's Shadow.

Ham. Then are our Beggars Bodies, and our Monarchs, and out-flretcht Heroes, the Beggars Shadows; fhall we to th' Court? for, by my fey, I cannot reafon.

Both. We'll wait upon you.

Ham. No fuch matter. I will not fort you with the rest of my Servants: For, to speak to you like an honeft Man, I am moft dreadfully attended; but in the beaten way of Friendship, what make you at Elfinoor?

Rof. To vifit you, my Lord, no other Occafion.

Ham. Beggar that I am, I am even poor in Thanks; but I thank you; and fure, dear Friends, my Thanks are too dear a half-penny; were you not fent for? Is it your own inclining? Is it a free Vifitation? Come, deal juftly with me; come, come; nay, speak.

Guild. What should we fay, my Lord?

Ham. Why, any thing, but to the Purpose. You were sent for; and there is a kind of Confeffion in your looks, which Modefties have not craft enough to colour. I know the good King and Queen have sent for you.

your

Ref. To what end, my Lord?

Ham. That you must teach me; but let me conjure you by the rights of our Fellowship, by the confonancy of our Youth, by the Obligation of our ever-preferved Love, and by what more dear, a better propofer could charge you with al; be even and direct with me, whether you were fent for

or no.

Rof. What fay you?

Ham. Nay then I have an Eye of you: If you love me,

hold not off.

Guild. My Lord, we were fent for.

Ham. I will tell you why; fo fhall my Anticipation prevent your discovery, and your fecrecy to the King and Queen, moult no Feather: I have of late, but wherefore I know not, loft all my Mirth, forgone all cuftome of Exercife; and indeed, it goes fo heavily with my Difpofition, that this goodly Frame, the Earth, feems to me a fteril Promontory; this moft excellent Canopy the Air, look you, this brave o'er-hanging, this Majeftical Roof, fretted with

golden