But as we often fee against some storm, Out, out, thou ftrumpet-fortune! all you gods, Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, Pol. This is too long. Ham. It fhall to th' barber's with your beard. Pr'ythee fay on; he's for a jigg, or a tale of bawdry, or he fleeps. Say on, come to Hecuba. 1 Play. But who, oh who, had seen the mobled Queen ? Ham. The mobled Queen? Pol. That's good; møbled Queen, is good. 1 Play. Run bare-foot up and down, threatning the flames With biffon rheum; a clout upon that head, Where late the diadem ftood, and for a robe About her lank and all o'er-teemed loyns, A blanket in th' alarm of fear caught up. Who this had seen, with tongue in venom fteep'd, 'Gainst fortune's state would treafon have pronounc'd: But if the gods themselves did fee her then, When the faw Pyrrhus make malicious fport In mincing with his fword her husband's limbs; The inftant burft of clamour that she made, In the first folio edition, it is th' enobled Queen. (Un (Unless things mortal move them not at all) Would have made melt the burning eyes of heav'n, Pol. Look if he has not turn'd his colour, and has tears in's eyes. Pr'ythee no more. Ham. 'Tis well, I'll have thee fpeak out the rest of this foon. Good my lord, will you fee the players well bestow'd. Do ye hear, let them be well us'd; for they are the abstract, and brief chronicles of the time. After your death, you were better have a bad epitaph, then their ill report while you liv'd. Pol. My lord, I will use them according to their desert. Ham. Gods bodikins man, much better. Ufe every man after his defert, and who fhall scape whipping? use them after your own honour and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. Take them in. Pol. Come, Sirs. Ham. Follow him, friends: Doft thou hear me, old friend, Gonzago? Play. Ay, my lord. [Exit Polonius. we'll hear a play to-morrow. can you play the murther of Ham. We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could for a need study a speech of some dozen or fixteen lines, which I would fet down, and infert in't? could ye not? Play. Ay, my lord. not. Ham. Very well. Follow that lord, and look you mock him My good friends, I'll leave you 'till night, you are welcome to Elfinoor. Rof. Good my lord. SCENE VIII. Manet Hamlet. Ham. Ay fo, God b' w' ye: now I am alone. [Exeunt. 8 milch. Ddd 2 Oh Oh what a rogue and peasant slave am I? What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her? what would he do, 1 Yet I fay nothing, no, not for a King, But I am pigeon-liver'd, and lack gall With this flave's offal. Bloody, bawdy villain! Remorseless, treacherous, letcherous, kindless villain! h Yet I, A dull and muddy metled rafcal peak Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause And can fay nothing i Ha! why fhould I take it? Why Why what an afs am I? this is most brave, A ftallion! k fye upon't! foh! about my brain For murther, though it have no tongue, will speak ACT IIL SCENE I The PALACE. Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofincroffe, A KING. ND can you by no drift of conference Rof. He does confefs he feels himself distracted; When we would bring him on to fome confeffion Queen. Did he receive you well? Rof. Most like a gentleman. Guil. But with much forcing of his difpofition. Rof. Niggard of question, but of our demands Moft free in his reply. Queen. Did you assay him to any paftime? Rof. Madam, it fo fell out, that certain players Pol. |