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Whereon his brains ftill beating, puts him thus
From fashion of himself. What think you on't?
Pol. It fhall do well. But yet do I believe
The origin and commencement of this grief
Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia?
You need not tell us what lord Hamlet faid,
We heard it all. My lord, do as you please;
But if you hold it fit after the play,

Let his Queen-mother all alone intreat him
To fhew his griefs; let her be round with him:
And I'll be plac'd, so please you, in the ear
Of all their conf'rence. If fhe find him not,
To England fend him; or confine him where
Your wifdom best shall think.

King. It fhall be so:

Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

IV.

Ham.

Enter Hamlet, and two or three of the Players.

SPEA

PEAK the speech I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you, trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our Players do, I had as lieve the town-crier had fpoke my lines. And do not saw the air too much with your hand thus, but ufe all gently; for in the very torrent, tempeft, and, as I may say, whirl-wind of your paffion, you must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. Oh, it offends me to the foul, to hear a robustous periwig-pated fellow tear a paffion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings: who (for the most part) are capable of nothing, but inexplicable dumb fhews, and noife: I could have fuch a fellow whipt for o'er-doing termagant; it out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it.

Play.

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Play. I warrant your honour.

Ham. Be not too tame neither; but let your own discretion be your tutor. Sute the action to the word, the word to the action; with this special observance, that you o'er-step not the modesty of nature; for any thing fo overdone is from the purpose of playing; whose end both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twere the mirror up to nature; to fhew virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and preffure. Now this over-done, or come tardy off, tho' it make the unskilful laugh, judicious grieve: the cenfure of which one, ance o'er-fway a whole theatre of others. that I have seen play, and heard others praise and that highly, (not to speak it prophanely) that neither having the accent of christian, or the gate of chriftian, pagan, or man, have fo ftrutted and bellow'd, that I have thought some of nature's journey-men had made men, and not made them well; they imitated humanity so abominably.

cannot but make the

must in your allowOh, there be Players.

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Play. I hope we have reform'd that indifferently with us.

Ham. Oh reform it altogether. And let those that play your clowns, speak no more than is fet down for them: For there be of them that will themfelves laugh, to fet on fome quantity of barren spectators to laugh too, though in the mean time fome neceffary question, of the play be then to be confidered: That's villanous, and fhews a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go make you ready. [Exeunt Players.

Enter Polonius, Rofincroffe, and Guildenstern. How now, my lord? will the King hear this piece of work?

Pol. And the Queen too, and that presently.

Ham. Bid the Players make haste.

Will you two help to haften them?

Both. We will, my lord.

i or Norman.

[Exit Polonius.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

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Ham. What ho, Horatio?

Hor. Here, fweet lord, at your service.
Ham. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man
As e'er my conversation coap'd withal.
Hor. Oh my dear lord

Ham. Nay, do not think I flatter:

For what advancement may I hope from thee,
That no revenue haft, but thy good fpirits

To feed and cloath thee? Should the poor be flatter'd?
No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,
And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,
Where thrift may follow fawning. Doft thou hear?
Since my dear foul was mistress of her choice,
And could of men diftinguish, her election
Hath feal'd thee for her felf. For thou hast been
As one, in suffering all that suffers nothing.
A man, that fortune's buffets and rewards
Hath ta'en with equal thanks. And bleft are those,
Whose blood and judgment are so well co-mingled,
That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger
To found what stop she please. Give me that man
That is not paffion's flave, and I will wear him
In my heart's core: ay, in my heart of heart,
As I do thee.
Something too much of this.
There is a play to-night before the King,
One scene of it comes near the circumstance
Which I have told thee, of my father's death.
I pr'ythee, when thou seest that act a-foot,
Ev'n with the very comment of thy foul

Ob

Observe mine uncle: if his occult guilt
Do not it self unkennel in one speech,

It is a damned ghost that we have seen:
And my imaginations are as foul

As Vulcan's ftithy. Give him heedful note,
For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,
And after we will both our judgments join,
To cenfure of his feeming.

Hor. Well, my lord.

If he fteal ought the whilft this play is playing,
And scape detecting, I will pay the theft.

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Enter King, Queen, Polonius, Ophelia, Rofincroffe, Guildenstern, and other lords attendant, with a guard carrying torches. Danish march. Sound a flourish.

Ham. They're coming to the play; I must be idle.

Get you a place.

King. How fares our coufin Hamlet?

Ham. Excellent i'faith, of the camelion's difh: I eat the air, promife-cramm'd: you cannot feed capons fo.

King. I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet, these words are not mine.

Ham No, nor mine now, my lord.. You plaid once i'th' university, you say? [To Polonius. Pol. That I did, my lord, and was accounted a good actor. Ham. And what did you enact?

Pol. I did enact Julius Cæfar, I was kill'd i'th' capitol: Brutus kill'd me.

Ham. It was a brute part of him, to kill fo capital a calf there. Be the players ready?

† Stithy, a fmith's anvil.

Rof.

Rof. Ay, my lord, they stay upon your patience.
Queen. Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.
Ham. No, good mother, here's mettle more attractive.
Pol. Oh ho, do you mark that?

Ham. Lady, fhall I lye in your lap?

Oph. No, my lord.

[Lying down at Ophelia's feet.

Ham. Do you think I meant country matters?

Oph. I think nothing, my lord.

Ham. That's a fair thought to lye between a maid's legs.

Oph. What is, my lord?

Ham. Nothing.

Oph. You are merry, my lord.

Ham. Who, I?

Oph. Ay, my lord.

Ham. Oh God, your only jig-maker; what should a man do, but be merry? For look you how chearfully my mother looks, and my father dy'd within these two hours.

Oph. Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord.

Ham. So long? nay then let the devil wear black, for I'll have a fuit of fables. Oh heav'ns! dye two months ago, and not forgotten yet! then there's hope, a great man's memory may out-live his life half a year: but by'r-lady he must build churches then; or else fhall he suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse; whose epitaph is For oh, for ob, the hobby-horse is forgot.

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Hautboys play. The dumb shew enters.

Enter a King and Queen, very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. He takes her up, and declines his head upon

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